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Katsuki felt a heavy sigh bubbling up in his chest, his feet feeling incredibly heavy as he dragged them from aisle to aisle. It had been a long day. Nothing particularly brutal happened on patrol, just the dime-a-dozen criminals with mediocre quirks that Katsuki suppressed quickly, but he was regretting taking such a long shift. His muscles felt heavy with fatigue but refused to give out, knowing there was still much he had to do tonight.
And now his grocery basket felt like weights in his palm as he filled it up with food for the week. He grimaced when he realized how much there was. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it, he had the luxury of a Pro-Hero's salary, after all, but the idea of lugging it all back to the apartment annoyed the shit out of him.
Whatever, he thought. When he offered to let Denki stay, he hadn’t considered the difference between feeding one mouth and two.
Speaking of Denki, he figured he should ask if the other man wanted anything in particular. He set his basket down with a thud and fished his phone of out his pocket.
me [6:39:02pm]: oi sparky u awake?
The response was almost instantaneous.
dunce-face [6:39:54pm]: yeah
dunce-face [6:40:15pm]: u coming home?
me [6:40:59pm]: im at the grocery store. u want anything?
dunce-face [6:42:10pm]: could u get me more of that melon soda pls
me [6:42:43pm]: ew u want that shit?
me [6:43:11pm]: fine but dont expect me to pay ur dental bills when u rot ur teeth
dunce-face [6:43:35pm]: thanks <3
Katsuki huffed a soft breath of laughter before shoving his phone back into his pocket and heading for the beverage aisle, mentally checking if he had everything he needed to make dinner for tonight.
He tossed 4 bottles of the definitely-radioactive melon soda into his basket and walked towards the checkout, stopping once to take a picture with a little kid who noticed him and ran up, wide-eyed and shouting. When he first started on the Pro-Hero scene, he got irritated with the fans always screaming and clamouring to meet him but, now, he just accepted it as part of the job, as much of a pain as it was.
The walk home was uneventful which Katsuki was grateful for. His life, lately, seemed to never let up. It was just stress after stress after stress. If he wasn’t at work, he was taking Denki to therapy. If he wasn’t taking Denki to therapy, he was grocery shopping. He couldn’t remember the last time he went to the gym (not that he needed it, really) or even sat down to read a book.
It was okay, though. He’d offered, after all, and he was more than willing to put up with a never-ending schedule for Denki. He bit his bottom lip, hard, at that thought.
“I’m home,” Katsuki called as he stepped into the apartment. The front hallway had a direct view of the living room and the first thing he saw was Denki. Or, rather, a lump of blankets on the couch that was suspiciously Denki-shaped. His suspicions were confirmed a second later when, upon the sound of his voice, the lump rustled and Denki’s face poked out.
“Welcome home,” Denki responded, his voice washing over Katsuki and cleansing him of the day he had.
Katsuki picked up, immediately, on the slight hoarseness of Denki’s voice, his complexion rather sallow, in stark contrast to his dark under-eye bags.
He placed the grocery bags down to kick off his boots, shoving his duffle bag full of hero gear into the hallway closet.
Denki watched him from the couch, tired eyes trailing Katsuki as the latter walked over to him, sock-clad feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. The weight on the couch cushions shifted as Katsuki sat down.
“Did you have a good day?” Denki asked, offering him an exhausted smile.
“Eh,” Katsuki’s voice was gruff. He threaded his fingers through Denki’s sunshine-yellow hair. Despite the tangles, it was still miraculously soft. “Did you take your medication? Drink enough water?”
“Yes, mom,” Denki teased but his voice lacked the energy in the sentiment. Katsuki narrowed his eyes, keen at knowing when Denki was stretching the truth.
“I don’t believe you.”
Denki bit down on his lip, averting eye-contact with Katsuki. “I mean, I tried to. I took my meds, at least.”
“Did you leave the apartment today?” Katsuki pressed on.
“…no.” Denki’s voice was small and it dawned on Katsuki that he might be lecturing Denki, ragging on him. He grimaced a little, that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“That’s okay,” Katsuki reassured him, tone softening. “If you’re not up for it, that’s fine.”
Denki was on leave from hero-duty indefinitely. He’d been staying at Katsuki’s after a particularly bad depressive episode that landed him in the hospital in March. It was July now and Katsuki had learned that recovery was a slow, slow process.
He realized it wasn’t what he thought it would be. It didn’t just go uphill as he had assumed it would've when Denki first moved in, it was erratic like a heartbeat. Sometimes Denki made leaps and bounds of progress, accompanying Katsuki to the grocery store and going out to Eijirou’s house, just to spend the next three days, holed up in his room, unable to eat or drink or get up without coaxing from Katsuki. Katsuki knew it was hard on both of them, he could feel the extra tension in his back muscles and the way his movements were slightly weighed down when he fought, but tried his best to be endlessly understanding. He knew Denki needed it, appreciated it, and that was enough for Katsuki.
“Okay,” Denki whispered, sounding lost in thoughts that Katsuki wished he could take away from Denki’s brain. He didn’t know what it was like to feel the way Denki felt, he was fortunate enough not to, but he knew it most definitely sucked ass.
“I got you your damn soda,” Katsuki ran a hand up and down Denki’s arm, trying his best to be comforting. It was sort of clunky and awkward, a roundabout way of showing his caring side but he’d gotten a lot better and he was proud of himself for that.
“Thanks Kat,” Denki mustered up another grin and Katsuki wanted to kiss up the half-smile so bad. But he also prided himself in his newfound self-control.
Katsuki grunted a note of affirmation and stood up with groan, stretching out his shoulder blades. He walked back into the hallway to grab the bags and begin to put the groceries away. The summer sun, about the set, filtered through the big windows of Katsuki’s apartment, leaving the house glowing in yellowy-orange hues.
Shoving things into the cabinets and fridge, Katsuki heard the rustling of footsteps and Denki’s face appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. He looked slightly dizzy and out of sorts, leaning against wall for support.
The way his hair was messy and mused up was far too adorable for Katsuki’s taste and he scoffed at himself, internally.
“Does gyudon and miso soup sound good for dinner?” Katsuki asked and Denki nodded, emphatically. Then, “If you wanna stay with me while I cook, go sit down at the breakfast bar,” Katsuki suggested, eyeing Denki’s tight hug with the wall.
“‘Kay,” Denki murmured. The breakfast bar faced right into the kitchen and Denki plopped down, clumsily, on one of the stools. Silence settled between them as Katsuki started prepping everything, chopping up the scallion and mincing garlic with skilled precision. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, no hint of anything out of place. It was a homely kind of silence and, as Katsuki cooked, he felt like he couldn’t remember a time where Denki wasn’t there.
Selfishly, he realized he never wanted Denki to leave. He'd had that realization numerous times throughout the months, always hitting him in quiet moments like these where things felt so oddly right.
“Anything interesting happen today?” Denki spoke up, head nestled between his folded up arms, drawing circles onto the granite surface of the breakfast bar with his fingers, scraping the edge with his nail.
“Teamed up with Soy-Sauce Face and Raccoon Eyes for a takedown,” Katsuki told him, swirling his chopsticks around in a pan full of oil, starting to stir-fry the beef on the stove with a satisfying sizzle.
“They’re our friends, Katsuki, at least call them by their names,” Denki’s tone was that exasperated one he loved to use when he teased Katsuki. The one he used to use during training, all the way back in high school, when Katsuki wasn't "playing nice."
Katsuki ignored him, the scent of cooked meat deliciously wafting through the kitchen. “Deku stopped by the agency. Nothing else happened. Long and boring fucking day.”
Denki let out a low chuckle. He still laughed a lot, Katsuki had noticed when he first moved in. Even if they were half-assed and forced, he still did his best to laugh and that was sort of admirable in a fucked-up kind of way. Though, Katsuki felt the world might actually come to a screeching halt the day Kaminari Denki stopped laughing.
They chatted, idly, for a while more until the food was ready. Denki helped set the table before the two of them slid into their chairs, bowls of rice, beef, soup and salad placed in front of them.
“Looks so good, Kat,” Denki praised and Katsuki snorted with pride. Katsuki was always big on eating well but, since he started cooking for Denki daily, he was practically obsessive about balanced meals, always making sure to have protein and grain and vegetables.
“Of course it does, who do you think I am, dunce-face?”
Denki clasped his hands together and whispered out a soft, “Itadakimasu,” before lifting his chopsticks and beginning to eat, chewing carefully.
Katsuki finished everything quickly, not realizing just how hungry he’d been, practically running on empty since noon. Denki, on the other hand, only mustered about 3/4 before he couldn’t eat anymore.
“Good job,” Katsuki praised, ruffling Denki’s hair, partially out of affection and partially just to be annoying. Denki grumbled in response, swatting his hand away, to Katsuki’s amusement.
Along with erratic sleeping patterns, Denki suffered with fluctuating eating habits. The image of him in that hospital bed, seemingly nothing but skin and bones, disappearing beneath the folds of the hospital’s white bedsheets, back in March, haunted Katsuki and, from that day forward, he vowed to make sure Denki never looked like that again.
He made a lot of vows in March, actually.
They’d dated on and off through high school and college but the start of their full-time Pro-Hero careers marked the decision that they’d be better off ending their relationship for good. Katsuki couldn't remember how or why they came to that decision, just that they did and he'd thought it was for the best. It had been Katsuki's idea, though, he remembers that vividly.
Through that period of them being broken up, nearly two years, they rarely saw each other outside of frequent team-ups, just once or twice a month (never alone, always in the company of Eijirou, Mina and Hanta) and Katsuki cursed himself, still carrying a burning guilt, that he hadn’t realized just how badly Denki had begun to spiral.
It wasn’t until that fateful March (Katsuki still remembered the exact time he got the call— March 11th at nearly 2pm, right in between his patrol shifts. It had been raining that day). Denki had never removed Katsuki from his emergency contact list and when Katsuki saw him, looking the way he did, impossibly young and lifeless, he had thrown up in the hospital bathroom.
Eijirou had constantly reassured him that it was okay, that no one had known. That it would’ve been impossible because Denki did such a good job of hiding it with bright smiles and witty remarks and it wasn’t his fault but Katsuki didn’t believe him. He should’ve been the one person to see through the bullshit. Red, hot, searing anger burned in his chest. He had been furious at everything; at the situation, at Denki for not reaching out, for hurting himself so badly, and at himself. Mostly at himself, though.
And he’d spent everyday since then, trying to atone for it.
“You wanna do anything special tonight?” Katsuki asked as he gathered up their dirty dishes. “Watch that shitty movie you like so much? What’s it called again?”
Denki hummed, eyes drifting towards the window. Nighttime now blanketed the sky, dark blues painted the atmosphere with a sort of nostalgia that came with summer evenings. Katsuki knew that Denki loved nights; how they used to sneak up to the roof of the UA dorms, well into the early hours of the morning, and watch the stars and talk about nothing. They'd always be exhausted in class the next day, getting reprimanded for falling asleep, but that never stopped them from doing it again and again. That time seemed like three eternities ago.
“Maybe we should go on a walk.”
Katsuki’s hand stilled. “You sure you’re up for that?”
“I’m not a glass doll, Katsuki,” Denki replied, trying to sound as comforting as possible but it did little to put Katsuki’s mind at ease. Still, Katsuki relented.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Get changed and we’ll leave in five.”
Denki nodded, getting up and walking towards the guest room. Well, really, his room.
By the time Katsuki finished putting the dishes in the sink and wiping the table down, Denki emerged with a dark hoodie (Katsuki’s hoodie, he realized) and a pair of shorts. Katsuki didn’t say anything about the fashion choice, fully aware of why Denki chose to hide his arms in public.
“You ready?” Denki asked and they headed out the door.
It was cooler in the evenings, once the sun had set, than it had been all day, a warm rustle of wind blowing through Katsuki’s hair as they walked towards a nearby park.
Denki, Katsuki thought, looked rather pretty. A part of him wanted to take Denki’s hand, kiss him and hold him by the waist like he used to, but the ugly truth was that a relationship was the last thing Denki needed right now.
Still, he couldn’t quell the feelings inside him, as much as he knew it wasn’t the time or place to have them.
They arrived at the park and found a patch of grass to sit down on, Katsuki grumbled complaints about the “fucking dirt,” in his words, the whole time. Usually, the stars were hard to spot because of all the light in the city but today was a particularly clear day and they were able to spot two or three (one might’ve been a helicopter but who really cares?).
“Katsuki?” Denki spoke up, cutting through the silence that settled between them like a blanket.
“Mmm?”
“It’s been four months since it happened.”
Huh, Katsuki thought. He looked down at his phone. I guess it’s July 11th today.
“Oh. So?”
“That’s a long time, don’t you think?” Katsuki didn’t say anything so Denki continued. “Don’t you think I should be further along by now? I shouldn’t be this helpless anymore?”
“Hey, who said you needed to be a certain place at a certain time, huh?”
Denki was quiet for a second then he let out a weak, pitiful sounding chuckle.
“You don’t have to do all this, you know.”
“What?” Katsuki whipped his head to look at the other man, knees curled up towards his chest as Denki stared at the sky. He narrowed his eyes as Denki opened his mouth to respond.
“I know you feel obligated to look after me but you really don’t have to. It probably sucks for you, spending all your time trying to fix everything I broke. I don’t want you to waste all your time on me, Katsuki,” Denki was fighting a losing battle with the tears, welling in his eyes.
“The fuck are you talking about, Denki?” Katsuki snapped, anger edging his tone and Denki turned to look at him, eyes as big as saucers. “You think I’m doing this out of some kind of fucking obligation?! That you’re some kind of fucking charity case to me?!”
A pause.
“I’m not. I’m doing it ‘cuz I want you sorry-ass to be better again, okay? I want you to be okay.”
“Y-you…” Denki’s voice cracked. “You think I can be okay again?”
“Of fucking course,” Katsuki told him, immediately. He wasn’t lying, either, he knew that Denki had it in him to fight. “You know how damn strong you are.”
Denki bit back a sob that was crawling up his throat and Katsuki reached over to wrap an arm around Denki, pulling the other man close. Denki allowed him to let the floodgates open, crying into the crook of Katsuki’s neck. A wet pool of tears growing on his cotton t-shirt as Denki hiccuped, uselessly. If an unwavering pillar of support was what Denki needed, that’s what Katsuki swore he’d be.
“I love you so much, Katsuki,” Denki managed to gasp out, in between shaky sobs.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki replied, roughly, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he thought he might break the skin. “I love you too.”
He held Denki for awhile more, listening to his cries taper off into whimpers then into shallow breaths. Back in high school, he used to smell like body spray and coconut shampoo but now he smelled like Katsuki’s laundry detergent and Katsuki would be lying if he said he didn’t like that scent on Denki. It suited him.
“Should we head home now?” Katsuki asked.
Home. Their home.
“Mmhmm,” Denki murmured as he pulled away from Katsuki’s strong hold. Katsuki stood up first, dusting off the dirt from his sweatpants before extending his arm out. Denki smiled, just slightly, at the gesture and grabbed it, allowing himself to be pulled up by Katsuki’s grasp.
Denki went to bed first, only an hour or so after they got back home. Katsuki was still filling out paperwork for his agency when Denki told him he was going to turn in early. Katsuki nodded and said nothing when he realized Denki walked into Katsuki’s room instead of his own.
A couple hours of mindless busywork that Katsuki absolutely hated led to Katsuki’s thoughts drifting back Denki as they usually did.
He remembered when he told Denki to move in with him until he got better.
“Hey,” he had said, sitting on the edge of Denki’s hospital bed. Denki’s eyes looked sunken in and blank, staring off into space. Katsuki had felt a tight pinch in chest when he saw them like that. His eyes were supposed to be vibrant and full of life, always energetic. “You’re getting discharged this Wednesday and I already arranged for your stuff to be sent to my place.”
Eijirou and Hanta had both made a case for Denki to come stay with one of them, instead, but they'd quickly realized it was a losing battle to fight Katsuki on the decision he’d made and backed off.
“What?” Denki asked, still-gorgeous golden irises peering up at his ex-boyfriend. “Why?”
“You’re staying with me for now, okay?” Katsuki said, more of a command than a request. Denki tilted his head to the side, slightly, in confusion.“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m letting you go back to that shithole and destroy yourself again with no supervision. So you’re coming with me, got it?”
Denki didn’t argue.
Katsuki decided it was time for him to go to bed, too, getting up from the couch with a heave. He yawned, stretching out his arms and walked towards the bedrooms, trying his best not to make any noise (Denki didn’t sleep nearly as much as Katsuki wanted him too, staying up late and getting up early, seemingly perpetually tired).
When he stepped into his room, his eyes were drawn to Denki, curled up beneath his sheets. He looked so right there, like he belonged in Katsuki's bed, blonde hair splayed out on the pillow in an unruly halo, and all the times he wasn’t were just mistakes.
Katsuki managed a soft, subdued chuckle. More than anything, he wanted Denki to get better but he didn’t want him to leave.
Katsuki slid into bed, Denki instinctively rolling over to wrap himself around Katsuki (Damn leech, Katsuki thought, fondly). Katsuki ran his fingers through the blond locks that fell over Denki’s forehead, matted with sweat. Denki’s lips were parted, just a little, as he let out soft breaths, almost-snores but not quite.
He has therapy at 10 tomorrow, Katsuki reminded himself. He had a habit of, at night, always going through the chores and events he had the next day like a mental checklist. And Mina is coming over for dinner at 6. We have to—
“Katsu’i,” Denki slurred in his sleep, burying his face in Katsuki’s side and breaking the other out of his thoughts.
Katsuki, against his better judgement, tilted his head down to press a long kiss into the crown of Denki’s head.
Once all this shit is over, Katsuki decided, closing his eyes, I’ll ask him to move in with me for real.