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It’s Shouto that brings up the idea of painting the walls. They’ve only been moved into the new place for three weeks, there’s still an unpacked box or two in their hall closet. Shouto still hasn’t settled on which of the bedroom closets he prefers more, and puts his clothes in both. He’s so annoying, Katsuki can’t believe he puts up with him.
The walls are sort of light cream colored now, almost white. There’s nothing really wrong with the color, it goes fine with the wooden panelling. They don’t have to do it, and Katsuki would prefer not to do things they don’t have to do, when it won’t gain them anything. When it comes to Shouto though, he’s never been able to say no, especially when he looks at him with those big cow eyes. He’s so cute it’s nauseating.
“I’d like it to be green,” he tells Katsuki one morning. He’s a little less cute when he speaks up at the ass crack of dawn, especially when Katsuki would still like to be sleeping.
They’re still settled in the position they fell asleep, Shouto is pressed up against his back with an arm thrown posessively across his middle. He has to turn in his arms to make sure this isn’t just half-asleep ramblings, since Shouto does that a lot. It’s not something he enjoys when it wakes him up from a good sleep, but when he’s awake anyway and happens to hear it, it’s usually really funny. It’s also great stuff to make fun of him for the morning after. Which is the kind of shit Katsuki lives for. The ever-cool Todoroki Shouto, clinging to him like a koala and comfortable enough to be mumbling absurdities.
Past highlights include: ‘oranges, but no straws’, ‘they cancelled my birthday’, and ‘izuku was replaced by a broccoli’.
This time though, he’s completely awake, and he looks pleased that Katsuki bothered to turn to hear him out instead of just telling him to shut up and keep sleeping (another frequent occurrence in their mornings together).
“You’d like what to be green?” Katsuki rubs at his eyes.
This is another thing. Sometimes Shouto just assumes that Katsuki can piece together whatever the hell he’s talking about from the most minute of context clues strewn about in their past. Something they had both heard on television the day before. A conversation they had had while grocery shopping five days ago. The exact wording Katsuki used when he asked this dumb idiot to be his boyfriend.
The stupidest thing is that Katsuki usually can piece together whatever it is. He’s gotten good at it, and he knows Shouto and how his mind works. Even this time, he’s pretty sure Shouto is referring to the walls. He just isn’t totally sure about it.
“The living room walls, first, then maybe the ones in here,” Shouto explains.
“You can’t even cook for yourself when I’m not around, and now you’re going to be Mr. Home Improvement?!”
“We could do it together, ‘Suki,” he looks so keen, like he’s been thinking and plotting about this all night. Maybe he has. Damn him. Still, hearing his name like that in Shouto’s mouth has always made him weak in his resolve, in his mind, he’s said yes already.
“No. There’s no need to paint! Absolutely no need to paint it in Deku's colors.”
“Green is one of your colors too.”
Oh. Right. Fuck. It is. This is getting harder to argue with. Especially when he’s in the arms of someone who would probably bring him the moon if he asked for it.
Few things make him ache. One of them is when he thinks about what he did to Deku, all those years ago, even though he’s tried to make up for it in the recent years as much as he can. Another is the incident at Kamino ward. The last is Shouto’s love for him. Constant and continuous, like a little heartbeat.
It shows up in every little stupid thing he does, how much he cares, and Katsuki wonders how he could have ever thought about him as cold, or just a rival to be shoved out of the way, when he’s everything. If he could go back in time and kick himself in the shins, he would. What a brat young Katsuki was. Yeesh. The only thing Katsuki doesn’t like about Shouto’s love is the feeling of desperation that comes with it. He still feels like there’s some part of Shouto that thinks that he could ruin this and he has to try hard to keep it.
The thing is, that’s bullshit. Shouto didn’t get this far into Katsuki’s heart by trying anything. He had the wrong equation but the right answer. Truth is, Shouto just always was perfect for him.
The desperation all comes down to the fact that Shouto’s always thought of himself as the kind of person that breaks things. But there’s nothing he could do that could make Katsuki turn from him now. Nothing he could ask for or do that would make him too much, or something to be cast off. That’s the kind of love his parents have. That’s how he was raised. He wants Shouto not to hold anything back and just give all of his real self to him. Let go, for fucks sake. I’ll catch you, I'll be here, don’t you know that by now?
They should paint the damn walls like Shouto wants. Maybe that’ll let him know, dense as he is about these things, that it’s okay for him to be his dumb idiot self to his fullest extent. Katsuki is always gonna love him.
He sighs. “Fine. Just. Nothing too bright. We come home to relax. I don’t want my eyes to be assaulted everytime I walk in.”
“I was thinking of a light color too.”
“‘Course you were.”
“Do you have a favorite color?”
“Do I look like I’m five years old?!”
“Izuku would know, maybe I’ll just ask him.”
“Go ahead, call up that nerd. See if I care.”
“I like blue. Some people say it looks good on me.”
“Everything looks good on you, stupid,” Katsuki snaps.
It’s not something he should have to tell him. Plenty of people already say it. They put him on magazine covers and take pictures all the time, talking about how beautiful he is. All the cover photos get the same blank, icy stare. Hair blowing in the wind but always covering the left side of his face, just enough. That’s pretty, sure, Katsuki can admit that.
But this. This. Shouto’s so much better like this. His hair is mussed enough to mix red and white in the center to make streaks of pink. It’s all spread out on the pillow, and you can really see the scar that covers his eye and goes all the way up to his forehead. Right now though, when it’s just them, Shouto doesn’t mind. He’s comfortable here, he looks happy. What could be more beautiful than that.
Yeah, it’s completely gross, how horribly soft Shouto’s love has made him.
About a week later they go to a home supply store to get the paint, paint rollers and brushes. They have basically no art supplies at home, since neither of them have a drop of artistic talent between them. Other than aptitude for fashion design, which Katsuki’s picked up against his own will a little bit from his parents.
Shouto acts like this is the first time he’s stepped into a home supply store when they walk in. It turns out the reason for that is because this is the first time.
“Whenever stuff had to be done in our house, there were people that came and did it,” he offers as clarification.
Katsuki’s family wasn’t strapped for cash either, but the Todorokis were just on another level. For a lot of things, surely, but definitely in terms of being stinking rich.
“I know you have some experience painting,” Shouto says while inspecting the paint swatches.
“What are you talking about, Icyhot?”
“Icyhot, haven’t heard that one in a while,” Shouto hums appreciatively. “Really takes me back.”
“Shut up, explain yourself. When the hell have I ever painted anything? I don’t paint.”
“Izuku told me you colored the walls once with permanent markers and you had to help your mom paint over it.”
Having your childhood frenemy/adult best friend be close to your boyfriend really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The sheer amount of ‘baby Kacchan’ stories this guy gets from Deku really has to be stopped at all costs. Come on. He has a reputation to maintain.
“First of all, if he keeps this up, he’s going down. I definitely have more dirt on him. Second, I don’t think holding up the bucket of paint while my mom painted the wall counts as experience.”
“It’s more experience than I have,” Shouto shrugs.
In his peripheral vision Katsuki notices a little girl and her mom looking at them. The girl is hiding behind her mother’s skirts and in her hand is a hero figurine. Not just any hero figurine. It’s the Shouto figurine. They’ve been recognized. Out of costume, Katsuki does a way better job of not getting recognized on the street, Shouto’s hair just makes it impossible for him.
He’s come a long way when it comes to interacting with children who are fans, a long, long way, but Shouto’s always been kinda good with them. Sure, he talks a bit more matter-of-factly, and sometimes introduces himself like he’s reading from his own wikipedia page. But it’s nice. Especially when he shows off his quirk and makes snowflakes or some shit.
This girl looks a bit shy though, so Katsuki gets Shouto’s attention on her behalf, “Hey dumbass, looks like one of your fans is here.”
“Of course, I came in with you,” Shouto says. Katsuki really can’t tell if he’s joking. So he turns him around and shoves him in the direction of the girl and her mom. He should just get it over with.
The second Shouto fixes his eyes on them, and sees his mini-self in the girl’s hand he switches into his ‘hero-Shouto’ mode. Professional time. No more dicking around looking at paint.
She has black hair with little beads in, and she’s looking at Shouto like he’s the coolest thing in the entire world. Maybe Katsuki should go over and tell her about how he almost burned the apartment down last week, and knock him down a peg.
She can’t be more than five years old.
They’ve never really talked about kids, ever. Adopting them or whatever the fuck. They’re still so young so it’s never come up. He likes seeing Shouto with kids though. It warms a part of his heart that a younger him would have killed with fire. Shouto would make such a good dad. Not just because his own was full of shit and he knows exactly how not to go about it. Katsuki just knows it.
Shouto kneels down as he talks to her, and she offers him a tiny notepad with pink sparkles. Oh, autograph time. Katsuki’s gotten pretty speedy at those now. When there are kids (or adults) brave enough to come up and approach him.
Then Shouto’s waving and he figures he’s needed there or whatever.
“He’s a hero too,” Shouto explains to the little girl.
“Oh wow!” she exclaims, and her eyes get really, really big, “Two heroes.”
“Yeah, yeah, this store is about as safe as it can get,” Katsuki signs under Shouto’s name. He makes his signature a little bigger, because as much as he’s softened up over the years, he’s still a competitive little shit.
Eventually the mom has to drag her away, since she seems more than a little star struck by Shouto and possibly nursing the beginnings of a little crush on him. Cute kid. He’s still mine.
“Do you think it looked like me?” Shouto asks as they begin to look at paint swatches again.
“The toy? Pffft. No.”
“Yours look more like you, I’ve seen them around, maybe I should get one. Keep me company when you’re not around.”
“ Please don’t. It’s bad enough you have Deku’s bobblehead.”
In the end they pick a soft green that’s got just about as much yellow and brown in it as green itself. It’s earthy and natural and unobtrusive enough that Katsuki thinks it’d probably be okay to have on his walls for a long time.
“She said she saw me on tv after the incident in Sapporo last summer,” Shouto says as they’re checking out.
Katsuki remembers that. He had watched it on tv too. It had been horrible having to just watch like that without being able to help. Shouto had won, but it hadn’t been easy. The camera had panned towards him all bloodied up in a crater of ice, the unconscious and battered avalanche villain next to him. He had raised his hand to wave to the camera to signal that he was okay, that everything was fine. Only then could Katsuki let out the breath he had been holding, miles and miles away.
“Damn. And hear I was thinking she recognized you from one of your many hair commercials.”
“Hey, Denki told me to say yes to those. He mentioned that if you got it, you should flaunt it.”
“That’s it, never fucking talk to him again.”
Once they get home they put all the paint supplies towards the side of the room, under the shelves where Shouto keeps his collection of succulents. Sometime soon, they’ve been meaning to get a cat, but Katsuki figures keeping plants alive is a good test of their mettle.
With their schedules, they won’t have a free day in common to get the painting done for a while, but it’s nice that they have it for whenever things work out.
After the stuff is put away Shouto pulls him in for a kiss and into his lap.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Huh? For paying for the paint? The way I figured things were going, our funds are pretty much a shared thing anyway.”
“Not for that. I just like that we’re here.”
“Where else would we be?” Katsuki kisses him back, a bit breathless. He’s completely hopeless and stranded in a sea of his own feelings when Shouto hits him with earnestness like this.
They were just in a home supply store for crying out loud. Where are all these emotions coming from?! He does kind of get it though. Lately, they’ve been having lots of good days. It’s kind of ironic, after so many years of being impatient and unhappy and frustrated and angry. These days he spends just a little bit of time with Shouto doing the most random of things and everything is just good and fine. The entire world stills into the little moment when Shouto breathes against his mouth before giving him another kiss. In that moment Katsuki can feel his smile. He can stop for a second to hold his face and drown in his eyes and he’s going to explode. Combust.
It makes no fucking sense. Just fifteen minutes ago on the walk home Shouto asked him if paint can expire and he’s so dumb sometimes and he can be such a handful at home and Katsuki worries about him when he’s doing dangerous things at work even though he believes in him so, so much. It’s just trouble, constant annoyance and mind-breaking stupidity, being in love. But kissing Shouto now, knowing he would die for him and kill for him and anything at all, it makes all the sense in the world.
They get Ei and Izuku to help with the painting. It’s honestly only a two-man job. But it’s been a while since they all got to hang out, and Deku can get really annoying on the phone when they haven’t recently spent time together.
It also really feeds into Katsuki’s knack and passion for project management. Having three people to order around and direct is way better than just one. Even though he swears (frequently) that he’d probably do this better if he was just working alone. Straight edges, people, straight edges. They’re gonna have to live here for at least another year.
“Kacchan, does your lease even allow you to paint?” Deku asks, trying to straighten the edge of the line he’s painting along their window.
He hadn’t thought of that. He looks to Shouto, who shrugs, because of course he didn’t check either. And it was his idea.
“I do what I want,” he says. “Do I look like I care about the rules in the lease?”
“What he means is that it’s a pretty neutral color anyway, when they want to lease the place again to other tenants. It probably won’t matter,” Ei clarifies.
After another hour, Katsuki quits helping them and starts with the food. From the kitchen, he can still see them going at it, and make sure no one’s doing anything too terrible.
There’s still a little left by the time dinner is finished but for the most part, it looks pretty good. Shouto starts off with the favorite color question again, this time for Ei and Deku, but this time Katsuki is having none of it. It’s too obvious.
“Red and green,” he points to each of them in turn. “How could you possibly not know that?”
“You should never assume. By that logic, your favorite color is orange, black or green,” Shouto muses, absolutely unashamed. “You said you didn’t have one.”
“Oh? That’s not true. Kacchan likes blue the most, because of All-Might when we were kids, black in high school probably? And now blue again because of—”
“Finish that sentence, I dare you," Katsuki growls.
Him and Shouto have to finish the room by themselves, staying up past when Katsuki likes to be awake in order to do it. He’s glad they got the chance to start it in natural light, because the color looks a lot different in the artificial light, and in the moonlight too. Still pretty good though.
“We should paint more, I liked this,” Shouto says as he draws the last stroke of paint against the wall, filling in a little gap left by Eijirou.
“Like what, the bedroom? I don’t want to have to paint that too, so soon after this.”
“We could get a canvas, and just splatter paint on it. I’ve seen people do it on the internet. You could use your quirk to make the paint explode in all directions.”
Paint exploding in all directions? Artistic combustion? Where does he even get these weird ideas? That’s it. No more internet. This, and his twitter account are really the last straw.
“I’m not doing that! I’m not gonna just—because you thought it up just now and thought it was a good idea.”
Shouto smiles, and it’s a little too soft, a little too smug.
“What? Spit it out.”
“That’s what you said about painting this room, that’s also what you said about my getting succulents. It’s also what you said about going on a date with me the first time I told you that we should. You have a terrible track record.”
“No, you’re a fucking menace is what it is.” Katsuki snaps, but there’s no bite to it.
“Ah, sorry. Of course,” Shouto grabs his hand. “Coming to bed?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki stops, then gestures around the room with his free hand, “Happy now? Room’s all painted.”
“Very happy,” Shouto confirms, immune to Katsuki’s tone and his feigned annoyance and everything. He really is the dumbest idiot alive.
“Me too.”