Chapter Text
Katsuki POV
They don’t talk about that night, not really, but something has changed. Katsuki can sense it as soon as Shouto gets up and sleepily steps into the kitchen. His hair is an impossible mess, red and white strands blurred together. It’s cute. Really fucking cute. But Katsuki isn’t about to admit that. Still, as he sets bowls out on the table and calls for Shouto to join him, he can’t help the little flutter rushing up through his chest.
Shouto slides into the chair across from him, yawning widely and pushing his messy bangs away from his face. “Izuku wants to have dinner,” he says, picking up the little bowl of miso in front of him and taking a slow sip.
“Dinner?” Katsuki slides a bowl of rice over to Shouto, then moves to take a bite of his own breakfast.
“Mhm. He made reservations at a restaurant for tonight.” He takes another sip of miso, licking his lips as he sets the bowl back down.
“Way to give us some warning,” Katsuki mutters, but the thought of spending the evening out with friends actually sounds pretty nice.
“He told me yesterday morning actually, but I forgot to mention it with… everything.” He looks away, eyes fixed on the bowl in front of him.
“Oh, so it’s you who’s late with the info,” Katsuki teases, but there’s no malice to the tone. He’d seen how out of it Shouto looked yesterday. Seen the way he’d shivered and shook on the bathroom floor as he got sick. He remembers what Shouto told him back at the police department. About how he used to get sick whenever it all became too much. Back when he’d been alone. He thinks maybe it’s the body’s way of processing shit when it all becomes too much to deal with anymore. And that maybe it needed to happen. Maybe it was good. As long as he didn’t have to go through it alone. And Katsuki wasn’t going to let that happen.
Shouto’s back to eating again, spinning his chopsticks idly through the rice. It reminds Katsuki of another morning. Months ago. When he’d watched Shouto sit across from him and sip at miso. A morning so similar and yet so different. He remembers Shouto panicking, rushing out and leaving the house. He’d been so upset, so angry. But he thinks he gets it now. Understands, at least a little. Shouto had looked so lost back at his party. So haunted. Even when they’d danced, his eyes were shrouded in darkness and mist, like he wasn’t really there. Katsuki’s heart clenches at the memory. It feels like a lifetime ago now. He likes to think that if he’d known what happened. Known why Shouto was acting so distant, that he might have acted differently himself. And maybe he would have. Certainly things would have been different. But he doesn’t think he could have understood in the same way. But now, sitting across from each other in Shouto’s kitchen, eating food Katsuki made, things feel different. Maybe they do get a second chance. Maybe they get to start again. And fuck, if he’s given the chance, Katsuki’s going to fucking take it.
~*~
They get to the restaurant a little early—Katsuki’s not about to roll up late to an event with an arranged time—but Izuku and Denki are already there.
As soon as he spots them, Izuku waves the two of them over. He’s grinning, face bright and cheerful as he stands from his chair to get their attention. It’s much too jovial for Katsuki’s liking, but he makes his way over just the same, rolling his eyes as Shouto hurries past him to wrap Izuku in a tight hug.
“Fucking saps,” he mutters, taking a seat at the table.
“Oh, come on. You know you love it,” Denki teases. He winks at Katsuki over his drink, tilting his head a little so his eyes glint mischievously.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. As he settles into his seat, he takes a moment to take in the restaurant around them. Their table is out on the patio, and he has to admit the layout is pretty nice. There are lanterns suspended from the wooden beams above the tables and delicate fairy lights crawl up the pillars supporting the structure. If someone described it to him, he would have scoffed and called the design whimsical, but in practice, the owners did a good job with it.
“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, turning to Katsuki and latching onto him for a hug.
He lets it happen, only grumbling a little as Izuku pulls away. “Yeah, yeah. Good to see you too.”
Shouto’s settled himself in the seat next to him and is busily flipping through the drinks menu. His hair flutters a little in the light breeze, ruffling up in a way that makes Katsuki’s mouth go dry.
Hurriedly, he grabs for the water glass in front of him, gulping down a few deep sips. How the fuck is he supposed to get through this dinner with Shouto looking so breath taking. The gentle light from the lanterns illuminates his face in just a way that makes him look almost ethereal. God, fucking damn it. He is never going to get through this alive.
“Look, this one actually lights on fire,” Shouto says suddenly. He shoves the drinks menu in front of Katsuki’s face, leaning over so far his arm brushes against Katsuki’s.
He feels a little dizzy as he looks down at the menu. Can Shouto hear his heart racing in his chest? He must be able to. It’s thudding so fast now, it feels like it’s about to burst.
But Shouto’s still staring intently at the menu, focused completely on the drinks. “It looks a little big, though. Maybe we could share it.”
Katsuki’s heart shudders in his chest. He feels suddenly very dizzy, like the world is tilting around him. “We’re not gonna share a fucking drink,” he bites out, voice just a little bit breathy.
Shouto tilts his head, looking up from the menu to meet Katsuki’s eyes for the first time. “Why not?”
“Because,” Katsuki splutters. He doesn’t have a good comeback for that. His face is heating up. He knows it is. And there’s nothing he can do about it, so he turns away, grabs the menu from Shouto’s hands, and flips through it aggressively. “Get this one. It’s smaller.”
Shouto just blinks at him. There’s something in his eyes. Some emotion Katsuki can’t register. Or maybe he’s just refusing to register it because Shouto can’t be looking at him like that. Not after all this time. Not when—
“Aw, come on. Live a little!” Denki turns to flag down one of the waiters, holding up his own menu. “One of these, please,” he says cheerfully.
Katsuki has a feeling he knows exactly what Denki’s ordering. Fuck.
His suspicions are confirmed a few minutes later when the waiter returns carrying a large fancy glass. He places it on the table, then flicks a lighter and the entire thing bursts into flames.
Shouto’s eyes go wide across the table, reflecting the fire so they glow and flicker in time with the flames. Katsuki can’t take his eyes away. While Shouto stares transfixed at the drink, he keeps his own gaze on the other man, drinking in the sparking brilliance of his eyes. Eyes he hasn’t seen shine like that in a very long time.
When the fire finally flickers out, Shouto turns to thank the waiter, and Katsuki quickly looks away, focusing his attention on the menu in front of him.
“Aren’t you going to taste it?” Denki prompts.
Katsuki doesn’t have to look up to know what expression he has. He’s seen it far too many times over the years. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles under his breath, leaning down to scoop up one of the straws sticking out of the glass and take a sip. He doesn’t bother looking up as he goes in, not wanting to see Denki’s knowing look, and that’s probably his undoing because he doesn’t see Shouto moving as well.
Their heads slam together, foreheads bumping as they both go in for a drink at the same time. “Oi, the fuck?” Katsuki says, pulling back. He brings the straw with him, accidentally splashing some of the drink over Shouto’s face.
Shouto just blinks at him, then dips his head to take another sip of drink. “You should pay attention when you’re drinking. You’re going to get a concussion.”
“What about you?” Katsuki splutters. He can still feel the slight tingle where their foreheads pressed together, but somehow he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with pain.
Shouto just ignores him, going in for another sip. “It’s good, you should try it.”
Katsuki looks away, rolling his eyes. “I’ll wait for you to finish. I’m not risking a head injury.”
“There’s two straws though,” Shouto says, picking up the second straw and waving it a little so Katsuki can see. “We’re supposed to share it.”
“Yeah, Kacchan. You’re supposed to share,” Denki puts in, sounding much too innocent for the mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“It won’t be as good if you wait. All the ice will be melted.” Shouto stirs the drink with one of the straws, then nudges the glass across the table so it’s closer to Katsuki.
There’s no way in hell Shouto doesn’t see what Denki’s trying to do with this whole drink thing. He can’t possibly have suggested they share a drink without realising the connotations to that. Except he’s Todoroki fucking Shouto and he’s painfully oblivious to all things social. Which means there’s a good chance he has no idea the emotional turmoil he’s putting Katsuki through right now and genuinely just wants to share a drink with him, no ulterior motives at all. Fuck Katsuki for falling for the most oblivious man in the world.
Everyone is watching him, Shouto expectant, Denki eager, and Izuku curious. “Fine,” Katsuki says, because what else is he supposed to say. The truth is he really does want to share a drink with Shouto. He wants to sit there and hold his hand and—No. He is not going to go there right now. Can’t go there because Shouto might not pick up on it, but Denki and Izuku most definitely will.
He leans over, taking the straw between his fingers and sipping at the drink. It actually tastes surprisingly good—a little too sweet for his taste, which means Shouto probably loves it. He takes another sip and lifts his head, surprised when his eyes instantly meet Shouto’s.
“Do you like it?”
Katsuki stares at him for a moment before finally finding the words. “Not bad.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Shouto’s lips and Katsuki has to fight the sudden urge to kiss him. No. He’s not going to fuck everything up again. Not when things are finally starting to look up for them. He’s happy staying at Shouto’s apartment. Way too fucking happy to throw it all away on a chance that things might be different this time. That maybe Shouto might see him in that way too.
He pulls out his menu again, flipping through it but not really reading any of the options there. He’s too distracted, too caught up in his own head.
When the waiter finally returns to take their orders, he’s relieved and immediately orders the spiciest curry. Shouto orders soba, because of fucking course he does. Even though they had that for dinner just the other day. But it’s familiar and it makes Katsuki smile, though he hides it by taking another large gulp of their drink.
By the time the food arrives, he’s starting to feel a little tipsy. He doesn’t remember drinking that much, but when he looks at the large glass, it’s basically empty. The sugar hid the alcohol content well, and he’s pretty sure it was stronger than he initially realised.
Shouto’s feeling it too by the looks of it. He seems more relaxed, shoulders less tense and expression a little looser. He’s smiling more, even laughing a little while he talks to Izuku about something Katsuki can’t quite process. A movie they both watched, or something. Katsuki isn’t sure and doesn’t really care. He’s content just to watch. To take in every little twitch of Shouto’s lips and the way his brows scrunch together when he’s thinking. There’s still a light breeze running over the balcony, blowing Shouto’s long bangs into his eyes. Katsuki’s fingers itch to reach out and brush them back, but he remains frozen. Still and silent. Simply watching.
When their food arrives, Katsuki digs in quickly, shovelling spicy curry into his mouth so fast he barely feels the burn against his tongue. Though maybe that has more to do with the alcohol fizzing through his brain, shifting things just enough so the world seems a little out of focus. He needs to get himself under control. Needs to eat something so everything comes back into focus and he doesn’t end up doing something stupid.
Partway through the meal, he gets up from the table, mumbling something about finding the bathroom as he pushes back his chair. He needs to clear his head, and he really does need to use the bathroom, so it isn’t actually a lie. He feels a little sad as he leaves the table, already missing Shouto’s light laugh and low, melodic voice. It’s stupid. He can’t think about that. He needs to get himself under control.
As he’s washing his hands, he blinks up at himself in the mirror, taking in his slightly smudged reflexion. There’s water on the mirror, probably from when he splashed it over his face. Just to clear his head a little. He’s glad he thought to use waterproof makeup. Otherwise it would be smudged all over his eyes and he’d be even more of a fucking mess. Fuck this. Maybe he should just go home. Claim he’s tired and wants to go to bed early. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He steps out of the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him with a little too much force. As he makes his way through the bustling restaurant, the world seems to shiver around him. It feels almost like he’s in a dream. He’s tired, he thinks. Tired and sad and he really does need to go home. He’ll have to take the bus. Neither him nor Shouto are in any state to drive right now.
He walks out onto the balcony, pushing the large glass door open with one hand. A sound catches his attention and he frowns, turning his head as he exits the restaurant. And slams straight into someone. “Fuck, sorry,” he says, whipping his head around as he takes a step back.
“Katsuki.”
Katsuki’s mouth goes dry. Shouto’s standing in front of him, all dark lashes and pretty two-toned hair. He tilts his head, lips pulling together in a frown. His brows are doing that cute thing where they scrunch up again and fuck Katsuki because he can’t take this.
“Are you alright?” Shouto asks, voice low and soft.
“Fine,” Katsuki growls, but it comes out more as a huff with how dry his throat is. He should have ordered some water along with the fancy cocktail.
Shouto’s head tilts to the side, bangs shifting with the motion to fall over his right eye. He reaches up a hand, brushing them back. “Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”
“Yeah, you ordered the strongest fucking drink in this whole place.”
“Oh.” Shouto blinks. His eyes are fully visible now with his hair pushed to the sides. The light of the twinkle lights reflect across their surface, shimmering like little fireflies.
Katsuki opens his mouth, feels his breath catch in his throat, but no words come out. He simply stares, frozen in time, as he watches Shouto take a step forward.
He looks a little nervous, slightly uncertain. It isn’t much. No one else would be able to notice, but Katsuki’s known Shouto long enough to recognise the slight anxiety.
Shouto takes another step forward, hand reaching out, then falling back to his side. “I wanted to talk to you. Away from…” He breaks off, gesturing over his shoulder in no particular direction, but Katsuki thinks he knows what he means.
His throat is so tight now, he feels like he can’t breathe. He squeezes his hands at his sides, heart thundering in his chest.
Shouto’s still standing there, eyes staring holes into Katsuki’s soul. “I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he says.
The words are simple, but Katsuki can feel the emotion behind them. He doesn’t dare to breathe. Part of him wants to look away, to run before Shouto can say whatever it is he’s going to say. Because there’s no way this is going the way Katsuki wants it to go. He doesn’t have that kind of luck. Shouto’s probably going to tell him to leave. That he can’t stay at his apartment anymore. That he was only doing it to help Katsuki get back on his feet and now that he’s doing a little better, he needs to find somewhere else to live. He swallows, fights the sudden stinging in his eyes as he clenches his hands into fists. “It’s fine. You don’t have to make it into a big deal. I can look for a new apartment.” He looks away, unable to meet Shouto’s piercing gaze any longer.
“What?” Shouto says. He sounds surprised, shocked even. Confused.
Did Katsuki get it wrong?
“What are you talking about? I don’t want you to move out.”
Katsuki doesn’t dare to breathe. His heart is thudding so fast now, he can feel it pulsing in his eyes. It’s distracting. He doesn’t think he can keep this up for much longer. He’s a little dizzy now and he still can’t look at Shouto because what the fuck is happening? “You don’t?”
Shouto takes another step forward, closing the distance between them in one powerful stride. He takes Katsuki’s hand in his, fingers moving to slowly uncurl Katsuki’s clenched ones. “I want to kiss you.” He says it firmly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like everything in his life was leading up to this moment and now it’s here.
Katsuki sucks in a shuddering breath, cuts off with a cough. Fuck. Did he hear that right? “You want to… what?” He probably sounds like a total idiot, floundering for words like Izuku when he can’t figure out what to say, but he’s tipsy and reeling from the words he’s still not sure are real.
“I want to kiss you,” Shouto repeats, tone just as even as the first time. “Can I?”
Katsuki can’t speak. His head is swimming, thoughts swirling together until he can’t make sense of any of them. All except one. The most important thing in that moment. Shouto wants to kiss him. Shouto fucking Todoroki wants to kiss him right here, right now. On this restaurant porch. And fuck everything, Katsuki’s been waiting for this moment longer than he can remember. “Fuck,” he says, breathy and eager. “Yes.”
Shouto doesn’t hesitate. He slides his free hand up and around Katsuki’s face, cupping his chin so his head tilts up.
Katsuki goes with the motion, letting himself be guided by Shouto’s strong hands.
Shouto blinks, once, twice, and then his lips press against Katsuki’s. It’s gentle at first, like he’s finding his footing, but then his fingers slide over Katsuki’s chin to rest smoothly against his cheek and he deepens the kiss.
Shouto’s lips are warm, smooth and tantalising in a way so much better than Katsuki had ever imagined. He’d dreamed about this moment. Woken in the middle of the night hot with sweat and an embarrassing stickiness in his pants. But nothing compares to actually experiencing it.
Shouto presses forward, teeth clacking against Katsuki’s in his eagerness, but Katsuki doesn’t care. It’s hot and passionate and perfect. Everything they are and could ever be.
Shouto’s the first to pull away, panting almost as he tries to drag in air. “You’re so pretty,” he breathes, eyes wide and pupils so dilated there’s almost no colour to his irises.
They stare at each other another moment, drinking in the energy rushing between them. And then Shouto’s pulling him into another kiss. His fingers scrabble at Katsuki’s shirt, tugging for purchase as he holds him close.
Katsuki’s head spins further out of control, his entire world blurring out of focus until the only thing he registers is Shouto. Shouto holding him close and biting hungrily at his lips. Shouto letting out little gasps of breath that fall hot against his neck. Shouto mumbling words of praise he can’t quite make out between kisses. He still isn’t quite sure if this is real, but even if it isn’t, he’s going to enjoy every second of it.
It doesn’t last long enough, but Katsuki thinks no amount of kissing Shouto would be enough. He wants more. Longs to be pressed up against Shouto’s body, feeling his gentle fingers in his hair and the hot breath on his neck. But they’re here for dinner and they can’t stay there. Any longer and things are sure to escalate into something more. Something that definitely isn’t appropriate for a restaurant.
“We should go back to our table,” Shouto says, words coming out breathy and a little hoarse. His hair is a mess, red and white strands mixed in an impossible mess.
“Hold on, you’re a fucking mess.” He reaches forward, fingers moving to try and straighten out Shouto’s hair. He thinks it makes a difference, but it’s hard to tell and he’s still drunk on the moment. It feels like he’s swaying back and forth, like the room is shifting ever so slightly. There’s no way in hell Izuku and Denki will overlook this. They’ll know as soon as they walk up to the table.
“It’s fine,” Shouto says, gently knocking Katsuki’s hand away from his hair. “Izuku already knows.”
What? The actual fuck? Did Shouto tell Izuku he was planning to kiss Katsuki tonight? Does that mean Shouto’s been thinking about this for a long time. Does that mean he’s liked Katsuki for a long time? He wants to ask all of this, find some solid answers, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a hoarse, “What?”
Shouto reaches out, brushing a hand through Katsuki’s own hair. “You look perfect.” And then he’s sliding his hand into Katsuki’s own, squeezing once before turning and leading him back to their table.
Izuku and Denki are absorbed in conversation, but as soon as they step up to the table, both heads turn.
“Oh my god! Did you do it? Did it finally happen?” Denki squeaks. He bounces up in his chair so fast his knees knock against the table, sending a glass of water spilling over the top.
“Denki…” Izuku says, scooping up the glass before it can fall to the floor and break. He doesn’t bother with the water though, turning to beam at the two of them standing hand in hand. “You did it. Didn’t you? Oh I’m so happy! I can’t believe you both have been sitting there pining forever and I couldn’t do anything. Do you know how hard that is? You’re both so stubborn and I—” He cuts off, grin widening as he fully takes in the situation. He scrabbles at the table, trying to find one of the menus in the mess of dishes and the now soaked table cloth. “We need drinks. Denki, help me pick out some drinks. We have to celebrate.”
Katsuki can feel the blush spreading across his cheeks. He knows his ears are turning red, but he doesn’t have the capacity to care. He’s just happy. Perfectly and inexplicably happy.
“Izuku, the table cloth,” Shouto says, reaching forward and trying to swipe the sodden cloth away from his friend.
“Don’t worry about that right now! Oh my god, Shouto…” He looks up, gaze moving between the two of them. There are tears glistening in his eyes, sparking in the golden light from the lanterns.
“Don’t cry, nerd. The table’s already soaked enough,” Katsuki says, but he’s smiling. It’s a real smile, one that reaches up to his eyes and fills his entire being. He turns to Shouto, meets his eyes and leans a little closer to him. They can celebrate now. Enjoy the moment. And then they can go back to Shouto’s apartment. Just the two of them. There will be time to talk and time to figure everything out. For now he just wants to live. Drink in this moment and frame it in his mind forever. It’s perfect, and he never wants that to change.
“Let’s get those drinks,” he says, and pulls Shouto back into his seat.