pro hero deku who has a wife and kids, the stereotypical ‘perfect life’, until he hires a babysitter, a teenager named katsuki who his kids get overly attached to; everytime deku stumbles home all wrecked and sleepy to kiss his wife and kids goodnight, katsuki watches longingly

katsuki’s too young for a family and he’s never been in a long term relationship but deku makes him yearn for something he’s never wanted before just from watching how dangerous he can be on the field compared to the soft, gentle version of him he sees behind closed doors.

and katsuki’s always been good at everything he tries so how would this be any different? he became a babysitter with no experience and the kids took an instant liking to him even with how brash he can be; that’s proof.

all he needs to complete the equation is deku, right?

katsuki sees how deku’s wife cooks and cleans when he’s gone—he can do that, too. katsuki’s the best cook among his friends, he’s a perfectionist who would always keep deku’s house clean if given the chance, and he already has the advantage of the kids loving him.

so now what?

well, now all he needs to do is get deku’s attention, which is quite easy with how much deku’s eyes are already on him when he comes crashing through the door on a late work night, kids tucked into bed and wife on her night job. it’s the only time deku can be alone with katsuki.

katsuki takes advantage of that. he takes advantage of the fact that it’s the two of them and he’s the only one around to care for deku and the kids, and turns it up to full throttle to prove to deku that he can be a wife, too. what’s the difference between his wife and katsuki?

deku gives katsuki money and tells him he’s free to go home, but katsuki says it’s fine. when katsuki starts cooking food for deku without preamble, deku pesters him and tells him his job is to care for his kids, not him, and berates himself internally for relying on a teen.

deku can’t deny it feels nice, though.

he can’t deny that katsuki’s an amazing cook, and he can’t lie and tell katsuki that he wants him to go home instead of help him walk to his bedroom, clean off his hero costume and tuck him into bed like he’s young again.

yeah. it’s nice.

and maybe katsuki’s plan will work over time; maybe if he keeps doing the same things deku’s wife does, only more frequently and even better than her, it’ll work.

he’s just competitive.

after all, he doesn’t have anywhere else to be other than the house, unlike deku’s wife.

but also unlike deku’s wife, katsuki doesn’t get the thankful kisses afterwards; he doesn’t get the good morning kisses and he doesn’t get the goodnight kisses, even after tucking deku into bed.

why doesn’t he get a kiss after he does everything she does? it’s unfair, right?

he can’t help but stare every time deku’s sweet lips linger on his wife’s for far too long and peck all over the kid’s faces like they don’t want to miss an inch; he wants that, too.

what would deku say if he asked him why he’s so different?

katsuki’s mature, isn’t he?

that’s why here, now, katsuki deems himself old enough for deku on his own. he’s smart; he knows what grown men want, especially a worn-out, work-ridden hero who just needs to relax.

katsuki can help with that. he’s tried everything but this, so it has to be where he lacks.

(intermission for cw: somnophilia (?)(a little), also to say that i’ve never posted a thread before so i don’t know where this is going. i’m just spewing my thoughts into the abyss so sorry if some things are inconsistent but thanks for enjoying :P)

there’s only one piece he can think of that’s missing from the puzzle, and looking down at the peaceful, sleeping deku, shirtless in colourful boxers, green hair a mess, muscles shifting and hands twitching, he wonders what would happen if he just...

katsuki has to work hard and prove that he can be all that deku needs—to earn a kiss from hero deku; that’s all this is, because katsuki won’t declare it as worthy if he gets a lousy kiss for free, no. he has to win it, and win he will.

this is what he convinces himself of as he climbs onto deku’s bed where he should be forbidden and straddles his waist, heart thumping and lungs stuttering from the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

he knows this is wrong—the kids are next door—but deku feels so right.

deku is warm and comforting but his skin is rough to the touch, and even though he’s close to veering off the side of the bed, his lips are parted and he’s nearly asleep, he still jumps when there’s a light weight pressed atop him, hands instinctively moving to katsuki’s hips.

katsuki’s breath catches in his throat.

he’s never had deku’s hands on him before, aside from a pat on the head or a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. this one is much, much different; it has the same tightness as the reassurance but it’s with intent—to keep his body close.

is it habitual for deku to assume it’s his wife and not katsuki in his sleep-aided mindset?

katsuki doesn’t know, but he freezes in his spot, eyeing the big hands encompassing the entirety of his small hipbones; deku’s palms are calloused and there’s scars lining his fingers.

but katsuki has to teach deku that he’s not his wife—he’s even better.

he grabs deku roughly by the wrists and yanks them up to his pecs; deku starts to knead them between his fingers, breathing heavier, and his green eyes fog over, small slits peering up at katsuki from below.

then, deku’s hips canter up on their own accord, almost nudging katsuki off his lap, and katsuki moans.

that seems to be what clarifies deku’s vision because he stops suddenly, prying his falling eyelids open to see katsuki in the dark.

except, he doesn’t have his glasses on.

“old man,” katsuki spits, and deku jumps in place, attempting to rip his hands away from katsuki’s chest and failing with the grip the blond has on his wrists, keeping them there. theoretically, deku could easily overpower katsuki, but he doesn’t want to hurt him.

“kacchan?” deku asks, and katsuki curses that stupid nickname the kids gave him months back.

“keep it down, the kids are sleeping,” katsuki hisses. deku struggles against his hold.

“you’re—this is inappropriate,” deku whispers-yells, panicked. “what are you doing?!”

“you could easily push me off if you wanted to, number one hero,” katsuki taunts, tightening his grip. deku shakes, swallowing hard as his palms sink into the plush of katsuki’s chest. “i just wanted to fucking show you that i can give you as much as your wife can, so let me.”

“what are you talking about?” deku whines, and it sounds desperate but not in a sensual way—more so like he’s confused as to what’s going on, squirming against the sheets and jostling katsuki in the process. “i-i’m a happily married man!”

“really? you’re happy? you hardly see each other,” katsuki questions, eyebrows scrunching in confusion; he may be a teenager, but he knows that couples should always be together... or he thinks. “i could be here, giving you all the fucking time in the world. you don’t want that?”

“kacchan,” deku breathes, squeezing his eyes shut; katsuki’s too young—too pure for him to handle. “you’re still young. you don’t understand. sometimes people need space! it’s not always sunshine and rainbows.”

“yeah, obviously it’s not with her. i could make it, though.”

deku can’t argue with the fact that his wife and him haven’t done anything sexual in a while, but that doesn’t excuse katsuki nor give himself a reason to act out... right?

deku is a loyal man, but why does he only want katsuki to leave so they don’t get caught?

on the other hand, why does katsuki believe deku deserves someone who constantly caters to him?

deku’s the number one hero; he deserves to have food cooked when he gets home and to be undressed after—not to stumble in, bloody and bruised, and pass out on the couch all dirty.

“i’m sure you could,” deku laughs lightly, meanwhile attempting to remove katsuki from his lap with the distraction of conversation, but he doesn’t budge. “but listen, kacchan—“

“why am i different?”

“huh?” deku questions, blinking rapidly and hands faltering midair.

“i do everything your wife and kids do, but i still don’t get a kiss when you come home,” katsuki grumbles, and he sounds petulant. deku hates that the tone reminds him of his own children, but the admission shocks him too much to respond.

a kiss? that’s it?

“this...” deku says miraculously, looking around the room in disbelief before making his way back to katsuki. “all of this is because you want... a kiss?”

katsuki blushes furiously; when deku puts it like that, it makes him sound stupid and he feels like a child when he’s not.

“shut up, deku,” katsuki pouts, blond hair shining at just the right angle from the moonlight pouring through the curtains. “nevermind. don’t worry, i’m leaving.”

deku frowns, suddenly wide awake and sitting up to reach for katsuki’s lingering touch.

“kacchan, wait—“

one of katsuki’s legs lift from the mattress, but it’s caught midair by deku gripping his ankle like it’s a lifeline; katsuki thinks his blood circulation is cutting off with how tight deku grounds him to the bed, and he hates himself for liking the thought of it.

katsuki whips around to seagreen eyes glowing through the darkness, gazing up at him with curiosity.

“i can give you a kiss,” deku whispers into the space between them, and that’s as far as the words go. what’s said here stays here, bouncing off their chests like a beach ball.

katsuki stares at deku in contemplation and some suspicion, like he doesn’t fully believe him. deku’s compliance catches him off guard.

“really?” katsuki asks, stock-still in the position deku holds him in.

“yeah,” deku nods, and he rubs katsuki’s ankle before letting go.

suddenly, katsuki’s hyper-aware of their size difference.

when deku had sat up on the bed, it was fine, but now he swings his legs over the side and they’re shoulder to shoulder; only here does katsuki finally feel like a child compared to deku, but he doesn’t let that stop him.

“if it’s just a kiss you want, then that’s easy,” deku says, scratching his head; his hair is unbrushed, knotty and sticking up this way and that. when he looks over with squinting eyes and his face contorted in discomfort, katsuki feels something blossom in his chest. “where?”

“on my lips,” katsuki declares, and deku sighs loud enough for katsuki to know it means he’s fed up.

“how about the cheek?”

katsuki sulks, “but that’s what everybody gets, even fans. stop casting me to the side!”

“i’m not, kacchan,” deku consoles softly. katsuki stares.

“fine,” katsuki grumbles, wiping the sweat from his palms on his pants. deku sits beside him with his legs spread, hunched over and elbows on his knees, hands dangling between.

katsuki shuffles closer until their thighs brush, marvelling at how big deku’s are compared to his.

then, deku leans back, “you ready?”

“‘course i am,” katsuki sneers, and deku laughs a sweet tune.

“okay, come,” deku says, guiding him with a saviour’s hand, and katsuki‘s body follows.

right before deku’s lips are to meet his cheek, katsuki jumps; “wait.”

“what’s wrong?” deku asks, voice muddled and scratchy with sleep.

“i wanted to get a kiss after i did something for you so i earned it,” katsuki mumbles, barely loud enough for deku to hear, “and when you leave in the morning and get home after work.”

“it sounds like kacchan wants to play house,” deku teases, and katsuki throws him a glare that could kill, even with their faces mere inches apart.

“no,” he deflects on reflex, pointing down at deku with accusation.

...maybe he does.

“don’t point,” deku scolds.

old man.

“i do what i want,” katsuki argues, wiggling his finger, and deku carefully wraps his scarred one around the entirety of it; the size of deku’s hand compared to his own makes katsuki feel dizzy but warm, like a thunderstorm in the summer.

(halftime to say that i know this has been implied since the first couple of tweets as katsuki’s intentions are quite clear but CW: CONSCIOUS CHEATING on an unnamed character, if you’re uncomfortable with cheating!)

deku doesn’t know why he does it.

it’s like an inkling, a gravitational pull that katsuki hones, and as loyal as he is, he really, really misses physical contact. when katsuki was on top of him, he thought it was his wife at first, but it’s the first time in so long that...

“kacchan,” deku whispers, “you’ve already done so much for me and my family. don’t you think you deserve one?”

katsuki’s face scrunches and his legs rub together with anxiety. of course he thinks he deserves a kiss. he’s the best wife and he voices as such: “yeah, i fucking do.”

“so, if you want kisses everytime you do something nice, then kacchan’s probably due over a million kisses, isn’t he?”

katsuki’s heart beats faster because—“yeah, i am.”

“like how you made me dinner tonight,” deku nods encouragingly, shifting closer. “that was nice, wasn’t it?”

“the nicest,” katsuki agrees, red eyes glazed over and lost in the greens that beckon him near; is this what it feels like to be with deku?

“indeed the nicest,” deku laughs, a hand migrating to katsuki’s shaking thigh. “then you washed my hero costume, tucked me into bed...”

“i do that every night,” katsuki says, nodding vigorously. he does.

“you do,” deku agrees, hand squeezing, “and it’s so nice, kacchan. usually i don’t have anyone to take care of me because of how late i get home, but you’re always here, aren’t you?”

“i wait up for you,” katsuki whispers; this is all adding to the list of things he does better than deku’s wife, and he wants it to keep going until he belongs to deku instead.

“even though you’re a student,” deku hums happily, “you never miss a shift and you never fall asleep.”

“heroes need to be looked after, too,” katsuki grumbles, embarrassed, and deku smiles his signature grin that has swirls swimming in katsuki’s stomach.

“you’re a sweet boy, kacchan.”

then, deku does what he normally does to katsuki—lifts his hand and pats him on the head.

the gesture would be degrading to katsuki have it be anyone else, but when it’s deku, it’s something of high praise, especially when fingers start to entangle themselves in blond hair, massaging his scalp.

maybe katsuki just needs reassurance.

“and my kids—kacchan, they love you so much,” deku reminisces.

“do they?” katsuki asks quietly, lost in the feeling of those talented hands; he knows the kids do—he hears it everyday from them as well as deku telling him stories of what they say on the rare occasion he’s gone.

“all the time—‘where’s kacchan?’ and ‘i miss kacchan!’” deku mimics, “and i’m like, ‘what about me? i miss kacchan, too!’”

katsuki raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “yeah? you miss kacchan, too?”

“of course i do,” deku says, ruffling his hair a bit. “who else would make me dinner?”

katsuki’s eyes widen, then he blushes, and deku stares in shock. where had that come from? alas, katsuki’s mouth finally opens and he says, “your shitty wife, maybe.”

deku tilts his head, averting his eyes. “ah, maybe, but—but she’s never here either, and that’s okay!”

“yeah?” katsuki asks, suddenly on the defence; he doesn’t know why he is, but his chest puffs out and he feels an underlying urge to start this conversation, right here, right now. “is it really fucking okay, deku? what’s she doing?”

“working,” deku responds, hesitant.

“working away from home?” katsuki asks, squinting.

katsuki wouldn’t do that to deku. he’d stay here all day.

“she’s a very busy woman,” deku laughs nervously, hands in the air—what is happening? “either way, that doesn’t give me a reason to... betray her in any way!”

all the way up until now, it’s sounded like deku’s been trying to convince himself of these words rather than what he truly believes, and katsuki can see right through him.

he’s the one who spends the most time with deku, after all.

“yeah? there’s no reason?” katsuki pushes, raising and intertwining his fingers in between deku’s. “what about me? can i be one?”

“n-no, kacchan,” deku whispers, and he keeps his fingers straight even as katsuki curls his own, holding his hand. “that wouldn’t be right.”

“it wouldn’t be right... but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun,” katsuki says, and deku blinks, lips parting when katsuki yanks him forward by the hand; deku is big and built like a tank so he hardly moves, but it still rids the few inches that were once separating them.

“fun?” deku breathes, and his breath hits katsuki’s ear as blond hair tickles his face. katsuki’s nose nudges against his cheek as he sets a wet kiss upon it, and a shiver shoots down deku’s spine from his head to his toes that curl, dark eyelashes fluttering.

he misses lips pressing against his skin with sexual intent instead of passing goodbyes. he misses being touched like he’s something wanted and needed, and when katsuki kisses his neck, it’s like electrical currents being rewired and he’s shocked in place.

has it been that long?

“this is wrong,” deku whispers, even as his muscular arms wrap around katsuki like a safe haven promising security. their chests meet as they’re tugged closer together, and deku shakily moans each time katsuki kisses a new area that’s been scraped clean in the past.

“why is it wrong?” katsuki asks, and deku suddenly pulls him back by the strings like he’s a fucking ragdoll that weighs less than a pound.

“for many reasons,” deku says, strict, and the two are nose-to-nose; katsuki’s eyes are locked on deku’s lips, longing for just one peck.

“kacchan, please,” deku whines, begging katsuki to listen.

green eyes snap between katsuki’s reds and his cherry-matched lips with concern, eventually turning his head away to hopefully crush the gnawing urge to kiss, too, but katsuki just keeps nudging closer and closer.

their lips are skimming and it’s featherlight yet in resemblance to ice clipping at the edge of a glacier, tearing them down to the bone and slicing them open with each brush; they’re destroying each other, bleeding out at the mouth but they can’t stop, so close yet so far.

each time, deku restrains him at arm’s length, but katsuki keeps bouncing back with newfound vigour, eyes lidded like something deku’s never seen—it feels like he has the reigns on a grizzly bear, cautious in distance but not moving an inch like it’s too mesmerizing to look away.

“tell me the reasons,” katsuki demands, burning rubies setting ablaze to deku’s greens. “what would happen if i just leaned forward and kissed you on the lips right now, huh?”

deku sighs, dark bangs hanging over his face, messy and split. katsuki searches his face for an answer.

“it would make me a bad person,” deku whispers, and katsuki raises an eyebrow because deku’s not a bad person.

he deserves love.

“and?” katsuki asks, provoking.

they remain steeling eye contact as deku continues with, “and my reputation as a hero would be ruined.”

“what else?” katsuki asks through clenched teeth, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he struggles against deku’s grip.

“i’d lose everything,” deku says, fingers tightening against katsuki in anxiety. “what kind of hero would i be if i cheated?”

katsuki stares in silence as deku’s eyes glaze over, dazed off—“you’ll always be a hero no matter what,” katsuki growls, and deku looks back at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, sniffling and inching closer to katsuki’s lips.

they look so soft, and katsuki’s so kind.

“it wouldn’t be very heroic, though,” deku whispers, and katsuki smirks his evil smile.

deku’s eyes are filled to the brim with guilt and shame, but he looks at katsuki for direction and comfort like he’s the antidote. deku’s vulnerable, and katsuki takes him.

“who cares?”

“what if the public views me different?” deku tests, hands travelling from where he’d been holding katsuki by the shoulders down to his sides.

“i wouldn’t,” katsuki backfires, brushing their noses together.

“you’re biased,” deku smiles to himself.

“so what if i am?”

deku distracts himself in every ridge and dip of katsuki’s body like he’s learned it before. their lips brush once more and deku laughs, “nothing, it’s cute.”

“you’re cute,” katsuki replies, and the words don’t really sound fond on the roughness of his tongue but he means well.

“kacchan,” deku murmurs tenderly, “you could ruin my life.”

“that’s bad,” katsuki humours, but on the inside, he claims victory. “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

“we can’t,” deku whispers back. he gazes down at katsuki, eyes wet and shiny in the moonlight, and they kiss.

(cw: nsfw)

firstly, deku’s cheeks are cold and they’re stained with tears. the kiss mingles with saliva and salt, but katsuki wouldn’t trade it for the world because it’s not just a saltwater kiss—it’s deku’s kiss, sloppy and messy and desperate like it hasn’t had one in years.

and katsuki has no say in what happens because deku’s a thousand times stronger than he is as he lures katsuki onto his back with a slow crawl down the bed; they end up on the opposite end, katsuki’s head nearing the edge at the bottom, but deku doesn’t even open his eyes.

he licks into katsuki’s mouth like he’s taking his fill and katsuki can hardly breathe through it as well as the mass hovering above him, coating him with a sense of security, but he’s harshly reminded of their age difference when it gets to deku’s experience compared to his.

deku lifts katsuki’s tank top to his armpits with one hand and shucks his sweatpants off effortlessly, and deku knows the exact spots to knead and massage his chest and flick his tongue; katsuki feels so small underneath him, and for once, it’s not demeaning.

it’s empowering.

and when deku finally takes off his ridiculous, outdated all might boxers, katsuki’s eyes pop out of their sockets, but before he can react, deku’s caging him in and talking into his mouth, saying, “kacchan, i have to tell you something first,” with tears in his eyes.

katsuki only knows because they fall and splash against his heat-ridden cheeks, squinting one eye shut and moaning into deku’s mouth as they’re frotting, one of deku’s scarred fingers resting along their tips for stimulation—katsuki’s never felt like that before.

but the crying never stops, and katsuki’s about to snap before deku forces his green eyes open and looks down at katsuki pleadingly, the whites of his eyes red as he says, “my wife is cheating on me,” and katsuki’s head, heart and stomach drop to the floor—what did he just say?

the thing is, too, that he can hardly focus in this environment; why did deku think that this was the perfect time to tell katsuki? at a normal time, he’d be blowing up, but now?

now he’s just succumbing to deku’s hands like a maiden, all shaking legs and trembling arms.

katsuki’s hands hesitantly trail up to cup deku’s cheeks; more tears escape and leak through the cracks in his fingers but katsuki welcomes them, panting as his blond hair splays around the pillow beneath him like some sort of fucking angel while his words are like the devil’s.

“deku,” he seethes; the new revelation ignites a fire down below, grinding his nerves into lava. “you knew all this time and still wouldn’t fucking kiss me?”

deku’s hips stutter but not once does he stop. he leans forward and places his forehead to katsuki’s, eyes squeezed shut.

“i’m sorry,” deku whispers brokenly, and katsuki stares up at him with so much pity that he’s almost glad deku can’t see it. “i’ve known for a while—that’s why she doesn’t touch me anymore and i... i miss being touched,” he babbles, and for the first time, katsuki listens.

“b-but i can’t ruin my image,” he continues, heart heavy where it bangs against his chest for the boy spread on his spouse’s bedsheets. “we only got married because my agency needed it for publicity—said i needed to have children and she needed the money. i can’t do anything.”

“you’re loyal to a fault,” katsuki marvels. just because deku’s married legally, he never.... “you—what the fuck? look out for yourself more, jesus fucking christ,” katsuki’s spewing everything that comes to mind as deku fucks against him, almost rocking his body off the edge.

“i’m trying,” deku sniffles.

katsuki grits, “you deserve love, too.”

deku’s eyes slit open. he catches katsuki’s beauty, but more than that, the blush on his cheeks—further than that, he’s forgotten something important.

he leans down, setting a soft kiss to katsuki’s cheek.

and surprisingly, even though deku’s touching katsuki between his legs, katsuki’s eyes instead flutter at the kiss on his cheek, lips parted and breaths stuttering. then, katsuki looks back up and fucking smiles for what feels like the first time.

“crazy old man.”

“japan’s perfect husband,” deku smiles bitterly, and katsuki kisses him again; he can’t stand to see this side of deku—the number one hero crumbling to his knees with only him to witness it.

“at least the kids are perfect,” katsuki chuckles, and deku softens under his touch.

“you really love them, huh?” deku whispers, slowing his movements and setting another kiss to katsuki’s cheeks like he does to his children—pecks over and over, every inch covered.

“i hate kids,” katsuki groans as deku continues to move against him, “but they’re an exception.”

(i wanna do different scenes because this was nsfw and deku was sad. i just want to write him as a papa, emphasize their age difference, make deku assertive and treat katsuki like a kid lol)

(+ i also can’t keep up characterization so have mercy but i like this upcoming deku)

and katsuki can’t help but wonder: is it lonely for deku?

katsuki’s the only person he can talk to; in public, the media would question if he’s seen with anyone other than his wife and even she doesn’t touch him besides the kiss when deku’s coming home and she’s leaving.

and it makes sense for deku to gravitate and let his walls down around katsuki because he’s the only person he’s able to interact with to avoid a public scandal. a part of katsuki is pleased with the fact because this means that deku pours his all into katsuki.

on the days he feels down, it’s kacchan, kacchan, kacchan—he depends on katsuki for dinner and his children’s safety, and katsuki’s the only person he can talk to and touch after working all day, sleeping a maximum of 4 hours before he’s up and running again.

but there’s a harsh reminder of reality in the morning, and it’s within the timeframe of which deku snaps between doting husband and workaholic hero, as well as responsible adult and the world’s best father, whereas katsuki’s title is just a student, a babysitter and a teenager.

it comes with deku swinging the bedroom door open, haphazardly pulling his hero costume up his torso with haste and clear panic. in the meanwhile, katsuki watches with interest and a raised eyebrow from his spot on the island, two bowls of freshly cut apples in front of him.

oh boy.

deku hops on one foot as he tries to slip his leg in, mask dangling from his neck and hood bouncing as he goes. it’s cute, really—katsuki’s truly blessed to watch an old man, the number one hero, spring around like a bunny while his kids laugh at him.

then deku’s crashing to the ground with a soft, overdramatized, “oof,” when he’s attacked by two little gremlins grappling onto his unbalanced legs, and that’s when they make eye contact.

katsuki freezes, looks away in shame, but deku keeps staring with intensity.

even as deku situates his son on his shoulders and his daughter on his hip, he lags over until they’re on separate ends of the kitchen island.

this is a different... aura. it’s somewhere katsuki shouldn’t be—where he doesn’t belong or fit in. he’s a misshaped puzzle piece.

he’s feeling the impact of the previous night’s consequences, guilt and shame piling up in his chest; this is a crime, isn’t it? he doesn’t want to be hero deku’s downfall.

suddenly, he’s not as confident as he once was even though he got everything he wanted. it’s bittersweet.

“daddy,” a voice calls somewhere in the distance. katsuki keeps his eyes down, burning holes into the expensive marble even as his ears sharpen. “kacchan made apples!”

“did he now?” deku asks, and it sounds menacing; is deku mad or is katsuki overreacting? “can i try one?”

“of course!”

there’s a nice giggle from deku and a soft thump as one of the kids is placed on the stool.

“not you, silly,” deku tuts. “i was asking kacchan.”

katsuki lulls his head to the side at his telltale nickname, but keeps his eyes on the ground.

ah...

“here,” katsuki grumbles, and he panickedly pushes a bowl across the counter. one of deku’s hands catch it with ease, palm covering the entire side because it’s small and made for children; katsuki sees the scars but isn’t brave enough to look any further.

he watches deku take one and hears him hum happily at the taste.

“you’re right! kacchan’s an amazing cook, isn’t he?”

the kids agree even though all katsuki did was cut an apple into slices. his ears turn beet red when reminded of how deku said that last night, too. fuck.

to top it off, deku’s eyes are still locked on him; he can feel them on his face even without seeing them, and one of deku’s hands is holding onto his son’s ankle while the other eats more apples.

nonchalantly, deku says, “kacchan should look up when i’m talking to him, though.”

katsuki’s eyes squeeze shut in trepidation before he shoots his head up—he’s never backed down from a challenge before so why is this one so hard?

even so, when he looks up, deku’s as handsome as ever, brushed green curls and matching starlight eyes, hero costume half-on.

deku smiles happily and katsuki feels sick, but it’s only the anxiety, not because of deku. no, deku’s gorgeous, especially surrounded by his kin, little hands tugging on strands of green hair. deku doesn’t even wince as they tug and pull, eyes concentrated on katsuki’s reds.

“that’s better,” deku says through a grin.

then he’s shoving the rest of the apples in his mouth like an animal and limping over to the door even with his son still on his shoulders, hands gripping small ankles as a child’s laughter rings throughout the room.

katsuki watches. deku looks like a fool... it’s cute.

“thanks, kacchan,” deku calls, taking his son by the armpits and removing him from his shoulders. instead, he holds him in front of his face, pecking all over his nose and cheeks, placing him down after. “love you, love you!”

katsuki slides around the island, inching towards the door with deku’s daughter tugging on his sweatpants.

“why are you in such a rush?” he asks; it’s the first time he’s spoken without prompt. deku looks over his shoulder, one cheek puffed from chewing and surprise in his eyes.

“oh,” is all deku says, bent over with a leg in the air as he tries to slide his shoe on. “i’m running late, actually. i... forgot to set an alarm last night,” he chuckles offhandedly, but it’s not funny.

katsuki turns pale. it’s his fault.

“i see,” katsuki nods dismissively.

“don’t worry!” deku exclaims, looking down again. “it’s okay! my bad.”

“yeah,” katsuki swallows, shifting his feet. “your bad.”

deku stands up, turns around and they lock eyes. deku looks at him with something katsuki can’t define; all he knows is that there’s sadness in it.

“i’m off,” deku announces. there’s a shift in his tone and demeanour, indicating that it’s all fake happiness, but katsuki doesn’t comment.

the kids get a million kisses as they beg deku not to leave like always, and katsuki stands to the side until deku walks up to him, too.

deku wants to lean in and kiss his cheek goodbye. he really does—it’s what katsuki asked of him—but he can’t. his children are watching and that holds him back.

red eyes peek up at him with hope, but they wince shut once deku merely pats him on the head. katsuki sighs softly.

“i’ll see you tonight, kacchan,” deku whispers. it’s as he always does, nothing different. “be good.”

katsuki nods stiffly, watching as deku goes out the door after saying another collection of goodbyes. now he’s left to worry about deku getting hurt at work until midnight.

the day goes by as fast as they normally do. deku’s kids are angels and only really listen to katsuki aside from enjoying to see how loud he can get like it’s a game.

the one downside is that deku’s genes are insane because he’s reminded of green hair and freckles all day long.

other than that, they watch all might cartoons and katsuki internally curses deku for projecting the older generation’s hero movies onto his children. it’s cute, though; katsuki won’t admit that he’s a fan of all might, too.

the only thing that’s new today is that when he tucks them into bed, there’s a soft call of, “kacchan,” right before he’s about to shut the door. he grunts in response and toshi (deku naming his son after all might—katsuki tries to crush his admiration) tells him to come back.

he does so, but not without a faux sigh of irritation. he climbs the ladder to the bunk bed and comes face to face with green curls, brown eyes and freckles gazing up at him in fascination; to toshi, he just sees a puff of blond hair pop up over the protective rail.

“what?” katsuki asks, forcing an annoyed expression onto his face. there’s a bubbly laugh; after so long, his normal personality has become something comforting to them.

“where’s daddy?”

katsuki sets his chin onto the mattress so they’re looking into each other’s eyes.

“i tell you every night, but i have to do it again, don’t i?” katsuki sighs and toshi smiles, nodding. the determination is too much in resemblance to deku. “well, daddy’s out saving the world.”

“is he the best?”

“the number one.”

“like all might?”

“exactly like all might.”

“i miss him.”

“you little brat,” katsuki whispers, pinching toshi’s nose gently. “don’t worry. you know he’ll come to say goodnight the second he comes through that damn door.”

katsuki tries to ignore how referring to deku as daddy in third person always make his stomach flip.

“i think daddy likes kacchan,” toshi giggles, trying to reach for katsuki’s nose as well, but katsuki dodges with a face as red as a fire truck.

kids often know things that others don’t—well, that are plain as day but never spoken of. they just say things as they are: the truth.

“i like daddy, too,” katsuki deflects, assuming that’s all this is, but—

“no, like, like-like!”

katsuki squeezes his nose harder.

“but when daddy comes in to say goodnight, he always asks about kacchan!”

“alright, that’s enough outta you,” katsuki hisses. “gotta go, buddy.”

“kacchan will be back tomorrow?”

“you bet,” katsuki says, ruffling green hair. “when the hell haven’t i, huh?”

“you’re right! goodnight, kacchan!”

“yeah, yeah. you better sleep, devil,” katsuki scolds, climbing down and hopping onto the hardwood.

“i promise!”

“good.”

and katsuki assumes his position on the couch without actually going home, waiting for deku like always.

what does deku say to the kids when he’s not around?

perhaps he gets too comfortable with his surroundings because he falls asleep for the first time since deku hired him.

and deku comes through the door to find a sleeping kacchan, baffled at the sight; kacchan looks so pretty and peaceful, facial features relaxed and hair soft, no signature frown or crass eyebrows to be found.

he creeps around on soft footsteps, making his way to his bedroom.

with katsuki asleep, deku has to clean himself off, peeling the sweat-slicked costume off his body like tape. blood stains his skin and he groans as it falls to pool around his waist, leaving him in a black tank before heading back out—he can’t get blood on kacchan, after all.

he crouches down, squatting in front of kacchan’s sleeping face; soft breaths fan against the couch cushion as he lays on his side, arms held up to his chest.

he’s so cute.

and deku’s fatherly instincts may scream at him to scoop kacchan up and carry him to bed, but he doesn’t.

instead, he raises a scarred hand and places it on katsuki’s bicep, softly rubbing it back and forth to wake him up.

“hey, kacchan?”

katsuki’s face contorts as if annoyed with the gesture, but eventually, those red eyes split open and widen when they see deku inches away.

deku’s gorgeous. his hair is far messier than it was in the morning, tousled from the wind and mingling with sweat, but katsuki can’t look away from how good he looks in his black undershirt, costume hanging off his hips and big glasses on his nose.

“good morning,” deku whispers, trailing his hand down to katsuki’s back and rubbing circles there. “how did you sleep?”

katsuki’s eyes flutter closed again at the touch and feel and sound of deku surrounding him like something cloudy—he always feels so good.

“okay,” katsuki grumbles, rubbing his cheek against the roughness of the couch; he probably looks disgusting. “shit, sorry i fell asleep.”

deku hums, shuffling closer on his heels and setting a chaste kiss to katsuki’s cheek. it sends goosebumps across his arms, hair standing.

“and i’m sorry for not giving you that kiss this morning,” deku murmurs, letting his lips move across katsuki’s skin and migrate to the side of his eye.

“guess we’re even,” katsuki whispers, hiding his smile in the cushion as he feels deku’s lips smile against his temple, too.

“guess so,” deku says just as quietly, distracting katsuki with kisses all over his face as he slits his arms under his body unnoticed—one under his back and one under his knees. “wouldn’t want to owe me anything, right?”

“‘course not,” katsuki agrees, laughing.

he’s laughing and he feels delirious because he usually doesn’t laugh so freely, but deku does that to him without even being funny. except, all of a sudden, the world is gone from beneath his feet as he’s raised into the air with one swift scoop, hands grasping for deku’s body.

“what the fuck—fucking shit”, katsuki curses, and deku’s glasses become askew from katsuki’s panic.

“it’s okay,” deku consoles, but katsuki growls, the vibration bouncing off deku’s chest.

“i’m not a child,” katsuki hisses. “you don’t have to fucking carry me to bed!”

“maybe i just want to,” deku sings happily, situating kacchan until they’re both comfortable in the marriage carry. katsuki’s jostled a lot and thrown up deku’s body more than once—he’s so light!—but he still sits like a petulant child.

screw deku. at least he feels like a wife.

plus, here, he has an up-close look at deku. he’s gotten pretty close in the past, but now he’s looking up at deku while in his arms like he’s being saved or something.

for some reason, he likes that idea.

he can count deku’s freckles and pick out each grey hair mixed with the green as he’s carried through the house, floorboards creaking and doors opening as they go. he can look up and see deku find their path, bite his lip and look down to check up on katsuki every now and then.

and katsuki’s almost lost in the way deku maneuvers around the house so easily, lifting and swaying his body in his arms whenever they pass small doorframes to avoid katsuki’s head like they’re practiced movements—until he’s blinded by a white light shining down from above him.

“where are we going?” katsuki snaps, hands coming up to shield his eyes.

“the bathroom,” deku chirps, placing him gently on the sink and beginning to shuck his hero costume off without prompt or shame.

“why?!” katsuki shrieks, but his voice cracks with the panicked outburst.

“we have to talk somewhere that nobody will hear us,” deku states. “plus, i need to shower, so you can sit on the toilet while i do!”

“don’t tell me what to do,” katsuki grumbles, but he moves to do exactly that when deku looks over at him with a calculating glare.

“fine,” katsuki frowns. “what are we talking about?”

his eyes are a little foggy and dry and his spikes are disproportioned, but deku pats them down with his warm palms before turning on the shower so it drowns out the sound of their voices.

“kacchan,” deku whispers. is it with pity? “why’d you do that last night?”

deku takes his glasses off with two fingers and holds them in the air; katsuki takes them without being asked and sets them on the counter.

“because i wanted to,” katsuki snaps.

that’s enough.

“that’s not enough,” deku mumbles, along with a string of other things, but they’re just out of katsuki’s earshot as the older man pulls the curtain back and steps into the shower.

katsuki watches, pulling his knees up to sit cross-legged on the toilet seat.

“you liked it, too,” he murmurs stubbornly.

“what?” deku asks louder than needed—katsuki panics, leaning closer to the edge of the curtain and whisper-yelling.

“i said you liked it, too!”

“oh.” there’s silence, then a nervous laugh, and deku’s following, “maybe i did, but—“

“there shouldn’t be a ‘but’,” katsuki cuts him off—he doesn’t want there to be ‘but’s. he just wants deku. “if we both liked it, then it’s fucking fine, right?”

suddenly, the sound of running water is deafening.

“i guess,” deku sighs, “but do you remember what i said?”

of course katsuki remembers what deku said; it’s been haunting him ever since.

“yeah,” katsuki mumbles.

“actions have consequences, katsuki,” deku reprimands, voice echoing off the tiles. katsuki shifts in place at the sound of his real name on deku’s lips.

the consequences...

“deku,” katsuki whispers with fire on his tongue, rage enveloping his entire being; it’s directed towards himself. this feeling’s been eating him away, itching to be set free. “am i gonna be the reason for your downfall?”

“pardon?” deku asks sweetly. katsuki rolls his eyes.

“god, are your ears going too, old man?” katsuki hisses, vaulting up from his seat and whipping the shower curtain back in a spur of anger to reveal a naked deku, green hair dripping and shock on his face, hands scrambling to cover his parts (hasn’t katsuki seen them already?!)

“i said, is it gonna be my fault that you can’t be a hero anymore?”

deku pauses; he’s facing the showerhead as it blasts against his red chest and staring katsuki down with a look of pure shock and disbelief.

“kacchan!” he exclaims, flustered. “don’t put the blame on yourself!”

“but it is my fault,” katsuki corrects, and deku’s hands drift away from his crotch to cradle katsuki’s soft face in his wet palms; water runs down his cheek to his neck, and he grips deku’s scarred wrist for some kind of grounding.

“it’s just as much of yours as it is mine!”

“but if i hadn’t started it, then nothing would’ve—“

deku chastises him, running one dripping finger past his cheek to tickle along the outer shell of his ear.

“we can work through it together, okay?” deku coaxes, his other hand smoothing down to hold katsuki’s shoulder.

the water sinks into the fabric of his black shirt where deku’s hand touches and katsuki contorts his face to make it a mask meant for hiding his real emotions; he’s... scared. honestly, he almost feels like he’s about to cry but his eyebrows crease and his lips downturn anyway.

this whole situation is too intimate and it fucking scares him; katsuki isn’t built for this kind of stuff. all he wanted was deku and now it’s backfiring to a point where he doesn’t know who or what to believe... other than deku.

and deku thinks he needs to stop taking blame.

“hey,” deku calls, noticing his spaced out look. “what’re you thinkin’ about?”

katsuki’s eyes come back to light and deku looks silly; water pelts against the side of his head, hair moulded into various shapes because of the angle and water cascading down the tip of his nose.

“nothing,” katsuki spits, shoulder budging deku away. deku hums curiously like he doesn’t believe it, catching katsuki’s raised wrist to rub soothing circles into it.

“why don’t you come in with me?” deku asks gently, nodding to the curtain. “it’s getting a little cold in here.”

“that’ll just fucking remind me,” katsuki scoffs, but he lets deku keep hold of his wrist, never struggling but smirking. “you wanna shower together, pervert?”

deku frowns, tugging katsuki closer; he almost falls over the ledge of the tub but catches himself.

when he looks up, deku’s smiling at him without a care in the world. “it would really warm me up.”

katsuki turns red—redder than deku’s inflamed flesh sizzling under the hot water, and accidentally takes his feelings out physically, squeezing deku’s wrist harder.

but he loosens it when deku winces and hisses at the contact—not in a good way; it’s like he’s being burnt, and his carefree smile slowly morphs into one of pain, teeth once joy-filled now clenched tightly together.

then, deku’s entire arm starts shaking in katsuki’s hand.

katsuki can’t help the guilt that shadows him. he doesn’t even know what he did wrong, glancing between where their touch meets and deku shakes, but as his eyes slowly travel up deku’s arm, he sees the giant scar nearly taking up the entirety of his bicep.

it’s gruesome.

and he doesn’t know how to apologize for things he’s accidentally done so he stands there petrified, pulling his hand back as fast as lightning strikes. he watches deku stumble back against the tile and rest the back of his head there, panting and squeezing his eyes shut.

but deku can read katsuki’s reactions without him having to say anything, no matter how vague the signs are.

katsuki’s worried.

that’s why deku slits one eye open and gives katsuki a painful—but reassuring although wavering—smile.

“it’s okay, kacchan,” deku says. “just my arms—with the scars and everything—sometimes, y’know...”

he trails off and katsuki has a sad expression on his face. all he does is hurt deku; would it be better if he left?

“overwork,” katsuki tries, and deku nods.

“yeah. that.”

katsuki observes them from a far. “do they hurt?”

“ah,” deku rotates his hand, looking at each ridge and angle. “more like a throbbing ache.”

and katsuki’s talented at everything so—“i can help.”

deku looks up, skeptical and confused. “how?”

“don’t ask questions,” katsuki scolds. deku blushes red when katsuki snatches his shaking hands, fascinated at how rough they are in contrast to his soft ones.

“o-oh, that’s okay, kacchan,” deku nervously laughs, fingers twitching from exertion and nerves. “you don’t have to—“

“i only do things i want to do.” katsuki scrunches his face, staring at the way deku spasms in his grip. “and i want to do this.”

“but it’s not needed,” deku pushes; really, it’s not. he’s never had someone do this for him because—“i’m used to it.”

“that doesn’t make it any better!”

“but it does! i-i’m fine!”

“you need to learn to take care of yourself!”

“if you’re that worried, i’ll go to a physical therapist or something, okay?”

“i’m not worried about you!”

“stop arguing with me, please—“

“izuku?”

then katsuki’s thrown under the spray of water like a cold bucket’s been thrown over his head; everything happens so fast and deku’s strong enough to hoist katsuki’s entire body over the tub and into the shower, clothes now stuck to his body and freezing his skin like ice.

“yes, sweetheart?” deku calls, and katsuki stares up at him like a shivering wet puppy, red eyes narrowed, upper lip curled and teeth bared in a show of frustration at the nickname.

deku gives him an apologetic look, and katsuki would drown himself in this water if he could.

maybe he didn’t hear deku’s wife get home during the day because he slept, and since deku just arrived, she’s probably trying to leave, but that doesn’t help the time bomb ticking in his chest, ready to blow up at any second from one wrong word spoken.

and even though the bathroom door opens when deku responds as if it’s confirmation, katsuki doesn’t wipe the indignant look off his face. no, he wants deku to know he’s displeased.

there’s the click of heels and the squeak of a cabinet opening. “talking to yourself again?”

deku gulps, eyeing katsuki down as if telling him not to move or act out like a child as he always does; he can’t let his feelings get the better of him here if he cares so much about deku’s reputation.

“you know how it is,” deku laughs, maintaining their eye contact.

“you never change,” she sighs affectionately, and katsuki sticks his tongue out, agreeing. deku grabs it between his fingers and smiles when katsuki’s eyes finally waver from childish anger to shock.

“it’s not here either?” she speaks aloud. “hey, do you know where my purse is?”

deku does because he remembers every little thing he sees. “hanging on the chair in my office.”

katsuki rolls his eyes; although, he can’t deny that it’s getting fucking colder than before. deku would switch their spots so katsuki’s under the hot water but avoids any movement.

“thank you,” she chimes.

deku releases katsuki’s tongue and katsuki sighs; he can’t tell if it’s because of that or in relief that she’s leaving, but when deku hums, sticking his head out from the curtain, she pats his cheek in goodbye, and katsuki watches his back muscles move.

“also,” she says, squeezing his cheeks and pushing his messy hair back. “i heard a loud bang—you okay in there?”

deku’s eyes widen; he’d forgotten about the noise he probably made picking kacchan up and putting him in the shower, but nods vigorously, anxious.

“yep! i slipped.”

“clumsy as always,” she says without a doubt. “alright, the kids are in bed?”

she steps away towards the door and deku closes the curtain again.

he hums in affirmation and says, “kacchan put them down,” just as he turns to see kacchan’s blushing face and arms crossed angrily.

“he’s a good kid, huh?”

they stare at each other.

“very good,” deku agrees, making hard eye contact with katsuki, and katsuki tries to scowl but it’s fruitless with how red his face is. he instead raises his hands in a choking manner, insinuating that he wants to strangle deku.

“okay,” she says distractedly on her phone at the door. “see you later!”

“bye!” deku calls. the second the door clicks shut, he leans back out and turns the lock; as he does, katsuki squeezes his ass and deku jumps, almost actually slipping this time.

katsuki laughs maniacally.

in revenge, deku whips around, grabbing katsuki and spinning them so that katsuki’s the one under the burning hot water.

katsuki rises onto his tippy toes, mouth opening as the water flattens his blond hair and sputtering curses up at deku’s smug face.

“you piece of shit—“ katsuki’s words tumble out of him, the sudden shock factor of freezing to burning making him inch away from the pelting water and closer to deku’s naked body.

but deku only laughs and travels his hands to the bottom of katsuki’s soaked tank, lifting it up.

eventually his top is off and katsuki’s not as cold or uncomfortable anymore where he’s sandwiched between warmth, deku on his front and water hitting his back.

“i hate you,” katsuki spews, shaking in the water but still letting deku do as he pleases.

“do you?”

and deku looks down at katsuki with his green hair slicked back from the wetness, a few strands popping at the front to dangle before his eyes.

katsuki more so feels like a wet dog, pants stuck to his legs and socks gross on his feet as his own hair obstructs his vision.

“yeah, i do! that was pretty fucked up, deku,” katsuki accuses as deku picks him up to remove his socks and pants, leaving him in wet boxers.

“i know,” deku grumbles, ashamed.

“but kinda hot, too,” katsuki smirks, and deku looks up at him with big, green puppy dog eyes.

“you think so?”

deku’s on his knees from having removed katsuki’s clothes, big hands now holding katsuki’s small hipbones like he did the first night.

“yeah,” katsuki says, running his fingers through deku’s hair. deku nuzzles into his stomach like a kitten. “you’re sexy.”

“sexy?” deku asks, entranced; he doesn’t know the last time he was called sexy aside from at work—his fans.

“but you’re still a dumbass,” katsuki grunts, fingers tightening in deku’s hair. deku whines but his eyelashes flutter up at katsuki in question. “she could’ve caught us!”

“but she didn’t!” deku protests. “she won’t!”

“how do you know that, huh?”

“we’ll keep it a secret!” deku sounds desperate at this point, matching katsuki’s own feelings, and that seems to calm him down for some reason; they’re in the same boat. katsuki needs to remember that.

“can you keep your trap shut for that long?”

“of course!”

distracting himself from reality, katsuki throws deku’s hair this way and that, spiking it into different shapes and halting when he finds the cute greys at the back.

“going grey, old man,” katsuki snickers fondly.

deku stammers, standing up at full height in flustered frustration. “y-you don’t have to bring it up!”

“don’t be insecure about it,” katsuki scrunches his face; he’s here to make deku feel good about himself, not bad. he’s the handsomest! “it’s normal. trust me, you look hot.”

“i’m starting to think you just say that to make me feel better,” deku grumbles to himself, moving back under the water so that his hair begins to stick to his face, hiding his red cheeks.

“well, yeah. that’s the end goal,” katsuki says, confused, “but it’s also the truth.”