Chapter Text
“Shocchan?” Izuku darts from the couch to the door, his quirk buzzing under his skin. He can’t tell what apart of it is yelling at him- perhaps every aspect of his quirk, every vestige inside of him is vibrating at this moment.
It all comes to head when he stops, the shocked look on Katsuki’s face morphing into an almost angered fondness. “The fuck are you doing here. It’s been three fucking years, asshole. I deserve an apology.”
Heterochromatic eyes blink, Shouto’s head tilting to the side as he considers the words Katsuki throws at him. “I’m sorry. Did you enjoy the meal?”
“You’re an idiot,” Katsuki says, but he can’t even pretend to have anger in his voice. The confidence with which he carries himself as a hero is gone. All that’s left is the desperate plea for this all to be real. Please just be real.
“Shocchan! What happened?” Izuku asks, as he brings his husband inside, guiding the three of them to the couch where, finally, each spot is filled. One for Izuku, one for Katsuki, and the middle for Shouto, just as it always had been. Shouto couldn’t resist being surrounded by the love of both his husbands.
“The mission went on longer than expected,” he says, as if it isn’t obvious. “There were… there were a lot of people- children, Izuku. Being forced to fight. They’re safe now; but nobody expected this. And we didn’t have a way of contacting anyone without risking their lives.”
The three sit in silence. They don’t want to admit it, but that’s their promise as heroes- to keep everyone safe. Even if it means they have to sacrifice their own comfort just for that. Even if they have to spend three years waiting for each other.
“We thought-”
“Don’t fucking say that Deku.”
Shouto just nods. “I’m sorry. I’m home now.”
“Welcome home,” Izuku says, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of holding back the tears. “Welcome home, Shocchan.”