Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Izuku never meant for this to happen. He never meant for things to get so out of control. He’d calculated all the possible risks, all the potential outcomes… Kacchan always told him his blinding optimism was his greatest flaw, that he always assumed things would turn out in the end.

Kacchan was right. He’d calculated the risk, but he never actually thought they’d get caught.

The first time had been purely an accident. He and Shouto usually had dinners on Wednesday nights after their patrol shift was over—well, if you could count it as dinner, given that their shift actually finished closer to 2 AM. This particular patrol had been a rough one; they hadn’t been but two steps outside of the agency before they were called to an overpass nearby where a villain had launched an attack during peak rush hour. Izuku could still hear the screams echoing in his ears long after they’d managed to clear the rubble and rescue all of the civilians trapped beneath the collapsed structure.

Well, almost all of the civilians.

It was never easy to lose people, but it was always more difficult when their families were nearby, pleading and crying for someone to do something. And Izuku had tried, he’d tried with everything he had, but it wasn’t enough. Time was the perpetual enemy of heroes, it seemed.

He and Shouto ate in silence that night, both too exhausted and depressed to make much conversation. His phone went off mid-meal, letting him know that Kacchan wasn’t going to be home until later that day; he’d taken a double-shift to ensure coverage since several heroes had been called to the overpass and a couple of them had been injured during the fight. It stung a bit. He knew someone had to do the work, but he’d selfishly hoped it wouldn’t be Kacchan. He knew heroes weren’t supposed to need saving, but he was starting to feel like he was trapped under rubble himself.

News coverage of the attack played in the background in what had to be the poorest timing in the history of all timing. Before he knew it, his cheeks were coated in fresh tears and his take-out box was being lifted out of his hands and set on the table nearby. Shouto surrounded him with half-warm hugs and calm reassurances that there was nothing they could have done differently. Shouto surrounded him with him with fingers through his hair and soft hushing noises that soothed his anxieties. Shouto surrounded him with tight heat and low moans telling him how loved he was, how special.

It was an accident. It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Except it did, over and over and over. At first, it only happened during Wednesday nights after they had dinner. He told himself it wasn’t like a date or anything, but looking back, it really felt like it. Shouto didn’t have the same issues with going out to dinner that Kacchan did. Their dinners were the closest thing to a date night Izuku had gotten in a long time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the little at-home dates he and Kacchan had—they were cozy and he appreciated that he always got to pick the movie, even though Kacchan usually fell asleep halfway through.

Nothing changed between him and Kacchan, not really. Izuku still loved him, still wanted him… It was just nice to be needed once in a while. Kacchan was independent and headstrong. He didn’t ever need anyone. It was one of the things Izuku admired about him, but also one of the things that made him hard to get close to sometimes.

Shouto…Shouto needed Izuku. Needed him like air or water, and clung to him during sex like he would fall to his death if he didn’t. It was nice to feel needed by someone he could touch. Shouto was so good, so pliant, so everything-not-Kacchan, which was probably the reason he kept going back. With Shouto, Izuku had more than an ounce of control, and everything seemed so much easier. No arguing over every little imagined slight… No cold distance or long periods of silence when something was bothering him… They were just the right amount of competitive, pushing each other forward instead of down. Best of all, there was no long history between them that either felt the need to apologize for.

Still, Kacchan was Kacchan. He wasn’t so easy to just walk away from. Izuku had loved the explosive hero since long before he ever knew what love was. His childhood friend was a constant in his life, their paths always seeming to cross, even when they were trying to stay away from each other. Their relationship seemed inevitable, an unavoidable destination, no matter how many times they tried to change course.

The closer he got to Shouto, the heavier the guilt weighed on him. Shouto was starting to lose patience with Izuku, tired of the sneaking around and the constant goodbyes at the end of the night. Izuku felt the same, but he couldn’t leave Kacchan, could he? If he left, it would hurt Kacchan, and he didn’t deserve that. He might not have always been the easiest to live with, but Izuku never doubted that Kacchan loved him. Even when they fought, Kacchan had grown careful not to go too far, and he always eventually apologized in some way. The guilt compounded every time Kacchan asked about the increasing amount of time he and Shouto were spending together, but by that time, the hole was too deep to see out of. So he lied. He lied, and Kacchan believed him. Because Kacchan trusted him.

He never meant for it to go as far as it did. It was an accident.

The Hero Billboard Chart JP ceremony was a stressful event, no matter where you fell on the leader board. In fact, Izuku would argue it was a much more enjoyable event when he was still a new hero, working hard to climb the ranks and prove himself. Every little milestone was cause for a massive celebration. When he reached the pinnacle of the industry, it was one of the best nights of his life. He’d finally achieved his dream and felt like he was worthy of the gift he was given. Even Kacchan was proud of him. They celebrated with their friends into the early hours of the morning, when he and Kacchan went home and made love until they passed out from exhaustion.

It took Kacchan a little while to catch up, and it was starting to wear down on both of them. Izuku kept trying to tell him that it had nothing to do with his abilities and everything to do with how people perceived him. There was no reason for him to doubt his abilities as a hero. He was still amazing; it was just taking people longer to realize it.

After years of struggle and frustration, the night came when all of Kacchan’s hard work paid off, at last. Izuku still remembered his widely-stretched grin, lighting up his entire face. He’d been proud of himself before—most of his life, in fact—but there was a peaceful satisfaction that had settled over him.

Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he looked so beautiful.

Once the ceremony ended, they’d all planned to go out with their friends and celebrate. Several of their closest friends had also jumped in rank, so there was excitement all around. Izuku excused himself to go to the restroom before they left, knowing it would be at least another hour before they got organized enough to actually go to the next place.

The second he rounded the corner, Shouto was on him, his hands and mouth on every exposed patch of skin. Izuku should have stopped it then, but he found himself desperately chasing the same heat. They collided together in a bathroom stall, Izuku gripping Shouto’s hips so hard he could practically see the formation of bruises along the pale flesh where his fingers had been. Shouto was breathing in his ear so heavily, he almost didn’t hear the broken sound of his name behind him.

“…Izuku?”

Kacchan almost never called him by his given name, reserving it for more intimate moments between the two of them. Casual conversation, fights, during work—he was always “Deku” then. The second his name reached his ears, he froze, still seated deep inside of Shouto.

He was a coward. He couldn’t even bring himself to turn around, unable to face the man whose trust he’d so thoroughly shattered. Shouto would later tell him it was better that he didn’t, that he didn’t even look like the same person.

He hadn’t acted like it, either. Izuku expected screaming, cursing, threats of violence… What he got was a deafening silence as Katsuki turned around and quietly left the bathroom, disappearing into the night. He wouldn’t resurface for another week, when he stopped into the apartment just long enough to grab more clothes and shove them into his overnight bag. Even then, he didn’t speak to Izuku. He refused to so much as look at him. They coordinated their separation through Kirishima, who was none the wiser as to why they were splitting—a fact that still stunned him to this day.

It would have been so easy for Katsuki to tell everyone what a horrible person Izuku was, to ruin both his and Shouto’s careers, but he didn’t. The worst thing he did the entire time was vandalize Shouto’s office as a means of giving his resignation, and even that was mild behavior for the ultra-violent hero.

But life went on. Somehow, the world kept turning, like everything Izuku knew didn’t fall apart in one terrible moment. Before long, he’d moved into Shouto’s apartment, and they went about their days as if the situation was totally normal. He and Katsuki seldom interacted; the fact that their agencies operated in different areas of the city made that easy. What little conversation they did have was to Kirishima’s credit, as he tried valiantly to get the two to reconcile. Eventually, talking became easier, until he was able to call on occasion and check on the other man. He was still Kacchan, after all, and Kacchan was still important to Izuku, even though he hurt him.

When Shouto proposed, he thought he’d be happier. He’d always dreamed of getting married, committing himself to the person he loved most, surrounded by his closest family and friends. His dreams were…a little different then, admittedly. The groom’s eyes were a little sharper, his arms a bit stronger.

He didn’t mean for things to get as far as they did. Yet, somehow, he found himself in a tux that cost more than half of his entire closet combined, staring out at a sea of people who had no idea that he was struggling the entire time.

“Thank you for choosing me.” The words sounded painful to Izuku’s ears, and it took every ounce of will not to whip his head around and look in the back corner of the room where Katsuki and his friends sat. Katsuki and his date. Yo Shindou. He remembered the man from their high school days and the interactions they’d had as professionals since then. It didn’t take long for Izuku to determine what kind of person Shindou really was—a pretty face with a rotten core. No doubt, he was using Katsuki for his own reasons, and that didn’t sit well with Izuku.

There wasn’t anything he could really do about it, though. Katsuki stated in no uncertain terms that Izuku needed to stay out of his business. As much as it killed him, he needed to respect the boundaries Katsuki set, especially if there was any hope of them ever being friends again.

Not that Izuku assumed they would. He just…hoped they would…eventually…

While Kacchan hadn’t returned the hug Izuku gave him before the ceremony, he didn’t outright reject him either, so that was a good sign! Maybe, with a little time and space, he would come around. It certainly looked like it was possible, especially when Izuku saw him standing next to Shouto just to the side of the dance floor. Neither of them looked particularly happy, but that was to be expected. The important thing was that there was less than a body’s space between them and neither of them looked angry.

He’d had so much hope—so much, that he’d completely forgotten that there was another person who’d inserted himself into the situation. The next time he looked in the same direction, Shouto was standing there, but Katsuki was nowhere to be seen. Worst of all, Shouto looked livid, his fists clenched as he stared off into the other side of the room. Izuku excused himself and ran to his new husband, trying to determine what had happened. Was there a fight? Had Katsuki said something? He had to find out, and fix it, if possible.

“ Hey, what’s wrong? You look angry.”

“ You just had to invite Bakugou,” Shouto seethed, mouth set into a deep frown. “I wasn’t comfortable, but I agreed, because he’s your oldest friend, and you felt you owed it to him. Maybe next time, you’ll listen to me when I tell you something.”

“Wha-what happened?” Izuku asked, panic welling up in his chest. “D-Did you fight? Did he say something that upset you?”

“Oh, he didn’t need to. He has Yo Shindou doing his dirty work these days,” Shouto spat.

“Shouto, what did he say?”

“Apparently more people are aware of…the origins of our relationship…than we thought. Based on Bakugou’s reaction, I don’t think anything will come of it, but you need to deal with this. Now.”

Izuku reached out to comfort his partner, a pang radiating in his chest when Shouto flinched away from him. He tried to brush it off, but it hurt. They hadn’t even been married for a full day, and they were already fighting. He needed to figure out a way to make things better.

“I’ll talk to them,” Izuku said firmly. “Where did they go?”

Shouto nodded in the direction of the restrooms. “They disappeared into the men’s bathroom some time ago. As far as I can tell, they haven’t left, and the door is still on the hinges, so we know Bakugou hasn’t killed anyone yet.”

“Good. You stay here, I’ll go deal with Kacc-Katsuki.” He turned and strode off to the bathroom, determined to have a stern discussion with his childhood friend about taking his grievances out on the wrong people.

He wished he hadn’t. He should have known better, should have waited for them to come out before confronting them. Karma paid him a visit that day in the sounds of slapping skin and heavy breathing echoing through the nearly-unoccupied room. There was no mistaking what he’d heard, even though it was nothing like anything he’d heard from his ex-lover before. He almost thought Shouto had been mistaken, that someone else was using the last stall…

Then he’d heard it. The familiar groan. The voice he could identify in his sleep, using words he never dreamed he’d use.

“Fuck yes. Harder, Yo. Come on, I know you have it in you.”

“Shit, Katsuki, I’m—”

Izuku froze, nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach as he listened to someone else do things to his former lover, things he had never even dared ask for. Even worse, Katsuki sounded like he loved it.

When he could move again, he left the restrooms as quickly and quietly as his body would allow. If he hadn’t been at his own wedding, he would have fled, but the second he returned to the reception, he was approached by a guest—someone from the agency whose name he couldn’t remember because he was too busy fighting the urge to vomit.

The feeling didn’t subside as the night went on. Eventually, Katsuki and Shindou emerged from the bathroom and shyly made their way back to their table. Shindou looked as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but Katsuki’s pants were noticeably wrinkled and he winced when he sat. Every time Izuku glanced in their direction, they were glued at the hip, Shindou’s arm slung across Katsuki’s shoulders. They were holding hands. They were kissing in front of everyone.

Katsuki and Izuku never did any of those things when they were together. The body was that of Katsuki Bakugou, but he wasn’t the Kacchan that Izuku knew. He couldn’t decide if that made him angry, or broke his heart. It felt like the night couldn’t end soon enough, but finally, it did. Izuku felt strangely forlorn watching Katsuki’s back disappear as he left the room.

Wedding nights are supposed to be magical, a chance for giddy newlyweds to spend time caught up in one another, oblivious to the world. Instead, Shouto went home, insisting that Izuku stay at the suite they’d rented for the night. He needed time, he said. He didn’t want to start their official life together with a fight. Izuku thought it was a little late for that, but he couldn’t argue with the sentiment.

He didn’t sleep at all that night. Every time he closed his eyes and the dark started to come, the sounds he heard in that bathroom would surface from his memories and he’d jolt awake, heart ramming violently like a jackhammer in his chest. Izuku couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what it was like for Kacchan—no doubt it was worse, since Kacchan had actually seen them. That, and they weren’t in a relationship anymore. Izuku had no valid reason to feel this way. The memories and questions spun through his mind, haunting him and keeping him from rest. When he went home the next day, it was apparent Shouto hadn’t slept much, either. Izuku suggested they take a nap together, aching to find the familiar comfort in his husband’s arms, but Shouto didn’t seem interested, instead choosing to go into the agency office for the afternoon.

It made Izuku sad, then it made him furious. How could Shouto do that, over something Yo Shindou had said? Did Izuku really mean so little to him that a half-rate hero whose disruptive power clearly extended past his ability to level buildings could come between them? He’d given up everything for them. He’d given up the one person he’d loved his entire life, destroying their friendship in the process. And for what? For Shouto to act like a child over something so trivial? Who cared who knew what at that point? It wasn’t like any of it was a lie. They’d done horrible things to Kacchan. Both of them deserved much worse than a flippant comment from someone who wasn’t even involved.

Eventually, his anger subsided, but the distance remained. For whatever reason, Shouto refused to touch him, limiting their interactions to brief conversations throughout the day by providing close-ended answers to any questions Izuku asked him. This behavior continued for days, until Izuku eventually had no choice but to confront his husband. By the end of the third consecutive week of getting the cold shoulder treatment, he’d had more than enough.

Shouto had dressed for bed and was headed into his office, where he’d been sleeping on a futon since Izuku came home the day after their wedding. Izuku grabbed his wrist tightly in the hallway, causing him to pause, mismatched eyes darting from Izuku’s hand to his face.

“Izuku, it’s late.” His voice was rough and unused. “We have an early morning patrol. You really should get some sle—”

“Are you ever going to be done being mad at me?” Izuku interrupted, his grip tightening.

Shouto sighed, raking a hand through his bi-colored locks. “I’m not mad.”

“Then what do you call whatever this is?”

“Whatever what is? Things have been normal. We’ve been busy.”

Izuku’s lower lip trembled. He bit down on it briefly, as if trying to cut off the urge to cry with his teeth. “This is normal? You’re really saying this when you’re on your way to go sleep in your office again?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t had much time for you,” Shouto said, his tone as deadpan as ever. “But I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Shouto,” Izuku warbled, the tears becoming harder to hold back with every passing second. He was frustrated, so frustrated. If there was a problem, they could tackle it. He could think of ways to fix it. He couldn’t fight a phantom problem without a name.

“You’re upset.” Shouto said it matter-of-factually, without emotion, like he was taking note of the weather.

Gritting his teeth, Izuku smeared the wetness from his eyes with his forearm and glared at his spouse. “And you’re not. Don’t you see anything wrong with that?”

Shouto’s turquoise eye twitched, his mouth set into a tight frown. “Of course I’m upset. I don’t see what screaming at you in the hallway is supposed to accomplish. Not everyone needs to yell their emotions, Izuku. Most of us aren’t overgrown children.”

To anyone else, it might’ve sounded like Shouto was insulting his husband, but Izuku knew better. That tone of disdain was reserved especially for a small handful of people, and there was only one he could have been referring to in that moment.

“So this is about what Kacchan said to you.”

“Partially,” Shouto confirmed, his tone as cold as the ice quirk he favored. “Mostly it’s about you.”

“M-Me?” Izuku asked, stunned. “What about me?”

Wrenching his wrist away from Izuku’s grasp, Shouto folded his arms over his chest. “Were you ever going to tell me that you’re still in love with Bakugou, or did you just assume I was stupid and wouldn’t notice?”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

Izuku shook his head violently. “It’s-it’s not that I didn’t hear you; I just don’t understand.”

Shouto’s thin, mismatched eyebrows lowered in disapproval. “Denying it won’t do you any good. You spent half of the night—of our wedding reception, mind you—staring at him and Shindou. You never told me what happened when you confronted them, and every time I asked you, you wouldn’t respond. It was like I was standing next to a lifeless doll, Izuku. People kept asking me if you were sick.”

“I…” There was nothing Izuku could say. As far as his behavior was concerned, he’d been caught red-handed. He hadn’t meant to be so preoccupied, but he seldom had control over what his mind decided to fixate on. The more important thing was the first part of the accusation. Of course he still loved Kacchan. That wasn’t anything that would ever change, no matter what happened between them. But in love with him? That was a different matter entirely.

“You…?”

“Shouto, listen to me,” Izuku said, pulling Shouto’s hand loose from where he had it tucked into his elbow. His partner tried to pull away again, but Izuku held on strongly. “No, listen to me, damnit. I really need you to hear me. You’re right. I…I wasn’t myself that night. I walked in on something I shouldn’t have, and it shocked me a little, I guess.”

Strands of Shouto’s hair fell into his face as he tilted his head curiously. Izuku smiled and tucked the errant pieces behind his lover’s ear.

“You walked in…on them?” he asked quietly, finally understanding the weight of the situation.

“Sort of, yes,” Izuku admitted, feeling his cheeks heat reflexively. “I-I mean, I didn’t see anything, b-but I heard…and then I guess I was just so-so stunned I started tuning everything else out.”

“Okay,” Shouto said slowly, his tone skeptical.

“A-And you’re right, you’re absolutely right. You didn’t deserve that,” Izuku continued quickly, grabbing onto both of Shouto’s hands. He dropped to his knees, looking up at Shouto with pleading eyes. “But Shouto, I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep living in this house having you here and not here all at the same time.”

“Glad you understand what it feels like,” Shouto murmured, lowering his eyes as his face flushed.

“I do. I do, and I’m so sorry. But I promise, it’s not what you think it is.”

Shouto sucked his lips in, which he frequently did when he was thinking something he wasn’t certain he should say. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was usually nothing good.

“What?” Izuku asked, wanting to get everything out in the open and put an end to the frigid atmosphere once and for all.

“Shindou said…he said something that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed. Of course he did. Yo Shindou was starting to be a common denominator in a lot of his problems lately. “What did he say?”

“I’m sure he was trying to be facetious, but he basically implied that since you were still with Bakugou when we started sleeping together, that you would ultimately do the same thing to me.”

“He what?”

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Shouto’s expression returned to its usual passive state. “I didn’t think anything of it originally, but the more I considered it, the less crazy it sounded. Everyone thought you and Bakugou were inseparable, but that turned out to be wrong. What’s to say this won’t end the same way?”

Jumping to his feet, Izuku began to pace the length of the hall. Shindou was clearly making an attempt to disrupt his life—why else would he pursue Kacchan? Why else would he say something like that to Shouto? There had to be an ulterior motive in play, and the strategy practically reeked of Yo Shindou. He’d proven to be devious and cunning during their provisional hero licensing exam, and apparently, not much had changed since then. He would need to be dealt with.

First, however, he needed to clean up the damage Shindou had caused. Izuku came to a stop in front of Shouto again, planting his hands on his hips.

“Do you really believe that?”

Shouto’s eyes darted to the wall. “I…I don’t want to, but I can’t deny it’s a possibility. You were seeing both myself and Bakugou at the same time before he caught us.”

Izuku cupped his hands around Shouto’s face, forcing him to face him. “Shouto, that would never happen. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“What about Bakugou?” Shouto asked accusingly, pale face pinching into a frown. “What if he decided he wanted you back? What then?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Izuku couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief, which only made Shouto’s frown deepen. Izuku pulled at the corners of his mouth to discourage the motion.

“What, it’s not so ridiculous, is it?”

“It is,” Izuku insisted. “I had a talk with him before the ceremony. He said I should make you my priority, and I agree.”

Shouto’s hands reached up, wrapping around Izuku’s wrists. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to him?”

Izuku shrugged. “It didn’t seem important at the time. I probably would have said something after things calmed down a bit. He wasn’t wrong, though. What happened with us, it wasn’t great, but it happened. We can’t take that back. We can only look at what’s important going forward, and to me, that’s you.”

Shouto let out a deep breath, his eyes sliding closed in a look of relief. He rested his head against Izuku’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the other hero’s waist.

“Okay. Okay…”

The days that followed were still tense, but things improved as time went on. Shouto started sleeping in the bedroom again and they slowly fell back into their routine. Even though things were normalizing, something still nagged at Izuku: Yo Shindou…what was his end game? Was he trying to destroy Izuku’s personal life so that his rank would eventually slip as well? That was the only thing that made sense.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen on Izuku’s watch. He’d already patched things up with Shouto and Kacchan would eventually come to see he was being used. That fake smile was only going to get Shindou so far. Izuku wanted to warn him, but he didn’t want to push Kacchan further away, not when they had just started showing signs of possibly being friends again.

So he did the next best thing—he asked Kirishima what he thought. Kirishima knew Kacchan better than anyone these days, so he’d know what was going on. Unfortunately, the only information he was able to get from the hardening quirk user was that Kacchan had been fairly mute on the subject. He seemed happy, but that was about all Kirishima knew. Even the tabloids turned out to be useless; Izuku scoured articles in all of the gossip rags, but he didn’t see anything specifically about Kacchan or Shindou.

He would later realize that he should have been suspicious of the lack of information on Shindou in particular. Yo Shindou was a well-known socialite and his picture was frequently taken at benefits and clubs alike. There should have been at least one picture of him during the time period, and the fact that there wasn’t should have been a red flag… But researching during his free time was difficult. He couldn’t outright ask anyone for information, because they would be immediately suspicious. Also, it would get back to Shouto. Everything he did had to be in secret, or something he could do out in the open and pass as something else. It wasn’t the most efficient way to do things, but it would have to do.

The first confirmation he got that Kacchan and Shindou were official was a sign too late.

Shouto flopped onto the bed one morning while Izuku was still waking up, pulling the magazine out of his hands and tossing it to the side.

“Why do you read these? They’re all garbage, you know,” he said nonchalantly, crawling up to rest his head in Izuku’s lap.

“Just curious, I guess,” Izuku replied. “It’s my way of keeping an eye on my ‘public image.’”

That was a bold-faced lie. It had become part of his morning ritual, looking for any information he could get on Kacchan or Shindou. The one he’d been in the middle of reading had no information of use, per usual, but he did find an interesting speculation piece on who the hero Uravity might be dating. Their guess was way off, but the work they’d done to connect Ochako to Iida was interesting. Then again, very few people would have guessed that Ochako was into women, so that probably worked in her favor.

“We have PR specialists to handle that for us,” Shouto pointed out, waving his hand dismissively. “More importantly, I was thinking about our anniversary.”

“Our…anniversary?”

“Yes. Our anniversary. Our one-year anniversary. Tell me you haven’t forgotten about it.”

“No!” Izuku yelped, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his calendar. To his relief, the application he used had plugged in the date based on the type of entry he’d made for the wedding. “See?” He turned the screen to show Shouto.

“Yes, I know what date it is. I was talking about what we were going to do for it.” Shouto’s eyes narrowed, making him appear even less pleased than he was before.

“What would you like to do? We could go to dinner somewhere nice? Maybe take a weekend trip to Okinawa?”

Shouto sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “I was really hoping you’d had something in mind already, given everything that happened last year. Guess that was too much to ask for.”

“N-no, I’ve totally been thinking about it,” Izuku lied, grabbing Shouto’s hand and pressing a kiss to the silver band on his ring finger. “I just didn’t want to make any plans without checking first. I was actually thinking, if we couldn’t get the time off of work we should…throw a party!”

“A party?” Shouto asked curiously.

“Yeah, like a-a dinner!” Izuku continued, trying to cover his tracks. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about their anniversary, he’d just forgotten. Between work, making time for Shouto, spending time with friends, and trying to unravel the mystery of why Yo Shindou had launched an attack on his personal life, he hadn’t had the bandwidth to consider their upcoming anniversary. The app would have given him a notification, but planning a week out probably wasn’t the best approach, now that he was thinking about it…

“Like, in a restaurant, or…?”

“We could do it here. Cater something in. Invite our friends? It doesn’t have to be the size of our wedding or anything. Don’t think we could even fit that many people in here. But we could invite your family, and my mom, and a bunch of our friends.” He smiled softly, brushing hair from Shouto’s forehead. “It’ll be the celebration we should’ve had before. Like a re-do.”

Shouto chewed on his lower lip, brow furrowing in contemplation. “Yeah, I think that would be nice. Do we want to send actual invitations?”

Izuku hummed thoughtfully. “I would like to, but since everyone usually has a busy schedule, we should probably just text. I can totally take care of most of it, if you just want to handle contacting your family. Would probably be a little weird coming from me.”

“What are you talking about?” Shouto asked, a small smile blooming on his face as he pulled his own phone from his pocket. “My family loves you—even Natsuo, and he doesn’t usually like anyone.”

“If you say so,” Izuku chuckled, opening his contacts list and adding everyone to a mass message. His finger hovered over Katsuki’s name hesitantly. “Um…Sho?”

Shouto sighed, as if predicting the question he was about to be asked. “Yes, Izuku?”

“Do you…do you think it would be okay to invite Kacchan? It’s been a while since we’ve seen him. I mean, I don’t even know if he’d come… He hasn’t really been answering my texts much, but that’s always kind of been the case. I just think it would be rude to invite everyone from the class, but exclude him.”

“You sure that’s all this is?”

“Shouto…”

“I’m serious,” Shouto said firmly. “We had this talk last time, and look what happened.”

Izuku frowned. Technically, Shouto wasn’t wrong. It was one of the reasons they’d fought at the reception. Still, he would feel bad if Kacchan got excluded.

Shouto’s groan pulled his attention from his phone screen. “Fine. Invite him. Just know that this is the last time, Izuku. If he starts another fight, I’m done. Are you sure you want to risk that?”

Of course he didn’t. It had taken months just to get back to where they were now. Still, Kacchan was Kacchan, and it had been almost a year… Plus, he wasn’t unconvinced that the whole thing was Shindou’s doing, and he wouldn’t be a factor this time around. Izuku tapped on Kacchan’s name and began to draft the text.

“Okay…” Shouto said quietly, rolling off the bed and sulking out of the room.

Izuku watched him go, clutching his phone tightly. It would be okay. Everything would go well, everyone would have a good time, and then Shouto would hopefully finally be convinced that they were all ready to move on.

What he hadn’t accounted for was just how well Kacchan had moved on.

Izuku heard his name before he saw his face, Shouto answering the door with a chilly greeting that immediately caught his attention. He started to feel like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to invite his childhood friend, after all. Then he saw the person beside Kacchan and he knew it had been a terrible idea.

“Midoriya, hey!” Shindou greeted cheerily. “Er, it’s Todoroki now, right? Wow, that’s gonna be confusing.” He flashed a seemingly-apologetic smile. “Anyway, thanks for the invite. Your house is really nice!” The tall brunette walked up to him, handing him a small cardboard box with a ribbon on it. “Katsuki mentioned you liked matcha, so I picked up these sweet rolls from a bakery I like to go to on occasion.”

“H-Hi, Shindou,” Izuku responded awkwardly, glancing past him to look at Kacchan, who was still standing in the doorway, eyeing Shouto warily. “Hi, Kacchan.”

“Deku,” Katsuki grumbled, glance darting from Shouto to Izuku.

“Get out of the doorway, babe, you’re blocking the entrance.” Shindou reached out and grabbed Katsuki’s hand, pulling him farther into the foyer. “Sorry, he’s been in a mood all day. Between you and me, I think he’s been pulling too many odd shifts.”

“Told you, it’s just until the brat gets older. Then Pinky can take her stupid shift back and I won’t have to partner with that fucking idiot they have interning with me. Seriously, the guy can’t even be called a sidekick, he’s such a moron.”

Shindou smiled, nudging Katsuki with his elbow. “Careful now, that ‘brat’ was named after you.”

“Yeah, well, beats the hell out of whatever Raccoon Eyes was planning on calling him. Kazuki? Kazuichi?” Katsuki scratched the back of his head as he fumbled through names.

“Kazuo,” Shindou corrected, sighing. “I won’t tell her you said that, but you’ll owe me one.”

Katsuki crossed his arms, rolling his eyes when Shindou slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yeah, when don’t I fucking ‘owe you one?’”

The box crinkled loudly as Izuku squeezed it, his grip tightening reflexively. Three sets of eyes stared at him in surprise.

“Oh, uh…oops…” He chuckled and handed the box to Shouto, who brushed past him to go into the kitchen.

“Still such a klutz, Deku,” Katsuki said, shaking his head gently. “One of these days you’re going to learn you need to watch those meat hooks you call hands–ow!”

“That’s what you get for calling Deku’s hands ‘meat hooks,’” Ochako said, popping up behind him with Asui in tow. “Hi Deku! Sorry we’re a bit late. Tsu was late getting off her shift, and then…uh…”

Izuku held his hand up to cut her off. “No problem! No problem at all! Uh, Kacchan and Shindou just got here, so it’s not like you were terribly late or anything?”

“Oh, well okay then!” Ochako chirped. “Bakugou is usually early to everything, so now I don’t feel so bad!”

Warmth spread throughout Izuku’s chest, watching Kacchan and Ochako bicker back and forth. This felt normal. This was how it was supposed to be. He turned and started down the hall towards their living area. “Let’s go into the—”

“Oh my god, Bakugou, is that an engagement ring?!” Ochako shrieked, causing Izuku to freeze in place.

There was no way. It couldn’t be. She had to have been mistaken. Okay, it was probably pretty hard to be mistaken about a ring, but maybe he was just wearing it as an accessory. It wasn’t really typical for Kacchan to wear anything on his hands other than gloves due to the way his quirk tended to ruin most anything that stayed on his hands for too long, but it wasn’t out of the question…

“Y-yeah, what of it?”

A toxic cocktail of shock and dread flushed through Izuku’s system, causing him to break out in a cold sweat. The exchange of words continued behind him, but he couldn’t focus on any of it, too overwhelmed by the sudden need to run. But to where? This was his house. His husband, who was already on the verge of walking away if even the smallest thing went wrong tonight, was in the kitchen, likely coordinating with the catering staff they hired for their anniversary dinner.

God, what was wrong with him? When had things gotten so out of control?

“Izuku.” Shouto’s voice caught his attention, his head snapping up reflexively. His husband’s eyes went wide in surprise as they searched his face. Izuku reflexively reached up to his face, as if feeling for some kind of mark or speck of something.

Wet. His fingertips made contact with his skin, the familiar texture giving him pause. He dragged against the damp tracks, spreading them to the drier parts of his cheeks.

“Go upstairs,” Shouto muttered, his eyes affixed to the scene still unfolding behind Izuku. The same cold countenance that had settled in his features the year prior returned.

Panic flooded Izuku’s mind. No, he couldn’t have failed already. He just needed to talk to Shouto, to explain that he was overwhelmed. It didn’t mean anything. He was tired, and seeing all of his friends together, acting like they used to…it was a lot.

“Sho—”

“Up. Stairs.”

Nodding, Izuku walked past him, ascending the stairs at the end of the hallway. Behind him, he could hear the conversation shift.

“Oh hey, Shouto! Where’s Deku going?” Ochako asked.

“He got a call from the office. He’s going upstairs for a moment to handle it. He’ll be back as soon as he gets it sorted out,” Shouto lied.

“Can’t be helped,” Shindou said, his saccharine tone giving Izuku a stomachache as he rounded the corner and went down the hall to his and Shouto’s bedroom.

Shutting the door behind him, he launched himself onto the bed and buried his face in the pillows. No matter how many times he tried to swallow it down, he couldn’t get the lump in his throat to budge. It only seemed to grow in size until the only choice he had was to allow the dam to break. Tears rushed forth freely, soaking the silk pillow he clutched to his face. His body racked with stifled sobs, releasing all of the pain and frustration he’d either been holding in or putting off. By the time Shouto entered the room, his tears had dried away and his sniffles had subsided, a red ring around his eyes and some residual puffiness the only signs that he’d been crying at all.

The other man’s back was rigid as he slipped into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him and resting against it. Izuku slowly rose to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Mind explaining?” Shouto asked quietly. Raucous laughter erupted from downstairs, striking an unsettling contrast to his serious demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said, bowing his head.

“So you keep saying.”

“Please, Shouto, don’t…don’t be like that,” Izuku pleaded, covering his face with his hands. He was so tired. Nothing had been the same since the wedding, and even though it had been getting better slowly, it was clear to him now that the progress was simply a layer of thin ice that had formed over the deep lake of problems they’d been pretending didn’t exist.

Shouto pursed his lips, his arms crossing defensively. “And how should I be acting? I left for two minutes, only to come back to Ochako gushing over Bakugou and you looking like someone shot you.”

“I’m tired, okay?” Izuku snapped, immediately covering his mouth with his hand as Shouto’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Getting angry wouldn’t help matters, and he didn’t want to start a screaming match with his husband while all of their friends were here and within earshot.

“You know, so am I.” Shouto’s voice was hard, his jaw tensing as he pushed off the door. “I’m tired of pretending that this–” he gestured between the two of them, “–means anything. You think I haven’t noticed? The compulsive news searching, the way you ask our friends about him, the fact that you text him every few days, even though he’s never going to respond?”

The simmering, barely-restrained irritation beneath Izuku’s skin started to heat to a boil. “You never trusted me.”

“And why should I have?!” Shouto hollered, slamming his fist on the nearby dresser.

Izuku held his hands up to silence his spouse, noting the way the loud noises from below had noticeably lessened.

“No, Izuku, you do not get to shush me,” Shouto spat. “You don’t get to decide—”

“Oh, so you want everyone to know we’re fighting?” Izuku cut him off, jumping to his feet. “You don’t think that’s a little rude?”

“You don’t get to talk to me about what’s rude! Don’t you dare! Not after what you did last year!”

“Are. You. Ever. Going to stop punishing me for that? I already said I was sorry!”

Shouto rushed forward, his face twisted in rage. The sound of a harsh slap echoed through the room. Izuku held a shaking hand up to his stinging cheek. It wasn’t the first time he’d be struck, and certainly not the first time he’d been struck by Shouto. The pain itself wasn’t even that severe, but it was the first time Shouto had ever struck him in anger. Not from combat training. Not from competition. Anger.

“Apologies don’t really count when you keep doing the thing you’re apologizing for.” Visible puffs of air escaped past Shouto’s trembling lips, the slightest bit of frost collecting on his right cheek. A tear leaked out of the corner of his left eye and rolled down his cheek.

Viridian eyes dropped to the floor, clouding over with fresh tears of shame. “I’m sorry,” Izuku whispered. The excuses he’d spent the time alone trying to piece together died in his throat. It’s not like it made much of a difference now, anyway.

“It’s over,” Shouto said, his voice breaking.

Izuku’s heart began to ram violently against his ribs. What did he mean? The fight? Their marriage? Was he about to lose everything because he couldn’t let go of something he didn’t even have anymore?

“Shouto, please…”

“This is over, Izuku. No more. I can’t keep coming back here. You might not be seeing someone else, but it doesn’t feel like you’re here, either. It’s basically the same thing.” He fell back against the door, sliding down the surface and curling up on himself. “Just tell me…was any of it real?”

Walking over to the door, Izuku slid down next to Shouto and slung his arm around his shoulders, combing his fingers through his soon-to-be-ex’s bi-colored hair. He was going to miss this. Not necessarily them being together, but the bond that they’d shared since their days in UA. None of that would ever be the same again.

“Yes,” he lied.

***

The weather was good—that was a good sign, right? Stable weather was important when getting married outside. At first, he thought that Katsuki was joking when he said they were having the wedding outdoors, but like pretty much everything that came from the explosive hero’s mouth, he was dead serious.

Yo never considered himself a “garden wedding” kinda guy. Hell, he didn’t even consider himself a wedding kinda guy in the first place. He was happy to make an exception for Katsuki, though. That gorgeous man had him so wrapped around his rough, weaponized fingers, it was almost embarrassing. Lucky for Yo, he never had much shame to begin with.

Everyone else could have their opinions on the matter—and they did have their opinions. Some said he was using Katsuki for his rank, as a means to climb the ladder. Some said he was simply using the man for sex, and then he’d get bored and leave. None of them were exactly wrong, at one point in time. When he first agreed to go on a blind date, he knew exactly what he was getting into. Eijirou Kirishima was a nice man, but he wasn’t exactly the smartest one. When he asked whether Yo was seeing anyone, Yo knew immediately who he was asking for. Anyone who was anyone knew that Bakugou and Kirishima were tight. They were best friends and hero partners; Kirishima even left a fairly lucrative contract at another agency in favor of working with his long-time friend.

It was flattering, really, the fact that Kirishima thought they might be compatible. Yo could see where one would get that impression; he was notoriously unflappable, and Katsuki Bakugou was…well, Katsuki Bakugou. He wasn’t initially sure whether it was the best idea. After all, Japan’s number two hero had just gone through a very high-profile, not-so-public breakup with Japan’s number one hero not too long beforehand, and Yo wasn’t sure what that meant he was walking into. No one really got to see what Katsuki was like in a relationship, let alone what he looked like after one that didn’t exactly end in his favor.

Still, Yo was nothing, if not tenacious. Worse case scenario, he might’ve walked out with a broken jaw or a mild burn. The most likely scenario was that he’d end up eating dinner alone. He had to work extra hard to mask his surprise when his irritable date showed up, dressed for the occasion and everything. It wouldn’t be the first shock of the night, but Yo had always been very quick on his feet, so he was ready for just about anything that was thrown his way.

At least, he thought he was. See, the original plan was to get to know the guy, see what made him tick, maybe get a night of fun out of the deal. What he hadn’t anticipated was how much he’d enjoy Katsuki’s company. Banter with him was fun—anything he threw at Katsuki was volleyed right back at him with seemingly little effort. He’d always assumed the hero most famous for his abrasive attitude was a thick-headed brute who’d been born lucky with a good quirk. God, was Yo wrong, and happily so.

He found that the blonde was prickly, but not impossible. Whether they were making love or simply professing it, all he needed was a little gentle coaxing. Did he lose his patience on occasion? Absolutely. They both did. Katsuki pushed buttons Yo didn’t even know he had, and he did so with all the sensitivity of a three-year-old petting a cat for the first time. Beneath that nitroglycerin-coated, standoffish exterior beat the heart of a truly good man, however, and Yo slowly found himself wanting to know more about him.

Yes, okay, the sex was also mind-blowingly good, but that was to be expected, considering the fact that the man was practically chiseled from marble and refused to not be the best at literally everything. Yo would be remiss if he didn’t admit that every time their bodies met, he felt a little less certain that heaven was so much a place as a person. Of course, their chemistry was undeniable, but in bed, the couldn’t be a better fit. Katsuki secretly loved being taken care of, and Yo… Well… There was a certain thrill in submitting someone who could easily kill you.

That being said, he certainly didn’t see himself falling in love with the hero whose professional name sounded like something a rage-fueled ten-year-old thought up during a tantrum. He’d heard love was illogical, but he didn’t know it personally until he heard the bedroom door close that first night and felt disappointed. He almost considered calling it a wash until he heard through the grape vine that a certain someone was biting the heads off a few less interns in the couple days after their date. Yo wasn’t a superstitious person, but he decided to take that as a sign that he should stop waiting for a phone call and do it his damn self. One call wouldn’t kill him, he figured.

One call turned into two, and then three—the next thing he knew, he was calling on his way home from patrol on a regular basis, just to hear the other man’s voice on his hilarious PR-nightmare-of-a-voicemail. Every few calls, he’d get lucky and Katsuki would actually answer the phone. If the first date was the thing that put Yo in the coffin, the phone calls were the nails that secured the lid. The conversations were brief, but even in ten-minute-increments, he slowly got to know the person who’d been plaguing his thoughts during his waking hours. He learned that Katsuki had a wicked sense of humor and a technical mind, that he liked spicy food and could play the drums. Yo found that he liked the short laughs that the man he once thought to be humorless often made when something was surprisingly amusing. It made him want to try harder to be funny, just to hear the low, huffed chuckle.

It became more obvious to Yo that he needed to do something more aggressive in his pursuit of Katsuki when the high-ranking hero was suspiciously absent from the Hero Billboard Chart JP ceremony and it damn near ruined his whole night. After all of the work he’d put into his public image, it was starting to pay off. By his estimates, Yo was just one more year from breaking the top ten. He would have been elated under any other circumstances, but the only thing he could think about was why Katsuki wasn’t there. The “official” excuse given was that he was working so his peers could attend, but Yo wasn’t an idiot. Yo knew. There was only one very big, very green reason the ego-driven hero would skip out on the one night he got the recognition he worked all year for.

It would have been a gross understatement to say that there was a big roadblock in their relationship in the shape of Izuku Midoriya, who was already solidly on Yo’s personal shit list. He’d had everything that Yo wanted, and seemingly with only a fraction of the effort. It wasn’t hard to understand, from a marketing perspective; Midoriya was bright-faced and cheery, cute and endearing. His quirk was so like All Might’s it was downright suspicious, and the man had been his mentor. The top spot was practically guaranteed.

The disdain he felt towards the hero was only amplified by the fact that Katsuki still apparently held a torch for the little baby-faced tyrant. The number-one hero spot? Yo could overlook that for the time being. It wasn’t like the man was a bad hero or anything. The number-one spot in the eyes of Katsuki Bakugou? That was a completely different matter, and Yo was ready to do anything in his power to usurp that spot from the world’s most undeserving ex.

In that regard, he’d done pretty well for himself—not that he’d had to do much. Midoriya and Todoroki did a lot of the heavy lifting for him. By the time the wedding rolled around, Katsuki was so cagey, the slightest thing set him off. All Yo had to do was poke in just the right places to get the explosive hero riled up until he was almost tight enough to snap. Up until the reception, he’d done a damn good job of giving Katsuki just enough space, but not so much that he was outside of Yo’s reach. Then those toasts came up, and Katsuki looked like someone had stabbed him in the heart.

Well, that was too much for Yo. It was either take a jog or go to jail for assault, and the longer he sat there, the more attractive the second option seemed. He had to trust that the groundwork he’d laid would be enough. If you’d told a younger Yo Shindou that he was going to end up spilling his guts while seated inside another man inside the bathroom of a nice hotel during a high-profile wedding reception, he would have laughed you out of the country.

It’d all worked out in the end, though. Embarrassing confession aside, he wouldn’t change a thing. Everything after that seemed like a whirlwind. Within months, he’d convinced Katsuki to move into his apartment. By the time they’d reached a year together—if you counted them hooking up in the bathroom the “beginning” of their relationship, which Yo certainly did not—he’d proposed. As it turned out, heir first compromise as an engaged couple ended up being over when they would go official with the information.

“I don’t want to make a big fucking deal out of it,” Katsuki said pointedly, eyes still affixed to the ring on his hand. “No big dinner or any shit like that.”

Yo sighed, resting his head on his new fiancé’s muscular thigh. “Babe, we’re only doing this once. Don’t you want to have the full experience?”

Katsuki eyed him dubiously. “You’re not going to insist on some big-ass wedding with a million people or anything, are you? Because if so, I’m taking the ring off and you can find some other poor fucker to torture.”

“But I want to torture you, baby.” Yo rolled over on his stomach, propping his chin up with one hand and sliding the other up the leg of Katsuki’s black cotton boxer briefs. He bit down on his lip suggestively.

“Knock that shit off.” Katsuki swatted at the intruding hand, the seed of a smile planting itself in his mouth. “You’re not—I said fuck off—gonna use your dick to change my mind.”

“Really?” Yo drawled, hooking his fingers around his lover’s newly forming erection and giving it a few lazy strokes. “Pretty sure your body’s saying differently. I think that makes the vote 2-1.”

Katsuki grabbed Yo’s wrist through the fabric of his underwear, holding it firmly. “And I’m, nngh, pretty sure that traitorous little shit doesn’t get a vote.”

Sighing, Yo withdrew his hand, flopping over onto his back. “Fine. How about a compromise?”

“…Depends. What kind of compromise?”

“We won’t throw a party. We’ll save ourselves the trouble and just tell everyone when we see them tonight.”

The muscles in Katsuki’s jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth together. “Yo, I’m not going to that party. I told you I’m done with that shit. I don’t give a damn what the nerd and his bastard husband do. I don’t want any part of it.”

“Katsuki.” Yo sat up, positioning himself so he was facing his partner. He gingerly took Katsuki’s hand, interlinking their fingers and holding their conjoined hands so the ring was eye-level. The red gems embedded in the gold band sparkled in the morning light that streamed through the window blinds. “This means something to me. I’m happier than you’ll ever know that you…”

He hesitated. The topics of “choosing” someone and being “chosen” were still raw for the emotionally-challenged blonde. Yo didn’t dare say it, but he suspected that Katsuki had developed some abandonment issues, and he was doing what he could to combat them…but reaffirming that he wasn’t going anywhere on a regular basis only did so much. The damage done to Katsuki’s trust extended beyond that of his relationship with Midoriya. If he’d ever trusted anyone before, he didn’t anymore.

That’s why they had to do this. He needed to chase away the ghosts that haunted the man he loved, once and for all.

“…said yes,” he finished quietly, carefully gauging the other’s reaction. So far, so good. “If I didn’t think you’d hate me for it, I would call my contacts in the press and leak the information right now.” He lowered their hands and reached up with his free hand to cup the side of Katsuki’s face, his thumb grazing the sharp line of his cheekbone. “Can you really blame me for wanting to tell everyone that you’re mine?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, his thick eyelashes casting faint shadows on blush-dusted cheeks as he looked down in embarrassment. “We’re already dating, idiot. Everyone knows that.”

“This is different. You know that, right?”

Drawing a deep breath, Katsuki’s tanned chest expanded, pausing for a beat while he held it in before he exhaled through his nose. “Kay. Fine. You win, shit…” Garnet irises bore into him as Katsuki’s glance flicked up to his face. “But no big speeches or any stupid shit like that. We go, we tell the people who matter, and that’s it. Everyone else will figure it out. Pinky never shuts the fuck up, so it won’t take long to spread.”

Yo laughed, rolling his eyes. As badly as he spoke about them, he knew Katsuki really loved his friends.

“Whatever you say, babe.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Katsuki’s softly. Large, calloused hands framed his face as Katsuki pulled him in, his tongue darting between their lips, seeking entrance. Being positioned to straddle the younger man’s lap in a way that pressed their burgeoning erections together, Yo moaned, allowing Katsuki’s tongue to explore the confines of his mouth.

Breaking away for air, Yo rested his forehead against his lover’s. “I just took a shower.”

“Tch, you can take another. You practically live in the damn bathroom.” Katsuki rolled his hips, creating delicious friction between their clothed members.

“Mmm…but…we should uh—shit right there, that’s so good.” Yo’s head lulled back, giving Katsuki access to his exposed throat. He let out another low moan as Katsuki nipped along the sensitive skin. “N-no, shouldn’t we, um, call your parents or something?”

Katsuki pulled back, glaring at him in incredulity. “I’m five seconds away from taking your pants off, and you want to bring up my fucking parents?”

Yo groaned, resting his head against Katsuki’s shoulder. “I know, I’m the worst. I do have to get ready for media this morning. Trust me, there is nothing I’d rather do than bend you over and make you announce our engagement to the entire building, but work is work.”

“Do you have to go?” Katsuki asked quietly, idly running his fingers through Yo’s thick waves. “You give the same fake-ass smile every time you do one of these interviews. You’d think they’d be sick of it by now.”

“Nope.” Yo chuckled, sitting up and rolling off the bed. “Besides, I get as many questions about you as I do about my own work, which is really irritating, by the way. So don’t complain. The more of this I do, the less you have to.”

“Shit, why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Katsuki flashed him a toothy grin.

Shaking his head, Yo headed into the closet and began selecting his outfit for the day. Katsuki appeared behind him, circling Yo’s waist with his arms and resting his chin on the taller man’s shoulder.

“Can I help you, Mr. Bakugou?”

“Blegh, don’t say that. Makes me think you’re talking to my dad.” Katsuki took a light, retaliatory bite into Yo’s shoulder. “Listen, um…what’s your ring size? I’ll go pick something out for you and have it ready in time for tonight.”

Yo turned in Katsuki’s arms, the unfamiliar sensation of heat flooding his cheeks. The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening to spread into an embarrassingly-wide smile. “Yeah?”

“Did I stutter?” Katsuki asked, grabbing his hand and comparing their finger sizes. “I’m a 10, but I think yours might be bigger…”

“Obviously. Wouldn’t be able to keep you otherwise,” Yo hummed suggestively, earning him a nudge in the ribs.

“That’s not what I mean, pervert.”

“Well, right on both accounts, anyway.”

“You fucking wish,” Katsuki said, chuckling.

“Don’t I, though?” Yo winced as the shorter male stepped on his toe in retaliation. “Fine, I’ll quit. I’m an 11. Try to get something sturdy? I want to be able to wear it even when I’m in the field.”

“Says the idiot who got gold for someone with an explosive quirk.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to wear it all of the time!”

Katsuki frowned. “You assume too fucking much. Just for that, I’mma get what I wanna get you, and then we’ll just have to get substitutions for work.”

Yo smiled, giving his fiancé a brief peck on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“So I keep telling everyone, yeah.”

Yo smiled at the fond memory, glancing down at the platinum band that encircled his right ring finger. The metallic surface gleamed in the sunlight, a reminder that this day wasn’t for nothing, even if he was dreading the potential fallout.

Things had been…tense, to put it mildly, between Katsuki and his ex since he and Katsuki had hooked up at Midoriya’s and Todoroki’s wedding. Yo had been fairly certain that he heard Midoriya enter the bathroom in the middle of things. His assumptions were confirmed when they returned to the reception and he found himself the target of a very pointed glare from the usually cherub-faced top hero.

Yo probably didn’t make matters better when he winked and blew the man a kiss behind Katsuki’s back, but he really couldn’t find it in him to even pretend to care—and that was saying something. Sure, he’d play nice in front of the public and be on his best behavior around Katsuki and his friends, but if he ever got the other hero alone…

Well, it wouldn’t be pretty.

The threat of Midoriya had amplified in recent months, with the abrupt ending of his marriage to Todoroki, after only a year. In the dark corners of social gatherings, or in the hallways at work, people asked Yo whether he knew what the situation was, if he could see it coming. Each time, he always politely declined to comment, stating he didn’t think it an appropriate topic given the recency of the divorce. He wanted to distance himself as much as possible from the situation—and more importantly, he wanted to keep Katsuki away from it.

Yo didn’t think Midoriya posed any real danger; Katsuki had made it clear he had no interest in revisiting that relationship, that the book was closed on that chapter of his life. Yo hadn’t even had to ask. Katsuki read him like black ink on white paper when they heard the announcement about the dissolution of the high-profile marriage. He was done with Izuku Midoriya, and that was that. Their interactions would be limited to work and the occasional gathering of their classmates, which Yo would always have the option of being present for. Midoriya wasn’t a risk to their relationship.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Midoriya, like Yo, was also tenacious. It was one of the few traits they shared that wasn’t surface-level. Yo anticipated a moment where he’d have to lay out the law and set the top hero straight. Draw a line in the sand. Stake out his territory.

It wasn’t worth thinking about until such a time came. The expression he made when thinking about the things he’d like to say to Midoriya probably wasn’t attractive, and there were people with cameras everywhere. Every time he turned around, someone was asking him to hold still, or he would see a flash go off in his peripheral. His only saving grace was that his fiancé was probably somewhere, making worse faces than he was. He was currently surrounded by his friends, as well as a couple of Katsuki’s, who had wandered down the hall from the room where the explosive hero was getting ready.

He was never so grateful for the restraint he’d built up over the years, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay in his assigned suite. Even the comfortable breeze blowing in from the open balcony doors wasn’t sufficient to soothe his nerves.

“You doing okay, dude?” Jirou asked, leaning into his peripheral. “Lookin’ pretty sharp, but your face screams ‘yikes.’”

He turned to look at the woman, who was dressed in a stylish, black-and-white houndstooth suit jacket and black fitted dress pants. Her cropped hair was pinned back on one side. Of all of Katsuki’s friends, she was probably his favorite—very no-nonsense, right to the point.

“You’re looking good yourself…except for the face, obviously.” Yo flashed a smile and a wink, hoping it would be sufficient to keep her from prying any further.

Normally, it would have been enough, but apparently weddings led people to be unusually inquisitive, and Jirou was no exception.

“Nerves?”

“Yes,” Yo admitted, adjusting his onyx cuff-links for the fifth time that hour. He supposed he could give her a little honesty, if it helped him get some information in return. “How’s Katsuki faring?”

“About what you’d expect.” Jirou let out a quiet chuckle. “He’s threatened to kill Kirishima at least three times already. It’s probably safe to say he’s nervous. Bakugou always gets more violent when he’s nervous.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.”

The door to the suite opened and Kirishima’s head poked in, his expression somewhere between tired and overwhelmed.

“Kyouka, time for you to tag in. I can’t do anything with him.” The sturdy hero slid into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. “He keeps putting his tie on, then getting mad at how it looks and taking it off again. I thought he finally was happy with it, but then he started talking about getting a different tie because the color looked wrong. I need someone he might actually trust to tell him that yes, a black tie does go with a black suit.” He clasped his hands together, making him look like a bizarrely-musclebound Buddha statue. “Please?”

Jirou rolled her eyes. “Fine. You are all such babies, I swear. I’ll put the damn tie on, but if he touches it again, I’ll strangle him with it.”

Kirishima laughed appreciatively. “I’ll hold him for you.” He turned to Yo, looking him up and down. “Huh, maybe he should have gone with a white tie, too. It does look a little cleaner.”

“Tell you what,” Yo said, untying his tie and handing it to Jirou, “give this to him and see if he likes it better. Bring me the one he doesn’t want.”

“You got it, boss.” She hooked her arm around Kirishima’s elbow and dragged him toward the door. “Come on, big man. Let’s go get Bakugou tied up so he can stop telling Denki he’s gonna throw him in a bathtub with a toaster.”

“What?” Yo asked, shocked.

Jirou paused by the door, hand on the knob. “I know! It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard him say. It’s like he completely forgot what Kaminari’s quirk is. It’d be more effective to club him with a rock outside.” She shook her head and opened the door, exiting into the hallway.

“That…wasn’t really…” Yo glanced over at his friend and old classmate Itejiro, quirking a curious eyebrow. Itejiro simply shrugged, appearing equally confused.

Deciding to wait until someone returned with the tie he was supposed to be wearing, Yo eased into a nearby armchair. After a few minutes, he considered using the missing tie as an excuse to go down the hall. He was about to act on his plan, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Warmth spread throughout his chest as he read the caller details on the screen.

“You do know this is bad luck, right?”

“Shut up,” Katsuki huffed, exhaling out of his nose. He sounded tired and stressed, which was in line with what Jirou and Kirishima had said. “I thought you were gonna wear the white one.”

Yo’s lips quivered with a restrained laugh. “Baby, it’s not that important. I’ll wear whichever tie you don’t want. Do you like the white one better?”

There was a pause on the line before Katsuki very quietly responded, “Yeah…”

“Then you should wear the white one. Let Kyouka help you with it and send Eijirou back with mine so we can get moving. I want to see you again.”

Katsuki snorted. “I saw you last night, idiot. We’ve gone on missions that lasted weeks without seeing each other. This is nothing.”

The corner of Yo’s mouth ticked upward in amusement. “So you haven’t been terrorizing all of your friends because you’re a big grump who didn’t get enough sleep last night?”

A rustling sound emitted from the phone as the speaker was covered. Katsuki’s muffled voice was still audible. “Kirishima, you’re a real bitch, you know that?”

Kirishima’s protests could be heard in the background. “What, what did I do?”

“Gone for all of five minutes and still had time to talk shit on me. Here, take this damn tie and get out of here before I kick your ass into space.”

Yo relaxed further into the chair, letting his head roll back onto the plush chair backing. He had a feeling he’d have a few minutes to fix his hair after the call, anyway. “Stop bullying your friends, Kat. It’s not their fault you slept poorly.”

“No, that’s your fucking fault, forcing us to do this stupid-ass tradition for no damn reason,” Katsuki grumbled. “Didn’t take you for a superstitious moron.”

“I’m not,” Yo said plainly, without any edge in his tone. The sunlight streaming in from the window was soothing, made even better by the sound of his lover’s voice—however agitated he might be for the moment. “It’s better this way. You’ll see. You’ll be so happy to see me later, I bet you’ll even smile.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing,” Katsuki mumbled, the blush evident in his voice.

“Mmm…I can practically hear you smiling now.”

“Don’t be dumb. You can’t hear something like that.”

“I can,” Yo insisted. “Your vowels sound different and your pitch changes a little. You don’t have the same rough edges to your voice and you swear a lot less.”

“I’m hanging up now,” Katsuki said flatly.

“You also warn me before you—” There was a click on the end of the line that he could practically hear in the room. Grinning, Yo shrugged and put the device back in his pocket. “Well, he’s at least in a better mood. Pity that he didn’t get much sleep, though. It’s not like I’m letting him sleep later…”

“Bro, all due respect, but I really didn’t need to hear that,” Kirishima said, his bright red hair poking through the now-open doorway—the likely explanation for the other clicking sound. “Love the guy, but he’s like my brother. Some stuff, you just don’t need to hear.” He chuckled as he crossed the room, black tie in hand.

Yo got to his feet, reaching to take the silk accessory from the other man. “Sorry. I guess I’ve gotten used to talking out loud. When you live with someone who only speaks on rare occasions in variants of shouting, it helps to have some non-screaming noise in-between.”

“Don’t I know it. Bakugou and I were roommates for a year after we graduated from UA. He’d be dead silent for hours, and then he’d see something on TV that made him mad. It was like someone set off a car alarm.”

“That sounds like Katsuki, all right.” Yo stepped in front of the mirror and slung the tie around his neck, adjusting the length until he was satisfied. As he tied his knot of choice, he noticed the other man hadn’t moved to return to the other room, instead staring at his back. His lower lip was caught in his sharp teeth, gnawing away as if uncertain about something.

“Something on your mind, Eijirou?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s…it can wait.”

Yo shook his head, tightening the knot and turning his collar down. “No, we can do it now.” He looked to the other occupants of the room. “Could you guys give us a sec?”

Murmurs of consent echoed between his friends, who stood and started to head for the door. Itejiro raised an eyebrow, as if to say “you good?”

Flashing a smile, Yo gave a subtle nod. “If anyone asks, I’m running away with the handsome best man. Katsuki can have Mina—he’ll love that.” He turned back to Kirishima, waiting until he heard the click of the door latch to continue. “So, what’s up? You look like you’ve got something you want to say.”

“I uh, heh…” the bulky hero scratched the back of his head and looked at his feet, more resembling an overgrown toddler than a man who could stop a speeding bus with his body. “I know it probably seems a little late to be saying this, but uh…you do know that if you hurt him and I find out about it, I’ll have to kick your ass, right?”

“Well, that’s a conversation I didn’t think I’d be having today,” Yo mused, trying not to laugh at the idea of the softest man he’d ever met ripping his leg off and beating him to death with it. “But I appreciate where you’re coming from, all the same. I promise I will do my very best to take care of him, so you’ll only have one child to worry about.”

Kirishima snickered. “Thanks. It’s not that I thought you would or anything, I just…haven’t been the best at seeing things in the past, and I want to make it clear that if anything like that happens again, all bets are off.”

Yo walked up to the redhead, clapping a broad hand on his shoulder. “You never have to worry about anything like that from me. And just so you know, what happened with those two wasn’t your fault. Katsuki was putting on a good face, and that’s not usually his area of expertise, so you couldn’t have known.”

“I know, I know, but…” Kirishima’s brow furrowed, his sharp wine-colored eyes darting to the corner of the room. “I’m his best friend. I’m supposed to be the one who can tell if something’s off, right? He changed agencies and asked me to go with him, to be his partner. I never asked why, just assumed it was a result of their break-up or whatever.”

“He’s an independent person, Eijirou. It’s not that unusual for—”

“You don’t understand, Shindou. We all thought Midoriya broke up with him, and he was too proud to admit it. Midoriya started dating Todoroki right away, and that didn’t change what anyone thought. We’re not…we don’t…”

Gripping the trembling man’s shoulders, Yo activated his quirk, shaking him gently to get his attention. His voice was low and even as he spoke slowly to ensure he was heard. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters. He told you what he needed from you, and you were there for him. That’s all he’s going to remember. You and I both know Katsuki’s never given a damn what people say, only what they do. Be here now.”

“Right.” Kirishima blinked slowly, as if carefully digesting the information. His posture slowly straightened, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “No, you’re right. I was being stupid.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” Yo clapped his shoulder, turning back to the mirror to adjust his tie. “Now, if you’d be so kind, could you please go plant a foot in Katsuki’s ass so we can get this show on the road?”

***

Izuku adjusted his tie in the mirror for the dozenth time that morning. It was annoying how it’d been years, and yet, he still hadn’t learned how to tie a proper knot. He undid the tie again and tossed it onto the hotel bed. Maybe it was the thickness of the fabric… Maybe trying a different tie would help…

He disappeared into the closet, emerging with a pastel yellow tie that was a bit skinnier than the navy tie he’d been fighting with all morning. Slipping the fabric around his neck, he carefully folded it over until he’d formed the knot, then he pulled on it to slide it up, and…

Nope. Still terrible. Why did nothing look right today?

“Struggle bus, this is your stop,” Ochako joked, poking her head out the doorway of the bathroom.

Izuku glanced over at her, chuckling lightly. “Is it that obvious?”

Shaking her head, the petite brunette strode over and loosened the tie, pulling it off of Izuku and undoing his attempt. “I need you to crouch if you want me to help. You’re like a frickin’ tree.”

“Maybe you’re just short,” Izuku teased, giving into the request anyway.

Within seconds, Ochako had deftly tied a decent Windsor knot. Smoothing his white dress shirt and dusting dandruff from the tops of his gray suit jacket, she stepped back and beamed.

“Lookin’ pretty sharp, Deku!” She gave him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

Sighing, Izuku pulled her into a hug, trying not to squeeze too tightly. He didn’t know where he’d be without her. She’d been a solid support since his and Shouto’s divorce, despite having her own career and relationship to worry about.

Her tiny hands rubbed soothing circles into his back. “You going to be okay today, big guy? I know it’s not going to be an easy one. You don’t have to go, you know.”

Izuku pulled away, smiling down at his longtime friend. “I’ll be okay. Thanks. I think it’d be more awkward if I didn’t go.”

“Very true, people would probably be asking you about it for a while,” Ochako admitted, frowning. “Not that it’s any of their business. What happened with you three is private business. If anyone tries to make you upset today, I’ll fight them.”

A laugh bubbled up from Izuku’s stomach, which was shaking from nerves. “I’m not worried about that. No fights today. Looking forward to spending some time with everyone, since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Well…almost everyone,” Ochako murmured. Realizing what she’d just said, she waved her hands frantically. “That’s not what I meant! I mean, I did, but it’s not your fault! Shouto said himself that he didn’t want to come, a-and—”

“Ochako, it’s fine.” Izuku patted the shorter hero on the back and checked to make sure he had everything he needed. Wallet. Keys. Hotel key. Check, check, and check. Meager scrap of dignity? Eh. Questionable. Leaving the hotel room with his friend in tow, he tugged on the door to ensure that it was closed and they made their way to the parking garage. “I know it has nothing to do with me. I don’t think Shouto would have come today, even if we were still…y’know…”

“Yeah,” Ochako murmured in agreement. “Deku, you never really said what happened. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I was wondering…did it have anything to do with…?”

“No,” Izuku answered quickly, unlocking his car and opening the passenger door for Ochako before sliding into the driver’s seat himself. The estate where Kacchan and Shindou were getting married was about an hour from the hotel many of them had chosen to stay in. Several of their old classmates had decided to do some sightseeing before the ceremony and had left earlier that morning. Izuku wasn’t sure if she had volunteered or drawn the short straw, but for whatever reason, Ochako had elected to stay back with at the hotel with him. He was grateful for the company, but would have been fine going on his own, as well. It wasn’t like he was lonely.

Okay, that was a lie. Izuku was painfully lonely, but he was trying to make the best of things. After all, his situation was his own damn fault. If he’d been more honest with a lot of people—Katsuki and Shouto, in particular—none of this would have happened. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now, though. He just had to make the best of it. In the meantime, he still had friends like Ochako, who loved him despite his countless, severely-problematic, should-probably-see-a-professional-about-this issues.

“That’s good,” Ochako said after several moments of driving in silence. If she’d contemplated dropping the subject, her final decision was apparently to not. “I think it’s good that you’re going. You’re being supportive. And who knows, maybe after everything settles down, you’ll…you and Shouto might…or you could find…I don’t know, someone else. Someone who might fit you better than either of them.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Ochako, but uh, I’m not really interested in dating anyone.”

“Wh-what?” the woman covered her face in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant, Deku! Besides, you know I d-don’t—”

The car swerved slightly as Izuku turned to Ochako, suddenly realizing what he’d implied. “No, no, that-that’s not what I—okay, do over. I don’t want you to think if things go…if they don’t…”

“Got it, got it.” Ochako nodded feverishly. “Don’t take the absence of a fight to mean that you’re ready to date. Crystal clear now, Deku, thanks.”

Sighing in relief, Izuku turned his focus back to the road. He couldn’t even carry a simple conversation with one of his closest friends; there was no way in hell he was prepared to start seeing people. He wasn’t even sure he was prepared to physically see the man he still might—probably—be in love with.

God, this sucked.

The rest of the car ride was thankfully uneventful, with Ochako chattering about work or telling funny stories from when they were in school. Izuku was content to listen, and more-than-happy for the distraction as they neared their destination. They followed the directions Iida had sent them to a rather large hotel overlooking the beach. From an angle, they could see the area where chairs had been lined up in the garden area.

“It’s really beautiful,” Ochako hummed in awe.

“Yeah, it is,” Izuku agreed. His tone was light, and didn’t betray the sadness that had found its way into his chest. The ceremony would no doubt be beautiful, something befitting of someone as amazing as Kacchan. He was happy for them…for him…

Once they parked, it didn’t take long for their friends to find them. Everyone looked happy and healthy, and that should have made Izuku happier than it did. Even Kacchan’s friends were being nicer to him than they had been before, likely out of pity for his own situation. While everyone was busy saying their hellos, Izuku decided to take a walk to clear his head before getting situated. He strolled around the outside of building, taking in the architecture of the structure. The wrap-around balcony was the most fascinating thing, with a handful of other, smaller balconies situated above it. It probably made for great star viewing at night. He was preoccupied with counting the number of balconies in the back when his eye caught on a flash of familiar blonde hair, hanging over the side of one of the uppermost balconies.

His eyes were closed as he leaned against the railing, golden spikes moving gently with the morning breeze. Izuku knew he shouldn’t stare, that it would only hurt him more, but he couldn’t look away. Kacchan looked like a radiant angel, a god-like being too far above Izuku to be reached. If he’d known how things would turn out…

No, there was no sense in thinking about it. He couldn’t go back. There was only one direction he could go in, only one way forward.

Izuku went back inside to look for his friends.

***

The ceremony went surprisingly smoothly, considering the mood Katsuki had been in most of the morning. Yo’s chest swelled when he saw his fiance round the corner, looking very smart in his suit and the white tie Yo had selected for himself. The notoriously-private man was clearly uncomfortable having so many eyes on him, and it showed in the wooden way he shuffled down the aisle. As he passed his mother, reached out to pinch the side of his leg, which made him jump. Yo pinched his lips together to keep from laughing at the way Katsuki attempted to give his mother the side-eye while smirking.

He held his hand out to Katsuki the moment he was within reach, hoping it would help soothe some of his nerves. A trembling hand slid into his, and he thought of making a joke about quirk infringement, but then thought better of it. If he made a joke now, there was a 50/50 chance Katsuki would either laugh, or punch him. Or worse, he’d run.

Instead, he mouthed the words “love you,” which seemed to have the desired effect. A light blush spread across Katsuki’s cheeks and nose, and his lips stretched into an adorably crooked smile.

If it was possible, Yo thought he might’ve fallen in love again.

At Katsuki’s request, they kept the ceremony brief, exchanging rings and a few short vows. Yo didn’t want carbon-copy, straight-off-the-internet vows, so he insisted they at least try to write something for one another. While there was always the risk Katsuki could say something moderately embarrassing that sounded more like a threat than a promise, Yo still insisted he try, and even volunteered to go first. His vows were simple, listing some of Katsuki’s better qualities, and a few of the things he loved about him—with the added joke that he’d continue, but he was given a word count limit.

To his surprise, when it was his turn, the explosive hero produced a folded slip of paper from his pocket.

“I was having a hard time thinking of something to say. Um, you know I’m not great with words, so I kinda hated you for making me do this…”

Yep. Started out like a Katsuki classic. Yo sighed. Well, he knew what he was getting into when he proposed. It wasn’t like it came as a total surprise.

“…but then that’s the thing about you: you’re always making me try things I wouldn’t do by myself. I don’t dance, I’m a terrible person to take to museums, and I threaten to break your face every time you try to kiss me in public.” A soft round of laughter echoed throughout the guests, and Katsuki shifted his weight between his feet. “But you make me try anyway. You take me anyway. You kiss me anyway. You don’t change who you are, and you don’t expect me to change who I am. I might swear the whole time and think about how I’m going to break your spine later, but you don’t tell me not to. You don’t tell me I’m too loud, or that I’m too much. You let me be me. You tell people you love the things they criticize…”

Yo held out his hand again; he needed to ground himself, to do something to relieve the feeling like his own heart was about to burst. Katsuki folded the paper and shoved it back into his pocket, taking both of Yo’s hands in his and squeezing them tightly.

“I don’t know how this is gonna turn out. You piss me off on an almost-daily basis, and I piss you off back. I never know if you’re gonna get sick of me one of these days, but I know you’re getting sick of me asking.” Arched blonde brows drew together and Katsuki’s jaw clenched momentarily before he took a deep breath and continued. “I do know that I love you, and I’m gonna try really, really hard not to smother your smug ass in your sleep for as long as you want me sleeping next to you. No promises, though. Sorry.”

For all the smiling he did in his career, Yo’s cheeks still ached with the grin plastered across his face.

“I’m-I’m done,” Katsuki stammered, looking off in the opposite direction of their on-looking guests.

He was so cute. Yo almost didn’t make it to the end of the ceremony. When he was told to kiss his new husband, he pulled the man forward, pressing their lips together as he dipped Katsuki back in dramatic fashion. A wolf-whistle—probably from Mina, it sounded a lot like her—sounded in the crowd. They walked down the aisle and into the hotel, Yo pulling Katsuki into a nearby side room he’d scoped out prior to getting ready that morning.

Shutting the door behind them, he pulled Katsuki’s face to his, desperate to consume as much of the man as he could before someone noticed they’d gone missing. Katsuki’s hands reached into his jacket, grasping at the shirt beneath. Yo laughed as he broke off for air, pushing Katsuki’s hands away.

“Whoa boy, not so fast. We’ll have time for that later.”

Katsuki began to pout slightly, his lower lip jutting out in protest. Yo shook his head and covered the man’s face with his hands.

“So, hey about that ceremony…so much for short! Would have made mine longer if I knew you were going over. Always have to one-up me, huh Bakugou?”

Katsuki glared at him. “I stand by what I said earlier: you’re so fucking embarrassing. How do you live with yourself?”

Yo smiled sweetly. “Get used to it, honey. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh, that is not going to be a thing. Don’t you fucking dare make that a thing.”

Grabbing the front of Katsuki’s jacket, Yo wiggled his shoulders, shimmying them closer together. “What’s that, honey? Sugar? My one-and-only big mister sexy husband?”

“Okay, fuck this.” Katsuki rolled his eyes and pushed Yo away gently. “Where’s my phone? I need to figure out how long I have to get this thing annulled.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that to me,” Yo wrapped his arm around Katsuki’s waist, switching positions so Katsuki was pressed against the door. Slotting himself between his lover’s legs, Yo pressed their hips together. He smirked as he felt the twitch of interest against him. “That’s what I thought. You can’t say no to m—”

“Has anyone seen Katsuki and Yo? I thought they went through here, but I can’t find them.” Kirishima’s muffled voice could be heard nearby. It wouldn’t be long before they were discovered.

Groaning, Katsuki leaned his head against the door. “Told you we should’ve fucking eloped.”

Yo patted Katsuki’s chest sympathetically, stepping back to give them both a second to cool off. “No worries. We just have to hang in there for a few hours. Eat a little dinner, do some dancing—don’t even start, you promised your mother—and then we’ll be free to go back to our room and ignore people for the next two weeks.” He kissed the tip of Katsuki’s nose, chuckling when the man wrinkled it in response. “Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“I guess,” Katsuki said, shrugging.

“Come on, Gorgeous. Come suffer with me. You don’t want to people, and I don’t want to wait to tear you apart. We can agonize together.” Yo turned Katsuki around with a smile, opening the door and shoving him out into the hallway. Within seconds, they were spotted; the slapping of Jirou’s flats against the tiled floor signaled her rapid approach.

“Where in the hell did you guys go? People are waiting for you.” The petite woman walked around Katsuki and Yo and started pushing them down the hall in the direction of their reception. “The time to run was before the wedding, boys.”

The reception was a whirlwind that even Yo, with all his practiced socializing, had difficulties keeping up with. The bright side to all of it was that Katsuki was next to him, practically latched onto his hand the entire time. He felt a pang of sympathy for his partner. When it came to being the center of attention, Katsuki was only comfortable when the focus on him for something he actually did. While Yo would say that marrying him was a pretty big deal, he knew Katsuki viewed it as “simply showing up,” which didn’t warrant much fanfare. Still, he was proud of his man; the typically-agitated misanthrope sat through toasts and listened intently without pulling a face or making a snarky comment. He engaged with guests after dinner, and while it wasn’t the best footwork Yo had ever seen, he did dance with his mother.

While Katsuki got carted off by his friends to do some kind of bonding ritual that involved shots and an exhausting amount of yelling, Yo took the opportunity to slip out to the balcony for some fresh air and a bit of quiet. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one with that idea. Leaning against the railing, looking out at the night sky, was the one person he was hoping he could avoid.

“Midoriya,” he greeted, plastering on the warmest smile he could manage.

Yo learned a long time ago that the biggest factor in being popular was your image. Looking “put together” went a long way, but people usually got turned off if they realized there was a gap between your face and your personality. So Yo learned to leave no gaps, to create a seamless image of himself. It was taxing, but usually not a problem. He had enough smiles for everyone.

When it came to Izuku Midoriya, however, he found himself swallowing his smile, and that just wouldn’t do. The only smile he wanted swallowed was Izuku’s, preferably with a chaser of his fist.

Izuku looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh. Hello, Shindou,” he greeted flatly, turning back to continue what he was doing, like Yo wasn’t even there.

What Yo should have done was walk back inside. He should have turned around and gone back inside, wrapped himself around his husband, and continued enjoying his wedding reception. However, he’d consumed enough champagne and this man’s bullshit that he wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to be the better man. Strolling out onto the balcony, he leaned over the banister next to Midoriya and looked down at the sprawling landscape before them. The warm summer air and sounds of the nearby beach were soothing. It was unfortunate that Midoriya was ruining an otherwise lovely night with his existence.

“Having a good time?” Yo asked dryly, not particularly caring one way or the other. He only asked because it was the polite thing to do, and Yo Shindou was always a gentleman.

“Not really,” Izuku admitted. He turned his head to look at Yo, his expression deadpan. “What, were you expecting me to tell you I’m having the time of my life? I’d like to think we’re past pretenses, what with you getting intimately familiar with my personal life.”

The smell of alcohol wafted over, causing Yo to wrinkle his nose. Oh good. Midoriya was probably drunk, or on his way to being so. If he’d been asked to guess what the number-one hero was like under the influence, he wouldn’t have even come close to the truth. Who knew that the human embodiment of a beam of sunshine was a surly drunk?

It was interesting. Yo’s curiosity was piqued. How far could be get with the usually-restrained man before he lost his temper? Izuku Midoriya’s temper was almost legendary, like a unicorn, and much like a mythical beast, very few people had actually seen it. He needed to understand just what he was up against here.

“Not sure I would call Katsuki your ‘personal life,’” he said with a snarky tone. “And in my defense, you were done with him by the time I came around, so you can’t exactly complain.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell the freckled man was trying his best to remain composed—and was failing. Time to turn the dial a little. “Honestly, you’re like a child who gets mad when someone else picks up a toy they carelessly left on the sidewalk. You have no right to get upset over Katsuki deciding to get on with his life.”

Izuku’s jaw jut out as he worked it back and forth. He was either weighing his response options or trying to pick which fist to hit Yo with first.

To Yo’s surprise, he simply shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t have any room to complain about what Kacchan does. I don’t have a problem with him moving on. I want him to. He deserves to be happy.”

“Good, glad we can agr—”

“My issue,” Izuku interrupted, standing upright and turning to face Yo, “is with you. If it was as simple as you being the one Kacchan decided to move on with, I wouldn’t mind.” He took a step into Yo’s space, their chests nearly touching as Izuku leered at him. “But you decided to stick your nose into business that wasn’t yours, so now I do mind. What do you want, Shindou?”

Yo tilted his head curiously as he took inventory of the other man’s status. It was dark outside; the dimly-lit area was navigable, but it took a moment to adjust when Yo first stepped out onto the balcony. However, Izuku’s pupils were dilated. His nostrils flared gently and his mouth was set into a hard line. By Bakugou standards, he was beginning to lose his patience, but by Midoriya standards, he was already furious.

Very, very interesting.

Far be it for Yo to deny someone so serious the benefit of a straight answer.

“What do I want? For myself, a happy life with a happy husband and a fulfilling career I can be proud of.” His dark eyes narrowed. “From you? I want you to leave Katsuki alone, Midoriya. I want you to stop trying to talk to him, stop texting him, stop bringing up excuses to work with him. Just…stop.”

“And if I don’t?” Izuku asked, low and defiant.

Over the years, Yo had developed a resistance to vibrations through the continued usage of his quirk. When it first manifested, his hands would tremble horribly and it scared him, but with discipline and practice, he eventually got it under control. These days he barely noticed any negative after-effects if he stayed within a certain threshold. However, on the rare occasion, he would find his stomach still shook. At first, he thought it was a quirk misfire issue, that it was something to be concerned about. As he got older, however, he realized that the vibrations in his core were not related to his quirk, but rather, his level of excitement. As Midoriya glared up at him, his soft features hardened with disdain, Yo felt the trembling again. He was going to thoroughly enjoy beating this man’s ass.

His mouth pulled into a lazy grin, which only made Izuku’s frown deeper. “Let’s just say I read up on what prolonged exposure to high-frequency vibrations does to the human brain, and I don’t think you would enjoy it very much.”

“You wouldn’t. Attacking another hero is against Hero Public Safety Commission regulations.”

“Let me be perfectly clear, Midoriya: there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect what’s mine. And Katsuki. Is. Mine.” Yo gently patted the side of Izuku’s face. “Remember that, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my husband unattended long enough. Liquor usually makes him more compliant, but I like him better when I have to work for it a little.”

Izuku was seething, his breath quickening in pace. Good. Yo knew what came next, what always came next… He turned and took a few steps towards the doorway before pausing and looking back over his shoulder at the fuming man. Yep, one more push should do it.

“Speaking of, you should probably get back to your…oh right. Sorry, I’d forgotten you split up. Guess I’m not as obsessed with you as you seem to think. Wasn’t too surprised, though. It was inevitable.”

He heard the impact before he fully felt it; no sooner had Yo turned around, Izuku launched forward, tackling him to the ground.

***

Katsuki seriously hated weddings. His own was no exception. He’d spent most of the morning pissed off at a tie, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t that Katsuki didn’t know how to tie a tie, he just never saw the point of ties in general. He never wore one with his school uniform because they were such a damn hassle—definitely not worth having to fuck with on a daily basis. No matter what he did, the skinny black tie he’d selected did not look right. It was like his fingers had forgotten how to function. Kirishima said it was probably because he was nervous. Kirishima was an idiot.

Nervous? Katsuki Bakugou didn’t get nervous. He got excited to the point where his limbs itched to move, where his autonomic nervous system went into overdrive and he practically glistened like a fucking oiled god with the sheer amounts of nitroglycerin his body produced. But nervous? No. Not a day in his life, and certainly not when there was absolutely nothing to be nervous over.

He was also tired as hell, which could have explained it. He spent most of the night before trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t find a single position he could settle in long enough to fall asleep. Katsuki just didn’t fucking get why it was that big of a struggle. It wasn’t because Yo wasn’t there, that was for damn certain. He could sleep without Yo just fine; during the nights their shifts didn’t align, it wasn’t nearly that hard to fall asleep. Granted, he was usually exhausted to the bone and he wasn’t so much sleeping as slipping into a mild coma, but still… Did he like having the other man there? Sure. Even though he complained about all of the times he’d wake up with his fiancé wrapped around him or cradling his head like he was an overgrown infant—which was not, he kept telling the bastard—he’d gotten used to it. But he didn’t need him.

He also didn’t need to call Yo that morning during the big tie debacle, he just felt it was necessary to tell him how stupid the whole idea of them sleeping apart was. It was all really stupid, actually. Who in the hell invented wedding traditions, anyway? Katsuki wanted to pay them a visit. With his boot. Or the Oxfords Yo had insisted on buying for him. They were just shoes, and Katsuki didn’t understand Yo’s fixation with them, but he wasn’t about to have that fight…not with a man who needed an entire closet for his footwear alone. No fucking thank you.

Still, if—and it was a big if—he had to admit it on pain of death, he might’ve been happy to see Yo when he rounded the corner that led into the hotel garden. Everything was so damn white and green, but not Yo. Yo was black and solid, dark hair and dark eyes, the immediate focal point in any room Katsuki walked into since he’d decided to give whatever they were doing an honest try. When their eyes connected, a bright smile spread across Yo’s face and Katsuki’s heart lurched.

He was so fucked.

The hag called it “being in love.” Katsuki called it “the inevitable ticking time bomb that would probably actually kill him this time.” Less romantic, more accurate. He likened being in love with Yo to that moment right before you jump from a plane: it’s exciting and the view is great, but one misstep and you were going to die. There was no ‘maybe’ about it.

His legs managed to carry him down the aisle, but just barely. He hadn’t even realized he’d started moving until his mom pinched his leg. He’d nearly pissed himself from the shock, and if she’d been anyone else, he might’ve punched her in the face. But it seemed to be what he needed to break out of whatever stupor he’ d fallen into. It didn’t do shit for the flips his stomach was doing.

Then, Yo held out his hand, and Katsuki couldn’t help but think it was weirdly fitting. That was how their relationship had gone since the beginning. Yo was there, offering his hand, offering whatever Katsuki was willing to take from him. There were no expectations, no ultimatums. Yo gave him enough space to breathe, only chasing after Katsuki when he felt him pulling too far away. Even when Katsuki didn’t take his hand, it was still there whenever he looked, just in case he changed his mind.

Katsuki didn’t want to change his mind anymore. He slid his shaking hand into Yo’s and felt the gentle squeeze of reassurance. It was going to be fine. He was making the right choice.

“Love you.” Even though the words weren’t said out loud, Katsuki could hear them. Yo didn’t say them often; his philosophy was that they lost value if repeated.

“If I’m doing my job right, I won’t have to. You’ll know.”

Yo was right. Everything Yo did, big or small, made Katsuki feel loved and wanted. Still, when he did say those words, it made the hairs on the explosive hero’s neck stand up, like he was hearing it for the first time. The way Yo looked at him in that moment was so soft, so warm, Katsuki thought he might actually cry.

Not that he did. Nope. Took that shit on the nose like a champ. Got through his vows without getting too sappy, gave Yo the ring, and got the hell out. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled into some side room and his new husband was all over him. It was easily the best part of the whole damn day.

But it didn’t last long, and before he knew it, he was being shoved down the hallway by Ears like he was in middle school and trying to skip out on classes again. It might as well have been school, with the number of speeches he had to sit through. Kirishima’s wasn’t too bad, until he started tearing up and Katsuki had to immediately reach for the nearest glass to avoid saying something insensitive. He really was trying to be on his best behavior. He’d seen first-hand what a shit-show of a wedding could do to people, and he wasn’t about to deal with any of that drama.

Although, to be fair, there were a million other problems with the shit nerd’s marriage to Todoroki. When Katsuki heard they had gotten divorced he felt…nothing. He thought he’d feel happy or vindicated or something, but there was nothing. In a strange way, he almost felt bad for Deku, who looked about as miserable as he’d felt at Deku’s wedding. It was a shit feeling; Katsuki couldn’t honestly say he’d wish it on anyone, even if he did deserve it on some level.

Yo’s eyes followed his line of sight and he leaned over, brushing a light kiss on Katsuki’s jaw.

“You feeling okay, babe?”

Katsuki nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking Deku looks like shit.”

Chuckling, Yo slid his arm around the back of Katsuki’s chair. It was something he often did when he was feeling particularly insecure or possessive. Katsuki never pressed him about it. He did stupid shit in the name of his own ego all of the time, and it was no secret that Yo wasn’t a fan of Deku’s, even before he and Katsuki were involved. The brunette never stepped over the line, so Katsuki never felt the need to call him out over it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Yo asked, gently running his fingers along the hairs at the base of Katsuki’s hairline.

“Do I look like I’m having fun?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

Yo grinned widely and pulled Katsuki closer, leaning in next to his ear. “I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing with you than this. Maybe after dancing starts, we could find ten minutes and a closet somewhere so I show you at least two or three of those things.”

Katsuki’s face burned as ideas began to pop into his mind—none of which were appropriate for the situation they were currently in. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and the sound of his mother’s cackling at the table nearby. Nothing was a bigger boner-killer than his mom. He had half a mind to record her the next time she started nagging him about something so he could use it as a safeguard against Yo’s tendency to rile him up at the worst fucking times.

“You suck,” he muttered, gripping the hand that was slowly inching toward the inside of his thigh.

“Just trying to show how good you look in this suit.”

“My ass. Move the hand, or lose it.”

Yo sighed, removing his hand. “Okay, okay…”

“You were the moron who wanted to ‘have the whole experience.’” Katsuki glared at his spouse, who was making a show of pouting. “I was fine signing a paper and being done with it.”

“I stupidly forgot how hot you look when you’re all dressed up, so do forgive me,” Yo said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Why are you fucking like this?”

“Because you make me this way,” Yo answered plainly, drumming his fingers against Katsuki’s neck. “So yeah, it’s your fault.”

As he was about to open his mouth to protest, the announcement was made that it was time for the first dances to begin. Katsuki’s next hour was preoccupied with being passed around like one of the glass bongs Sero started collecting in his dorm room during their third year. By the time he’d completed his obligatory dance circuit of misery, his friends were already well into celebrating.

“Baaaakuuuugoooouuuu,” Kaminari called, slinging his arm around Katsuki’s neck. “You gotta come drink with us. We’re getting ready to play Cheers to the Emperor. Remember when we first played and Eijirou puked in your shoes? That was a great night…”

“No, it fucking wasn’t,” Katsuki balked. “It was the night before finals. I had to drag your hungover asses to class. You almost didn’t graduate.”

“Yeah, yeah, but we had you to keep us in line, so it was fine,” Kaminari said, waving his hand dismissively. “Guys, Bakugou’s in!” He gestured to a table where several of Katsuki’s old classmates were waiting. A clamor of shouts and applause erupted from the circle of friends. Kirishima got out of his seat and dragged a nearby chair to the table, patting the seat and motioning for Katsuki to come sit next to him.

Katsuki groaned, ducking out of Kaminari’s hold. Given the proposition he’d received from Yo earlier, he really had things he’d rather be doing. Or things he’d rather be doing him. He wasn’t about to be selective when the alternative was getting piss-fucking-drunk with people who knew more about him than his own family at this point.

“You losers can go ahead and trash your livers. I’m kinda supposed to be—”

“He’s in!” Yo shouted, coming up behind Katsuki and hugging his waist. More cheers came from the table.

“You wanna join, bro?” Kirishima asked, half-way standing to grab another chair.

“No, thank you. I appreciate the inclusion, but that’s really not my speed.” Yo squeezed Katsuki’s midsection gently. “Spend some time with your friends, Kat. How frequently do you all get to see one another? Besides, I’ll get you all to myself for the next couple weeks. You have plenty of time to get sick of me later.”

“So you were bullshitting earlier?” Katsuki grumbled.

“Not in the least.” Yo smirked and pressed a kiss to Katsuki’s jawline. “I’ll come find you when it’s time for a break.”

Katsuki frowned. He didn’t love the idea of being told to play nice with others, but Yo wasn’t wrong. As heroes, they seldom got the time to see each other, which was a bit jarring after practically living on top of one another for three years. There were also things that weren’t being said, but he understood the implications. No one knew when a fight could be their last. There was no guarantee he’d ever get this opportunity again.

“Fine,” he clipped. Slapping the hands linked over his stomach, he stepped out of Yo’s grasp. “If I don’t get a signal in an hour, I’m coming to find your ass.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Yo lightly pushed him into Kaminari, who draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him toward the table.

Plopping down into the seat next to Kirishima, Katsuki shot his best friend a sideways glare. “Couldn’t have helped out? I was gonna get laid. Now I have to deal with you morons until Yo’s decided I’ve had enough social time.”

“Ouch, sorry man.” Kirishima patted Katsuki’s shoulder. “We really gotta get a signal or something for that.”

“Yeah, you can make this motion.” With a deadpan expression, Jirou made a circle with her hand and shook her wrist back and forth.

Kaminari barked with laughter. “Isn’t that the same signal for when you think Gang Orca’s talking out his ass again?”

“It has many uses,” Jirou said dryly, punching Kaminari’s arm. “Now shut up and pour. I have some great rule ideas I know you’re not going to be able to keep up with and I’m looking forward to your destruction.”

“When are you two gonna just give up and get married? It feels like you’ve been doing this dance since year one,” Sero said, thin lips parting in a Cheshire grin.

“When she’s done chasing Yaomomo or you grow a vagina, whichever comes first.” Mina waved off the bottle as it hovered over her glass. “Nope, still feeding tiny Kat, so no fun for this momma. That reminds me, I need to check in on the sitter. Be right back.” She grabbed her cell phone off of the table and headed into the nearby restroom.

Kirishima shook his head, checking his own phone for notifications. “I keep telling her not to worry. We’ll get a call if the baby suddenly takes after his namesake and starts trying to burn the house down, although I don’t even think Bakugou was a terror at that age.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure,” Kaminari joked. “He probably brutalized his stuffed animals or something.”

“Hey Sparky? Go fuck yourself?” Katsuki grabbed his glass and took a preemptive drink. “I was an awesome baby, so their brat is also gonna be awesome by default. You’re probably never gonna have kids because no one’s dumb enough to get near you long enough for that to happen.”

“Bakugou, be nice,” Kirishima said, nudging him in the ribs with a sharp smirk on his face. “Denki’s got plenty of great qualities. He just needs to find a girl who’s into that weird derp face he makes when he goes all potato-brained.”

“You’re both jerks and I hope neither of you gets to sleep for the next week,” Kaminari said sarcastically.

Katsuki snorted and jerked a thumb in Kirishima’s direction. “That’s only a threat to this guy.”

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t be the first time. How do you think I got in that position?” Kirishima joked back.

“You’re both gross.” Jirou glanced around at the table to make sure everyone’s glass was filled. “Okay, so first rule, in honor of our newly-married comrade, is Bakugou drinks on seven—”

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of shouting. Everyone in the table turned in the direction of the commotion, but Katsuki was on his feet in an instant. Was it a villain attack? Had someone gotten injured? Where was Yo? What about his parents? Did they need to use the emergency evacuation plan?

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “Outside. Yo and Izuku are fighting. A couple of your friends tried to break it up, but they can’t seem to get enough space between the two to separate them.”

“Fucking seriously? For fuck’s—Shitty Hair, with me,” Katsuki commanded, breaking into a sprint.

“On it,” Kirishima said, following closely after him.

Katsuki’s mind was blank as he ran over. Pain, anger, and confusion lingered on the edges of his mind, but he wouldn’t acknowledge them. He only had one mission: locate and diffuse. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter. He couldn’t stop to think about how, or why. The time for those questions had long since passed, and he wasn’t interested in the answers anymore.

Shouts of “Midoriya!” and “Deku, stop!” became distinguishable as the two neared the area where the fight was taking place. Katsuki pushed past the slowly gathering group of people to get to the balcony. When the last person had moved out of his way, he found Izuku sitting on Yo’s chest, raining blows on him. Yo was on his back, his arms shielding his face. Sparks shot from Katsuki’s hands as he marched over to the shorter male, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and ripping him off of his spouse.

Deku fell onto his back, but rolled into a standing position, ready to strike whomever had gotten in his way. When he saw it was Katsuki, his face fell. Chest heaving, he looked from Katsuki to Yo, who was still lying on the ground. “I—”

“Deku, I really don’t care,” Katsuki said, voice lined with exhaustion. “Go home, before I do something I’m gonna regret.”

“K-Kacchan, I’m sor—”

“Don’t call me that anymore.” Katsuki looked at his childhood friend, the man he had loved for most of his life, the hero he was always looking to surpass, and he felt cold. Whoever this was, whoever he had become…he wasn’t the Deku he knew anymore. He wasn’t Katsuki’s Deku. “Don’t say anything. Just leave. I don’t want to see you again. If I see your face anywhere outside of work, I’m kicking your ass. Now. Get. Out.”

Ignoring the murmurs and whispers of the onlooking guests as a couple of Izuku’s friends came to usher him out, Katsuki turned back to Yo and knelt next to him. “Hey, you okay? I’m gonna be pissed if I’m already a widower, so you’d better be.”

Yo moved his arms from his face, wincing in pain. He had a noticeable welt on his left cheek, but his face appeared to be unharmed otherwise. Katsuki let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Everything good, dude?” Kirishima asked, kneeling next to him.

“Yeah, he looks fine. I’m gonna take him up to our room. Can you…deal with this?” Katsuki waved to the group that had gathered. “Make sure you check phones and cameras at the door before people leave. We don’t need this shit getting out.”

“You got it. Let me know if you need help moving him. I’ll grab Uraraka before she takes off.” Kirishima stood, facing the other guests. “Everything’s fine here, folks. Please return to your tables and give these guys a little privacy, okay?” He shut the doors leading to the balcony, leaving the two newlyweds alone.

Katsuki slid his arm beneath Yo’s shoulders, moving to prop him into a sitting position. “Let’s just get you…there we go…” He sat down beside his husband, grinding the heels of his palms into his tired eyes.

“It was my fault,” Yo admitted softly. “I goaded him into it.”

“I figured,” Katsuki said, leaning his head against the railing. “Deku doesn’t go apeshit like that without a good reason.”

“…you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m pissed.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Katsuki’s attention was turned to the stars in the sky above their heads, but Yo’s gaze was fixed on Katsuki.

“Then why…”

Katsuki heaved a heavy sigh, letting his head roll over to look at Yo. “Because you probably had a good reason, too. I know you, Yo. Deku definitely would have kicked your ass in the end, but you would have gotten a couple good blows in too. He looked fine, so that means you wanted him to kick your ass, and there’s only one reason I can think of that you would do that.”

“I have a confession,” Yo said, brows lowering in a serious expression. “I have a really big kink for getting punched in the face.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Katsuki laughed, leaning into Yo’s side.

Yo hissed in pain at the contact. “Ow, shit. Careful, babe…”

“Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m just a big baby.”

Smirking, Katsuki gently reached over and pushed Yo’s bangs out of his face. “Yep, he fucked you up good. Wanna tell me what you said to the nerd to make him go Plus Ultra on your ass?”

“Not really, but I suspect I’m not being given a choice,” Yo said.

“I mean, you could keep it to yourself.” Katsuki shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back against the railing again. “Up to you how your night ends.”

“I might’ve threatened him if he didn’t leave you alone and then told him that his divorce was an inevitability. I did so knowing Todoroki probably told him what I’d said at their reception.”

Katsuki slowly turned his head to look at Yo, ruby orbs narrowing in disbelief. “Well, that…explains a hell of a lot, actually.” He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. “You’re such a dumb fuck sometimes.”

“Looking forward to your elaboration,” Yo mused sardonically.

“I meant that you’re really fucking dumb sometimes,” Katsuki groaned, hopping to his feet. “As in, really fucking dumb. It doesn’t matter how many times Deku blew up my phone. I was done with him the second I walked into that bathroom and caught him with his fucking pants down. You never had anything to worry about. Idiot.” He reached down, grabbing the taller male’s arms and helping him stand.

Yo groaned as he was lifted, leaning back against the banister for support. “Can you really blame me? You have all of this, this history with Midoriya. How am I supposed to compete with something like that?”

This fool really wasn’t listening. Katsuki wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. There were so many things he loved about Yo, but they had similarly delicate egos at times. On one hand, it made him easy to read. On the other, it meant that he was every bit as susceptible to irrational behavior when he got insecure about something. Katsuki thought the peak of stupid was “mid-getting-dicked-down-in-the-bathroom” confessionals, but apparently, he was mistaken.

“Did it ever occur to your shaken brain that maybe that’s why I liked you in the first damn place?” Katsuki asked, his frustration evident in the growing volume of his voice. “A big part of my history with Deku is me being a dick to him and him being a saint about it up until he decided to pay me back with fucking interest.” He began to pace along the balcony, running his fingers through his hair to give him something to do that didn’t involve punching someone into the next life.

“So—”

“Not done,” Katsuki cut in, his pacing uninterrupted. “We don’t have shit like that between us. You and me, we work, and I don’t feel the constant, brain-breaking need to ask why. I’m hot shit, you’re hot shit, and that’s good enough.” He stopped in front of Yo, cupping the side of the brunette’s face with his hand. “That good with you? Can we finally get past this shit and just be good for a while?”

Yo studied him for a moment before nodding gently. “Yeah, I’m good with that. I’m really sorry, Katsuki, I don’t know what my problem was. I mean, I know what it was, but it seems really ridiculous now.”

“Damn straight it is,” Katsuki said, smirking. “I’m over it. We’ll sort out all the bullshit in the morning. Wanna get up to the room and take this damn suit off.”

“That sounds great, but uh, are you sure everything down here is settled?”

“Yeah, Kirishima’s got it. He might look nice, but he’s a hell of a bouncer when he needs to be.”

Yo chuckled, sliding his arm around Katsuki to brace himself. “Lead the way, then.”

After fielding a few questions from his friends and promising to call his parents and explain the whole situation once everything had settled down, Katsuki helped Yo up to their room. He drew a bath for his partner while he peeled off his suit, tossing it into a corner of the room.

“Thank fuck that’s over,” he sighed, happy to be out of the constricting clothing.

“Hey, it wasn’t all bad,” Yo said, face twisting in pain as he tried to shrug out of his own jacket. “You actually danced tonight, and you didn’t look like you were raised by ducks!”

Seeing the difficulties he was having, Katsuki walked over and slid the jacket from Yo’s shoulders. The button-up and undershirt quickly followed. As he pulled the fabric away from his husband’s arms, he saw the welts and bruises that had begun to form on his pale skin. He slowly exhaled out of his nose, reminding himself that there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Was my joke that bad?” Yo asked, raising his eyebrows.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. He should have known it’d take more than a few bruises to dampen Yo’s mood. “Shut up and lie back so I can take your pants off.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” The brunette leaned back, letting Katsuki continue to undress him.

Carefully, Katsuki peeled his pants and underwear away, leaving him bare on the bed. Even though he’d seen the man naked any number of times, there was something more intimate about it somehow. He dragged his fingertips across the plane of Yo’s abs, admiring the lines and definition of the well-toned muscles.

“You know…” Yo said huskily, “that tub can fit two. I’ll probably need a little help since my arms are banged up.”

Raising an eyebrow, Katsuki took a step back, folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and I have half a mind to let you struggle for the bullshit you pulled tonight.”

The corner of Yo’s mouth pulled up in a smirk. “You want me to beg? I’d beg for you, baby.” He sat up and hooked a leg around Katsuki’s thighs, pulling him closer so he could feather the blonde’s bare stomach with kisses.

“Dunno if that really counts as begging. I’ve heard better.”

Dark, half-lidded eyes glazed over with need looked up at him. “Please,” Yo breathed.

Fuck, Katsuki wanted to be stronger than this. He wanted to tease and torture his lover until the man broke down and cried. His traitorous body had other ideas, the growing bulge in the front of his underwear signaling the effects of Yo’s pleas. He really should have gone through with recording that countermeasure.

Sighing, he felt himself give in. It wasn’t like Katsuki didn’t have their entire lives to torture him, anyway.

“Fine. But no funny shit,” he grumbled, helping the other man off the bed and into the bathroom. Hands on Yo’s waist, he slowly helped him lower into the warm bath, trying not to focus too hard on the blissful expression that crossed the older male’s face or the low moans he made as the soothing water hit his sore muscles. For the briefest of moments, Katsuki considered getting some ice and sticking his head in it. Instead, he stripped down the rest of the way and slid into the bath himself, situating himself between Yo’s legs.

Sure, he might have to deal with Yo’s very insistent erection twitching against his back, but at least he could hide his own, and that gave him the tactical advantage. He rested his back against Yo’s chest, satisfied to feel the rapid fluttering of Yo’s heart against his shoulder blade.

“This is nice,” Yo murmured, pressing his lips to Katsuki’s temple.

“Mhm,” Katsuki hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. The warmth of the water and the solid frame of his lover were both very welcome, give the long-ass day they’d had. He might’ve relaxed a little too much, as he felt himself sliding down into the water. He shifted slightly to settle in a more comfortable position, feeling Yo’s cock pulse again in interest. Behind him, he could hear the sharp intake of breath and felt Yo’s stomach tense.

Fucking A, Yo was such a pervert. Even with his arms bruised half to hell, his brain was still only on one thing. Katsuki’s own erection swelled in response and he bit on his tongue to prevent himself from groaning. He wanted nothing more than to go back to earlier in the evening, tell his friends to go to hell for ten minutes—fifteen, tops—so he could go get his and then Yo could go off to do his party trick as the World’s Biggest Instigating Jackass. Now, the only way he was getting his rocks off is if he did it his damn self…

Suddenly, Katsuki got a wicked idea.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he said abruptly, getting out of the tub and padding into the other room. He fumbled around in the secret side pocket of his travel bag, his hands finally locating the bottle of silicone-based lube he was suddenly glad he remembered to bring. He’d have to deal with prepping himself, which was inconvenient as hell, but he’d still try to have some fun with it.

Toweling off as much as he could, Katsuki laid back on the bed, propping himself up with pillows to make the process a bit easier. He planted his feet on the mattress and let his knees fall to the sides. His erection sat against his stomach, swollen, leaking, and turning the tell-tale angry red/purple that told him he didn’t have long to work. He’d have to be efficient while also keeping himself from tipping over the edge. Coating the first finger in lubricant, he slid it inside himself, hissing as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle.

“Katsuki, you okay?” Yo called from the bathroom.

“Yep,” Katsuki replied, voice tight as he slowly curled the digit inside himself. “You just stay where you fucking are. You move, you’re dead.” He held his breath, trying to listen for Yo’s compliance. He could hear the movement of water, but it sounded more like the brunette was shifting in the tub than getting out. Good. He could sit and suffer for a while.

He bit his lip as he pulled the first finger out, applying more lube to a second finger and sliding them in. The stretch felt good, but it was nowhere near enough. A weak whine left his throat as he pumped the two fingers lazily, scissoring and stretching himself. It was a hell of a lot harder to relax when he was doing it to himself, and he had to be careful not to touch himself too much, lest he ruin his own plans. Soon after, the third finger followed and he let out a breathy moan—this time, on purpose, and loud enough to carry into the other room.

More shifting of water was heard from the bathroom, as well as the echoes of labored breathing.

Katsuki’s hand stilled and he took a moment to breathe and compose himself. “You better not be fucking touching yourself in there, asshole.”

“Seems a bit hypocritical, babe,” Yo’s voice was strained, the raspy sound traveling straight to Katsuki’s dick.

“Lots of shit’s not fair today. Deal with it,” Katsuki choked out, his head falling back as he bent his fingers in just the right way, hitting the sensitive spot inside himself that nearly had him coming on the spot. He bit down on the forearm of his freehand, trying to ground himself, but it barely helped. “Fuck it, good enough,” he huffed, rolling off his back. His cock ached as it bobbed forward, hitting the mattress.

An impatient hum came from the bathroom, Yo likely at the extent of his own limits. “You should have let him kill me,” he said irritably, pulling a smirk from Katsuki. “This is just cruel.”

“That’s what a punishment is, idiot.” Katsuki propped himself against the door frame, smirk widening as he saw the distressed look on his new spouse’s face.

“You’re enjoying this,” Yo stated flatly. It was an accusation, not a question.

“Damn right I am,” Katsuki said, crimson eyes raking over the other’s naked form. “Don’t worry, I’m not a complete bastard. I’ll give you what you want, but I’m gonna set some ground rules. No hands. You keep those battered fucking trunks you call arms up where I can see them. You’re not allowed to touch me until I say so. Bitch all you want, but the hands stay, or I leave.”

Yo took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back. “Got it. Okay. Hands stay right here. B-but you will eventually let me touch you, right?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Someday, maybe.”

“You’re a fucking brat.”

“Heard that one before.” Katsuki languidly strolled over to the tub, taking note of the space. Yeah, should be doable. Thank fuck for stupidly-sized hotel tubs. They sure as hell couldn’t manage with the one they had at home. He stuck a foot into the water, bracing against the side of the tub to keep from slipping. Placing his other foot on the other side of Yo’s legs, he nudged them gently to signal Yo to close them so he didn’t lose his footing. The last thing either of them needed right now was for him to fall.

“Please, take your time. This doesn’t hurt at all,” Yo said dryly, his jaw flexing as he grit his teeth.

“Doesn’t sound like the voice of someone who deserves to be rewarded.”

Katsuki was being an ass, he knew it, but damnit if seeing the usually-in-control Yo Shindou losing his composure didn’t do it for him. The stubborn man didn’t yield often, but when he did, it was better than anything else Katsuki could think of. Better than the crunch of bone beneath his fist, or blowing a hole into a solid concrete wall. Better than any medal or commendation he could ever receive, because this Yo was just for him.

No one else stood a fucking chance for either of them. Yo was such a fucking idiot for thinking there was.

“Please Katsuki.” Yo’s brow furrowed as he pleaded. “I need you. Please.”

What little resistance Katsuki had left snapped, the urge to chase satisfaction too great. He lowered himself to his knees, positioning himself on Yo’s stomach. Leaning forward, he gently placed his lips against Yo’s, reveling in the way that the man immediately opened up for him, letting Katsuki’s tongue delve into the hot cave of his mouth. The kisses were slow and deep, eliciting groans from both men. Katsuki reached back and grasped Yo’s throbbing dick, positioning it between his cheeks. Yo moaned at the contact, the low sound vibrating in Katsuki’s mouth.

Slowly, carefully, Katsuki lowered himself down onto the hot shaft, whining as the flared head pushed past his entrance and slowly filled him in that torturous stretch he’d become addicted to. He threw his head back as he bottomed out, the pulsing member inside him pushing against his walls.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Yo breathed. “You’re so good, baby, so tight for me.”

Katsuki couldn’t reply. He could barely think, the fog of pleasure was so thick. Any witty retort died on the tip of his tongue. The only thing he could do was move, lifting himself slowly and sinking back down in the same measure. His arms quivered as he gripped the sides of the tub for leverage. Even going slowly like this, he could feel the heat building in his core.

“Yo, I can’t…”

“Shhh,” Yo soothed, his own arms visibly twitching with the need to touch. “You’re doing so good. You look amazing, riding me like this. I am so lucky. So, so lucky.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I want…” Katsuki struggled to form the request in a way that didn’t make him sound totally pathetic. But he was. He was totally, miserably, wholly fucked by how badly he wanted this man, and he was too blissed out in that moment to give a damn. “Touch me, please.”

“Hold on, baby, I’ve got you.” Hands found the narrow stretch of his waist, gripping his hips and holding him in place. Water splashed up and over the sides of the tub as Yo’s feet found purchase on the tub walls, allowing him to piston his hips against Katsuki.

Katsuki’s cries echoed throughout the bathroom as he was mercilessly fucked into, each thrust slamming against his prostate so hard it made his body sing. His abdomen tightened with every impact, slowly pushing him towards the edge. He buried his face in Yo’s neck, messily biting and sucking at the muscled juncture along his shoulder.

“Hnng, Kat, I’m not gonna last much longer. You close?”

Nodding frantically, Katsuki reached between them and wrapped his fingers against his own cock. He shakily stroked it in time with the thrusts, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the friction sent him crashing into his orgasm. His entire body became rigid, and the hold on his hips tightened as Yo followed soon after, emptying into him with stuttering jerks.

Gasping for breath, Katsuki collapsed against his lover. He twitched as Yo’s hands dragged against his over-sensitive skin, fingertips drawing slow circles into his back.

“That was…” Yo cleared his throat as his voice broke.

“Great? Yeah, you’re welcome,” Katsuki muttered, feeling the day’s exhaustion fully settle into his bones.

“There he is,” Yo mused fondly. “There’s the pissy little gremlin I know and love. Was starting to wonder where you’d gone and what kind of monster possessed your body. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“Sounds like bitchin’ to me,” Katsuki said, wincing as he adjusted and began the process of cleaning himself. He needed to do it now, before he passed out. “Ugh, this is so gross. Thought being in the bath would make it less nasty.”

“Afraid not. Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet you’re real sorry…”

Once they’d cleaned up the excess water and had taken a shower to actually clean themselves—a feat Katsuki wasn’t sure he was fully conscious for, wobbling about in a half-dozing state—Katsuki flopped onto the bed and allowed Yo to curl up next to him. Sleep slowly crept in, relaxing his tired muscles. He examined the bruises on the arm that wrapped around him, frowning at the deepening color of some of them. Shit comment or not, Deku had gone overboard. Katsuki was inclined to return some of the bruises, but that would just start everything up again, and he was so, so fucking tired of the back-and-forth. He just wanted it all to be over, for that chapter of his life to close so he could start writing the next.

“Hey,” Yo said groggily, linking his fingers with the ones that were tracing along his arm. “It’s not your fault, you know. I got what I deserved.”

That was true, partially. It was also partially true that Katsuki felt some responsibility for letting the situation get out of hand. If he’d been more firm with Deku, if he’d been more confident in his relationship with Yo, maybe the whole thing would have been avoidable.

Yo squeezed him gently, kissing the tops of his shoulders and snuggling into him further with a contented sigh. Katsuki looked at their interlocked fingers, wiggling his so that his ring knocked against Yo’s. It was real. No matter what happened, he could remember this, and know that it was real.

“Are we good?” Yo’s question was quiet, barely audible as he whispered it against Katsuki’s skin.

Katsuki nodded firmly, gripping Yo’s hand tightly. “Yeah. We’re good.”