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“Katsuki, come look at the cat.”
“What’s she doing?!” he yells from the other room.
“Come look and see.”
No. He is not going to go over there just because his dumb husband wants him to look at their dumb cat. He has more self-control than this. Plus, the last five times he was called over to look at Soba, she wasn’t even doing anything.
His phone buzzes. It’s Shouto, because of course it is.
-Please.
>she even doing anything interesting?
-Yes.
>she’s doing something interesting, not just chillin’ around or some shit
-You don’t trust me?
>no
-Mean.
So he walks over there. Whatever. He was going to have to go over there, anyway. To get to the kitchen, to make dinner. He’s not going there to see Shouto and the cat.
Where is Soba anyway? He doesn’t see her on her cat tree. Shouto isn’t holding her, he’s just sitting in front of the space between their bookcase and the television. Oh. They had gotten a new set of CDs last week, the narrow box is still crammed in here. Soba somehow climbed into it. Out of all the much better places to nap in the apartment. She chose this. Ignoring her soft, plush cat bed, the sofa, or anyone’s lap. This box is where she chooses to sleep. Jeez. Everyone in Katsuki’s life is an idiot, including their cat.
“This what you got me here to see?”
“She can sit almost anywhere, even in the most uncomfortable of places.”
“She’s a real trooper that’s for sure,” Katsuki snorts. Such lies. She requires the most expensive of cat food or she won’t eat at all. What a fucking princess.
She does look cute though. All her fluff pressed up against the sides of the box. Content little scrunched up orange and white face. Shit’s so adorable.
“Take a picture,” he barks at Shouto.
“Already did, posted it too.”
Course he did. He opens the photo sharing app on his phone. The photo’s there, under Shouto’s private account, the one not followed by thousands of delusional fangirls. It’s captioned, ‘Katsuki wouldn’t come and see her’. What a petty ass bitch.
Kaminari’s already commented, ‘i luv her sm. miss if it fits i sits :D bakubro be nicer to ur kid smh’
“Don’t tell all our friends I’m a bad cat dad just because I don’t respond to your every beck and call. I’m a great cat dad!”
“I’m still the favorite.”
He shoves him, but Shouto barely moves. Stupid tall, muscley, clueless…
“It’s just because you can stay still for longer, she probably thinks you’re a scratching post,” he snaps.
“If that makes her happy,” Shouto shrugs, always so genuine. He’s still looking at her with so much love in his mismatched eyes. No. Katsuki tells his brain. You do not find that cute. Stop it and get a damn grip.
Katsuki still can’t help but grab his face, cherishing the briefly startled expression before kissing him on the cheek. He blames the caffeine, even though the last time he had coffee was three days ago.
“You’re also warm, that probably helps,” he offers, placing a second kiss right under his eyes before drawing away, back to their stupid little activity of staring at their sleeping cat in a box. Who even are they?!! The fuck. What the holy hell has love done to him.
“You two must have that in common.”
Huh!? Oh the heat. Shouto’s heat. Maybe. “Shut up.”
“I’m making dinner tonight.”
“Like hell you are.”
“I went over to see my sister a few days ago. She taught me something.”
He considers. Shouto’s sister is a good cook. She also knows him, so she wouldn’t have given him something thats hard to mess up. Shouto’s good at almost everything, fighting for one thing, he had pretty good grades in school too, he’s just...somehow with cooking he just almost always somehow misses the mark. Not for lack of trying though. The trying...especially when it’s Katsuki’s birthday, or even on any random day, it’s nice. He can admit that it’s nice.
“Then it’s fine. But I’m checking up on you every five minutes.”
“See, Soba,” Shouto coos and pets at her neck with his right hand, “He doesn’t trust me in his kitchen.”
“Nor should I.”
“Do you want me not to cook, Kitkat?”
Fuck whoever buys those stupid candy bars, planted the seed of this nickname in his mind (probably Deku). He’s never had one, but he knows that they’re crunchy, and sweet. Some of them come in green-tea flavor. He is not sweet. He does not have a sweet flavor.
“No you should, gotta pull your weight around here anyway. Already did your fucking laundry.” (It was mixed in with his own, since a lot of the times they undress at the same time, and not always for dirty reasons, it was practical)
“Thank you. The recipe. It’s spicy,” Shouto looks at him, and smiles softly, “So I think you’ll like it.”
He’s so pretty when he smiles Katsuki wants to shake him and demand WHY. How can Shouto look so that when he’s just sitting there and doing absolutely nothing. To torture him, obviously. But what else?!
“Go make it then, or I’ll find a box to stuff you in too.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Oh for fuck’s—no. No. Ugh. Actually, if there’s anyone who could actually sit in a large box and relax in it like there’s nothing wrong it would probably be Katsuki’s husband.
And who taught him that line and how long has he been waiting to use it? Menace. He’s a complete menace of ice and fire and ‘come look at the cat, Katsuki’...
“Just go already, Imma check if we have any, uh, other boxes in the closet she might wanna hop around in.”
She looks so happy in there, that narrow little box. There’s probably others she’d enjoy just as much. She could definitely do better than this one. Maybe he’ll try to get her to sit in one with padded insides at least. Maybe he'll stuff one with some newspaper. Not that it matters, she’s so fluffy. Shouto loves pointing that out, all that fluff, ‘just like you Katsuki’. He’s the worst.
“I think she likes this one, part of the appeal might be that it’s a challenge to get in there.”
There better not be some stupid double meaning in there about how getting with him and part of the appeal being how challenging it is to get close. He’s 99% sure there’s not. Since Shouto is always so stupid blunt. He also knows though, it’s the 1% you have to be careful about.
“I’ll just put the others around in interesting places, maybe above our fridge, or in the pantry. Make it a challenge. Yeah.”
“Do it at night, so she won’t see you doing it.”
“Fine.” He was going to be up early morning, when its still dark, anyway. He doesn't actually believe this batshit idea that Soba could see him doing it and that would detract or something.
Shouto better not look smug. Or his micro-expression barely there smug look. Katsuki will smack him. Wedding ring on his hand and all. Right in the shoulder. Or the ribs.
“This is not you getting what you want, this was my idea.”
“I’ve got what I want,” Shouto says, so warm and soft that it makes him blush red all the way to his ears. He’s still petting Soba and not even looking at Katsuki.
He said it to the cat. He said it to the cat, not to you. Don’t have an emotion. Death to emotion. Die. Die. Die!
“Stop hogging her and cook, she’s asleep anyway, you’ll wake her up.”
“Okay,” Shouto gets up, reluctantly, and presses a warm kiss against his mouth as he leaves. “Call me if she does anything interesting.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I won’t.
...He will.