Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Blood. Katsuki’s never seen so much blood—much less his own. He can’t decide if he’s dizzy because of the sight of it or the fact that he’s already lost so damn much of it. All he knows is that he’s fucked up, and bad, if the gaping hole in his left side and the four or so puncture wounds across his torso are anything to go by. And he has no flying clue what the hell he’s supposed to tell Eijirou.

Eijirou...

As if simply thinking Dumb Hair’s name brings forth his presence in some shape or form, Katsuki’s phone begins blaring with Eijirou’s ringtone in his back pocket. He struggles to pull it out; even the smallest of movements send shooting pain throughout his entire torso.

Eijirou’s huge, ridiculous smile greets him from the screen once the device is in his hand, and for a fleeting moment he wonders, fuck, is this the last he’ll see Eijirou’s smile? Like this, on this tiny, measly little screen?

“Hey,” he mumbles, breathless, into the phone after shakily tapping the green answer icon.

“Katsuki? Where are you?” He’s on the verge of panic; Katsuki can tell just by his voice.

“...somewhere down 8th Avenue,” Katsuki tells him.

“Did you finish the job?”

Katsuki’s eyes slide over in the direction of the singed, barely-recognizable body lying in a still-smoking heap a mere few meters away from where he’s slumped against a wall. “...yeah. She’s dead.”

Through the speaker Katsuki can hear Eijirou’s sigh of relief. “Good.”

“What... what about you? Is everyone safe?”

“Yeah, they’re all good. They’re at the courthouse and the paramedics are makin’ sure they’re all okay.”

Katsuki’s chin falls against his chest, his eyes sliding shut. “...good,” he manages. “You did good, Ei.” His body feels hot. He can’t stop his hands from shaking, and by now there’s a decently sized puddle of blood on the asphalt beside him. Fuck.

“Are you okay, Katsuki?” Worry has snaked its way into Eijirou’s voice; Katsuki can’t be the slightest bit surprised he’s picked up something off about him so soon. “Did something happen? D’you want me to come find you?”

“...no, I’m fine,” Katsuki lies, and hates it. He hates lying to Eijirou. But what he hates more is upsetting the idiot, is seeing those gorgeous fucking eyes of his fill with tears the way he know they will as soon as Ei sees him. Katsuki doesn’t want that. Not yet. “I’m not too far from the courthouse. I’ll b-be with you in a minute or two...” He immediately curses the stutter, but with the loss of blood and the growing pain as his adrenaline from the fight quickly fades, even simply breathing is becoming difficult.

How did you fuck up so badly?! he screams internally. What kind of fucking hero are you, dumbass?!

“Katsuki...”

“I said ‘m fuckin’ fine, Shitty Hair.” He tries to growl it, but to his ears it’s little more than a pained hiss, and he hopes to high fucking hell that Ei doesn’t hear it that way. “I’ll meet you there.”

But Eijirou knows him too well. Probably knows that, as soon as he was told where Ei and the rest of the citizens he’d brought to safety were, he’d be on his way. And the courthouse really is only a few minutes walking distance from 8th Ave., and with Katsuki’s quirk, he’d be there in no time. Or should be, anyway.

“No... I’m gonna come find you, okay? I’ll meet you halfway.”

Katsuki wants to argue, though he isn’t entirely sure why. And at this point, he has no idea how much time he might have left, and he’d be damned if he decides to spend his last shitty, weak fucking moments bleeding out by himself than with the only person who matters to him—the person who somehow managed to weasel his way in and steal Katsuki’s goddamn heart ten—no, a thousand fucking times over.

Katsuki’s not a fucking sap. Never has been, never will be. He doesn’t give a shit about all that cheesy, love-y bullshit you see on Valentine’s Day or whatever.

To him, Eijirou is more—so, so fucking much more—than that.

And he’s gonna break that damn loser’s heart—that heart of gold he probably never deserved in the first place.

Katsuki... has never hated himself more than he does in this moment, where he can already hear through the phone as soon as Eijirou is outside by the sound around him.

“Where on 8th avenue?” Eijirou’s asking.

“...still kinda by the apartment building,” Katsuki tells him. “I’ll... meet you at the corner at Main.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t want to, but Katsuki hangs up. Somehow he manages to get the phone back into his pocket, and that’s when the hard part begins—he has to stand up. He has to find some way to make it to his feet despite the blood pouring out of his side, soaked into most of his clothes. He almost can’t even feel his legs anymore. White spots have invaded his vision, and he knows he’s on the verge of passing the fuck out.

But he can’t. Not yet. He has to see Eijirou first—has to. He can’t let the last time he’s seen Ei be a view of his back as he ran into that apartment building.

Somehow he pulls himself to his feet; wobbles a bit, using the wall beside him to hold himself as steady as possible. And he’s only then beginning to wonder why the hell he didn’t just have Ei come and find him. Simply trying to make it down the friggin’ block might just kill him, and he can’t understand why he feels so hot.

He doesn’t make it. Knows he won’t the second he starts dragging his feet along the ground, unable to fully pick them up. He’s so fucking weak, so tired, and has lot so much blood.

“Shoulda just swallowed my damn pride...” he huffs to himself. “Fuck.”

He hasn’t made it a dozen yards away from the building before he falls to his knees. A bitter, metallic flavor has assaulted the back of his tongue, and fuck, this cannot be fucking happening. He’s gonna bite the fucking dust, just like that—like a fucking weakling who can’t even get rid of one shitty villain without getting hurt.

All he can think of as the ground seems to rush up to meet him is Eijirou’s shitty, dumb, smiling face; it’s the last thing plastered to the back of his eyelids before everything goes black.

Chapter Text

It feels like an entire fucking century has passed when Katsuki regains consciousness, and the second he does, he’s surprised. Surprised to actually be waking the fuck up. Surprised at how damn loud the thudding behind his ears is, at how hot he feels.

He lacks strength, though. His eyelids themselves feel about a thousand pounds each, and it takes an exhausting amount of effort to just barely crack them open.

Shit ... he thinks. I’m fucking alive.

His next thought is Ei... where’s Eijirou?

The room around him is unfamiliar, but it only takes a couple seconds to realize he’s surrounded by the white walls of a shitty hospital room, on a too-hard hospital bed with something taped down to his left forearm. An IV. Of course.

With sandpaper eyes, he surveys the room—a door to the left, another that probably leads to a bathroom, a counter spanning the wall beside it, a bench built into the wall in front of him with a TV mounted above it. The window, overlooking something he can’t see, is to his right, beneath it a small leather couch. And to the right of that is a matching chair, though it’s what’s in the chair that renders it important, seeing as it’s directly to his right and he’s forced to turn his head to see.

Eijirou’s asleep in that chair, halfway curled up on his right side with a pillow in his arms. As usual, his dumb mouth hangs open and his breathing is light but audible. His hair’s down, too, and splayed about behind him, tangled in a few places. Even asleep he looks exhausted, and it’s only then that Katsuki remembers what happened, remembers how much he fucked up. Remembers why he’s even here.

As much as he wants to wake Ei and demand to know what happened for sure, to know that all the people they were trying to save are safe, and to know that Eijirou himself is okay (or, okay enough—he’s clearly been crying; the red-rimmed eyes give that away), he doesn’t. It’s something of a miracle that Ei is sleeping now, after everything. He’s always been a bit of an insomniac, and stress is what keeps him up until Katsuki wakes to find him pacing around restlessly—too damn nice to wake Katsuki up in the first place—only to be pulled back into bed and soothed to sleep.

It’s... probably only been a day, but Katsuki misses the silky feeling of Eijirou’s stupid hair between his fingers. Misses his dumb warmth pressed against his back. Misses the color of his stupid fucking eyes.

Fucking gross…

As much as Katsuki might want to, he can’t go back to sleep. He’s too hot—but it’s not a kind of hot that makes him sweat, that makes his quirk so much stronger. It’s a heat radiating from the inside out; feels as if something is burning through his veins, eating away at his nerves. It’s not unbearable. He’s felt worse. Hell, the shitty puncture wounds and that damn gaping hole in his side were a hundred times worse, but he can’t feel those now. Must be painkillers—the same damn things causing him to have those sappy-ass thoughts about his loser boyfriend.

So instead of sleeping, he watches the idiot in the corner who’s very nearly snoring. Unusual, but not something that’s never happened before. Eijirou only snores when he’s really asleep, when something’s exhausted him so much—like several long days of endless hero work when they barely had any time for themselves… or each other, outside of saving people, interviews, and other publicity bullshit that they can’t even do together most of the time after having decided to keep their relationship private from the world.

Katsuki admittedly just wishes that Eijirou was asleep beside him, in his arms, instead of across the room.

Resigning himself to the fact that as long as he’s in this shitty, too-hard bed with all sorts of shit hooked to him, he probably won’t get to lay next to his Dumb Haired loser at all, Katsuki closes his eyes and chooses to listen to the soft, slow sound of Eijirou’s breathing.

As he does so, his mind inevitably wanders back to what got him where he is in the first place. Back to the mysterious villain who popped up out of nowhere and managed to cause the entire city to go on lockdown because of her quirk—one that Katsuki still doesn’t understand, but one he regrets underestimating. Blood loss may have left his memory fuzzy, but he’ll never forget those hideous tentacle-looking things coming out of her wrists—the things that’d put four puncture wounds in his chest and stomach and had ripped his fucking side apart as he dodged a piece of concrete being hurled at him.

She hadn’t been that impressive, and it’d only taken two giant blasts to take her down in the end. Yeah, she’d been fast and somehow those fucking tentacles were strong enough to rip up the sidewalk, but she had no strategy and relied entirely on offense, leaving her open for the blasts that took her down. (Blasts he’d been forced to use directly from his palms after his grenade gauntlets were destroyed, but the strain on his arms was a small price to pay for taking her out.)

Yet even with her lack of defense and strategy, she managed to put him in a damn hospital bed...

It isn’t long before the redhead stirs, though, and when he does Katsuki opens his eyes to see Eijirou’s open to two different sizes as he’s sitting up, his hair a mess and pillow wrinkles on his cheek. That sight alone tugs at the blonde’s heart, which sort of makes him want to puke at how sappy being with Dumb Hair has made him.

“Hey, loser,” he manages in a scratchy voice, bringing to his attention how thirsty he is.

Ei’s eyes land on his immediately and widen. “Katsuki, hey,” he says in a sleepy, scratchy voice that tugs a slight half smile from the one he addresses. “How long have you been awake?”

“Few minutes.”

Eijirou is at his side in the next second, looking him over with those red-rimmed, sleepy eyes. “Yeah? You feelin’ any better?”

“What d’you mean ‘better’?”

“You woke up a couple times and said you were in some pain,” Ei explains. “I had the nurse give you some more pain meds. Guess you don’t remember it.”

“Nope.”

“‘S okay. You were pretty out of it, anyway, and you were only awake for a minute or so. So you’re not in pain anymore?”

“No, but ‘m hot as fuck.”

Wordlessly, Ei gently presses a gentle hand against Katsuki’s forehead and frowns. “Really? You don’t feel warm.”

“‘S like on the inside,” Katsuki explains. “‘M also fuckin’ thirsty.”

“‘Kay. Think you’re okay to sit up?”

“Yeah.”

Eijirou reaches for a remote that’s connected to the bed and presses a button, causing it to move beneath Katsuki and sit him up as Eijirou shuffles to the sink, tugs a paper cup from a dispenser beside it, and fills it before taking it back. Katsuki mutters his thanks as he accepts it and lifts it to his lips.

“So how long’s it been, anyway?” Katsuki asks in a less scratchy voice than before.

“Almost two days,” Eijirou tells him. “They said you might sleep for quite a while as your body works on healing.”

“...hmm.”

“Are you sure you feel okay?” Ei asks again.

“I feel about as okay as I’m gonna get right now,” Katsuki tells him. “Since that fucker tore a hole through me.”

After Ei has pulled the chair he’d slept in forward and sat in it, he mumbles, “So you remember it?” He doesn’t meet Katsuki’s eyes when he says this.

“Yeah. What, you expect me to have some kind of bullshit amnesia?”

“Nah, I was just kinda hoping maybe you’d be spared from dealing with that, ya know?”

“Hmph. At least this way I get to remember blowing her to a fucking crisp,” Katsuki practically growls. “But everyone got out of the apartment building she was holding hostage okay, right? And the city isn’t on lockdown anymore, is it?”

“Nope. Everything’s pretty much back to normal, and everyone made it out safe.”

“Good. So they know her motives yet or what?”

Eijirou shakes his head slightly. “Uh uh. They don’t know who she was or where she came from or anything. I heard some of the other pros say it’s like she just popped into existence and started wreaking havoc for no reason. None of the witnesses know anything, either.”

“Great,” Katsuki drawls sarcastically. “It’s bad enough that she fucked me over, and now she’s just some shitty Jane Doe. Wasn’t even someone of note who managed to put me here… fucking figures.”

All Eijirou can seem to do is give Katsuki a mildly sympathetic look, but the blonde hates it, so he brushes it off. “Whatever. At least everyone’s got out okay.”

“Yeah,” Ei agrees quietly. “I mean, except for you…” Ei’s eyes point downward as he trails off.

“What?” Katsuki mumbles.

“What what?” Ei asks, meeting his eyes again.

“Why the fuck do you look all guilty ‘nd shit?”

“‘Cause,” Eijirou begins slowly, “I kinda can’t help but think if I’d been there, you’d be okay right now. If I hadn’t left you—“

Katsuki reaches out and snatches the other by the jaw, his fingers squishing Eijirou’s cheeks forward a bit and cutting him off mid-sentence. As expected, the redhead’s eyes widen and lock with Katsuki’s.

“If you’d been there, you might have gotten hurt, and I couldn’t fuckin’ live with myself if I let that happen. You did what you were supposed to do, and that was save the damn apartment building full of innocent people, and you prevented any of them from getting hurt, too. Don’t go actin’ like this shit is your fault, Eijirou, or I’ll blow your dumb hair off.”

In his hand, Katsuki feels Eijirou’s jaw clench just before he relents, reaching up to remove the hand from his face. Katsuki allows it, and he fully accepts the soft fingers threading gently between his.

“I just feel like shit ‘cause I wasn’t there to protect you, Katsuki,” Eijirou murmurs. “And I know your Quirk was a lot more effective against her than mine, but maybe I could’ve protected you since my Quirk’s really good at defense.”

“Yeah, or maybe you’d have gotten hurt and be where I am now. Or maybe both of us would be, and then you’d really feel like shit. So stop fucking blaming yourself ‘cause there isn’t shit you can do about it now.”

Ei’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing further. To change the subject, Katsuki holds out his cup. “Can I have some more water or what?”

“Yeah, of course.” Just as Eijirou’s standing up to do as asked, he begins to remove his hand from the other’s but is suddenly yanked back; he turns, blinking down in confusion at his suddenly very frowning boyfriend. “Katsuki?”

“What the fuck is up with your arm?” Katsuki asks, jerking his chin towards the redhead’s right arm. Eijirou turns back, holding it out for Katsuki to see—to take in the medical tape holding down a cotton ball on his inner elbow.

“Oh, this? ‘S nothing.”

“Nothing my ass,” Katsuki hisses. “Explain.”

“...it’s just that you lost a lotta blood, Katsuki, and you’ve got a rare blood type. And since my type is compatible with anyone and you needed some, I volunteered.”

For the first time, Katsuki looks— really looks—down at the IV needle taped to his arm. His eyes follow the tube up and up where several bags hang. One is half empty of an unmistakable thick, dark red liquid.

“How much did you give?” Katsuki grits out through his teeth.

“Just a couple pints. Nothin’ extreme.”

Though he’s still tense, Katsuki’s fingers gently squeeze around Eijirou’s. “...thanks,” he mumbles, relenting.

For the first time since waking up, Ei grins. It’s tired, and it doesn’t quite light his eyes up the way Katsuki’s so used to, but nonetheless it’s fucking beautiful. “Anything  you need, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s still in the middle of rolling his eyes when Ei gently tugs his hand away to refill the cup. When he turns back it’s to find Katsuki staring down the front of the hospital gown he’d been changed into.

His entire torso, Katsuki sees, is covered in bandages from his hips all the way up to under his arms. They’d wrapped what looks like gauze all around him over and over, as well as taped a square of it over the right side of his chest. There are a few bloodstains here and there beneath them, though where he knows it’s the worst—on his left side, at the bottom of his ribcage—they’re clean.

Somehow, just seeing the shitty, slightly blood stained bandages makes him feel even hotter.

“...she got you pretty good,” Eijirou says quietly from in front of the sink.

“Yeah,” Katsuki replies, just as soft. “Did they tell you how bad the damage is?” He releases the hem of the gown and looks back up at the other; any and all traces of that one small smile have vanished.

“Pretty bad. You got three puncture wounds in your stomach and one in your chest, I guess from her tentacles, but they’re not super deep so your organs are alright. But… your side was really torn up.” Eijirou can’t mask the crack in his voice despite the attempt to by clearing his throat. “I mean, really , Katsuki. Down to the bone. Your muscles and skin were just… shot. Like somebody took a bite out of you or something.”

Ei’s stupid voice is shaking now, and the water ripples in his hand. And fuck does Katsuki want to be able to just stand up, wrap the little fucker in his arms until he’s okay again because it hurts like fucking hell to see Eijirou in so much pain, to see those brilliant goddamn eyes of his glossy with tears.

But because he’s currently a damn cripple, he has to settle for words—which fucking sucks , because Bakugou Katsuki is shit with words.

“Hey. Don’t go fuckin’ crying on me, idiot,” he says. “C’mere.”

“‘M not crying,” Eijirou mumbles, quickly swiping at his eyes. He moves towards Katsuki anyway, discarding the water on the counter as he does so.

“Yeah you are, idiot,” Katsuki says. “And those ain’t even manly tears. I’m not fuckin’ dying, okay? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” He takes Eijirou’s hand—his big, dumb, soft hand and pulls the redhead close, turning his wrist to press the other’s palm against his chest, right over his heartbeat. By then he’s got Eijirou’s full attention; the dummy’s eyes are locked right on Katsuki’s, their faces mere inches apart. And tears have made wet trails down those soft cheeks. “This is part of what being a hero is all about, Ei. We all get hurt sometimes. So we just get better so we can get back to business. ‘S not a big deal. Got it?”

Eijirou’s nod is there, but it’s hesitant. The only thing Katsuki can think of to do at this point is wrap a hand around the back of the redhead’s neck and pull him forward to fervently press his lips against the other’s. Ei’s never been one to reject kisses, so it’s no surprise when he leans in further, his fingers curling around the fabric between his palm and Katsuki’s chest. Evidently he’s gentle, though, and completely aware of Katsuki’s injuries.

Injuries that, after only having been up for ten minutes or so, have already caught up to Katsuki and have drained what little energy all that damn sleep had given him. He allows Eijirou to be the one to end the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away when their lips have parted.

“Just… try not to scare me like that again, okay?” the redhead murmurs, forehead resting against Katsuki’s without opening his eyes. “‘Cause I was seriously scared for a while there that you were gonna die, and I really didn’t know how to handle it.”

“...yeah, alright. I’ll do my best.”

Eijirou’s smile—that stupid crooked, half grin thing that makes Katsuki weak at the fucking knees—returns, and he presses another soft kiss to the blonde’s lips before pulling away and offering the cup of water back out, which Katsuki accepts and sips at, trying to savor it more than the last.

⚜️

Later that evening after being checked up on by doctors Katsuki doesn’t remember the names of and being allowed to eat once they see how strong he is even with the wounds he’s got, Ei makes sure it’s okay with the hospital staff that they have a few more visitors.

“Who the fuck is coming?” Katsuki grumbles, glaring at the redhead, annoyed he wasn’t even asked if it’s okay.

“Not sure yet. Midoriya, Kaminari, and Ashido for sure, but Uraraka and Sero might come, too.”

“And I don’t get a say in this shit?”

Ei blinks up at him from his phone. “Of course you do, Katsuki. Sorry. It’s just that they’ve been really worried about you and they wanna see for themselves that you’re okay.”

Katsuki’s eyes cut back over to the TV he’d been staring at as he grumbles a “whatever.”

Eijirou knows Katsuki is trying to pretend his face isn’t warming and that the tips of his ears aren’t turning red, and it makes him smile to see the slight embarrassment.

After shooting Midoriya a quick ‘okay’ text, Ei sets his phone aside and takes Katsuki’s hand again. “Even though you’re kind of a pain in the ass sometimes, your friends still care about you, man,” he tells the blonde. “We all do.”

“Hmph. If I’m such a pain in the ass, why the fuck are you still with me? Especially after eight fucking years?”

“‘Cause you’re my pain in the ass, and I love you,” the redhead says smoothly.

“You’re…” Katsuki’s forehead is furrowed in a deep scowl, but even his cheeks have taken on a beautiful rosy hue now that Eijirou can’t tear his eyes from—doesn’t want to look away from. “You’re a loser,” he finishes in a mumble.

Eijirou chuckles as he presses a kiss to Katsuki’s knuckles. He loves that after so much time he can still make Katsuki blush like this, he can still embarrass him to the point of stumbling over his words. It’s not often, and Eijirou suspects that this time it has something to do with the painkillers running through his system, but it makes his day nevertheless.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?!” Katsuki half-yells.

“Shh!” Eijirou is quick to hush. “C’mon, man, we’re in a hospital. You shouldn’t yell.”

Unsurprisingly, Katsuki ignores him. “Answer the damn question, Eijirou.”

“I’m laughing ‘cause you’re cute,” Ei tells him. “And you make me happy.”

Katsuki feels like he’s about to fucking explode with the damn heat that’s flooded his face, but Eijirou’s big, stupid eyes are shining ; it’s such a contrast from the pain they held just hours before that Katsuki physically can’t be irritated with him.

“So then why the fuck are you way over there instead of over here kissing me?” he mutters.

“I didn’t know you wanted a kiss,” Ei tells him, his grin spreading so wide it scrunches his eyes and causes Katsuki’s stomach to flop. The redhead wastes no time leaning across the bed to capture Katsuki’s lips in a soft, quick kiss.

When he’s leaning back, the blonde catches the front of his shirt. “Who said you were done, Dumb Hair?”

“Wha— mmph!” Eijirou’s question is cut off and muffled by Katsuki’s mouth again as he’s yanked forward hard enough to cause him to lose his balance, forcing him to steady himself by scrambling to latch onto Katsuki’s knees.

Clearly, by the way his hand slides around Eijirou’s neck and his lips are fervent—almost urgent and demanding—Katsuki has more in mind than just a kiss . Elated, Eijirou follows his lead; though with the way Katsuki is practically dragging him onto the bed in front of him, he can’t really help but comply.

But Eijirou has always loved kissing Katsuki—from the first time their mouths had mashed awkwardly together all those years ago when they’d been sitting on the floor of Katsuki’s room, it’d become one of the top things on his list of favorite things ever, right up there with the blonde’s fingers tugging affectionately through his hair—the way they are now—and listening to the steady beating of his heart before falling asleep, even if it meant waking up with a stiff neck. Most of Eijirou’s favorite things anymore have to do with Katsuki, but really, after eight of the happiest years of his life, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

They both nearly lose track of time and their surroundings in those few moments of warm intimacy (but Eijirou doesn’t mind after having gone a couple of days without being able to be with Katsuki like this, while watching him sleep with skin shiny with sweat and constantly worrying about him) to the point where neither of them hear the knock at the door or the click as the knob is turned. It isn’t until a familiar voice rings out that Eijirou practically jerks back, embarrassed.

“Oh shit, my virgin eyes!” Kaminari’s shouting, dramatically pressing his hands to his face and peeking between his fingers.

“Whoa, we interrupting something?” Sero pipes up from behind him, grinning mischievously.

“Go away, losers, we’re busy,” Katsuki grumbles, not even bothering to glance in their direction.

“Well shoot, guess you are doing pretty good,” says Sero. “Should we… ya know, come back?” he jokes.

“Nope, you’re good,” Eijirou tells them. “Sorry ‘bout that, guys.”

“Were you guys, like, about to do it on a freaking hospital bed?!” Ashido practically shrieks as she wedges her way between the two in front of her.

“No! Of course not!” Ei defends quickly. “That’s gross! Plus, Katsuki’s still hurt.”

“Sure about that?” Kaminari asks, incredulous. “‘Cause it looks to me like you guys were gettin’ pretty comfy.”

“Shut the fuck up, Light Socket,” Katsuki grumbles. “‘S none of your business what we were doing.”

“Aw c’mon, Blasty, you know we’re only joking,” Sero says with his usual grin.

“Hey, so where’s Midoriya?” Eijirou asks, averting the subject matter.

“He had to piss,” Kaminari says casually. “But he’ll be happy to know Bakugou’s feelin’ good enough to be getting it on,” he continues, waggling his eyebrows.

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut that hole in your fucking face?” Katsuki shoots back at him.

“We were just kissing, anyway,” Kirishima tells them as he reluctantly slides off of the bed. Katsuki keeps hold of his hand, though, and he settles back in his chair.

“Please, you two were practically making out like teenagers,” Sero teases.

“I think it’s cute, guys,” Ashido says with sparkling eyes. “It makes me really happy that you guys are still together after so long. Like high school sweethearts! I kinda thought that was only something that happened in movies and stuff.”

“So what, did you shitheads come to fuckin’ tease us or what? ‘Cause I’m seriously not in the mood,” Katsuki grumbles.

“You’re never in the mood,” Kaminari says. “And nah, we really did come to make sure you’re okay, man. I think the news made your injuries seem a lot worse than they are, though, ‘cause you look pretty much fine to me.”

Glaring, Katsuki yanks up the front of the shitty hospital gown he’s apparently not allowed to change out of, revealing the thick, slightly blood stained bandages concealing most of his torso. “This look ‘pretty much fine’ to you?” he hisses.

The mood in the room takes a hard left, and each of the smiling faces instantly fall. Eijirou doesn’t even look. It’s only been a few seconds before the door starts to ease open again and a greenish head of hair pokes in.

“Can I come in?” Midoriya asks.

“Yeah man, c’mon,” Eijirou says, happy for a change of focus.

By the time Midoriya has stepped in and shut the door in his wake, Katsuki has already dropped the fabric and hidden the bandages again.

The others don’t stay very long, and Eijirou can’t blame them—Katsuki’s grumpier than usual, but no one can really blame him, not after what he’s been through. Eijirou’s the one to recount the events to them and can identify easily with their looks of shock and horror when he tells them the extent of the damage to Katsuki’s body.

It’s only an hour or so later and long after the conversation about Katsuki’s injuries when they decide to go, saying they have things they need to get back to at home and such. Eijirou sees them out by walking them to the elevators.

“Man, sometimes I forget how strong Bakugou really is,” Kaminari’s saying as they walk. “Like, I don’t know if I could take damage that bad and still have so much energy like he does.”

“Me either,” Ashido murmurs. “D’you think maybe he was downplaying it just a little? I mean, he didn’t seem like he was in any pain at all, but knowing what’s under those bandages…” She trails off, shaking her head as though unable to fully fathom it.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Eijirou tells them.

“He doesn’t like to worry you,” Midoriya chimes in, his big eyes trained right on the redhead.

“I know.” Eijirou finds some semblance of a grin as one of the elevators lights up and the door slides open. “I’ll see you guys later, alright? I’ll keep in touch and let you know if anything happens, but I think I heard the doctors saying they’ll probably let him go home within a day or two.”

“Take care, Kiri,” Kaminari says, holding out his hand for a fist bump. With a couple more from Midoriya and Sero and a light hug from Ashido, the others shuffle into the elevator. Eijirou doesn’t wait for the door to close before he heads back to Katsuki.

When he gets back, Katsuki has reclined his bed a bit, lying in one of his usual positions with a knee propped up and a hand behind his head, the other slung almost carelessly across his torso. He doesn’t seem to hear Eijirou return, though, because he jumps a little when the door clicks shut and his head snaps back in the redhead’s direction.

“You doin’ okay?” Eijirou asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” Ei asks as he saunters into the room. “You’d tell me if you’re in pain, right?”

“Yes, idiot,” the blonde grumbles. “Right now I’m just pissed ‘cause I’m tired and I wanna go the fuck home.”

“Well I can’t help you with the second one, but if you’re tired you should sleep, especially ‘cause it’ll help you get better quicker.”

“Hmph. That’s the weird part, ‘cause I feel fine. ‘Cept for this fucking heat .”

“Whattaya mean?”

“I already told you I feel hot.”

“That hasn’t gone away?”

“Nope.”

“Have you told the nurses?”

“Yeah. They said it’s a slight fever and it’ll go away soon or whatever…” he mumbles, but his eyes retreat back toward the window, his jaw stiff, like he doesn’t believe them.

“Well I mean, you’ve been movin’ around a lot since you woke up. Your body’s probably just trying to keep up with you. I think sleep will probably help,” Ei presses. By then he’s sunk back down into the cushion of the chair, and he’s trying to keep the worry he knows Katsuki hates out of his gaze, but it’s hard. His stomach has been tight since the minute he saw Katsuki, facedown on the sidewalk in a growing puddle of his own blood.

“...yeah,” Katsuki says quietly, “you’re probably right.”

Eijirou’s instinct is to smile in relief that Katuski’s finally agreed, but the blonde sounds so unlike himself in that one simple sentence that the knot in his stomach tightens with worry.

Neither of them say much more as Katsuki reclines himself a bit until he’s comfortable. Eijirou asks if he wants the blankets, and he declines, saying he feels too hot.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” the redhead says, gesturing over his shoulder at his chair.

“‘M not a fuckin’ baby, Ei,” Katsuki grumbles. His eyes are already closed, his breathing light.

“Nah, of course you’re not, ‘cause you saved a bunch of people the other day. You’re a hero.”

Katsuki grunts as Eijirou leans down, gently pushing the hair over the blonde’s forehead back to press a kiss to it. Katsuki’s eyes crack open again when he feels it and then he’s reaching up, wrapping a fist around Eijirou’s collar and pulling his mouth down to his lips instead, kissing him long and deep until he’s forced to come up for air.

“Man, you’re super affectionate today,” Eijirou murmurs, grinning and still close enough to be speaking lightly against Katsuki’s lips.

“Got a problem with it?” Katsuki asks. Eijirou knows he meant for it to come out as one of his usual grumbles, but it doesn’t.

“Not at all.” Ei kisses him again, gentler and shorter, before standing up again and tugging his hand lightly through Katsuki’s hair. When the blonde relaxes under the touch, his eyes falling slowly closed again, Eijirou says, “Want me to stay here till you fall asleep?”

Katsuki’s responding hum is one of affirmation, so Eijirou stays, gently pulling his fingers through the fluff of blonde that is Katsuki’s hair for a while until he knows the other has fallen asleep. And he thinks as he does so, leaving his gaze resting on the other’s relaxed features, that Katsuki doesn’t feel warm. He doesn’t really feel warm at all . He feels cold. Too cold. And it isn’t easy for Eijirou to swallow past the growing lump in his throat.

Chapter Text

The next day or so is filled with stupid tests Katsuki doesn’t give a shit about doing, and he can’t even keep track of most of them. They let him walk, fortunately, rather than get pushed around the place in a fucking wheelchair like a goddamn cripple, and Ei stays beside him whenever he can. They change his bandages several times, too, and his stomach churns at the sight of his wounds—particularly the one on his left side, all stitched up and weirdly puckered.

By the end of it, all he wants is to go the fuck home and sleep in a bed that doesn’t feel like a block of fucking cement. And though Ei is allowed to stay with him as long as he wants (which, to no surprise, is all the time), he’s not allowed to sleep next to Katsuki, which pisses him off. He won’t say it, though, but he doesn’t have to—as he sometimes does, Ei says it for him.

“Dude, it sucks not being able to sleep next to you,” he mumbles in the morning. “I’m so used to it and when I wake up and you’re not right there it’s… weird .”

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ telling me,” Katsuki grumbles. After that, though, Eijirou threads his big, warm, stupid fingers through Katsuki’s, and it helps.

It’s not long after that when a familiar face emerges at the heels of a nurse Katsuki met the day before—All Might, someone they haven’t seen in months . Needless to say, they’re surprised to see him.

“Good afternoon, boys,” he says upon entry, giving them that soft, friendly smile.

“Hey, All Might!” Eijirou greets cheerfully, immediately going for a fist bump, which the ex hero responds to easily.

“I’d ask how you are but I suspect I can guess the answer,” All Might says once he’s seated. The nurse remains quiet as he moves to check Katsuki’s IV bags.

“I’m fuckin’ annoyed that I’m still here,” says Katsuki. “This bed sucks.”

“I’m sure, but it’s good to see you’re sounding like yourself, Bakugou,” All Might says. “Everyone’s been talking about how you’ve taken a pretty hard hit.”

“‘S nothing,” Katsuki mumbles.

All Might doesn’t smile as expected. Instead, a grim frown sets across his brow. “Unfortunately, that isn’t so true,” he says, the tone of his voice resembling his expression.

At the sound of it, Eijirou’s face falls, his forehead wrinkling into a frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been speaking with the doctor who’s been working with you,” the man explains, speaking more to Katsuki than Eijirou. “And… we have some… unfortunate news. We wanted to wait and tell you until you were feeling yourself again, and I thought it might help to hear it from a friend.”

While Katuski’s jaw is tense, Eijirou is the one who speaks despite his wide eyes and tightening fingers in evident fear of whatever All Might is about to tell them. “What… kind of unfortunate news?” he asks, almost cautious.

Still, All Might’s gaze stays on the one occupying the hospital bed, though he’s clearly speaking to both of them. “After the autopsy on the nameless villain you stopped, we’ve discovered that… there was more to her Quirk than simply the tentacles, which is how she managed to kill so quickly and easily and cause the entire city to go on lockdown.”

As the nurse is on her way out, Eijirou jumps in. “But we already knew that, didn’t we? ‘Cause of the way all of her victims shriveled up,” he justifies. Katsuki can hear the false kind of hope that’s snaked his way into his voice—hope that that’s all it is. Hope that it’s something he already knew. And yet, with the grim look never so much as faltering in the dark eyes of the ex hero across the room, Katsuki knows better. He, too, tightens his grip on the redhead’s hand. Feeling this, Ei spares him a glance he doesn’t return.

“Yes,” continues All Might, “but with the results of the autopsy we’ve found just what it was that her Quirk entailed. And I’m afraid it isn’t good.”

“Just spit it out,” Katsuki says finally. He can’t fucking stand all this beating-around-the-bush bullshit. The sooner he hears it, the sooner he can just deal with it already.

All Might draws in a deep, centering breath. “It turns out those tentacles contained some form of radioactive poison, for lack of a better word, though it’s impossible to tell what exactly that means due to the damage to them. It’s a type of poison that no one’s ever really seen before, so we know very little about it. What little we have managed to gather is from her body as well as the bodies of her victims who we managed to retrieve from her attack.

“What we know for sure, however, is that she used her tentacles as weapons to, in a sense, inject this supposed poison--or venom, if you will--into her victims, and that the amount injected is relative to how quickly the victims’ bodies decay and perish.”

The more All Might speaks, the more Katsuki feels like he wants to fucking throw up. He can’t seem to find his eyelids to blink, and his jaw is beginning to ache from how tightly his teeth are clenched together.

“...damn,” Eijirou whispers, eyes wide and remaining on All Might.

“Indeed, however… that isn’t even the most unfortunate part about this. It… has to do with you, specifically, Bakugou. The ‘injectors’, if you will, were located in the tips of each of her tentacles. Meaning—“

“—when she used them to attack like she did, poison went into the victim’s body…” Ei sits back, his words slow as though a representation of how the pieces of All Mights information is being stitched together in his head.

“...you’re right on the money, Kirishima,” says the ex-hero ruefully.

Eijirou is no longer looking at All Might. No, his big, wide, bright red eyes are staring straight at Katsuki’s torso, at where underneath the shitty hospital garb, he’s covered in bandages. Bandages that covered wounds from that damn villain’s tentacles.

“That means…” Katsuki’s eyes are also away from All Might, on Eijirou; as soon as he speaks, the other’s eyes flick up to his. “ Fuck,” he hisses.

“It means,” All Might continues when neither of them have said anything else for a good, long moment, “that there are now trace amounts of this unknown ‘radioactive poison’ in your system, Young Bakugou. From the tests you’ve undergone, however, they’ve discovered it isn’t much.”

“...but?” Katsuki finally manages to tear his eyes from his boyfriend, to find the dark eyes of the former symbol of peace once more. His gut is tight. His heartbeat is elevated. He knows there’s a but, but he almost doesn’t even wanna fucking hear it.

“However,” All Might goes on in a grim voice, “it will spread. Not quickly, but it will. Slowly your body will become a victim of what is presumably radioactive decay, and I’m afraid you will become no different than the other victims the nameless villain put down in her wake of destruction.”

“How do we stop it?” Ei asks; he doesn’t entirely sound like himself. His voice has taken on a pleading, panicked edge that only causes the knot in Katsuki’s stomach to tighten, to make him feel even more like he wants to fucking puke.

“I’m afraid there is no way to stop it or even slow it down,” All Might responds. “We only know enough about it and that villain’s Quirk to be able to predict approximately how fast it will spread. I’m sorry.”

“What… what about Recovery Girl?” Ei says quickly, his voice sharp and his hand almost too tight around Katsuki’s. He’s panicking. Katsuki can feel it. And yet he’s the only one...

“That is one option,” All Might reasons. “However because she’s been enjoying her retirement in Italy, we’re not sure how soon or even how willing she would be to come help. Even if she was, there’s no guarantee she would be capable of helping. This is a kind of Quirk and condition we’ve never really seen before, which is why there isn’t any medical cure or treatment.”

Katsuki stares at him for a good, long minute, his entire body tense and his brows smashed together.

“A-and you’re sure… that this is what it is?” Eijirou asks shakily. “There’s no mistake?”

“I’m telling you exactly what I was told. I… wish I’d come bearing better news.”

“I wish I hadn’t been so fucking clumsy in fighting that bitch,” Katsuki hisses.

“Even the greatest of heroes can’t avoid all injury, Bakugou,” All Might says. “I’m nothing if not an example of that. Continually blaming yourself for it is only going to make this process that much harder for you.”

“What process?” Katsuki snaps. “The process of dying ?!”

“Katsuki—“

“No, you’re right,” All Might cuts in. “You have every reason to be angry. Both of you. Believe me when I say I know there’s nothing I can say to make any of this easier or less painful. But if you need me, I’ll be here every step of the way. All you need is to call me if ever I can help.”

“Th-thanks, All Might. We appreciate it. I… think we need some time alone now, though,” Eijirou says in what Katsuki knows is a deceptively calm tenor. He knows it’s deceptive because of the way Eijirou’s hand is tense and how he speaks without looking directly at the ex-hero.

“Completely understandable.” All Might stands. “Don’t forget my offer. And you have my word that I won’t speak to anyone else about this until granted permission from the two of you.”

Eijirou nods; Katsuki can’t tear his eyes from his own lap. He can’t even seem to find his voice to say his farewell to All Might before the door clicks shut. Even then he isn’t broken out of this stupor or imagining himself being destroyed from the inside out.

Katsuki’s head is spinning at a thousand fucking miles an hour. Somehow he feels even hotter than before, and his stomach is churning in dizzying circles. He can’t believe it. Can’t fathom that he’d let himself be that clumsy in battle, especially after so many years and so much training. He isn’t supposed to be so fucking weak , and he can’t believe that this is the way he’s going to go out, and so god-awfully soon . He’s going to leave Eijirou, even after all of the unspoken promises to stay with him for a long, long time. He wants to fucking scream.

He can’t believe it, and yet he’s got no choice but to.

His left hand is clenched in a fist so tight his nails are biting into his palm, his right very nearly doing the same to the back of Eijirou’s hand. When he realizes this, he yanks it away, and only then does he break out of his thoughts and realize the other has been trying to get his attention.

And as soon as he looks up, Katsuki wants to tear his own fucking heart out. Eijirou’s eyes, big and round and dumb and goddamn beautiful, are swimming with tears. The flaming irises he’s so used to are suddenly more like pools of liquid red, as much as Ei might be trying to hold back the tears. He can’t blink them away fast enough. He can’t hide them. Not from Katsuki.

Eijirou’s eyes speak the question he likely can’t verbalize. What are we going to do?

Katsuki doesn’t know.

Neither of them say a word for a small eternity after All Might has left. Instead, throwing all fucks to the wind about anything that has nothing to do with this crying fucker Katsuki loves so damn much, he peels the IV tape up and tugs the needle from his arm. He does the same with the little sensor monitoring his vitals that’s been attached to his finger before he turns, stands up, and gathers Eijirou into his arms.

Because he doesn’t know what to say. Words wouldn’t be apology enough. All he can do is hold the other and try and focus on nothing but the feeling of Eijirou pressed up against him, warm and solid and familiar.

Katsuki unsurprisingly doesn’t shed a single tear, but it isn’t any surprise either when Eijirou practically cries enough for both of them. He’s silent, keeping himself pressed up against the blonde while he can’t seem to slow the flow of tears.

“You gotta promise me something, Eijirou,” Katsuki begins after a while.

“No. Fuck no. You’re not saying goodbye to me so soon, Katsuki. I’m not promising shit.”

The blonde huffs, half amused and half annoyed. “I’m not asking you to say goodbye, dumbass. Just make me a fucking promise.”

“Tell me what it is and I’ll decide.”

“Don’t let this shit hold you back, alright? You can still be one of the best heroes out there, if not the best. And if you let me hold you back from that I’ll fucking kill you, got it?”

“That sounds too much like a goodbye, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta say it, alright?”

“...you know being number one or even number two or seventy-three doesn’t matter to me much anymore, right?” Finally Eijirou pulls back. His eyes are bloodshot, rimmed in pink again, but the tears have finally stopped. “‘Cause what matters to me is saving people, and doing just that with you by my side.”

Katsuki’s throat has gone dry at the sight of Eijirou’s stupid eyes, practically overflowing with nothing but love and adoration mixed with the grief he holds from All Might’s news. And it makes Katsuki’s chest hurt , the sight of all of that love he knows is just for him even though he knows, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not really. Eijirou’s heart of fucking gold is in a pair of scarred, bloodstained hands when it deserves a goddamn bulletproof trophy case.

“I know, Ei,” the blonde finally mumbles.

“Don’t forget that I love you no matter what, okay?”

“How the fuck could I? Those damn eyes of yours won’t fuckin’ let me.”

A smile pushes past the tear streaks on Eijirou’s face before he says, “You should sit. Get some more rest so you can go home sooner, yeah?”

As much as Katsuki doesn’t want to sit back on that brick of a bed, he humors his boyfriend by doing so anyway, crossing his legs once he’s there. Eijirou keeps hold of his hand.

“I’m gonna go get a nurse to replace your IV,” the redhead says.

“Please. I don’t need that shit anymore.”

“Except you still need a little more blood, so yes you do.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and flip off the loser in front of him, Katsuki mutters, “Fine…”

Katsuki expects the kiss—it would be uncharacteristic for Eijirou to leave without one—but he doesn’t expect it to come on his forehead rather than his lips. A big, steady hand brushes his hair aside long enough for Eijirou to press a lingering kiss to the center of his forehead before he leaves. Katsuki’s too stunned by it to have much of a reaction while the footsteps fade away behind him.

~

The shitty hospital staff decides to keep Katsuki another day when they find his red blood cell count is low, and give him two more pints of blood while they’re at it. And, of course, the damn blood comes from none other than Kirishima fucking Eijirou, who’s all too damn happy to be providing it.

Deku shows up the next day, too, right behind Eijirou when he returns from having the stupid blood taken out of him.

“Look who I ran into in the hall,” the redhead says with a smile and some crumbs on his cheeks from the cookie he holds.

“Hey, Kacchan.”

“Sup, nerd?”

Despite what’s intended as an insult, Deku smiles as he shuffles over to the couch. “Good to see you’re feeling well,” he says.

“...hardly,” the blonde mumbles, stuffing his arms across his chest and rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” The perkiness has already faded from the loser’s tone, and out of the corner of his eye he can see the slump of Eijirou’s shoulders where he sits in his chair, knowing all too well what Katsuki means.

“...guys?” Deku asks when no one has said anything.

“Guess there’s no reason not to tell him,” Eijirou says quietly. “Katsuki?”

“Whatever. Nothin’ really matters anymore, anyway.” He regrets it as soon as he says it, seeing the motion of Ei’s hands curling into fists.

Katsuki stays quiet and lets Eijirou be the one to fill Deku in. Somehow, hearing the words coming from Eijirou’s mouth, being said in his voice, makes the whole damn thing feel even more surreal than it already does. He feels like he’s in some sort of dream or shitty nightmare he can’t wake up from.

“And so… because of the radioactivity poison stuff…” Eijirou pauses to clear his throat. “He’s, um…”

“I’m gonna fucking die,” Katsuki spits out. “No way to treat it. No way to stop it. The doctor who came in earlier said I’ve got two years at best. So now you fucking know.”

Katsuki’s stomach clenches at the sight of Deku’s stupid, giant bug eyes widening in his direction. “Are you serious, Kacchan? You’re not just saying that to mess with me?”

Anger bubbles up. “Do I fucking look like I’m joking?” Katsuki shouts. “Does Eijirou look like the type of person who’s gonna be in on a fucking prank like that?! Do you think I thought it’d be funny to joke about this?” He’s leaning forward, the bandages straining painfully against his injuries, but he lets the pain ground him. In a mocking voice, he continues, “‘Hey Ei, you know what would be funny? If we told fucking Deku that I’m gonna die so we can make fun of the shitty look on his face!’ Really, fuckwad? You think I play games like that?! You think—“

“Katsuki, stop ,” Eijirou cuts in, his big hand wrapping tightly around the blonde’s wrist.

Katsuki’s eyes shift to Eijirou as he’s he’s about to tell the idiot to shut up and let him finish, but he stops short just seeing Ei’s face as it’s distorted with worry that’s on the verge of panic. His eyes are pointed straight at Katsuki’s torso.

Somehow it’s only then that the blonde feels it—the searing pain blooming across his left side, radiating an ache down through his hip, across his stomach and back, and all the way up into his shoulder. His jaw snaps shut and, slowly, he looks down at his torso, bare except for the bandages because he’d neglected to put the shitty hospital gown back on the last time they’d changed the bandages.

In an almost eerily similar way to the how the pain is spreading, blood seeps into the white of the gauze, staining it a bright red.

“...dammit,” he hisses out through his teeth. His free arm curls around his torso as the pain only grows—the first real pain he’s experienced since waking up.

“This is why we’ve been telling you to take it easy, man,” Eijirou says, strained.

“I’ll, um, I’ll go find a nurse,” Deku says quickly as he rises to his feet. In no time he’s out the door.

“Are… are you okay, Katsuki?”

“Don’t know…” the blonde hisses. “Shit suddenly hurts like a bitch .”

“You probably broke open your stitches,” Eijirou says. “You’ve been moving around way too much.”

“Fucking hell…”

Deku reappears with the nurse shortly after, who somehow convinces the cursing Katsuki to turn onto his side so she can cut his bandages and take a look at his wound. And it’s… pretty bad. The stitches have started to come undone, and blood has started to seep from between them. Katsuki keeps his face pressed into his elbow while he’s being stitched back up and while he can’t feel the needle poking into his skin from the numbing shit they slathered over him, he can feel the tug as the string is pulled through his skin. The nerves and muscles underneath affected by those damn tentacles protest that pull, causing him to grit his teeth. The only thing keeping him from hissing and groaning in pain like some old man is Eijirou’s warm fingers tugging through his hair over and over.

“I’ll increase your dosage of pain meds again,” the nurse says while the doctor who’s done the stitching is washing her hands. “You’ve really gotta stop moving so much, Bakugou, or this will just keep happening and your body won’t be able to heal properly.”

“And you’ve backtracked in your progress,” the doctor says. “Meaning you may need to stay another night.”

“...fucking great,” the blonde grumbles, finally on his back again with Eijirou’s help.

“We’ll see how you’re doing in an hour or so before I make a decision on that,” says the doctor before both of them exit the room.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” Deku’s small voice says from near the corner, bringing Katsuki’s attention back to his presence. He’d forgotten the nerd is even still there. “I’m the one who made you so upset. This is my fault.”

“Shut it, shitrag,” Katsuki mutters. “I’ve been pissed off all day. Don’t think you’re so special.”

“I… don’t. But I still do apologize for saying what I did, and you were right to say it was wrong of me to think you might be joking.”

“...yeah, fine, whatever, apology accepted.”

“Don’t worry about it, Midoriya,” Eijirou chimes in. “It’s over with now.”

Even though Dumb Hair is smiling, he’s clearly shaken. It’s not something anyone but Katsuki’s eyes can see, but it’s an underlying shadow in his eyes. And speaking of shadows , the fucker is beginning to develop dark circles. Not only that, but Katsuki can’t fully tell if it’s because of those circles or if he’s paler, too.

Fuck.

“Ei,” he says.

“Huh?” Those big, dumb, sunshine eyes fall upon him again. “What’s up?”

“When’s the last time you had a decent meal, anyway?”

“Hm… I had a bagel this morning,” Eijirou says, scratching his head.

“That’s hardly a decent fucking meal, dummy. Stop wasting all your time here and go get yourself something to eat. You look pale, and I’ll blow your dumb brain out your ear if you start getting sick, too.”

“But Katsu—“

“Shut up and do it. And I’m a big fucking boy, I can stay here by myself for an hour while you go take care of yourself .” Katsuki pulls his hand from Eijirou’s. “Plus, the stupid nerd is still here if you’re so goddamn worried about it.”

Eijirou relents in acquiescence surprisingly quickly. “Yeah, I guess you have a point,” he says softly. “I won’t be more than half an hour though, okay?”

“No, you’re gonna take as long as you need and stop worrying so much about me.”

That puts a frown on Eijirou’s face—a deeper one than what he’s been sporting for the past little while, but Katsuki doesn’t care enough to change his mind. Truthfully, while he’s over the fucking moon that Eijirou has stayed by his side for nearly every second he’s been in this shitty place, he would hate himself if the dummy’s health deteriorated just because of him .

Fucker’s gonna have to learn to live on his own soon, anyway…

“Alright, alright,” Ei says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Can I at least kiss you first?”

“I’d be pissed if you didn’t,” Katsuki says with less venom in his voice than before. And he would; he’s way too used to Eijirou leaving him with soft kisses before he leaves, and because he knows they’re numbered now, he’s going to take as damn many as he can get or so help him.

The two of them seem to forget Midoriya’s presence in the moment their lips meet, quiet and soft, slow and tender. It’s an unsaid thing that they want to be like this as much as possible now, and they both hate that they’ve taken it for granted for so long.

Eijirou leaves Katsuki with a hug as tight as he dares, too, tucking his head onto Katsuki’s left shoulder for a moment. His stupid hair tickles Katsuki’s neck and shoulder, but the scent that’s home to him washes over him and he can’t help returning the embrace, shutting his eyes as he does.

“Hey,” Katsuki says softly.

“Hm?”

“I love you, Shitty Hair.”

Eijirou’s grip tightens. “I love you, too, Blasty.”

“Now go eat and stop actin’ like this is the last time you’re ever gonna see me or ‘m gonna blow your face off.”

“Awh, but you like my face too much to do that, babe,” Ei jokes. “Plus, your quirk isn’t very effective against me ‘cause of mine.”

“Shut up,” the blonde grumbles.

Eijirou’s light laugh rumbles throughout his entire torso, and Katsuki lets himself soak in the sound of it, the feeling of it reverberating between them. It’s only a quiet laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, and somehow it grounds them both.

Eijirou leaves a soft, somewhat lingering kiss on the space where Katsuki’s neck curves into his shoulder before he finally stands up. His eyes are a little brighter when he does, and just seeing that makes breathing a little easier, knowing that he feels at least a little better… for now.

“Hey, you gonna stay for a bit, Midoriya?” Eijirou asks.

Deku looks up from his phone from the far end of the small sofa; clearly he’d been pretending to be preoccupied with it while the other two had their moment. Katsuki snickers internally; Deku may be annoying, but at least he’s a decent person. As much as he’d never want to admit it, Katsuki appreciates it.

“Sure,” Deku says. “Take your time, Kiri. Get some strength back.”

“Will do. Thanks, man.”

The sound of the door clicking shut leaves Katsuki alone with the nerd. It’s quiet for a bit save for the normal beeping and humming of hospital equipment. Katsuki rests his head back against the too-soft pillow behind his head and yawns.

Deku’s light laugh is what breaks the silence. Katsuki’s eyes cut in his direction. “What?” he mumbles tiredly.

“Hm, nothing. I just never thought Kirishima could be such a worry wart,” he explains.

“Hmph. Yeah.”

“Then again… I think that’s only when it comes to you. At least, more than anybody else.”

The blonde lifts his head, eyes narrowing in suspicion at the other. “The fuck you mean?”

“Just that of course he worries about his friends, too, and all the people he’s trying to save… but when it comes to you, it’s different. He seems… more willing to sacrifice his own health and such just to make sure that you’re okay.”

“Yeah. He’s a fucking dumbass for it, too.”

“Aw, Kacchan, I don’t think you fully believe that.” A stupid, knowing grin has taken over Deku’s face.

“And why the fuck not? How would you know?”

“By the way you act around him. It’s not something I’ve ever seen from you. Actually, to be honest… it’s not the kind of thing I ever thought I would see from you.” Deku shrugs.

“What? You thought I couldn’t fuckin’ fall in love?” Katsuki’s eyes narrow again, though he sounds more defensive than he feels; like he fucking cares what Deku thinks.

“No, it’s not that!” the nerd defends quickly. “I only thought you wouldn’t be so soft when you did, you know? But Kirishima has touched something inside of you, and I think it’s something nobody else would have been able to reach. He’s good for you, Kacchan. Really good. And you’re good for him. I kinda speak for all of us—those of us who are still in touch after high school—when I say I’m really happy for you guys.”

For Katsuki to huff sarcastically is sort of a knee-jerk reaction, but the one that comes after is some strange sort of warmth . Even if Deku really had believed that he could fall in love before, he hadn’t. It wasn’t that he’d thought about it a lot back then, but the older he got, the more he’d realized that even if he could find someone to have those sort of feelings for, he was absolutely certain that he wasn’t the type of person anyone could fall in love with . He was too abrasive. Too much like his own Quirk. Too unapproachable and arrogant for anyone to see him that way, much less goddamn Eijirou who was probably his polar opposite—friendly, open, bright as the fucking sun.

And that’s why he knew he’d been fucked the second he realized—through Deku , of course—he was developing those shitty feelings that at the time were almost sickening. And it had felt like nothing short of a goddamn miracle when Eijirou, so stupidly casual, had let him know that he’d returned the feelings after Katsuki, too damn frustrated to keep hiding anymore, blurted out his own confession.

Deku sure as fuck isn’t wrong about one thing—Eijirou is good for him. At times, especially now , he’s almost too good. But him, being good for Eijirou? It’s hard, if not impossible, for him to see. Impossible even if Eijirou has told him he keeps him grounded on multiple occasions. It’s only because Katsuki can’t fucking stand to see Eijirou so down on himself about his Quirk and his abilities as a hero. And of all people, Eijirou listens to Katsuki, and Katsuki will stop at nothing to kick Ei’s ass into gear and force himself to see his own worth if he has to.

And… he doesn’t understand why, but he makes the little fucker happy. And that’s not something Eijirou ever deserves to have taken away from him...

“...thanks, I guess,” Katsuki says finally to Deku. His voice sounds rougher than normal, though, even to him. And it’s no surprise that the nerd notices.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, nerd. You’re fucking right, which makes it so much goddamn worse.” His hands curl into fists around the sheets in front of him.

“...huh?”

“‘Cause now I’ve been given a death sentence and I’m just fucking breaking his heart that I never even deserved in the first place.”

Katsuki doesn’t really have to look at Deku to know he’s frowning, but he does anyway. Sure enough, those big baby eyes are practically boring straight into him, filled with concern.

“Does that mean you’re not going to go through with it?” Deku asks eventually.

“Go through with what?”

Deku leans back, mild bewilderment crossing his features. “The… with getting married,” he says.

It’s Katsuki’s turn to look confused, but he leans forward instead of back. “With the what now ?!”

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s entire head swivels to see Deku now, his brows smashing together. “What the everloving fuck are you talking about?”

Mirroring him, Deku’s frown is even more confused now. “Kirishima said he was going to— oh…” Deku trails off and his eyes practically bug right out of his damn skull. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, almost fearful. “He never did, did he?”

“He never did what , fuckface?!” Instinct has Katsuki leaning forward, ready to fucking blow this asshole to fucking pieces , but the searing pain of the bandages digging into his side again has him gritting his teeth and settling for bunching up more of the sheets into his hands. Even if he blows those to ash, he can replace them. Deku, unfortunately, with his shitty Quirk, is an irreplaceable asset. (Still, he’d sure as fuck like to blow that damn broccoli hair off his goddamn head.)

“Oh crap,” Deku mumbles, scratching nervously at his head with both hands. “I’ve really freaking screwed up…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Katsuki growls. “ What the hell is this shit about getting married?!”

“Damn…” Deku mumbles, shaking his head. “I guess I have no choice but to tell you now, huh?”

“No shit?!” Katsuki’s heart is thudding a mile a minute, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s glad that they no longer saw any need to keep the stupid vital monitor hooked to him or Deku would know just how freaked out he’s getting.

“Well… um, where do I begin?” The loser seems to ask himself more than he’s asking the blonde, but Katsuki answers anyway.

“At the beginning?” he hisses. “Just fucking tell me, dammit!”

“Okay, okay!” Deku holds his hands up in surrender. “Kirishima… he was gonna ask you to marry him, Kacchan. He planned to do it on the 17th, and he’d been planning it for weeks. And he kept coming to several of us to figure out what to say to you and all that. He had it all planned out and everything, but then you got hurt. While you were still unconscious I asked him if he was gonna postpone doing it since you’d probably still be here, and he said that even though he couldn’t do it the way he originally wanted to, he still planned on going through with it since he was sure you’d be awake by then. And you were, obviously, but… I guess he never actually did go through with it. He never told me or any of us I think, though, which is… why we’re having this conversation, I guess.”

Deku’s eyes shift to the ground as he finishes, and there’s some semblance of shame in his demeanor. But Katsuki can’t focus on that, all he can think of is stupid Eijirou .

“So what, he just wasn’t gonna fucking tell me, ever?” he mutters. It’s more of a rhetorical question, more to himself or in general than directly to Deku. But leave the nerd to answer anyway.

“I don’t know, Kacchan. I haven’t heard anything about it since I asked if he was still planning on asking you. I-I guess I just assumed he did it and you guys would wait to tell everyone and celebrate until you got to go home…”

So many questions are flying through Katsuki’s mind that he can’t really keep track of them all. For the first time, somehow, since waking up, his head is beginning to pound. His stomach is in a knot. And he has no idea what the fuck to say.

“I’m sorry I ruined it, Kacchan, really,” Deku says, his voice coated with guilt. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything at all and just waited until I knew for sure. Actually… I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. I just thought… maybe you would change your answer. After knowing what you know, I mean, about your injuries.”

Katsuki wishes he would just shut the fuck up so he can think , but he can’t even pry his own clenched teeth apart to tell him to. The only think he knows for fucking sure is that he really wishes he hadn’t sent Eijirou to eat. His throat is starting to burn, and the anger, the frustration, the absolute fucking shock of this whole thing is making him dizzy.

“Do you maybe want me to go get him?” Deku offers after it’s been quiet for a few moments, the tension between them thick. “So… you guys can talk it out?”

Katsuki manages a dry, scratchy swallow. “No,” he says flatly. “He needs to fucking eat. He’ll probably be back soon, anyway.”

“...right.”

Deku doesn’t leave, and for some reason Katsuki doesn’t even expect him to. Fucker probably wants to stay so he can whine more apologies to Eijirou, as he fucking should . Katsuki isn’t the one the damn dweeb should be apologizing to, it’s Ei , for ruining his fucking ‘secret’ or whatever.

And the whole time they’re waiting for Eijirou to get back, Katsuki feels like he’s on the verge of fucking hurling.

~

Katsuki is pissed when Eijirou returns to the room, and Midoriya looks nothing short of remorseful.

“Everything okay, guys?” he asks cautiously as he slips into the room. Both of their heads snap up; Midoriya is just opening his mouth to speak when Katsuki beats him to it.

“No,” he growls. “It’s fucking not .”

Frowning, Eijirou moves slowly into the room. “What happ—“

“I’m sorry, Kirishima,” Midoriya says, cutting him off. “Really, truly, seriously sorry.”

“Huh? For what?”

Midoriya is uneasy as he speaks; almost nervous. “I… I accidentally let it spill that you… were gonna ask Kacchan to marry you,” he says quietly.

In the exact same moment Eijirou’s eyes move to the blonde, he feels as though he’s taken a blow straight to the stomach. Katsuki’s arms are crossed, his jaw set, and his eyes boring directly into Ei’s own. He says nothing, though.

Midoriya’s standing up brings Eijirou’s attention back to him; he moves around the bed and faces the redhead head on before bowing deeply, causing Ei to back up a step in surprise. “I’m really, really sorry, Kirishima,” he says again. “I truly didn’t mean to let it slip. I wrongly assumed you had already asked him and I shouldn’t have. I understand if this is unforgivable.”

“Hey, whoa, okay,” Ei says quickly, trying his best to sort through the sudden flurry of thoughts and emotions swarming through him. “Stand up, man. I’m not… I’m not mad, okay? I’m just really, really super confused. How—how did it happen?”

“We were just talking, and I-I asked Kacchan if… if he wasn’t going to go through with marrying you anymore because of his, um, condition… and that’s when I realized…” Midoriya’s big eyes are swimming, and Ei can practically feel waves of guilt radiating off of him.

But Eijirou can’t be mad. The only sure thing he feels is his heart dropping into his stomach, and not because of Midoriya’s slip up—because of the way Katsuki is still staring holes him without having said a single word since telling him things weren’t okay.

“Dude, calm down, alright?” he says, forcing a smile and placing a hand on Midoriya’s stiff shoulder. “I’m not mad. Seriously. You don’t have to be so upset about it. If anything it’s my fault for not telling you I never asked him, especially after I said I was going to. Alright?”

After a second’s hesitation, Midoriya provides a slight nod. “I still feel terrible, though. I-I feel like I’ve ruined this for you…”

“Nah, man,” Ei tells him, smile widening. “The question’s important, and the surprise is definitely an added bonus, but what’s more important is the answer and what comes after. And it’s not like I can’t still ask him.”

Eijirou knows the second Midoriya buys his smile because he relaxes a bit. “I suppose you’re right. Just… let me know if I can make it up to you, okay?”

“You won’t have to,” Eijirou assures him. “I think that right now we need some time to talk, though.”

“Absolutely. Thank you… for your forgiveness.”

Eijirou shrugs him off. After another couple of apologies to Katsuki (who all but ignores him), Midoriya heads out, leaving Eijirou alone with his boyfriend once more, a knot in his stomach and an elephant in the room. With a deep, quiet breath, he faces that hard red stare he loves so much.

“So… now you know,” he says lightly, shrugging his left shoulder a bit.

“Through fucking Deku .”

“I know. I’m sorry about that, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s eyes follow him around the room until he sits in his chair before he speaks. When he does, his voice is low but full of venom. “So you just weren’t gonna tell me you wanna get married? What the fuck, Ei?”

“I was!” Eijirou tells him quickly. “I swear. I was going to ask you. Yesterday. It was always the plan to ask you yesterday, even before you got hurt. But then All Might showed up and told us about… you know… and my mind was elsewhere and I just couldn’t find it in myself to do it after that…” His eyes pull away from Katsuki’s.

“...right. ‘Cause now I’m fucking dying.”

And just like that his gaze snaps right back onto the other; he can taste bile in the back of his throat at those words alone. “ No, Katsuki, that’s not why. It just didn’t feel like the right time anymore.”

The blonde huffs, his head resting back against his pillow while his arms visibly tighten over his chest. “Yeah. That’s a good thing, I guess.”

“What? Why ?”

“Because I am dying, so you shouldn’t even waste your damn time getting married to me. ‘S better you didn’t even ask.”

Surprisingly, instead of some sort of despair as expected, anger is what surfaces and Eijirou sits forward, clamping his hands onto the arms of the chair. “Seriously, Katsuki? That’s your reason? If anything, that’s more of a reason to do it!” he half-shouts.

“How?!”

“The hell do you mean?!” he spits. “Because I love you more than anything and I wanna celebrate that with you, especially because of what happened, man! Especially since I only have so much time left with you!” Nothing can stop his voice from shaking, and nothing can stop Katsuki from hearing it. And Eijirou hates it. Hates feeling so fucking weak and helpless! Hates, detests, despises that he can’t help Katsuki—that he can’t fucking save him!

That shaking—as thickness has grown in his throat and tears are threatening at the corners of his eyes—has the blonde relenting. But it’s not in a good way. It’s not in the way Eijirou wants , which is for him to come to his damn senses and realize that all Eijirou wants to do in marrying him is love him.

And Katsuki won’t even let him do that.

“‘S only gonna fucking hurt you, Eijirou,” he says bitterly. “And I’ve been trying my goddamn hardest not to do that to you, even though I’ve already failed.”

The redhead blinks at the blonde for a moment, wrapping his head around that. Hurt him? Katsuki thinks he has hurt him?

“No, you dumbass, you haven’t hurt me. Ever. What fucking kills me is what that damn villain did to you!”

Katsuki’s next sentence should be angry. It should be fucking pissed , and the fact that it isn’t, the fact that he sounds so little like himself is what scares Eijirou more than anything. “Me too, ‘cause I was too fucking weak to kill her first, so now I’m gonna end up leaving you alone.”

Eijirou’s ears are ringing, he’s so upset. So mad and scared and desperate . He almost wants to throw up.

“...so that’s it?” he asks, borrowing one of Katsuki’s habits of talking through his teeth. “You’re not even gonna let me ask properly before you say no?”

The blonde’s throat bobs. “Yeah,” he says, “guess that is it.”

Eijirou sits there for a minute longer, staring, heart pounding, eyes stinging and fists clenched with anger. When Katsuki still doesn’t look at him, doesn’t say anything more, all he can do not to keep yelling and making things worse is stand up, go back around the bed, and stride right to the door.

“‘S good to know how you feel,” he says before yanking it open and walking out.

~

Eijirou doesn’t go far. It’s as if as soon as the door practically slams shut behind him, his anger dissipates by half. He gets as far as the bathroom just down the hall before he begins pacing. His stomach is churning and his thoughts feel as if a hurricane has blown through them, leaving them in barely decipherable shambles. And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry. Seriously doesn’t wanna feel that weak.

But it’s hard. So hard. In what seems like a matter of moments, it feels like life is trying to rip everything he knows away from him. And he hates being so selfish about it; Katsuki is the one who’s suffering.

Because I couldn’t protect him , he thinks. Because I chose the wrong thing to do. Deku and the others would have been fine getting those people to safety without me… I should’ve stayed with Katsuki… I should have protected him…

Even if it meant he was the one to get hurt. Even if it meant he was the one in that bed dealing with a death sentence. If it meant Katsuki would survive, he didn’t care. Katsuki’s a better hero than him by far as it is; stronger, even if he’s not all that great with people. His villain subjugation count is higher than Eijirou’s. The world needs him more. Not Red Riot.

And now not only is Eijirou going to lose the thing, the person he loves more than absolutely everything, the one person who actually managed to get through to him every single time he doubted himself, the person who even still managed to put a smile on his face unlike any other and make him over the flipping moon happy to just be alive and next to him … but the world is going to lose one of its greatest heroes.

“Whatever. Nothin’ really matters anymore, anyway.”

Eijirou sinks into a nearby chair, his head falling into his hands and his fingers tangling into the hair hanging over his forehead, tugging just enough for it to be painful. He stays there a while, just trying to breathe. To calm his heartbeat. Because he can’t go back to Katsuki looking like the wreck he is. The last thing the blonde needs is to be worrying about him feeling like absolute shit, too.

…

In the end only about ten minutes have passed when Eijirou returns. On the chance Katsuki is still mad (which, knowing him, he is), he taps his knuckles against the wood. No response. Slowly he pushes the door open and peeks in to see Katsuki standing up, his hand wrapped around the pole that holds the IV bags so tight his knuckles are white, and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?” he says, quickly moving into the room, everything that has nothing to do with the way the blonde is slightly hunched over in pain temporarily forgotten. “Where are you going?” Automatically he reaches for the other, wrapping a gentle hand around his forearm to try and steady him.

“To fuckin’ find you ,” Katsuki grumbles.

“‘Kay well I’m right here. You need to sit back down, man.”

“Fucking wait,” Katsuki mumbles, using his free hand to grab Eijirou’s shoulder before he can start coaxing him back to the bed.

“What? Why’d you try to get up by yourself?” Ei asks.

“‘Cause I’m not a fucking baby.”

“I know, but—“

“And because you fucking left and I wasn’t about to let you storm out of here all upset ‘cause of me.” He lets out a long breath before his eyes—that Eijirou can’t help but notice are bloodshot and absolutely exhausted —meet the redhead’s.

“Look, Ei…” he begins slowly. “‘M sorry, alright? Don’t start thinking I said all that shit ‘cause I don’t love you, got it? Because I fucking do.”

The stupid emotion bubbles up in Ei’s throat again, and it takes a great effort just to swallow around it and try to make his voice sound normal. “I know, Katsuki.” And he does. And for some reason, suddenly, that’s all that really matters, at least in that moment.

“C’mere, you idiot,” Katsuki mutters, freeing his left hand to slide his arms around the redhead’s shoulders. Easily, but wary of his injuries, Ei returns the embrace, tucking his face into the crook of Katsuki’s neck the same way Katsuki does to him. Neither of them have any desire to let go for a long, long while.

~

The doctors let Katsuki go home the next day, and by the time they’ve finished all the paperwork and gone over care instructions for his injuries, Eijirou is practically on the verge of collapsing where he stands he’s so exhausted. It doesn’t help, of course, that his own damn brain wouldn’t shut up the whole damn night no matter how hard he tried to sleep.

He couldn’t get the sight of Katsuki’s face out of his head—the sight of it twisted up in a way that Eijirou had never seen before. He wasn’t angry. Wasn’t frustrated or annoyed. He’d been sad , and desperate and sorry. Guilty. The only way he could fend off the image was to keep his tired eyes open and looking right at Katsuki as he slept soundly just a few feet away.

He sat up most of the night doing just so, his chin resting on his knee with his arms folded over his stomach. He was exhausted , but he knew no matter how hard he tried, his brain wouldn’t let him sleep. He was too worked up, and as pathetic as it felt, it was too hard sleeping without Katsuki right next to him.

There had come a point where he couldn’t sit there in silence any longer, so he’d gotten up with the intention of merely wandering the halls for a bit, hoping to tire himself out enough to finally crash, but he had to have been louder than he thought as he moved toward the door because a voice had carried behind him.

“Where you going?” a sleepy Katsuki had mumbled. Upon turning around Eijirou had found him to be sitting halfway up, staring at him through half open, sleep-riddled eyes.

“Um… just to walk,” he said quietly. “Go back to sleep. You gotta rest.”

But of course, Katsuki hadn’t obeyed. Instead he’d sat up all the way, grimacing at the pain in his side from the movement, and waved his hand lazily in beckoning. “Get back here, Weird Hair,” he mumbled.

And how the hell could Ei say no? He shuffled back to Katsuki’s bedside and let the blonde take his hand.

“You can’t sleep again, can you?” he’d sighed.

“I’m okay,” was all Eijirou had said.

“Fuck,” Katsuki said. “‘N I can’t even help you sleep ‘cause this shitty bed is too small…”

“You don’t gotta do that anyway, Katsuki,” Ei said, somehow managing a smile.

“Fuck that…” Katsuki said around a yawn. “I’ll at least stay up with you…”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said you gotta rest, babe. You do. I’ll fall asleep eventually, so you just go back to sleep so your injuries can heal faster, ‘kay?”

“Ei…”

“Seriously.”

“...come here, you idiot,” grumbled the blonde, reaching up for the redhead’s face with his free hand. Eijirou leaned down just enough to let him place a hand—gentle, something Bakugou wasn’t very often—on his cheek. “Fucking hell… you’re startin’ to get gross dark circles…” His thumb brushed lightly— so lightly that Eijirou barely felt it—beneath the redhead’s left eye.

“They’ll go away,” Eijirou assured him.

Letting out a long breath, Katsuki’s hand slipped from his cheek as his forehead fell against Ei’s chest. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get home,” he sighed.

“Me either,” Ei said. This time his smile had been genuine as he took the liberty to comb his fingers through that thick blonde hair that was never tame.

It was in the next moment that Eijirou knew Katsuki was completely exhausted and still half asleep, because his arms moved slowly around the redhead’s waist, pulling him closer and, as he yawned again, turned his head to press his ear right up against Eijirou’s chest. Instantly, Ei felt his heart stutter and pick up speed, his cheeks warming at the sight of the one he loved so much suddenly being so… vulnerable. So open and affectionate in such a tender way that was so unlike his usual expression.

“...your heart sounds like a freakin’ jackhammer,” Katsuki muttered.

Eijirou could only let out a light laugh. “How come you’re not this affectionate all the time?” he teased.

“‘M not being affectionate. ‘M just using you as a pillow.”

“So you’re gonna sleep sitting up?”

“Sure, if it means you stay.”

It was as if all of Eijirou’s bones turned to jelly in that moment; his insides felt like they were liquefying. He knelt just enough to lower himself closer to Katsuki and nuzzled his face into that untamed blonde hair. He inhaled slowly, deeply, trying to find a trace of Katsuki’s scent amid the weird hospital smells that clung to him and the crappy shampoo they had him use.

“I’ll always stay with you, Katsuki,” he said softly. “Always.”

Truth be told, Eijirou wasn’t even sure Katsuki had heard him—he truly had fallen asleep right there against him, his arms having gone limp around the redhead’s waist and a good portion of his weight relying on the solid body in front of him to keep him held up.

“...aw jeez, man,” Eijirou mumbled quietly, affectionately. “And you say I’m the dumb one…”

He didn’t really want to let Katsuki go; he was finally warm and it felt nice to just have him resting right up against him, breathing slowly, still vulnerable but trusting enough to fall asleep like that right there. Still, he knew that it would only give the blonde a stiff neck and make for a grumpy Katsuki in the morning, so slowly and as gently as he could, Eijirou leaned forward, one arm around the blonde’s shoulders and the opposite hand holding his head. He carefully laid Katsuki back against his pillows; the blonde’s eyes peeked open again just as Ei was starting to stand back up and a hand reached up and snatched the front of his shirt, preventing him from moving too far.

“What’s up, babe?” he murmured.

“Don’t fuckin’ leave,” he mumbled, barely awake.

“Alright, alright,” Ei chuckled. “Just go to sleep already.”

Sleep Katsuki had; while Eijirou ended up remaining awake through to sunrise, Katsuki hadn’t opened his eyes again until nearly ten the next morning. With nothing else to do, the redhead sat at his side and watched over him, hoping that he might get at least some sleep, but to no avail. He’d been completely lost in thought, staring blankly up at the ceiling when Katsuki awoke, and he hadn’t even been aware of it until his name was being called.

“Ei. Hey, Eijirou!”

“Huh?” he’d blurted, eyes tiredly finding Katsuki’s.

The blonde just shook his head. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

Eijirou had tiredly shook his head but still made himself smile at the blonde. Katsuki had just sighed in disapproval, though they hadn’t had much time to say anything else because one of the nurses had come in and let them know Katsuki would be released soon, after all the discharge paperwork and such was settled.

Ever since, Eijirou’s head has been in a fog. The day seems to go by in a slow blur until finally, finally the doctor walks into the room where they’re all ready to go save for the folder of paperwork they’re supposed to take home and whatever else the doctor might say. He hands Eijirou the folder as he speaks, though the words don’t really register in the redhead’s mind until it seems like he’s reached the end.

Eijirou’s in the middle of yawning when the doctor asks, “Any last questions before you go?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “I got a couple.” He’s not looking at the doctor, but somewhere off to the left. His voice is gruff, his knuckles white as his hand is wrapped so tightly around the handle of the bag he insisted upon carrying, and it catches Ei’s attention immediately, waking him up just a little more. “This… radioactive shit. Is it contagious?”

“As far as we can tell from the tests we’ve been conducting for the past week, no, it’s not. It’s as though the radioactive particles are tailored to your DNA. It’s the same for the other victims we’ve been studying. It seems once the chemical has left the tentacles of that villain, it changes to specifically target its victims cells and will die quickly if separated from the victim.”

Katsuki’s nodding slowly, and though there’s at least a slight speck of relief in Eijirou’s stomach, the blonde doesn’t relax any at that answer.

“Good.”

“What else can I answer?”

That is when Katsuki finally meets the doctor’s eyes. “When my injuries are healed, can I still do hero work?”

That wakes Eijirou up. Fear spikes through him; somehow whether or not Katsuki would even be able to continue his career as a hero in the time he’s got left didn’t even cross the redhead’s mind, and suddenly it feels like so much more is on the line. And that’s terrifying ; he’s already so overwhelmed, so scared of losing the one he loves, and now he might not even be able to continue doing what he does best and living the life he’d worked so hard for so long to live…

The answer is in the way the doctor’s face falls a bit, how his eyes fall needlessly to his clipboard as he adjusts his glasses. “Even after your injuries heal, we would have to advise against any high impact physical activity.” His eyes lift again. “And with a Quirk like yours, it may only put that much more strain on your body than it usually would. We know very little about what will actually happen with the poison inside of you, and putting such strain on yourself puts you at a fairly high risk of accelerating its spread.”

“So, no. Got it,” Katsuki quips through his teeth.

“In the end, how you choose to live out the rest of your life is entirely up to you. Again, I have to advise against continuing your work as a hero, but I can’t stop you from doing that if it’s what you wish to do. Just remember the risks.”

“...yeah.”

The doctor straightens up. “Any more questions?”

The two shake their heads, and the doctor dismisses them. Eijirou makes sure to call a thank you after him, and it’s only seconds later that they’re finally on their way. The elevator doors have only just slid shut when Katsuki holds out his hand to the redhead.

“Keys,” he says.

“Huh?”

“No fucking way you’re driving. You’re too tired.”

“But Katsuki, you’re still hurt and they said you shouldn’t—“

“Shouldn’t isn’t the same as don’t. Last thing we need is for you to fall asleep behind the wheel and make this shit worse.”

Eijirou hesitates, swallowing. Katsuki looks okay; he isn’t really hunched over the way he’d been last night, but even he looks tired, stiff. They’ve given him pain meds to take home and use as needed, but he’s been off his IV for a few hours now, and if he’s in pain…

“C’mon, Dumb Hair. Keys.”

Gingerly, the redhead gives up the keys to his boyfriend as he elevator comes to a stop. As they’re headed for the car, Katsuki pulls ahead of him, and he can’t tell if he’s starting to become delusional from lack of sleep or if it’s really there, but Katsuki’s… cold. Shut off. And that isn’t normal for him—not around Ei.

“Katsuki?” he finds himself asking as they toss the few belongings they’re carrying in the back seat.

“Hm?” grunts the blonde.

“...are you mad at me?”

Katsuki stops short, his eyes finding the other’s. “The fuck makes you think that?”

Eijirou rolls a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “‘M just gettin’ that feeling,” he says.

“No, idiot. I’m not mad at you.” He tugs open the driver’s side door and slides in. Quickly, Eijirou follows his lead.

“Then… why are you upset?”

With almost too much force, Katsuki twists the key and the car fires to life. “I’m pissed at myself, Eijirou.”

“Is it ‘cause you can’t do hero work anymore?”

“Yeah. That’s part of it.”

While Katsuki’s paying attention to the road, Eijirou can’t stop looking at him, watching him, seeing the way his shoulders are stiff and his jaw is squared, and the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly. He doesn’t know what to say to make Katsuki feel better, and his tired mind simply goes back to thinking of the devastation he feels—the devastation they both feel, and the rest of the ride is without conversation.

Once they’re back in the parking lot of their apartment complex and Katsuki’s cut the engine, his door already open, Eijirou doesn’t really move. His eyes, droopy from so much emotion and lack of sleep, are unfocused as he looks down at his knees.

“You comin’?” Katsuki asks. When he doesn’t respond, he says, “Ei?”

“...can I ask you something, Katsuki?”

“Can it wait ‘til we get upstairs?”

Finally the redhead looks up. “No. I don’t think so.”

“‘Kay, then what?”

“There’s um…” Ei rubs his forehead tiredly as he speaks, but the strain in his voice is more than enough to get the blonde to shut his door and give him his full attention. “There’s something you said yesterday that’s been bothering me,” he says.

Fuck , Katsuki’s thinks instinctively.

“What?” he asks cautiously.

“It was when Midoriya was visiting, right before we told him what All Might told us. Well, before I told him.” Those big round eyes lift to meet Katsuki’s again, and they’re so liquid , so open and honest and vulnerable that it tears at Katsuki’s goddamn heart more painfully than the damn gaping hole in his side.

“‘Kay…” he says slowly, prompting Ei to continue.

“And between that and you saying you don’t… you don’t wanna get married…” His voice cracks, and try as he might Ei can’t cover it up by clearing his throat. Katsuki’s chest aches . So bad.

“What are you getting at, Ei?” he mumbles.

“I was just wondering…” His hand drops into his lap. “Do you really think that, Katsuki? That nothing matters anymore?”

And Katsuki swears he can physically feel his damn heart actually fucking breaking . He looks away, down at the logo in the center of the steering wheel. “How the hell can I not? I’m dying, aren’t I?” he grits out, suddenly feeling stupidly hot again, as though drawing attention to the radioactive poison shit inside him makes it flare up. He can feel it down to his fingertips now, as though radiating right from his center.

But that’s fucking nothing compared to the agony he feels for hurting Eijirou.

It’s silent a moment before the redhead speaks again.

Finally, he asks, “...even me?”

Katsuki freezes. He can’t help looking back up at the other, at Eijirou, at the one thing he loves more than absolutely anything else, and feeling like a complete piece of shit. The redhead looks… dejected, at best. His shoulders are slumped, his eyes glossy over the exhaustion they hold. He looks a freaking wreck , and it’s all Katsuki’s goddamn fault.

“No.” The word is small. Weak. Even his own voice sounds off to him.

“No, I don’t matter anymore?” Eijirou asks quietly.

A pang stabs Katsuki right in the ribs. “No. Not you. You do matter, Eijirou. You matter so fucking much to me, Stupid Hair. So much that I can’t even fucking stand it because I love you so much it hurts ,” he blurts out.

“Katsuki…”

“It’s a good kind of hurt, though,” he goes on without relent. “The fucking best kind. And all I wanted was to make you as goddamn happy as I could because, shit, you deserve it more than literally anyone .” Even Katsuki can hear the desperation seeping into his tone, but he doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t care enough to. He wants Eijirou to know how he feels, even if it means sounding like a pathetic mess. “But all I ended up doing is fucking hurting you like some kind of monster. Even though I never deserved you in the first place, I’m gonna fucking end up leaving you.

“So… no, Ei. You matter. You’re… the only damn thing that does anymore.”

Eijirou draws in a deep breath—one that visibly expands his shoulders and lifts his chest. His eyes are glossy, on the verge of tears; Katsuki doesn’t know if he can handle more damn tears. He’s never been equipped to deal with someone crying; in the past when it was Deku, he’d just smack the idiot on the head and tell him to stop being a damn baby. But this is different. It’s Eijirou . He fucking loves Eijirou—and ‘love’ only scratches the surface of the depths of his affection for this Dumb Haired idiot. How the fuck is he supposed to handle even more tears coming from him, and not fuck it all up more than he already has?

“Can you tell me one thing, then? And honestly. I don’t want any bullshit,” Ei says once he’s let the breath out.

Admittedly, Katsuki hesitates. But he can’t say no to those eyes. “...yeah.”

“If you weren’t injured… or if you weren’t poisoned and stuff… and I had asked, would you still have said no to me when I asked you to marry me?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question, Eijirou.” It’s what Katsuki wants to say, but he can’t. His own stupid breath has caught in his throat, some sort of lump lodged there along with it to prevent him from speaking. He doesn’t even want to answer the damn question anyway because of fucking course he would have said yes. He would’ve said yes in a freaking heartbeat, lifted this beautiful idiot off the ground and spun him in a damn circle like some kind of cheesy romance movie or whatever and kissed him like his goddamn life depended on it.

But he’s too damn weak to say that. Too selfish… or something. Because he fucking can’t pick Eijirou up like that—not right now, not with these injuries—and he can’t yank his stupid head forward to kiss him the way he wants to—he so wants to—without it feeling wrong. Tainted. Because he can’t say yes, knowing that in a short two years he won’t be around to do it anymore. And telling Eijirou that he probably would’ve shouted his yes to the heavens is only going to hurt him that much more, given the circumstances.

All he can do is hold gazes with the other and let the silence speak for itself.

It doesn’t take long for Eijirou to get it, and somehow the fucker smiles. It’s a broken smile, though, one that Katsuki had hoped never to see struggle to form across that stunning face of his. He knows. Boy, does he fucking know. And the tears are only seconds away.

“I’m glad that you would have,” Eijirou says as the first tear escapes down his left cheek. “Now I just wish I had protected you better so we could.”

“...c’mere, Ei,” he murmurs, leaning across the center console of the car to gather the redhead into his arms and hold him as close as he possibly can in such a cramped space that forces them into an awkward position. He’s not surprised to feel Eijirou freaking shaking when he hugs him, but the expectancy doesn’t let it hurt any less.

Eijirou’s mindful of Katsuki’s injuries when he hugs back, wrapping his left arm around the other while his right hand only clings almost desperately to his shoulder. As he usually is, the redhead is warm, and Katsuki can feel his tears dripping onto his own skin when the other has tucked his head down onto his shoulder.

As they sit there for a few minutes, Katsuki’s thumb rubbing small circles into the back of Eijirou’s neck the way he knows it calms him, he can’t help but feel so damn selfish. He knows that if he wasn’t, if it wasn’t that all he wants is to spend the rest of his life—however long that may be now—with Eijirou (because it really, truly does feel as though he’s the only thing that matters anymore), he would do more than just say no to marrying him. He’d back off from Eijirou’s life completely… move out of the apartment and go back to live with his parents or something while he just waits for the poison to kill him so Eijirou can find someone who would actually be able to keep the fucking promise to stay with him. He’d leave so Eijirou can work on healing before he’s suffers more pain than he already has.

But Katsuki can’t do that. He’s not strong enough—not nearly. It hurts too damn much just thinking about it. Feels hard to breathe, just trying to picture being without this idiot, especially while his body is deteriorating bit by tiny bit. And he can’t be sure that leaving would spare Ei any more pain, anyway.

In the end, though, selfishness on his part is the only reason he can’t find it within himself to let go of Eijirou’s big, warm hand.

“I’m sorry, Eijirou,” he murmurs.

“Don’t tell me that,” Eijirou says. “If you’re gonna tell me somethin’, tell me you love me, ‘kay? You don’t have anything you gotta apologize for.”

Despite the painful strain on his side from stretching and holding Eijirou so tight, Katsuki can only hold him tighter—closer. “I fucking do, Hair for Brains. I love you so fucking much you can’t even understand it.”

Finally, finally , Eijirou laughs. It’s small because he’s tired, but it’s genuine. “Except I think I can, ‘cause I love you more.”

“You’re a fucking idiot ‘cause that can’t even be possible.”

As he lifts his head, Eijirou’s chuckling lightly again, and though his eyes don’t hide that he’s absolutely wiped out, red-rimmed and still shiny with tears, he looks worlds happier than he did a few minutes ago.

“I think it is, Katsuki,” he says.

“What, you need me to fuckin’ prove it to you or something?”

“Hm… maybe after I take a nap,” the redhead says.

Katsuki relents, giving up his fight quickly. “Yeah. You look like you’re gonna pass out right here,” he mutters. “C’mon.”

He starts to turn around and makes it all the way to pulling on the door handle to get out, but a warm hand meets his cheek and gently coaxes his head back the other way. He has little time to react before Eijirou’s leaning forward and pressing his lips gently to his own, but as he usually does, he finds it to be so easy to just melt into those buttery lips, to press himself closer and wrap Eijirou in his arms again. One goes around the redhead’s waist while the other lifts and gently brushes a few stray strands of his hair back behind his ear. He tangles his hand in that silky red mane of Eijirou’s, allowing him to deepen the kiss even further.

For a moment, their troubles are forgotten as, like they have so many times before, they allow themselves to get lost in each other. It’s a few minutes of much-needed bliss before they inevitably pull apart, hearts elevated and breathing a bit labored.

“I really, seriously love you, Katsuki,” breathes the redhead.

“You said that already,” the blonde reminds him.

“I know, man, but I can’t say it enough.”

“You’re way overtired.”

“I’m serious!”

“I know, Dumb Hair. Now let’s go the fuck upstairs so you can get some damn sleep.”

Katsuki doesn’t let Eijirou carry any of the luggage upstairs despite his protests. Hell, Katsuki wouldn’t even let Ei carry himself up the damn stairs if he could help it, but his shitty injuries make it difficult to lug two measly bags up two flights of stairs, let alone a five-foot-eleven muscular redhead.

“We should check your bandages before we go…” Eijirou is mumbling as he’s dragging his feet inside.

“Fuck that,” Katsuki mutters. He tosses the bags on the couch once inside and takes the redhead’s hand to practically drag him back toward the bedroom.

“But Katsuki, they said—“

“They’re fuckin’ fine, Ei,” the blonde insists.

It’s clear Eijirou is too damn tired to argue further because he says nothing more as he’s led into the bedroom. As if magnetized to it, Eijirou practically flings himself onto the bed, not even bothering to tuck himself into the blankets. He pulls his pillow toward him, stuffs it under his head, and lazily waves at the blonde.

“C’mon, babe, you’re s’posed t’ help me sleep…” he mumbles.

“You’re such a fucking loser,” Katsuki mutters as he lowers himself onto the bed beside the redhead—gingerly, entirely aware of his throbbing injuries.

“Man, you’re mean . How come I love such a meanie ?” Ei says with eyes barely cracked open.

“‘Cause I’m fucking awesome,” Katsuki drawls.

Ei smiles a bit. “Truth.”

“Now get your cute ass over here, Weird Hair.”

“Man, I can’t even say anything about you insulting my hair since you called me cute,” Ei says through a wider grin as he maneuvers toward the blonde.

“Hmph. I called your ass cute,” Katsuki corrects.

“Hmmm… I’ll still take it.”

Gently, Eijirou practically curls himself around Katsuki’s right side, yawning in the process as his head finds a comfortable spot on the other’s shoulder. As he usually does on the nights he helps Ei fall asleep, Katsuki curls an arm around him and tangles a hand through his hair. And fuck , he’s missed this—the warmth of this beautiful idiot pressed against him, the silky texture of his hair between his fingers, the quiet, barely audible sound of his soft breathing.

“Sure you’re okay, Katsuki?” Eijirou mumbles.

“How many damn times are you gonna ask me that, Dumb Hair? Just go to sleep.”

“...can’t sleep ‘less I know you’re good, man.”

“Jesus fuck. Yes , I’m fine. Now shut up before I knock your damn brains out and make you sleep.”

Ei’s shoulders shake gently with his laughter. Despite his annoyed huff, Katsuki’s smiling a bit—a genuine one for the first time in days, and one that only Eijirou has ever seen. He continues tugging his hand lightly through the few tangles in Eijirou’s hair, noticing the black roots starting to show through again. He makes a mental note to check if they’ve still got bleach and dye lying around, knowing the look of irritation the redhead will have when he sees the roots. It’s a fucking adorable pout, but he always says the same thing— “How can I be Red Riot without my red hair?”

And Katsuki always responds the same way. “Your damn hair color doesn’t make you Red Riot, dumbass.”

And then Eijirou says something about upkeeping his image, to which Katsuki just rolls his eyes at before helping him with the stupid dye.

Katsuki can’t help but think he’s never been so damn happy to be home. He’d only been gone a week, but this bed is so much more comfortable, the quiet around him so much more relaxing than the shitty fucking hospital room he’d been held hostage in. And best of all he’s finally, finally next to Eijirou again, who’s already out cold. Before Katsuki knows it, he himself is drifting off to the most restful sleep he’s had in days…

Chapter Text

Over the next several nights, pain has a habit of waking Katsuki in the middle of his slumber, and as a result, Eijirou loses sleep too. The pain meds they’d given him work wonders until the second they wear off, and then Katsuki’s waking in a sweat, practically doubling over because of the searing agony in his side.

“‘M gonna have to start setting a damn alarm in the middle of the night,” he grumbles at one point. “And I’ll just sleep on the couch so I won’t bother you.”

“No,” Eijirou says firmly. “No way, man. The alarm’s fine, but I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

Katsuki couldn’t really be surprised at that.

It’s weeks before Katsuki’s energy starts to return; he’s been sleeping a lot , and falling asleep without actually meaning to on occasion. Several times he’s even fallen asleep right on Eijirou—on his shoulder, in his lap, leaning up against him—and not once does the redhead move or wake him up when he did.

“Fuck,” he grumbles after peeling his dry eyes open, sitting up from having been tucked surprisingly comfortably under Ei’s arm. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“No reason to, babe. Sleep’s good for you while you’re healing up.”

“But I keep falling asleep on you like a fucking log,” Katsuki grumbles.

“I don’t mind,” Ei tells him, smiling.

“Of course you don’t…”

~

Changing the stupid bandages every day isn’t fun, either, and unfortunately Katsuki can’t do it very well by himself, leaving Eijirou to do most of the work. Somehow, through all of it, the idiot doesn’t lose his smile, even if there’s something dark looming behind it, something Katsuki sees but can’t bring himself to point out.

And there’s one last thing he has to tell Eijirou before he forces himself to bring it up and ask him what’s been bothering him under the surface—other than the obvious—because he can’t go long knowing the fucker’s having internal issues he won’t talk about himself for Katsuki’s sake.

It’s only been two weeks since leaving the hospital when he finds Eijirou in the kitchen in the middle of waiting for the microwave to finish.

“Ei,” he says, planting himself on one of the barstools at the counter; standing for too long tires him out way too quickly, and he hates it.

“Sup?” the redhead asks, turning around.

“I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Are you okay?” Ei asks, an immediate frown of concern manifesting, one that Katsuki waves his hand at to dismiss.

“Yeah,” he tells him. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. My duties as a hero, I mean.”

“...what about it?”

“I just want you to know that after all this shit is healed enough, ‘m still gonna do it.”

Immediately, Ei’s eyes widen and he takes a small step toward the blonde, ignoring the microwave as it signals it’s finished. “But Katsu—“

Katsuki holds his hand up, promptly stopping him. “Just hear me out, alright? I can’t let this shit stop me from living my damn life and doing what I wanna do, and since the fucking second I got my Quirk I knew what that was.” His voice is firm, and though he knows Ei isn’t going to like it, he has to continue. “I’m not gonna let this bullshit stop me from being a hero, even if I’m not number one. I know you don’t like it. Honestly it scares the living shit out of me, too, ‘cause I don’t know what might happen. But if All Might could go on for years being injured the way he was, so can I. So I’m gonna.”

At the end, Katsuki holds his breath and waits. Ei looks uneasy, and all he can do is fucking hope this doesn’t cause another argument; Heaven fucking knows they’ve had more than enough of those lately.

But he should know his damn boyfriend better than that. The redhead’s shoulders relax a bit, and though his smile is a little sad, it’s there. “There’s nothin’ I can say to talk you out of it, is there?”

“No,” the blonde tells him firmly. “I’m gonna do it with or without your support, but it’s gonna be way fucking easier if you have my back.”

That stupid grin expands. Katsuki knows the response he’ll get before Dumb Hair even opens his mouth, and relief floods through him so fast that his muscles visibly relax.

“You’re right that I don’t like it, but you know I’ve always got your back, man.”

And then Ei does his stupid classic fist bump from across the counter, though he doesn’t stay there for long. Katsuki turns and lets the other’s arms envelop his shoulders when he’s come around, and he can’t help returning the embrace.

It’s really no surprise when Eijirou has his conditions, though, the main one being that he stays by Katsuki’s side no matter what so he can better protect him.

“Even if the whole world finds out about us. I don’t care. I just wanna keep you as safe as I can.”

And how the fuck can Katsuki not agree? He doesn't like it; there’s always the chance that it could cause him to get hurt, too. But the blonde knows that’s a risk they take every damn day they’re on duty, and he’s gotta compromise somewhere .

~

It’s months before Katsuki’s allowed to take the bandages off for good, before he heals enough for the stitches to come out. By then, he’s completely restless, itching to get back out doing hero work. He hasn’t used his Quirk nearly the entire time he’s been recovering, and man can’t he wait to blast some damn villains heads again.

But of course, fucking Eijirou doesn’t let him go the second his stitches are gone and he’s been put on a much lower dose of painkillers.

“C’mon, babe, you’re still not fully healed yet so you’re not at your strongest.”

And Katsuki has to bite his tongue around harsh words that will bring despair back to Ei’s gorgeous goddamn face. “I’m never gonna be fully healed or at my strongest again.”

But of course, as he does because he loves him, Katsuki humors the idiot and gives it another month. And he swears it’s the longest goddamn month of his entire life.

Eijirou does his best to make up for it, though. He takes Katsuki out on dates (and only to places he knows the blonde likes, meaning none of that dinner and a movie bullshit) and surprises him with little things here and there. At first it feels more like Ei’s just trying to distract him more than anything, but he can’t deny it works , or that he appreciates  the sentiment and intentions behind it.

But even Eijirou can’t keep him away from doing what he loves for much longer. By the end of the month, Katsuki’s more irritable than usual, to the point that even Ei is having trouble handling him. Just under exactly a month since making the month deal, he presents Katsuki with a surprise.

“Hey, I got somethin’ for you,” he tells him after dinner one evening just as they’re finishing up dishes.

“Again?” Katsuki mumbles—it’s on the edge of irritation, but he does his best to remain passive at the very least. Because honestly, how can he be mad that Eijirou is practically spoiling him rotten?

“Yeah, but this is the last thing for a while since I know you’re getting annoyed by me, and this is probably gonna blow everything else right out of the water.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow in suspicion at his boyfriend, though he follows when Ei nods for him to. He’s led to the small coat closet not far from the front door; Eijirou tugs the door open and shuffles about all of the hanging things, digging his way into the back left corner. Katsuki stands with his arms crossed, skeptical as the redhead pulls out a strange, long bag-looking thing on a hanger with a zipper running the length of its front.

“The fuck is that?” he mumbles.

“C’mere and I’ll show you,” Eijirou tells him with a hint of a smile before he leads the blonde back to the bedroom. Carefully he lays the thing across the bed and then stands up straight, grinning as he plants his hands on his hips. “Open it.”

“What?”

“‘S like a present, so you have to open it.”

The skepticism never fades as Katsuki moves to tug the zipper on the bag down halfway and pushes the weird, leather-like material of it aside. Only then does his face relax, his eyes widening just a bit.

“Are you freakin’ serious?” he mumbles.

“Of course, babe,” Ei says from beside him.

“Is it new?”

“Brand spakin’ new.”

“How the fuck much did this cost?”

“It was free after Hatsume found out what happened. Midoriya helped a bit though too, ‘cause he’s such good friends with her.”

Katsuki shakes his head just slightly as he undoes the rest of the zipper, revealing the rest of the crisp, brand new hero costume inside of the bag. It’s the literal spitting image of his last one, though the material is somehow a bit softer, he finds as he runs his fingers over it.

“The gloves and sleeves are down in this pocket,” Ei says as he moves the tank top aside, revealing another zipper in the back from which he retrieves said items. “Oh right, and your mask.” He holds it up, grinning.

But Katsuki isn’t even looking at the damn items of his hero costume. He’s looking at his boyfriend, at this fucker who’s done so goddamn much for him, and feeling like on the inside he’s fucking drowning in adoration for him.

“...when did you do all this shit?” he mumbles.

“Not long after you told me you wanted to keep doing hero work,” Eijirou says. “Your old costume wasn’t salvageable after what happened. It was soaked in blood and ripped to shreds, plus your gauntlets were destroyed… so I figured why not surprise you?”

Wordlessly, the blonde takes the pieces of his costume from Eijirou’s hands and casts them back down on the bed; the redhead’s eyes barely have time to wrinkle into a frown before he’s suddenly being enveloped in Katsuki’s strong warm arms. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “You’re too damn good to me, Eijirou.”

A soft laugh sounds in Katsuki’s ear as Ei returns the hug. “Nah. You deserve it all, man.”

“But I feel like I don’t give you shit, babe, and then you go and do all this.”

“You give me everything just by breathing, ya know? I’m a simple guy. I don’t need much more than that.”

“God, you’re so fucking cheesy,” grumbles the blonde. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too, Katsuki.”

A moment later they pull apart and Katsuki’s eyes trail back down to his hero costume. With Eijirou right there next to him and the brand new material sewn together into his trademark look, he resolves right then and there not to let this one get ruined the way the old one did. He swears on his damn life that he won’t, and he’ll spend the next two years or however long he’s got left being the damn hero he always wanted to be. No ifs, ands, or buts.

“Just gotta get the neck brace and the grenade bracers,” he says absently.

“Aw c’mon, man. Don’t think I went to all the effort to get you a brand new costume and forget the freakin’ gauntlets! Gimme some credit!” Eijirou says proudly.

“The fuck?”

The redhead is practically beaming. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He takes Katsuki’s hand firmly in his own and leads him back toward the front door. Katsuki has to admit his heart is a little elevated as he’s being led down the stairs from their apartment and into the parking lot, straight to the car.

“Where the fuck are we going?” he mutters.

“Nowhere,” Ei says, circling around to the rear as he taps the unlock button. He releases Katsuki’s hand and lifts the lid of the trunk to reveal a large cardboard box, which he quickly pulls open. Inside are none other than the grenade bracers, sleek and completely new. Between them is the neck brace, so much shinier than he remembered his last one being.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” he mumbles in slight but obvious awe, reaching in to run his fingers over the pristine green paint of one of the gauntlets.

“Of course, babe,” Ei says proudly. “Hatsume improved ‘em, too, to make them a little bit lighter but more durable, and the inside compartment can hold fifteen percent more sweat to make a bigger blast.”

Katsuki can’t help it. He reaches down and lifts one of them and, damn , sure enough it’s quite a bit lighter than the last ones. He slips his arm through the center of it and locks it into place.

“Perfect fit,” he murmurs, twisting his arm back and forth to check it out. “ Damn.”

“Ya like ‘em?” Ei says, an edge of pride in his tone.

“Fuck yeah I do. Kinda question is that?”

“I’m glad, Katsuki.” Eijirou beams. “Oh, and the material of the rest of the costume is a lot more tear resistant and stuff. Turns out Hatsume has made lots of tech advancements in the past couple years, so you’ll have more protection but keep your trademark look at the same time.”

Katsuki’s nodding as he removes the gauntlet from his arm and places it back in the box next to the other.

“Wanna take ‘em upstairs?” Ei asks.

“Yeah.”

Of course, Eijirou insists upon carrying the whole damn thing himself after he’s folded the box closed again, and he makes it look easy lugging it up the stairs (without even hardening his damn arm), and Katsuki can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Wanna try the whole thing on and see how it fits before we go back to work?” Ei asks, setting the box down the length of the couch.

“Might as well,” Katsuki says.

Eijirou remains with him as Katsuki goes back to the room and strips his clothes off to replace them with his hero costume. As usual, the shirt and the mask are the last things to go on besides the gauntlets and neck brace, and halfway through tugging the tank top over his head, the redhead stops him.

“What?” he mutters when a warm hand wraps around his wrist.

But Eijirou needn’t answer; his eyes say all Katsuki needs to know. They’re pointed right at the oddly puckered, scarred skin of his left side. It’s still reddish, still clear he was brutally torn into, but it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be. Still, the redhead’s big eyes are swimming with emotion, the smile from earlier nowhere in sight.

“What is it, Ei?”

Eijirou shakes himself. “Nothin’. I’m just really glad you’re okay. I mean… given everything else. I’m glad you’re still with me even if it’s not for as long as we thought.” His hand slips from Katsuki’s wrist then as he manages to bring a small smile back.

Katsuki finishes pulling his shirt in place before stepping forward, taking Eijirou’s dumb face firmly between his hands. He kisses him hard—staggeringly hard—and throws everything he has into it. His resolve locks into place, then; just as he refuses to let another damn uniform get shredded by careless mistakes, he refuses to let his last months, years—however long—be in vain with this beautiful fucking man he loves so much.

“Whoa…” breathes the redhead when their lips pull gently apart. His lashes flutter open, his eyes a bit glossy as though every damn thing thrown into that one kiss has spread throughout his entire being.

“I’m gonna fucking make this count, Eijirou. No more weak, petty bullshit or beating around the bush. I’m serious now.”

It’s clear Ei is a bit lost for words. “You… you sayin’ you weren’t serious before…?”

“Not enough. But I am now, even if death is starin’ me right in the face.”

A small, half smile tugs at the right side of Eijirou’s mouth. “Good. Me too, then.”

Katsuki kisses him again, softer this time, and leaving no more questions between them.

“Hey, how ‘bout I get into my hero stuff too and we take pictures?” he suggests once they’ve pulled apart and Katsuki is resuming getting dressed. He expects the scowl, knowing Katsuki isn’t one for pictures, but he’s glad when the other mutters a ‘whatever.’

Ei spares him a long photoshoot, thankfully, but he’s cooperative for the pictures he does want to get. Several times Ei has to remind him to stop looking so angry, which only seems to annoy him more.

“This shit means you’re finally letting me get back out there and do some asskicking tomorrow, right?” Katsuki mumbles when their photoshoot is over and they’re changing back into normal clothes.

“Yup!” Ei says. “I think you’re ready, man.”

“‘Bout damn time,” grumbles Katsuki under his breath.

Eijirou just laughs and throws his arms around the blonde.

~

It’s never felt so damn good to get back to work. Katsuki’s not, and has never been, the type of person who can just sit around all day, and several months in a row of doing just that has him more pumped than ever to get out and kick some serious villain ass.

And Eijirou’s time in finally fucking letting him do so has perfect timing, because the day after he’s getting back into the groove of hero work, breaking news about some asshole trying to reinstate the shitty League of Villains pops up around the entire damn city, and every hero within the vicinity is on call to track them down.

It’s the perfect damn thing to get Katsuki and Eijirou both back in the groove with the ongoing investigations and the minor villains popping up here and there in between. Older heroes who’d worked several years ago to take care of the old League have showed up, too, and even All Might, who can no longer use his One for All form for so much as a second, is on the case, doing background work.

Eijirou stays close—closer than normal, Katsuki easily notices—but he can’t bring himself to be too irritated by his almost-over protectiveness. He knows damn well that he’d do the same thing if the situation were reversed, and he’s glad the fucker still has his back despite his condition, despite the countless fights and arguments they’ve found themselves in over the last several months during Katsuki’s recovery.

The whole stupid League of Villains 2.0 shit has the redhead even more on edge than normal, though, and that isn’t something Katsuki can go without bringing up.

“Calm your shit, Ei,” he tells the redhead as they’re turning in for the night, getting their general hero paperwork and shit done before they’re ready to head home.

“Huh?” Eijirou mumbles, looking up as his pen stalls.

“I get you’re stickin’ close by, but sometimes you’re a little too damn close and getting in the way.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe, Katsuki.”

“I know . But I’m not fuckin’ helpless, okay? I’m still strong. I can still protect myself. And I don’t want your dumbass jumping in the way and end up accidentally hurting you myself. ‘M not tryin’ to pick a fight, but I’m not a goddamn baby, either.”

Eijirou gives Katsuki one of his slightly saddened smiles. “Yeah. You’re right, Katsuki. ‘S just that we don’t know much about these villains or their Quirks, and I’m just… worried.”

“I know. I said I get it. You just don’t gotta be unbreakable all the time. Only when you really need to be. Got it?”

A little of that worry fades from Ei’s eyes and transforms into determination. He nods. “Got it.”

Katsuki still doesn’t refrain from holding his hand on their way back home. And he doesn’t give a fuck who sees, either.

~

As the investigation progresses and hero work carries on over the next few months, Katsuki’s injuries and condition with the radioactivity shit bothers him more than he’d anticipated. The more he moves, and strains himself physically, the more his insides burn . He’s forced to slow down more and as needs exceedingly more rest than he had before his injuries.

And he hates it. Hates that in the half a year he’s been on a forced hiatus he’s fallen so damn far behind everybody else, that he’s lost so much progress because of one stupid slip-up.

What only makes everything that much harder is knowing almost everyone around him disapproves of his continuing to work as a hero. They can see that he’s slowed down, and though many of them don’t know of his death sentence, they  know of his injuries. They know his body has taken a huge hit, and it’s unspoken between all of them that he’ll never be as strong as he used to be, and it fucking kills him.

Katsuki Bakugou is not one to have breakdowns—not often, anyway. The last one he can recall is all the way back to year one of fucking high school, after being rescued from having been kidnapped by the shitty League of Villains, after All Might lost his ability to be the symbol of peace any longer. It was when he blamed himself for causing the world to lose their greatest hero, and when he’d taken all of that shitty pent up anger out on Deku. Because that was so long ago, he’s forgotten what it felt like to have his shitty emotions build up like that, to push at the edges of the walls he’s built up to hold them in, to threaten an explosion within him.

But every day he wakes up with the reminder, with a little voice in his head whispering ‘ not good enough, not strong enough ’ over and over, he’s remembering. Every damn time someone crosses his gaze with a pitying look, every time he slips up or isn’t able to bring his full force against these damn villains, he remembers. He can feel it.

But he holds it in. As best he can, he forces himself to keep it back, to shove it out of his mind whenever possible and to channel it into the fighting he can do.

It’s inevitable that Eijirou notices, though he may not know the full extent of what Katsuki is hiding just beneath the surface, and the redhead does what he can to help Katsuki through it. There are times when he’s the absolute only thing keeping Katsuki going, preventing him from breaking down completely. And yet it only adds another layer of shitty emotion and frustration piled on everything else—guilt. Guilt because Eijirou’s starting to lose sleep again, because stress is the number one goddamn thing that causes his insomnia, and there are nights when not even Katsuki can find a way to lull him to sleep.

Katsuki’s damn mouth has always had a habit of making shit worse, too, and this time is no exception.

“Maybe I should just fuckin’ leave,” he mumbles one night when they’re lying in bed, facing away from each other with their backs pressed together because it’s too hot to be any closer.

“Leave? What?” Ei asks. “Whattaya mean?”

“... leave , Eijirou. ‘M not doing anyone any damn good, least of all you . I’m fucking dragging you down and it ain’t getting any better.”

“Wait… you mean leave me ?” He sounds panicked already; he’s twisted around a bit, but Katsuki doesn’t move. He knows he can’t look at him. Hasn’t been able to for a while without feeling like shit. He says nothing, either, because he can’t . He can’t just admit that’s exactly what he means like it’s nothing. “Katsuki?”

“I don’t fucking know, Eijirou. I don’t…” He huffs in frustration before sitting quickly up. “I don’t know,” he repeats.

Ei, too, sits up. “Have you been thinkin’ about that a lot?” he asks softly.

“Not a lot. Some.”

“But… what good would leaving do, man? How’s that a solution?” He sounds calm and Katsuki can’t tell if it’s that deceptive kind of calm just by the sound of his voice, but he still doesn’t turn around.

“‘Cause then you could move on, dumbass.”

“...move on… to what?”

“Anything! I don’t know !” he shouts, shaking his head and burying his fingers in his hair and tugging, trying to keep himself together. “To something better!”

“But I don’t… I don’t think there is anything better, Katsuki. Not for me.”

“ Fuck , you’re a moron!” Finally Katsuki whips himself around, and Eijirou’s widened eyes catch his gaze immediately. He looks… confused, more than anything. “What’s the goddamn point of staying with someone who’s probably gonna be fucking dead in a few months?!” The redhead flinches at the spitting of the word ‘dead.’ “You’re just fucking hurting yourself, you damn idiot!” Katsuki grits his teeth against the sudden bursting of emotion; his walls are beginning to crack, to leak. No no no .

“Maybe that’s true,” Eijirou says, somehow still calm, though the slight wrinkle between his thin brows betray his own distress. “But I think being away from you while you suffer on your own would hurt worse, Katsuki. And it… man, it would kill me knowing I didn’t spend all the time I could with you. I know it’s really fucking hard, man, but I can’t stand wasting a second. And I’m sorry if that sounds selfish, but I’m serious.”

He is. He so fucking is. The calm he somehow maintains isn’t even a lie; he means every damn word, and Katsuki knows he isn’t going to let him go.

And Katsuki doesn’t want to go.

“But maybe it fucking kills me to hurt you,” he grits out.

“ You aren’t hurting me, Katsuki.” Somehow, some-fucking- how , the fucker smiles . Just a little. “We’ve been over this, remember? ‘S the fact that I don’t get to be with you forever like I wanted, and that I couldn’t protect you, and that I sometimes still don’t even know how to help you when you’re upset or in pain…” He pauses to swallow and shake himself. “None of that is your fault. You gotta know that.”

“Does that even fucking matter? You’re getting hurt either way—“

“Yes, it does matter,” Eijirou cuts in. “‘Cause I know you’d never intentionally hurt me, Katsuki, just like I’d never hurt you on purpose. It hurts, yeah. I’m not gonna deny that. But man , I’ve got so much freaking love to give you and only so much time to do it. Please don’t let that go to waste. Please .”

Katsuki’s jaw is beginning to ache with how hard he’s clenching his teeth; his whole body is tense as he can’t break his gaze away from Eijirou’s. He doesn’t even want to look away from those liquid scarlet eyes.

“... fuck ,” he hisses, quickly swiping his hand across his face, trying to erase the shitty, weak tears trailing down his cheeks. “Damn you, Eijirou. I fucking hate crying…”

“‘S okay to cry, though,” Ei tells him. “You’ve been holding in a lot, huh? I’m sorry I couldn’t tell…”

By then Eijirou’s arms have encircled Katsuki’s shoulders, one hand cradling the back of his head. The blonde can’t help but latch onto him, too, crying those shitty tears he hides in the redhead’s shoulder for a good, long while, letting the fucker pressed up against him comfort him by rocking him gently from side to side, humming some tune brokenly in his ear, and it helps. So, so damn much, it helps.

And when he’s calmed down, he lets Eijirou love him, lets himself get lost in the moment with him for the first time in months . All of the shit he’s held in for so long doesn’t disappear, but he channels it into something so much better than the cracked, half-broken feeling of everything pushing at his very edges, ignoring the searing of his insides that any kind of physical exertion causes. All he can bring himself to give a fuck about for the remainder of that night is Eijirou , because even still he’s the sole thing that truly matters anymore.

~

Things get better after that, even if they’re not perfect, even if they don’t go back to the way they were before Katsuki’s injuries. Eijirou starts to check up on him more often, and though it can get damn annoying being on a daily basis, Katsuki tells him what he can, and it eases their minds a bit.

Though while Katsuki shares all the emotional shit, he keeps the physical stuff to a bare minimum even if he knows it might come back to bite him in the ass later. Sometimes it’s almost like he can feel the damn deterioration inside of him; some days are better than others, but still he finds that those better days are becoming fewer and FURTHER between. The physical demands of his work accelerate how shitty he feels, and the more he does the weaker he seems to get—completely opposite of the way he’s used to.

He’s gotten used to the salty, metallic flavor of blood assaulting his tongue from the back of his throat during work. He’s used to forcing himself to swallow it back and keep quiet about it. Eijirou has already lost too much damn sleep for Katsuki to pile one more thing on top of it all, and it’s not like this is something the redhead’s worrying about will fix, anyway—not that anything he worries about ever is.

A routine hospital visit for a checkup confirms what Katsuki already suspects—the deterioration rate of his body from the inside out has accelerated, and it’s no surprise when he’s told the likely cause is so much physical activity and strain on his body, especially due to the use of his Quirk what with the retaliation his arms and shoulders go through every time he uses it.

“Katsuki…” Eijirou says just when they’re making it back home. “Maybe you should take a step ba—“

“No.”

Eijirou had known that was coming as soon as he opened his mouth, but he won’t give up without at least trying . “I’m not saying to stop doing hero work. Just… a little bit less. Take one more day off a week or something. Let your body recoup a little more from what you are doing.”

“Fuck that. I’m not gonna half-ass anything, especially with this new League popping up.”

“But you know what they said about your lungs—“

“I don’t care.”

“ I do, man! You need to rest, or—“

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Katsuki cuts in sharply. With that, he hops from the car and slams the door without bothering to wait for the other.

And just like that, things are bad again. Eijirou can feel the huge gap that one little conversation put between them right off the bat, but he continues to check up on the blonde; he’s too damn worried not to. He keeps as close of an eye on him as he can, too, knowing good and well that Katsuki never gives him the whole truth about how he’s feeling. Eijirou has learned over the years the signs to look for in Katsuki’s demeanor; nine times out of ten he can tell when he’s lying or hiding something, but he knows in this situation bringing it up would only deepen that rut between them.

So he keeps his mouth shut and throws everything he has into protecting him, even if it means putting himself on the edge of breaking.

~

Pain .

Katsuki’s vision is blurring out, his whole body shaking, burning .

No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this…

That familiar flavor of blood is on his tongue, but there’s more—so much more than he’s used to. He falls to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. His stomach aches from the blow, his chest burns . There’s nothing he can do to stop the retching, the coughing, and the next thing he knows there’s a puddle of blood splattered on the ground in front of him.

I can’t fucking breathe…

Scarlet drips from his lips after every heave. His arms can barely even hold him anymore. His whole body shakes.

“ Katsuki!”

The scream is so familiar, so soaked with terror and anguish. Past the ringing in his ears, Katsuki can just barely make out the sound of boots slapping concrete, growing nearer and nearer.

“No!” he wants to scream, but the word comes out in little more than a choked gurgle.

No. He’s outnumbered. They’ll kill him…

But he can’t tell Eijirou to run. His throat is on fire; blood is dripping from his mouth and nose, his whole body feels about ready to fucking burst.

And he knows they’re coming for him. They plan to finish him off, and he plans to let them if it means buying Eijirou enough time to get the hell out of there. He’s too far gone already; he swears on his own damn grave that he’ll use what little is left of his life to protect that damn idiot he loves.

But he can’t fucking move ! He can’t even manage to stagger to his feet. Wave after wave of agony pulses through him; the edges of his vision are going black.

No, no, no. Fuck! No!

He gasps around the blood in his mouth, hanging onto consciousness by his fingernails. A blurry flash of red enters his vision; muffled sounds of a familiar voice meet his ears.

No, you fucking idiot! Run!

He wants to scream it with everything inside of him, but he knows that even if he could it would be futile. As he manages to look up, feeling the blood dripping down his chin, and see Eijirou standing in front of him crouching defensively with his entire torso hardened, he knows the idiot wouldn’t leave. He knows him too well, and that means he understands that Eijirou will stop at nothing to protect him, even if it means sacrificing himself.

Lotta good that shit will do , he manages to think past the growing agony within him. Protecting the one who’s already dying…

It’s as if the thought alone provokes the shitty, radioactive venom bullshit inside of him and he’s doubling over again, more blood splattering onto the concrete beneath him.

No . I can’t leave him alone to fight…

The thought is weak; his body can no longer hold him and he collapses to the ground. All he can see is a blurred, distorted version of that weird-haired idiot he loves more than life charging in to fight before the blackness swallows him whole.

Chapter Text

At first Katsuki doesn’t know if what he sees is a dream or one of those ridiculous, life-flashing-before-your-eyes flashbacks you supposedly get before you die, but it’s no surprise he sees Eijirou. He’s with him, even if somehow he knows that what he’s experiencing isn’t reality.

The space around them is familiar, but he can’t place whether or not he’s reliving a memory; there’s no sense of deja vu, no specific recognition apart from that vague familiarity.

Eijirou’s hand is warm in his—an unusual sensation for one who’s usually the warmer of the two. The sidewalk in front of them is littered with gold leaves, casting long shadows in the light of the sunset directly ahead. Half bare trees line each side of the path. The air is warm and still; only a few birds chirp overhead from their perches among the branches. Their footsteps are silent as they walk along, bringing Katsuki’s attention to the fact that his feet are bare—no, that both of their feet are bare.

His eyes trail up to Eijirou’s face—and then he knows he’s in a dream, that this isn’t his life flashing before him. Eijirou’s hair is long , cascading down around his shoulders, fading from a somewhat washed out red to a dark, silky, velvety black from bottom to top.

Katsuki nearly trips over his own damn feet at the sight, and staggers to a halt when Eijirou’s brilliant eyes, reflecting the oranges of the sunset, catch his, and he smiles. The smile is concerned, though. Confused. He doesn’t know why Katsuki has stopped. He’s wondering if Katsuki is okay, though he doesn’t verbalize any of these thoughts. Katsuki just knows .

He reaches up with a somewhat confused frown of his own and brushes his fingers through the hair hanging over Eijirou’s left shoulder. It’s even softer than it looks, falling easily through his fingers, picking up in the gentle breeze.

Katsuki’s breath hitches when Eijirou’s smile widens again and steps forward, stretching his chin up just enough to place a gentle, warm kiss on the blonde’s forehead. And Katsuki swears it feels like fireworks when those damn soft lips meet his skin, but he has little time to react because the other is tugging him along again—or trying to, that is. Katsuki tugs back, shaking his head in confusion. At the same time, a worried—almost panicked—expression twists up Eijirou’s face, distorting those damn beautiful features. He’s urgent, with a look that says we really need to keep moving . But Katsuki doesn’t get it. Where the fuck are they going? Why are they back near UA? What the fuck is going on?

Am I even fucking alive ?

... are you even alive?!

But Eijirou doesn’t seem to be getting it, so Katsuki opens his mouth to start hurling the questions at him.

As soon as he tries, the pain hits; it suddenly feels like he’s trying to swallow a thousand fucking needles. It’s only then when the scene in front of him vanishes and he’s left alone, floating through some shitty darkness with nothing to hold onto; there isn’t even a trace of the warmth of Eijirou’s hand against his palm…

~

Waking up sucks because Katsuki knows where he is before he even opens his eyes—the brick-like mattress underneath him is a dead giveaway. Add that on top of the sensation of tape suck to his right arm and the tube thing running across his face, as well as the hum of shitty machinery, and he knows he’s back in the damn hospital.

And alive. Somehow.

But that’s the least of his worries, because the memory of dumbass Eijirou jumping in front of him in full defense mode surfaces and his eyes fly open.

The room is bright; sunlight streams in from the large window on the left. The room is an exact replica of the one he was in before, but flipped. And Eijirou is right there beside him between the bed and the window, sound asleep. He’s leaning over from the chair, his head resting on the mattress beside Katsuki. His hair is down.

And he’s covered in bandages. All Katsuki can see of them are the few on one side of his face, some wrapped around his neck, and the ones seemingly wrapped all the way around his torso. His arms are down in his lap, but… one of them is definitely in a sling. Some of his exposed skin is bruised, and bruised dark . His left eye is blackened as well.

For some stupid, shitty, ridiculous reason he is absolutely going to blame on whatever drugs they have running through him, Katsuki’s eyes fill with tears the second he lays eyes on his boyfriend. He quickly swipes them away, tugging off the stupid oxygen tube in the process, but it does little good as they instantly flood in again, this time spilling completely over and dripping from his chin.

Fuck fuck fuck , he mutters internally, sitting up and continually brushing them away to no avail. The ache in his chest and that burning he’s gotten used to after all these months make themselves known as soon as he moves, but it doesn’t matter. It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before.

It’s like some fucked up emotional tidal wave is rolling through him; he can’t stop the stupid tears no matter how hard he tries, and he can’t keep his eyes away from the bruised and battered Eijirou beside him.

It takes a good few minutes for him to get a handle on his damn emotions, and he curses himself internally the entire time. And shit is he glad Eijirou’s asleep; hell knows he’d get ten times as worried as he surely already is if he were to witness these fucking baby tears.

By then Katsuki doesn’t know if the ache in his chest is because of the damage to his insides from the poison or because of how fucking awful it is to see Eijirou covered in bandages, so beat up and surely in pain of his own, and all because Katsuki’s shitty, weak body succumbed to the deterioration. All he knows for sure is the depths of anger he holds for himself for letting this happen.

And, he can’t help but think as gently his hand comes down to rest tenderly against the redhead’s warm cheek, that every time someone told him he shouldn’t have been doing that—that he should’ve retired as soon as he learned of his condition and let his body rest for the remainder of his days—they’d been right. So fucking right. Because now fucking Eijirou is hurt because of his insistence to continue his work as a hero. He can’t help feeling lucky, knowing it could have ended up so much worse…

I’m so fucking sorry, Eijirou…

The thought is cut short and his attention is caught by the sound of the doorknob turning. His head whips around to find a nurse stepping in.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, tugging on a pair of gloves. “How are you feeling?”

Like shit . “Fine.”

“Just fine? Are you in any pain?”

Katsuki half-shrugs. “Not really,” he lies habitually; he’s gotten so used to it that is almost second nature now, to downplay his pain.

“Glad to hear it. I just came to check on your IV. Looks like the saline is almost done. After that we can probably remove it if you feel up to eating…” His voice trails off as his eyes point down to the breathing tube cast aside in the blonde’s lap. “Ah… you should really put that back on, though. Your oxygen levels are pretty low, which is what alerted me in the first place.”

Katsuki’s eyes drop to it as well. Almost robotically he reaches for it with a shaky hand. The nurse sees it too because he practically scrambles to help. Just as the stupid thing is being tucked back around his ears, Eijirou moves beneath his hand, causing him to withdraw it just as his eyes are fluttering slowly open.

“...Katsuki,” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up. “Hey. You’re finally awake.”

The word finally strikes something within Katsuki, but it’s quickly sucked away in seeing more of the redhead and all of his injuries. He’s only half aware of it when the nurse slips quietly back out of the room, and fuck he can already feel his eyes beginning to well with those stupid tears again.

Eijirou notices it right away, and it wakes him up quickly. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He wants so badly to reach for the other, but with his arms trapped in casts and slings he’s forced to settle for a simple look that he knows doesn’t convey the same concern.

“You look like someone made a fuckin’ punching bag outta you,” Katsuki mumbles, frustratedly digging the heels of his hands into his eyes to get rid of the tears. “‘N it’s my goddamn fault.”

“Hey, no. No no no. No it’s not, man.” Ei leans forward. “C’mon, look at me. ‘S not your fault at all, okay? These things happen, and—“

“No they don’t, Eijirou. They don’t just fucking happen . It’s because I’m a goddamn idiot and decided to keep going even though everybody told me to fucking stop, and I’m a stubborn bastard who can’t get shit like that through my skull, and now you had to pay for it.” His voice gets rougher and rougher as he speaks. No matter how hard he tries he can’t stop himself from crying. “ Fuck .”

And Eijirou can’t help it. He knows it’s against the rules, but he doesn’t care; he stands up and plants himself on the bed in front of his boyfriend. “Katsuki, you know that’s not how I see it at all. You know me. If anything I’m so proud of you for not letting all this crap hold you back from living your dream, man. Seriously. And you saved lots of people over these last months even while dealing with it all… and you did it while bearing pain even worse than you let everyone believe.”

“Yeah, and look where the fuck that got me. Look where it got both of us . Both of your fucking arms are broken, for fuck’s sake! You’ve got a goddamn black eye and bruises and bandages everywhere!”

“Only one arm is broken,” Ei corrects him. “My left wrist is just fractured a bit, but they wanted to put it in a cast just to be safe. The sling’ll come off and I’ll just have to wear a brace in a couple days.”

“Like that fucking matters, Eijirou!” Katsuki snaps; by now he’s stopped bothering to dry his face. His eyes are on fire, his whole body tense. With the cannula wrapped across his face and the pallid state of his skin, he looks so… broken. So guilty. Eijirou’s chest aches for him. “You still got hurt! Fucking bad!”

“I don’t regret it, though,” Ei tells him softly. “Not one bit. I’m… I’m just glad you’re alive, Katsuki. And awake.”

Once more Katsuki drags his arm across his face. “The fuck’s that mean? You expect me not to wake up or someshit?”

Eijirou’s throat suddenly goes dry. “...I wasn’t sure,” he murmurs. “You’ve been unconscious for over a week. They… were starting to consider the state you were in as a coma…”

“...what?” deadpans the blonde.

“‘S like your body went into shock or something, which makes sense after what happened. You passed out you’d been mostly unresponsive ever since.”

“A… fucking week ?”

Ei responds with nothing but a small nod, and instant regret fills him for not breaking that news to Katsuki more lightly. He lets the blonde sit with it for a minute, his bloodshot eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenching and relaxing, gaze never leaving the redhead’s.

“What day is it?” he mumbles.

“Saturday. The twenty first. You missed your birthday.” Eijirou manages a small smile. “But don’t worry, we can celebrate for a whole week if you want after you get released.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” Katsuki mutters. “Tell me what happened after I passed out.”

“I protected you,” Ei says simply. “Like I promised I would. They got called off, so I was pretty lucky. The others showed up and we got you here as soon as possible.”

“...how bad are your injuries?”

Ei shrugs his left shoulder—it feels odd, but any movement of his right sends pins of pain shooting through it (though he won’t tell Katsuki this). “I might have a couple scars and stuff. The bruising will fade over a couple weeks and—“

“That’s not what I asked, Dumb Hair.”

“My injuries aren’t bad enough for you to worry a lot about, Katsuki, so—“

“And what the fuck would you say if I told you that, idiot?!”

Despite the snap, Eijirou relaxes, too used to Katsuki’s rough manner of speaking to flinch away. “I’d want you to tell me,” he admits, his heart sinking into his stomach. “‘S not as bad as it looks, I promise. My ribs are bruised… I got lots of cuts, well, everywhere, but they’re not all that deep. My right radius is… kinda shattered, and like I said my left wrist is fractured. And, um, a few broken fingers. Sprained my knee too, and my shoulder’s a little outta whack ‘cause it was dislocated. Um, I… think I have a mild concussion, too, so I keep getting headaches…” He trails off; the look on Katsuki’s face—his brows pushed together so hard there are deep wrinkles in his forehead, the corners of his lips literally turning downward—has him realizing just how bad it’s got to sound to him.

Because it is. Eijirou will never tell Katsuki this, but every time he moves something hurts, even with the pain meds they’ve had him on. Breathing strains painfully against his bruised ribs; he can’t move his right arm at all without the shooting pains. His head throbs. He limps when he walks. It’s surprising even to him that they’d discharged him after only a day and a half.

Memories of that day inevitably surface. Despite all of his own injuries, the most painful thing about that day was seeing Katsuki doubled over with a growing pool of blood bright against the gray concrete beneath him as it dripped and splattered from his mouth. Eijirou had gone into instant defense mode the second he saw him, throwing himself between the blonde and those damned villains and prepared to do anything it took to fight them off despite knowing, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fight all four of them off on his own. All he could do was try, even if that meant using his unbreakable form as a last resort. Because he’d promised— sworn on everything within him—that he wouldn’t break. He promised it to Katsuki. He’d promised it to himself . It absolutely wasn’t an option. And yet…

This time Eijirou is the one with tear-filled eyes, and he can’t bring himself to keep a steady gaze with his boyfriend any longer. His eyes drop, breaking their long-held wordless conversation. He manages a swallow through a thick throat.

“I… I’m sorry, Katsuki. I broke.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Katsuki’s tugging him forward, already mindful of his injuries by bringing him forward with a hand on the back of his neck and keeping his arms gentle when they wrap around Eijirou’s shoulders. “Shut up, you damn idiot,” he mumbles into the redhead’s hair.

Both of his arms pressed in between their torsos and having his injured shoulders squeezed even lightly in Katsuki’s arms leaves Eijirou aching, but he still allows himself melt against the blonde. He leans in against him, feeling himself shake as he hides his face in the side of Katsuki’s neck and does his best to return the affection despite his arms being trapped in the stupid slings.

“Don’t say that like you’re some goddamn weakling,” the blonde goes on. “You’re not. How many times do I have to pound that shit into your head?”

“But you needed me to be unbreakable and I wasn’t,” Ei mumbles. “I wasn’t…”

“But you’re here, aren’t you? You’re still alive, and somehow I am too. You did good, Eijirou. Maybe you had to be unbreakable enough for us to both be safe, but you didn’t have to be perfect about it. You did what you had to do, and I’m really fucking proud of you, got it?”

“...got it,” Eijirou manages through his tears.

Katsuki holds him for a while longer until it’s almost too much to take the stabbing pain throughout his right arm and he’s forced to pull himself back, sniffling as he goes. Tears are smeared all across his face and his head throbs from the emotion.

Katsuki, too, has tears trailing down his pale cheeks. “Fuck,” he mutters, swiping at them again. “What kinda shitty meds do they have me on that keep makin’ me so emotional?” he grumbles.

“You kept grimacing and whimpering while you were unconscious,” Ei tells him, sniffing back the moisture in his nose he can’t wipe away. “So they changed your pain meds and upped the dosage… that seemed to stop your pain. There’re tissues on the counter over there. I’d get em, but…”

“Shit, yeah…” Katsuki swings his legs over the edge of the bed; instinctively Ei wants to reach for him and hold him back.

“Hey hey, don’t stand up too fast, okay? If you pass out ‘m not gonna be able to catch you…”

“I’m fine you idiot.”

And he is; he swipes the tissue box off the counter with ease, not so much as disturbing the cannula or his IV tubes before he plops back down, tugging a tissue from the box that he balances on his knee. Before he even seems to consider himself he’s reaching toward Eijirou, gently drying the moisture on his cheeks and under his nose. The redhead can’t help but laugh.

“What?” Katsuki grumbles.

“Nothin’. Just feels silly that you have to do this for me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Katsuki goes so far as to tuck as much hair as he can behind Ei’s ears to keep it out of his face before wiping his own face and tossing the balled up tissues into the trash.

“So how’re you feeling?” Ei asks.

“Annoyed as fuck that these pain meds are making me cry like a fucking toddler,” Katsuki sighs. “Otherwise fine.”

“...okay, now how are you really feeling?”

“I said fine, Stupid Hair.”

“Yeah, but I know you better than that.”

“I’m not in pain if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But?”

“There’s no but.”

“C’mon, Katsuki. Can you stop being stubborn for once in your life?” If he could, Eijirou would be threading his fingers through the blonde’s, coaxing him to make eye contact.

“That’s a shitty question and you should already know the answer.”

“Okay, you’re right. But I can be stubborn, too. I wanna know.”

“Fine. Breathing’s fucking hard, okay? I had this shitty oxygen whatever the fuck tube thing off for a minute before you woke up and it sucked ass. That’s why that nurse was in here, ‘cause my oxygen levels got really low. It doesn’t hurt but it feels like I’m breathing through one of those tiny ass coffee straws they give you at car dealerships. I don’t wanna wear this bullshit tube but if I take it off it’s gonna feel like that again.”

Eijirou almost wants to smile at the ‘car dealerships’ part, but the strained frown smashed into Katsuki’s features is contagious. And he hates not having the use of his hands because he wants so dearly to be able to comfort the other, and it’s so much harder without them.

“Your lungs,” he says quietly. “They’re the worst… with the whole decay thing, remember? From your last checkup.”

“‘Course I remember,” Katsuki replies just as softly. “That’s where all the blood came from too, right?”

Ei nods slowly, and that’s the last of their conversation before the same nurse as before knocks and quietly cracks the door open.

“Okay if I come in?”

“Yeah,” Eijirou says, maneuvering himself off of the bed and promptly earning an annoyed glare from the blonde in the process.

The nurse is only there for a few minutes, taking note of Katsuki’s vitals and such before unhooking the IV when Katsuki claims he’s starving. He’s handed a menu as the nurse explains how to order.

“Go ahead and get something to eat. The doctor will be in shortly.”

And she is. She confirms everything both of them had already expected—he’ll need more testing as early as tomorrow, and that it’s likely his lungs are twice as worse than his last checkup.

“The exertion and strain on your body has only accelerated the rate of the deterioration,” she says. “There’s a good possibility you’ll need to remain on oxygen for the rest of your life.”

Eijirou expects Katsuki not to reply, and he doesn’t. He eats in silence, too, while the doctor is checking Eijirou’s wrist, snapping off the removable cast they’d left it in. He has to grit his teeth when she moves it even slightly and then confirms again that he’ll need to leave it where it’s at for another few days before he’s allowed to wear a brace and have the use of his hand back.

“In the meantime just let us know when you need any assistance,” she says. “You’re technically not checked in anymore but you’re still under our care.”

“Thanks,” he tells her.

That’s the last thing either of them say before she leaves with a “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

Katsuki doesn’t say much for the rest of the night. They don’t talk about what the doctor had said, and it’s left a giant knot in Eijirou’s stomach. While he wants to talk about it—ask Katsuki if he’s still gonna try and do hero work after this (Eijirou won’t let him), ask how he’s feeling, et cetera—he can’t bring himself to speak of it.

Instead he says, “Hey, Katsuki? Will you do me a favor and tie my hair back?”

Katsuki nods. “C’mere. You got a hair band?”

“In my pocket.”

Katsuki slips the black tie from Ei’s pocket as he sits down in front of him. Eijirou can’t tell if the other’s hands are shaky or if he’s imagining things while his fingers pull gently through his hair before tying it up on the back of his head.

“Your roots are showing,” Katsuki says.

“I know,” Ei sighs. “Not much I can do about it now, though.”

“Don’t do anything with it.”

Ei turns, frowning in confusion. “Huh?”

“Leave it. Grow it out.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it’d look good.” Before Ei can question him again, Katsuki cuts in and continues. “I had a dream… while I was passed out or whatever. Your hair was long. And not all red. I fuckin’ liked it.”

Eijirou relaxes. “Yeah? But if I grow it out it’ll be too long to put up.”

“So don’t put it up, genius.”

“But—“

“Your damn hair doesn’t make you Red Riot, Eijirou.”

“...I guess you’re right,” Ei says with relent. “You really want me to?”

“Yeah, idiot, or I wouldn’t have said it.”

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

But there wasn’t much to think about. How could Eijirou say no, in all honesty? Who knew how much time Katsuki had left at this point? In however long that would be, all Eijirou wanted to do was make him as happy as he could, and if that meant growing out his hair—even if he didn’t particularly want to himself—so be it.

~

The following day is long. Katsuki is… abnormally quiet. Where he’d normally complain through the entirety of the tests they’re making him go through, he hardly says a word. Even when the doctor tells them it’ll be a bit before they’ve got his results and leaves them alone in the room again, he says nothing.

“We should watch TV or somethin’,” Eijirou says. “I’m kinda bored since I can’t use my arms…”

Katsuki punches a few buttons on the remote and the TV mounted on the wall in front of them glows to life. Quietly, Eijirou moves over to sit beside him on the edge of the bed while he flips through channels. He lands on some old cartoon he knows Eijirou is fond of and then tosses the remote aside. There’s nothing but the sound of the television filling the space for a long while; Eijirou finds himself growing sleepy, and eventually Katsuki notices it as well.

“Lay down, idiot,” he mumbles, tugging lightly on Ei’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“How much sleep did you get? Like an hour? ‘Cause you’re all worried about me?”

“Can’t help it, man.”

“‘Kay. Well this time I can actually help you sleep, so lay down,” he repeats.

So Eijirou does, turning onto his side and pinning himself against the other as best he can without pressing too hard on his arms. He feels the same pins of pain he’s getting to used to shoot up to his shoulder and winces.

“Don’t make yourself uncomfortable, idiot.”

“‘M not,” Ei half-lies. “It hurts no matter what I do, so this isn’t different.”

Katsuki sighs. “I’m taking this out,” he warns as he gives a gentle tug on the hair tie keeping Eijirou’s hair pinned back. He does nothing more than hum as the band is removed and hair falls easily around his neck and shoulders; his eyes are already closed by the time it does.

“Think we’ll get in trouble?” Ei has half the mind to mumble, already half asleep.

“Don’t give a fuck.”

Eijirou lets himself laugh a little, glad Katsuki sounds at least a little more like himself now, before letting himself drift off.

~

Katsuki’s room is filled with visitors over the next several days, after they’ve been given the results of the shitty tests they made him go through that only confirmed their suspicions about the rate of decay within his body. All Might, Deku, Todoroki, Kaminari, Sero, Mina, and even Aizawa all make appearances at one point or another; they don’t leave him shit, and he’s glad to know they know him well enough to get that he doesn’t want their shitty ‘condolences’ gifts or whatever. Later he realized Ei must’ve told them, but either way, he doesn’t need the window sill filled with stupid flowers.

Eijirou continues to sleep on the brick of a hospital bed with him. After the staff discovered them that way, they made an exception.

“He rarely slept while you were still unconscious, said he struggles with anxiety-induced insomnia. If being beside you helps him sleep, I think we can make an exception so he gets his rest and keeps up his strength so he can heal.”

Katsuki couldn’t agree more, and he’d been prepared to raise hell if they were gonna bitch at him about it.

Once while Ei is asleep beside him, Deku and Kaminari show up, and though they start to leave the instant they see Eijirou, Katsuki hisses for them to get their asses back there before he interrogates them.

“Tell me what happened after I passed out,” he says. “Where’d you find us?”

The idiots exchange a look before Deku speaks up. “We found him broken and bloody with you in his lap. The villains were nowhere to be seen… he said they were called back, and that he was lucky because he doesn’t think he could’ve won against them all at once. But he was trying so hard to get you out of there even though he had broken bones and was bruised and bloody and on the verge of passing out himself. He was prepared to drag you by the teeth if he had to.”

“Of fucking course he was…”

Katsuki couldn’t be surprised, and he knew damn well that had the situation been reversed he’d have done the exact same damn thing. He can only be grateful that the outcome hadn’t turned out worse.

~

It’s the following day when All Might and Aizawa show up together while Ei is downstairs with Deku and Kaminari for lunch. It’s pretty much the usual shit at first—how he’s feeling, how bad the shit eating away at his insides is, if he’s still going to continue hero work when he’s released. And he gives the usual, sugar-coated answers: ‘fine,’ ‘eh,’ and ‘I don’t know.’ He expects the usual answers of nodding heads and virtual expressionlessness of not knowing what to say, so it’s a little surprising when All Might speaks up.

“Don’t,” he says. “In regards to resuming hero work. You shouldn’t. And I’m not saying that as the teacher of a former student of mine, or even as a friend. I’m saying it as an ex hero myself from a standpoint of knowing what it’s like to be in your position. You already know it’s unimaginably hard to work in such a dire condition, especially when you’re trying to keep it a secret from the world.

“I’m not saying I regret continuing my work with the injuries and hardships I had. The difference between the two of us, however, is that my wound wasn’t a death sentence, nor did I have someone so close to me who truly, desperately needed me.”

Katsuki’s hands tighten around the sheets. “You mean Ei.”

“Indeed.”

Katsuki damn well knows. And having it come from All Might—the hero he’s looked up to since he was just a child—makes it seem all that much more real. He’s already hurt Eijirou enough these past months, but it’s hard—almost impossible—to think about giving up on the dream he’s had since he was a freaking toddler. He’s torn straight down the middle. Even though down to his core he knows the choice is obvious, how the hell is he supposed to give up his lifelong dream, just like that?

“...how’s shit with the public, anyway? My name’s probably all over the news, right?” he mumbles to change the subject.

It’s Aizawa who answers. “Yeah. Needless to say, your condition is hardly a secret to the media anymore. They don’t know the extent of it, but they know you’re in the hospital again, and theories are sprouting up all over the place. Still, you’ve got a lot of public support. In fact there’s a box of letters and things fans have been sending you down in the lobby. We figured we’d leave it there since you’re not big on the whole sympathy gift idea.”

Katsuki grits his teeth against the sudden flurry of fucking feeling . He is two fucking seconds away from telling the nurse to change his damn pain meds. Even though they’d switched him over to the pill form since removing his IV, whatever was in that shit was still making him stupidly emotional. Just knowing people were sending him shit had his throat closing  and his eyes stinging with emotion.

Why the fuck was there a box of shit from people? Why ? He never gave a shit about being popular—he just wanted to work his way to being number one. It didn’t bother him whether people liked him or not. So why the hell did he actually care that there was stuff down there waiting for him?

Yet this was one thing he couldn’t be sure the meds were responsible for…

The door clicked open and the two losers reentered followed by Eijirou when Aizawa was continuing. “Recovery Girl has been brought up to speed about everything, too. She saw the news and called demanding to know. Said something about feeling too far away from everyone.”

“Recovery Girl knows he’s dying?” Deku piped up as Ei sat himself down on the bed beside Katsuki.

“She does.”

“Is she coming to try and help?”

“We don’t know,” All Might says. “We haven’t specifically asked her to come, but it wouldn’t be unlike her to act on her own. If you want, we can call her and—“

“Don’t.”

Eijirou turns, frowning. “Why not, Katsuki?” His dumb eyes are swimming with desperation when he says it, and that feeling is mirrored in the twisting of Katsuki’s gut but for a completely different reason.

“You said it yourself.” Katsuki’s speaking to Aizawa; he reluctantly meets his bloodshot eyes. “We shouldn’t rely on her Quirk so much and just assume she’ll be there when we make reckless decisions.”

Eraser’s eyes narrow. “That was years ago, and when the decision you made was reckless,” he counters. “This was an act of heroism both times. You’re only twenty-three, Bakugou. It would be completely fair if you called upon her help—“

“I’m not going to.” Katuski speaks through a stiff jaw; every single set of eyes are fixed right on him while his own are cut to the left, stubbornly set somewhere out the window. “It’s not going to change a damn thing.”

“You don’t know that, Katsuki,” Eijirou says. Strained—he’s so strained, so distraught. And it almost, almost breaks Katsuki into agreeing if only it would erase that feeling. “Her Quirk is really powerful. She might be able—“

“There’s no erasing this shit, Eijirou. Even if she could heal some of the damage, she can’t get rid of this radioactive poisoning shit, so I’ll just end up right back here in six months. So there’s no point.”

“Katsu—”

“Just fucking drop it. If you want her to come so she can heal you, fine. But I’ve made my decision.”

And he had. Even if it hurt to say it and it left an absolutely wrecked look on Eijirou’s beautiful fucking face, Katsuki had made mistakes. He’d been weak. And he knew there was no coming back from that.

Chapter Text

Letters. Gifts. Colorful envelopes are spread out in front of Katsuki on the bed. There are so many they overlap each other in a messy array. Some are store bought cards, others handwritten. There are drawings and coloring sheets from little kids. Small, miscellaneous items throughout. So much he can’t even count.

As Katsuki sits and stares at the colorful mess, he can’t help but wonder why the hell he wanted to see these in the first place. He had to have fucking known they’d trigger some shitty emotional response with these goddamn meds they have him on.

The sound of the door opening startles him out of his staring. Eijirou walks in—without his typical smile, Katsuki notes—and gently presses the door shut behind him. When their eyes meet he holds up his left arm, now enclosed in a hard plastic brace rather than a cast.

“No more cast on this one,” he says. “I can finally use my hand again.” He shuffles toward the other. “I also asked when you might be able to go home. She said another day or so, ‘cause your body’s still recuperating from what happened and they also have to get your prescription for oxygen in order…” He trails off quietly when the look on Katsuki’s face registers —his eyes are dull and his eyebrows are pressed together in a subtle frown. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“...’s nothing,” Katsuki replies quietly.

“You’re not in pain, are you?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” Ei presses—gently, he makes sure.

“I told you it’s nothing,” says the other, more firmly this time. But Eijirou doesn’t miss the crack in his voice, subtle as it is. He makes his way around the bed and reaches for Katsuki’s hand, and while it’s something of a relief to finally feel those warm fingers slide between his again after nearly two weeks of being without it, his worry has spiked.

“C’mon, man, you know I know that’s a load of crap,” he tells Katsuki. “‘S not gonna help you if you just hold it all in, y’know? You should know from experience.”

While Katsuki relaxes, he still hesitates. His frown deepens and the muscles of his jaw flex and relax a few times. “You’re gonna think it’s fucking stupid,” he says finally. “Especially after what I said the other day… about not wanting to ask for Recovery Girl’s help.”

“Katsuki, if you know me at all you know I’m not gonna think it’s stupid.”

A long, slow breath releases from Katsuki’s nose. “...honestly? I’m scared, Ei,” he admits in a rough voice. “I only have so much time left… and who the hell knows how painful it’s gonna get?” He pauses, swallows a few times. “And I don’t even know how long. I heard ‘em say something about less than a year…”

In an instant, Eijirou feels his stomach drop. Despite the shooting pins of pain through his wrist, he tightens his grip on Katuski’s hand. For a moment there’s no sound but the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, counting down those precious, precious seconds.

Less than a year . Ei hadn’t heard that. He’d been too afraid to ask.

“‘M not even gonna make it to my twenty-fourth fucking birthday. And I’m sure as fuck not gonna make it to yours. And fucking hell—I haven’t even done anything yet.” He shakes his head, cards his free hand through his hair. “I’ve only been a hero for five stupid years. I’m not strong enough to help stop these new League bastards. I’m fucking nothing anymore. And I’m gonna die that way, too.”

“Stop, Katsuki.” Eijirou can’t help the desperation seeping into his voice. “You’re not nothing. You’ve never been nothing. You know that, man.” He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. “You’re fucking everything to me, Katsuki. Everything . And—and I’m scared, too, ya know? Scared of losing you.” The hitch in his breathing is inevitable, and he hates that the tears are right around the corner. He’s so sick of crying… “Which—which is why I wanted you to see Recovery Girl.”

“...I know, Ei. Fuck, don’t cry, you idiot. Please .” Katsuki reaches for the other, but his warm palm pressing to Eijirou’s cheek is too late; the tears have already spilled over. “Dammit, Eijirou.” His thumb swipes at the moisture.

“Sorry, man,” Ei mumbles. “‘S just… super hard to watch someone you love go through all this. And shit, that sounds so selfish ‘cause I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling, being the one going through it.”

“It fucking sucks,” Katsuki tells him. “Ass. Death staring you in the face is fucking terrifying.”

Eijirou’s lashes flutter and more tears well over. It’s one thing knowing it— hearing it is a whole different ball game.

“Heh… guess even someone as damn strong as you is scared of death, huh?” he finds himself saying.

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a minute; his burning eyes only gaze despairingly into Eijirou’s. Ei doesn’t even think he realizes it, but his thumb is gently stroking over his cheekbone over and over. It’s a featherlight touch, but one Eijirou can feel down to the bone.

“...yeah, guess I am,” is all he says when he finally does respond. In the next second, cool air washes over Eijirou’s cheek when Katsuki removes his hand. The other pulls out of Ei’s as well, and he starts piling up all of the envelopes spread out on his bed to put back in the box.

“What kinda stuff did you get?” Ei asks when he can hardly stand the heavy silence left between them anymore.

“Letters, mostly. Lots of little kids drew pictures and stuff.”

“Get well letters?” Ei can’t help but smile a bit.

“Yeah.”

His smile widens only to vanish a second later in realization that Katsuki might never get better. The weight in his chest only grows heavier, but he forces himself to keep a straight face, to push back any more of those impending emotions that leave his stomach in knots and his eyes dry and itchy when the tears have subsided. Katsuki needs him to be strong. Needs him to be unbreakable. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself crack again, even if on the inside he’s completely shattered.

~

“You two have a visitor,” Aizawa tells them the next morning after he’s sauntered in the room, hands resting in his pockets. “She said she wanted to see you, regardless of what you said.”

Katsuki and Eijirou only have a split second to frown in confusion before the door reopens behind him, and in strides none other than Recovery Girl herself, warm smile, cane and all.

“Good morning, boys,” she says fondly as she saunters right up to Bakugou’s bedside, Aizawa trailing slowly behind her. “I heard you two have gotten yourselves into a bit of a predicament.”

“Um… hey, Recovery Girl,” Ei says, a bit sheepish past his surprise. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Oh please, I can tell just by looking at you,” she replies. “And you, especially,” she says pointedly to Katsuki. “I heard you were refusing to call upon my help for your condition.”

“Yeah. Was also trying to keep this shit on the down low, but apparently that’s impossible,” mutters Katsuki, his words very clearly directed at Aizawa though his gaze remains away from him.

“You should know by now it’s painfully difficult to keep things like this away from the media, being a hero and all,” Recovery Girl tells him. “But I’m here whether you like it or not. It felt terribly wrong to sit idly by while a couple of ex-students who I helped on multiple occasions were in such a dire situation, and I’m glad I came because it looks like it’s worse than I thought.”

Eijirou practically lurches forward. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“There’s been no official report to the media so I only knew as much as the media had to offer, and then what little Aizawa offered up.”

Instinctively Katsuki turns his glare on Aizawa, who’s less than fazed by it. “She’s an ex-teacher of UA. She deserved to know as much as any of the rest of us did,” he says blandly.

“That wasn’t your decision to make,” Katsuki practically hisses.

“Seeing you now, though, has made it clear,” Recovery Girl goes on as if neither of them have spoken. “Your body is in shambles.”

Katsuki instantly feels himself stiffen, but his eyes cut away from her. They stay away from any other pair in the room only to lock onto the box of letters over on the counter.

“I knew that,” he mutters. “Radioactivity or whatever it is is a bitch. So you can just heal Ei up and be on your way.”

“It’s more than simple radioactive poisoning. I think it’s more specific than that—more specific to the Quirk of the one who injured you. However, yes, it makes sense that they would call it that because of the way it’s attacking and damaging you on the inside.”

“You can see that?” Ei breathes in astonishment.

“I’ve always been able to see things like that,” she responds. “Most of the time injuries are fairly straightforward, though, and I’ve never needed to display this aspect of my Quirk while working with many of you at UA.”

“So can you heal it?”

Eijirou sounds gut-wrenchingly hopeful. Katsuki’s throat is closing up.

“I’m not entirely sure, yet. The damage it’s inflicted is, indeed, repairable… however the poisoning, for lack of a better word, is questionable. I’ll need more time and some hands on experience before—“

“No,” Katsuki growls. “No. I already fucking told you I didn’t want help. Sorry you wasted a trip, but I made up my mind about it a long time ago.”

A heavy, tense silence follows; Katsuki knows all eyes are on him so he keeps his jaw set, his shoulders squared, while he waits for the retaliation. And the one he expects to speak first is Eijirou, and he does, but he doesn’t say what Katsuki anticipates.

“Would you guys… mind giving us a little time alone?” he asks softly; the tone of his voice practically forces Katsuki to look at him, and his shitty heart breaks when he does.

“Of course,” Aizawa says. “We’ll come back in ten.”

“Thank you.”

Eijirou is not smiling. His eyes don’t even portray the hint of the optimism Katsuki’s used to seeing there.

As soon as the door is shut, Eijirou stands up and plants himself on the bed right in front of the other, so many emotions swimming in his eyes that Katsuki can’t even begin to keep track of.

“...I don’t know what you want me to say, Ei.”

“I just want you to tell me why you’re punishing yourself like this.”

“It’s not a punishment.”

“Bullshit.” The word is like a knife, lodging itself right into the center of Katsuki’s chest. It’s hard, and not Eijirou at all. “I know you, Katsuki. You’re doing that thing where you’re being way too hard on yourself again, and you’re trying to keep it to yourself. But I know better, and I’m not gonna let it go this time.” The blow is softened a little—but only a little—when Ei’s fingers find his and pry them open from the tight fist they’d been trapped in. “Please just tell me why you’re doing this to yourself.”

Katsuki pauses. Lets himself pull in a deep breath, lets the burning in his lungs as he does so ground him. It doesn’t negate the frustration, though it helps.

“Because if I got hurt so damn bad in the first place, I don’t fucking deserve to be healed,” he grits out. “And then I was stupid enough to push myself and got you hurt in the process.”

Eijirou is shaking his head before Katsuki has even finished. “It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault. And we all make mistakes. Think about All Might, man! He was the number one freakin’ hero, and not even he came out of every battle unscathed. And you remember some of the stories, right? There have been people he wasn’t able to save, too. People he cared about got hurt, and there was nothing he could do. He just went out there and did the best he could. He kept smiling, and he accepted help when he needed it. The… the only person who thinks you don’t deserve help is you, Katsuki.”

“...what’s your point, Eijirou?”

“Are you telling me you don’t even wanna try and be saved from this? She already said she could heal what damage is already done… what if she can cure you completely? You don’t even wanna give it a shot?”

“I don’t fucking know,” grumbles Katsuki.

“Then… I guess I gotta ask the deeper question here,” Ei murmurs, the corners of his eyes wrinkled and his forehead furrowed between his brows in a deep-set frown.

“What question?”

“There’s not… some reason you want to die, is there?”

Katsuki should’ve known something like that was coming, but it leaves a pang nonetheless, and he doesn’t know how much more of this shitty emotional pain he can take.

“... no , you idiot.” he grits out. “My brain is just... a fucking mess. I don’t even know how the fuck I feel.”

“That’s okay, Katsuki. ‘S okay to be confused and upset. I definitely am.” Even like this, Eijirou tries to smile… but it’s so broken , and that’s when it hits Katsuki.

He’s been so damn caught up in himself and his own pain, dwelling on the fact that he’d been too weak and let himself end up in this position, on the inevitability of his own impending demise that would cause him to leave this beautiful bastard probably fifty years too soon, that he hasn’t even considered the other side. Hasn’t opened his mind to what Eijirou must be going through on the inside while trying to remain strong— unbreakable— on the outside.

He’s known Eijirou is torn up about it, known that the idiot would trade places with him in the blink of an eye if he could… but Katsuki hasn’t even thought about how the future must seem to him now. They’d been planning, talking about it for years , even if some of what they’d prattled on about were only pipe dreams. There was never any question about whether or not they’d spend the damn future together —it was always a yes. A strong, impenetrable yes .

And now Katsuki’s future was erased, and Eijirou’s could only look terrifyingly bleak, if only for the time being.

“I… I didn’t want it to come to this, Katsuki,” Eijirou murmurs in a voice so small, so fragile, that Katsuki knows he feels his heart shatter. Tears are already rolling their way down those pinkened cheeks. “I didn’t… wanna be selfish about any of this, ever… but… please Katsuki. Please let her heal you. Give… give me a little more time, okay? Just—just a little.” The tears have dripped from his chin, leaving little dark marks on the front of his shirt. “It shouldn’t be about me, but I… I can’t , man…” The emotion takes over his voice, rendering him unable to speak coherently any longer. It’s as he’s lifting his hand to swipe at his tears when Katsuki pulls him forward and wraps him in his arms as tight as he dares.

Just as he feels Eijirou sink into him, his one good arm hooking around Katsuki’s ribs as though he’s holding on for dear life, Katsuki feels himself give in. Physically, tension he didn’t even know he’d been holding seeps out of his muscles; the stubborn, adamant feeling he’d had an iron grip on turns to liquid and swirls away.

“Okay, Ei. Okay,” he murmurs into those soft red locks. “I’ll do it.”

When he looks up it’s clear that words fail Eijirou, though he somehow manages a smile beyond his tears. He needn’t speak, though—his kiss says all Katsuki needs to know.

~

It’s seemed like ages since Katsuki felt so damn strong . When he resurfaces to consciousness, he has no idea how long it’s been, but with how damn well-rested he feels, he can’t bring himself to give a shit. An entire year could’ve passed and he knows he won’t be able to bring himself to care. He swears he can’t feel any damn better, even if he’s still tired, until the sensation of a sweet, familiar kind of warmth registers and puts the icing on the cake.

In the moment he feels so fucking refreshed that he doesn’t even have the desire to open his eyes. The brick of a hospital bed is still prominent beneath him, but that’s insignificant in comparison to everything else . So he soaks in the moment, and enjoys every damn second of it.

And when he does open his eyes, much to his pleasure, Eijirou’s fucking gorgeous sleeping face is the first thing he sees. It’s breathtaking, even if it is at an odd angle from where the other is using his shoulder as a pillow. Automatically his hand comes up to tangle through those faded red locks as he looks Ei over.

His casts are gone, which is the first thing of note. His left arm is draped across Katsuki’s waist, his right—the one that’d been shattered—buried somewhere between them. The bruise around his eye looks much the same as it had before Katsuki had passed out, and scrapes and bruises still litter his skin where it’s visible. Still, he looks worlds healthier. The soft glow of his skin is back; his breathing is soft and even, no longer hitching or causing him to wince due to the pain in his ribs. He… looks like Eijirou again. Katsuki will never admit it, but his heart warms at the sight.

Inevitably, though, he has to fucking pee, and bad , which requires waking the sleeping loser up.

“Ei,” he mumbles, finding the hoarseness that’d been present in his voice before to be completely gone. “Hey. Eijirou,” he says, louder this time, ruffling the other’s hair. “C’mon, asshole, wake up. I gotta piss.”

Eijirou barely stirs, and when he does his arm only tightens around Katsuki, which earns a frustrated sigh. “Fuck, you’re such a lump,” he grumbles. Shakes Ei’s shoulder. “Wake the fuck up before I give you a wet willy.”

And when the other still doesn’t really budge, Katsuki doesn’t know if he should be annoyed or worried. Ei never sleeps this heavily, and he sure as fuck hasn’t been sleeping heavily at all since Katsuki got injured. So Katsuki uses the wet willy threat as a last resort and does it anyway, though he had no real intention of actually doing it to begin with.

Eijirou springs up like a jack in the box, a hand slapping over his left ear as a gasp sucks in through his lips. “Wha, what the…?!” he mumbles in sleepy surprise, twisting around toward his boyfriend. “Katsuki?”

“‘Bout damn time you woke up.” Katsuki sits up, too.

“Did you give me a wet willy?!”

“Yup. I have to piss. Bad. And you were laying on me.”

One of the most adorable, sleepy pouts Katsuki’s ever seen presses into Eijirou’s face. “Jeesh, you could’ve been more polite about it.”

“I was, but you weren’t waking up.”

“...really?”

Katsuki nods, the mild amusement from Ei’s sudden startlement quickly fading at the look of slight shock on the other’s face. “‘S probably just because getting healed took up all your energy.”

“Yeah, guess it must be,” Ei mumbles, but he still doesn’t look thoroughly convinced. “It is nice to finally be able to use my arms again, though.” His eyes trail down Katsuki and then back up. “And… wow, I’m glad you look more like yourself again,” he says a bit breathlessly. Hope swirls into his irises as his hand comes up to Katsuki’s face, his fingertips just gently brushing his cheekbone. “I never realized how freaking pale you were…” he murmurs. “And cold.”

“Cold? The hell d’you mean?”

Eijirou doesn’t pull his hand away and in fact gently allows his palm to come to rest against the curve of Katsuki’s cheek. “You’d been cold the whole time. Or you felt like it, anyway. Like, your skin was always a few degrees cooler than mine whenever I touched you, which is weird considering your Quirk and how ‘s usually the opposite.”

“That is weird, ‘cause I always felt so fucking hot.”

“D’you feel that way now?”

Katsuki shakes his head. “Nope. I feel like my damn self again.”

A smile finally graces Eijirou’s features. “Glad to hear it, babe.”

As much as he doesn’t want to, Katsuki reaches up and removes Ei’s hand from his face. “Me too, but I seriously have to fucking piss,” he says.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Ei laughs, retracting his hand and moving to let Katsuki stand up. As soon as Katsuki’s feet are on the ground he stands, only to find he has unsteady knees and nearly topples over were it not for Eijirou behind him with quick reflexes, reaching out to steady him by the waist.

“Holy shit,” Katsuki huffs.

“Don’t rush, man,” Ei tells him.

“If I don’t ‘m gonna piss myself.”

“Yeah, but you know how much Recovery Girl’s quirk drains you. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks. Now lemme go.”

Ei’s hands slip from Katsuki’s waist and he wastes no time slipping into the bathroom.

Eijirou takes a minute to stretch himself out, seriously grateful for the use of his arms again. And when he stands up to get the blood flowing in his legs again, his knee, too. The mild soreness from the small cuts and bruises that remain is nothing at all and man , does he feel refreshed! Already he’s planning a way to thank Recovery Girl when he sees her again.

“Shit,” comes a mumble from behind him, and he turns to find Katsuki emerging from the bathroom with narrow eyes and a ruffled brow. “Your arm really was fucked up, huh?” He shuffles toward Eijirou, eyes pointed directly at his right arm. Ei glances down at it.

Dark, splotchy bruises still cover the majority of the inner portion of his forearm, and only the edges are starting to yellow and fade.

“Yeah,” he murmurs as Katsuki wraps a warm, gentle hand around his wrist to study the bruises. “Like I said, my radius was kinda shattered… but the bone is all fixed now. This is just what’s left over.”

“How the fuck did that even happen?”

“Ran outta stamina so I just had my fists hardened. One of the villains with some sorta iron strength quirk grabbed my arm and squeezed when he threw me to the ground… which is also how I hurt my shoulder…” Eijirou shrugs. “It’s fine now, though, and it coulda been worse.”

“...I’ll fucking kill them,” Katsuki hisses under his breath.

Just as Ei is about to tell him it’s really no big deal because he really doesn’t want him going after those villains again—not after all this—a knock sounds at the door and cuts him off. Without waiting for an invitation, it swings open and a head of long, dark hair pokes in.

“It’s about time you two woke up,” Aizawa says, letting himself in the rest of the way, followed by Recovery Girl and a nurse from earlier.

“What time is it?” Eijirou mumbles, seeking out a clock. The one on the wall reads just after seven in the evening, which explains the warm, orange light of a sunset filtering into the room and casting long shadows.

“We slept all damn day,” Katsuki mutters.

“And for good reason,” says Recovery Girl. “Healing you required a pretty profound amount of your energy. Both of you. In fact I’d be surprised if either of you feel one hundred percent right away.”

“Really? I feel fantastic,” Katsuki says.

“In comparison to before, I’m sure that’s true, but I still advise you take it easy. You aren’t completely cured.”

Instantly, Eijirou’s face falls, but this comes as no surprise to Katsuki. He feels fucking amazing, and yet a hunch that’s been on his shoulder since waking up has been telling him it wasn’t so easy—he knew all of the shit he’s been through these past months can’t be cured just like that.

“You may want to sit back down,” Aizawa says, moving around the bed and taking a seat himself. Recovery Girl follows his lead.

Together, Eijirou and Katsuki arrange themselves back on the bed, Katsuki at the head and Ei at the end. Automatically their hands intertwine between them, and Recovery Girl takes a breath. She speaks to Katsuki first.

“All of the damage the radioactive decay from the poison within you has caused has been fully reversed, back to the second it became part of you,” she explains. “Unfortunately, I’m not able to remove the poison itself. My Quirk only speeds up the healing process of the body, so it was able to overcome the current state of decay… however, your body has no defense mechanism against the venom, so in a sense there’s nothing there for my Quirk to speed up. The likely reason you’ve been so tired is because your body is constantly attempting to repair the damage left in the wake of the decay but it’s unable to keep up and expends vast amounts of energy into just that.

“I’m also afraid to say it, but I believe this healing was a one time thing because of that. If I were to try and do it again, I’m not confident your body, even as strong as it is, would be able to handle it and you would likely go into shock and you would probably fall into a coma, and that’s only if it doesn’t take your life.”

Eijirou’s hand is tight in Katsuki’s, and he can’t be surprised the news has affected him more than Katsuki himself. He’d had too much hope—hope Katsuki wanted to have but was too much of a fucking realist to let himself believe he’s somehow been granted a second chance at life.

As if hearing his thoughts, Recovery Girl goes on, “You’ve been given a second chance at the last few years of your life. I advise you not to waste them.”

He knows what she means, and it fucking kills him. No more hero work. He knows it, has known it, and yet he still hates it more than he thought he would. But he can’t do it—not anymore. Not like this. He can’t end up here again, the same way he was or worse, and hurt Eijirou the way he had again. Nothing is worth that, not even the shitty reputation he’d somehow cared about so much.

“As for you,” Recovery Girl continues to Ei when they haven’t said anything, “I simply healed the broken bones, your concussion, your knee, and your shoulder. Because that took up so much of your energy, I left the minor things to heal on their own, such as your cuts and bruises. They should heal themselves in no time once you recover the rest of your energy.”

Ei manages a small nod. “Thank you,” he says; the enthusiasm he felt just minutes ago from having the use of his arms back has been drained away, and as much as he wants to do more to thank her than say it, he can’t.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Aizawa says, rising to his feet. “There’s no reason to keep you here anymore, so they’ll probably want to get discharge paperwork started. You’ll likely get to go home before the end of the day.”

The two nod. Recovery Girl follows Aizawa back to the door, too, saying she plans to make the rounds through the hospital to do some healing.

“I’m glad you two are okay. Don’t let the health you have go to waste,” she says pointedly. She’s there just long enough for them to thank her again, and then she’s gone.

The doctor does start on Katsuki’s discharge paperwork as soon as she sees them up and about, practically good as new. There isn’t much to get ready to go home once she’s gone, so they find themselves sitting on the bed again, legs crossed and facing each other.

And Eijirou, in the silence that’s held up since the doctor left, can’t help letting go of the question on his tongue.

“...are you gonna continue working?”

Katsuki can’t bring himself to look at him. Makes himself swallow around the uneasy feeling in his throat.

“I get it if you want to,” Ei goes on. “And you know I’ll back you up if you decide to. But don’t think I’m not gonna beg you not to—“

“I’m not going to,” Katsuki cuts in. “I decided that before I let her heal me. It fucking sucks, but I can’t make myself put you through that shit again…” Absently his fingers trail up to Eijirou’s arm, where it’s covered in bruises. His eyes flick up to where the bruise splotched over his eye is yellowing. “It’s not worth you getting hurt again.”

“...you know I don’t regret protecting you, right?”

“Yeah, idiot. I know.”

The smallest yet saddest of smiles graces Ei’s face. “I know you wanted to make your way to number one,” he says lightly. “I wish I could’ve helped you do it, too.”

“...shut up, you idiot,” Katsuki mutters. “Not everything goes as planned. Don’t go blaming yourself for that bullshit or I’m gonna haunt your ass until you join me.”

Somehow that makes Eijirou huff a laugh, and the sadness drains out of his smile, leaving it genuine and transforming into that big, dumb, joyful one Katsuki adores. He can’t help reaching up to cup the idiot’s chin and tilt his head upward.

“C’mere, you adorable little fuck,” he murmurs, leaning forward and taking those soft pink lips for his own.

Eijirou’s eyes flutter shut and he sinks into him easily, sliding his hand back to slip his fingers between the other’s. He’s filled with warmth as he lets Katsuki just kiss him, and that’s it. Somehow, that small thing alone—something they’ve done hundreds upon hundreds of times in the past—is all he needs to reassure him. Things will be okay… for now. He doesn’t have to think too far ahead into the future. Despite the underlying knowledge that the time he has left with this freaking amazing man is so much more limited than before, things feel okay. For now, he’s okay. They’re okay.

And Katsuki feels the same. He feel so much better . Compared to hours ago he feels like he could go out and conquer the whole goddamn world for his own, and yet as fucking cheesy as it is, he knows his whole goddamn world is right here in front of him. He’s dead set on making whatever time he has left count with him, no matter what.

“Hey,” Ei murmurs against his lips just before pulling away, his eyes reopening and revealing the newfound happiness from their kiss. “Do me a favor?”

“What?”

He pulls his hand away to tug the hair tie from around his wrist and holds it out. “Pull my hair back?”

Immediately, Katsuki’s face twists into a scowl. “You got your hands back, why can’t you do it?”

“‘Cause I like it when you do it, babe,” Ei says without even a sliver of shame. “Please?”

With a mild, only half irritated sigh, Katsuki takes the dumb hair tie from Eijirou’s fingers and says, “Turn around.”

Ei complies easily, quickly swiveling and backing himself up to Katsuki’s legs. As soon as Katsuki’s fingers start tugging gently through his hair, goosebumps rise all down his back and arms and he grins lightly.

Katsuki takes his time, noting how his hair has already grown down past his shoulders, just an inch or two shy of being midway between his shoulder blades. His roots are dark, several inches of black hair showing itself, and the red throughout the rest of it has faded more than Ei has ever let it. His hair’s always grown pretty fast…

Eijirou himself is lost in thought when he feels something warm press to the back of his left shoulder, Katsuki’s hand stilled as his fingers are tangled in Ei’s hair. As best he can, he glances back to find Katsuki’s head resting down on his shoulder.

“Katsuki? Are you—“

“Fucking marry me,” Katsuki interrupts suddenly.

Eijirou immediately stiffens. Had he heard that right…? “...what?” he mumbles.

Katsuki’s head lifts, his hand loosening enough to let Ei turn his head enough to clearly see his eyes—eyes that are suddenly on fire , and so much like the strong, obstinate Katsuki that Eijirou has always known, always loved .

“I said marry me,” he repeats.

“Right…” Eijirou suddenly can’t find his voice, and it’s difficult forcing himself to swallow through a dry throat. “But… you said—“

“I know what I said. I changed my mind.”

Eijirou can’t help but swivel himself back around a bit, his eyes searching—and searching hard—for a hint of doubt within them. But he finds none. Katsuki’s as sure of this as he’s ever been of anything. The absolute certainty held on his face reminds him of his stubborn pursuit of becoming a pro hero, and then rising in the ranks until he made number one before this whole mess took over and changed their lives forever. His stomach immediately fills with butterflies.

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me like an idiot?” Katsuki asks, a small frown beginning to press into his forehead. “‘Cause if you changed your mind, too, it’s f—“

“Are you kidding? Of course I haven’t changed my mind, babe,” Eijirou says, beaming. “Hell yes, I’ll marry you!” His arms are sliding around Katsuki’s neck before the other has much time to react, though he returns the embrace with ease.

“...good, ‘cause I’d have to kick your ass if you said no after all that bullshit,” he mutters.

“I’d be the biggest idiot on Earth if I said no, man,” Eijirou tells him with a slight laugh. Tears are stinging in his eyes, but he can’t stop smiling . “I love you.”

“You are an idiot, for the record,” Katsuki murmurs. “But I guess I love you, too.”

Eijirou just laughs into their kiss until Katsuki doesn’t allow him any room to anymore.

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s ‘sudden’ retirement from being a pro hero shakes the media more than they’d expected. After a single interview—one that Eijirou accompanies him on and he decides to keep hold of his hand throughout since they both made the decision to let their relationship be known to the world—headlines start popping up all over. His face is on their television more than it had ever been before, and it’s not long before theories and rumors surface, too.

In the same interview, Eijirou makes it known he’ll be taking an indefinite hiatus from his work as Red Riot to spend however long he had left with Katsuki, with Katsuki .

After about a week, they stop paying attention to the media. Their situation would soon be rendered old news, anyway, once shadowed over by something else the world would move onto gossiping about.

Instead, they focus on planning. Eijirou, of course, wants to get married as soon as possible, and Katsuki can’t help but let him plan it for a little more than a month away from when he’s released from the hospital. The whole situation hasn’t sunk in for him the way it has for Eijirou; while he knows, damn does he know that his life is going to come to a close so much sooner than anyone expected, it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. And yet Eijirou is acutely aware of it. It’s so like him to want to make the absolute most of every moment to the point where even Katsuki has to tell him to chill.

“Ei, listen,” he’d said, almost having to force the words out because he knew how fragile Eijirou’s feelings could be. “I fucking love you, got it? But don’t… don’t act or treat me like I’m dying. Just be normal, ‘cause if you’re trying to do something special every second of every day you’re gonna exhaust both of us. Just be with me. You should’ve figured out by now that that’s all I care about.”

And though Eijirou’s responding smile held that sadness that Katsuki hated that he was growing accustomed to, he’d conveyed his understanding with an apology that made Katsuki feel so stupidly guilty he couldn't help but pull the idiot into his arms for an embrace that somehow had them end up in their bedroom, clothes strewn about the floor and skin pressed to skin.

~

After a couple weeks of what feels like non-stop fucking planning, planning, planning , Katsuki convinces the idiot to let others in and help. It doesn’t stop him, of course, from spending what, to Katsuki, is too much of his time trying to figure out little details. And eventually not even Katsuki can take his shit anymore.

They’re sitting on the couch one evening and, as usual, Eijirou’s on his phone still looking for shit—probably trying to find the best place to get a cake (even though Sato offered to make it for free hundreds of times), when Katsuki decides he just can’t fucking take it anymore.

“Hey, so d’you wanna—“ Ei begins.

“Stop,” Katsuki interrupts.

“Huh? Hey!” Eijirou complains when the phone is pulled from his hands and discarded somewhere behind Katsuki. “Katsuki—“

“Stop with all the damn wedding shit for once , Ei. You’re givin’ me a damn headache,” Katsuki says as he’s leaning toward the other, whose eyes are wider than usual.

“But we need to—“

Cutting him off again, Katsuki pushes him back into the arm rest behind him, using his mouth to swallow whatever words he was about to say. “Gimme one fucking evening, Hair for Brains,” Katsuki murmurs against him. “Just one damn night with no wedding shit and no planning and blah blah…” he mumbles into another kiss.

Ei laughs quietly against him, gently pushing him back with a hand on his chest. “Okay, okay. Sorry, babe.”

“You should be.” Katsuki tries to kiss him again, but Eijirou dodges, causing his mouth to meet the warmth of Ei’s cheek instead.

“I just wanna make sure it’s perfect, ya know?”

“Hmmph… you’ll be there, so it already is.”

The cheek Katsuki’s lips are still pressed to scrunches up when he smiles. “Y’know, you’re a lot softer than you usually act,” he says, arms finding their way around Katsuki’s waist.

“Only for you. Anyway, what the fuck happened to you being a ‘simple guy’ or whatever? Why’re you making such a big deal outta this?”

By now Katsuki is practically laying on Eijirou, taking the liberty to press kisses to his skin wherever he could reach between words, and somehow it manages to leave goosebumps raising across Eijirou’s skin. His thoughts grow foggy as he melts into Katsuki’s warm touches, his eyes fluttering shut with a hum of delight.

“...hm, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki murmurs, his lips remaining glued to Eijirou’s collarbone.

“...huh?” Ei murmurs. Had… Katsuki asked him something?

He forgets as soon as an incredulous snort sounds from the other. By the time he does, somehow, remember the question, the two of them are already skin on skin and there were surely already bruises forming along his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. He’s lost in the feeling of Katsuki’s warmth and the sound of his labored breathing brushing across his own skin…

Putting aside wedding plans turns out to be… a really good idea. It’s been a good while since Katsuki took control the way he does that night until Eijirou is little more than putty in his hands, and that night he was more than grateful for it.

And for a while—just a little while—everything feels normal as Eijirou curls up against Katsuki’s side, sleepy from the exertion that’d gone on for hours. He’s pushed to the back of his mind their entire situation—the wedding, Katsuki’s condition, all of it. It almost feels like he’ll wake up the next morning, in a cloud of absolute bliss, and have some sort of hero work waiting for him…

It’s a bittersweet feeling when he wakes up enough to realize he doesn’t.

That morning he decides to surprise Katsuki with breakfast. He’s never been particularly good at cooking—that job was usually left to Katsuki himself—but a simple eggs, bacon, and toast breakfast isn’t all that difficult. It’s clear in his eyes when he’s eating that Katsuki appreciates it, too.

“Hey, um… I’m sorry for last night,” Eijirou finds himself saying halfway through the meal. “And for the past few weeks,” he tacks on. “I know I’ve been kinda pushy about all this wedding stuff. I just wanna make sure it’s great, ya know? For you.”

“Don’t apologize, you idiot,” Katsuki mutters. “I get why you’re doin’ it.”

And he does, even if he also finds it somewhat irritating at times. It isn’t that he doesn’t care about the actual wedding/party thing Ei was planning, but when he asked Hair for Brains to marry him, that had honestly been one of the furthest things from his mind.

“So you’re not mad?”

“...does it look like I’m mad? ‘S just that when I asked you to marry me I was thinkin’ more of the marriage part, not really the wedding shit.”

Just like that, Ei softens and his smile returns, just in time to melt Katsuki's friggen heart. “You're right, babe. I should've been thinking of that,” he murmurs. “I want that, too. A marriage.”

“Yeah, but you clearly want the wedding or party or whatever the fuck it is, too, and if that shit's gonna make you happy, no damn way am I stopping you.”

“But Katsuki—”

“I'm serious, Ei.”

And he is, but despite that Eijirou decides to hand over most of what’s left of the work for the party he's been planning to Mina, Kaminari , and Sero. He trusts them plenty and what he wants more than anything now is to spend a special night with the one he loves most, surrounded by his friends and family, and then to spend all the time they he left together, together .

Suddenly, the fact that Katsuki's days are numbered hits him in the face all over again…

~

“Katsuki?” Eijirou whispers to the dark of the room the night before the event. It’s been a while since they laid down to get some sleep, and Eijirou isn’t sure if Katsuki’s still awake.

“Hm?” comes a soft grunt from behind him.

Taking that as all the encouragement he needs, he rolls onto his back and turns his head. His eyes have long since adjusted to the dark of the room, so he can fairly easily make out the features of the other, also lying on his back with his hands folded behind his head. When Eijirou moves, Katsuki’s head swivels, too, and his eyes very faintly catch what little light is sneaking its way in between the blinds from the city.

“I, uh, I have something I want to ask you,” Eijirou murmurs. As much as he’d like to look away, he forces himself to hold his ground.

“‘Kay.”

“...I’ve been really scared to ask up until now, and honestly I’m still kinda nervous.” He punctuates the statement with a half-hearted laugh. “But uhm, I just wanna know what made you change your mind about marrying me?” His voice unintentionally quiets to a whisper near the end, and he does his best to swallow around a suddenly dry throat.

“I kinda figured you’d ask that at some point,” Katsuki says. “‘S ‘cause it was a fucking wake up call when I thought I had less than a year to live.” His head turns back to gaze up at the ceiling. “And then Recovery Girl showed up and healed me and it felt like some shitty second chance that I probably don’t even fucking deserve, but the look on your face made me realize how much of a dick I was being when I refused to let her help me at first. And I guess I wanted to somehow prove that…” His voice is suddenly a bit rough and he shifts a little, slackening the blanket between them. “...that I do really fucking love you.”

“You don’t have to marry me to prove that to me,” Eijirou tells him solemnly. “I already know that.”

“I know. But I want to. ‘Cause it’s gonna make you happy and even though I’d already been plannin’ to spend the rest of my life with you, this feels more… solid, I guess. I dunno. Feels more official? Like a promise or whatever.”

“Is it gonna make you happy, though?” Eijirou asks after a beat of quiet.

“Being with you makes me happy, dumbass. Making you happy makes me happy. So of fucking course it is.”

“Right, but like… without that stuff. Would it still make you happy?”

It takes Katsuki a while to answer, and while the anticipation practically kills Eijirou, he remains as patient as possible, even when he suspects Katsuki isn’t going to answer.

But he does. And when he does, it’s a firm, “Yes.”

Ei is no stranger to the thickness in his voice, and as soon as he hears it he’s maneuvering toward the other and pulling Katsuki into his arms, brushing his thumbs across his cheeks to catch the moisture. It’s not long, though, before his own face is wet and he’s burying it in the fluff of Katsuki’s hair.

He doesn’t know if he cries out of joy or pain. But it has to be somewhere in between, or both. But for once he allows it to be what it is, and so does Katsuki, until both of them are too tired from a long day and their tears and they gradually fall into a comfortable slumber.

~

While they do rent a wedding hall for the event, it was in almost no way traditional. It was only semi-formal and would appear much more like a standard party to anyone who didn’t know better. Most of the people they’d met in high school and since were there, and the large room filled with tables of food, alcohol, flowers, and what Katsuki could only describe as more delicate-looking Christmas lights among them all.

While Eijirou told him he didn’t have to, Mina insisted upon them wearing matching (or at least relatively matching) attire for the whole thing, and when it was clear in Eijirou’s eyes that it was one of those things that was going to make him happy, so Katsuki couldn’t say no. That was why he inevitably finds himself standing in one of the small rooms at the back of the venue tugging on the awkward-feeling red and grey vest they’d found for him last minute and trying to feel at least somewhat comfortable in it. He doesn’t look terrible , and he’s at least glad they didn’t make him do his hair in some fancy-ass way…

For Eijirou. Do it for Eijirou… he continuously tells himself as he works and works for several minutes to erase the irritated scowl on his face.

But it… it’s worth it - more than worth it when he walks out into the main room, feeling slightly shaky but in no way about to admit that to anyone - and sees Eijirou there, in the middle of everything and the crowd that’s gathered around him. He doesn’t really know what it is - what about this is so much different than seeing him on a normal, day to day basis. Doesn’t get why suddenly, somehow , he looks so much more beautiful than usual in Katsuki’s eyes. He's just wearing a suit with a red tie. His hair, having grown out considerably in the last few months, hangs past his shoulders as he’s wearing it down instead of tied back for the first time in weeks. There's a white rose pinned over the left side of his chest to match the ones embroidered on Katsuki's vest. And while the suit does damn well to accent his curves and the musculature of his body (though it's modest), there's also something just… so much brighter about him, which, for Eijirou, is fucking impressive.

And those bright eyes are for Katsuki only, as he steps into the room looking like some sort of freaking prince. Eijirou can feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes, knows that it's gonna be a definite struggle to keep his composure. But damn , Katsuki looks good; add that on top of the fact that they're finally getting married and Eijirou is pretty sure he's never been so emotional in his life, and he's learning just how much self-control he actually has as Katsuki strides toward him at a leisurely pace. While he can't seem to come fast enough, Eijirou appreciates the extra time he has to just look at the other and soak in the infinite amount of love he holds for him, while the rest of the world—the people and room around him—fades to the background.

As soon as Katsuki's within reach, he can't help but tug him straight into his arms and hold tight. It doesn't even matter that he saw Katsuki just a few hours ago or that he's spent years with him. Today he gets to express his love as much and as deeply as he needs, and there's no way he's going to let that go to waste.

The crowd around them applauds as soon as they meet, and the music starts almost immediately after.

The whole event really is more of a party than anything else, what with food and drinks, dancing and a few games going on here and there, a lot of talking and laughing. Eijirou doesn’t move away from Katsuki as they make their way around the room, talking to everyone individually or in groups. To Katsuki’s relief, Eijirou does most of the talking, especially with people Katsuki hardly knows.

None of them say a thing about his condition, either. Though the cat’s been out of the bag for a while and everyone has known for months, they keep their thoughts about it to themselves. He won’t admit it, but Katsuki’s relieved about it.

They spend the longest time talking to Katsuki’s parents, who continuously (and annoyingly) reiterate how ‘proud’ they are of him. How much they love him. How amazing it has been to see him grow into the person he is. Even they don’t say a thing about the radioactive bullshit, but Katsuki knows it’s there—right there under the surface of their words.

What pulls them away from his parents is Mina’s insistence that it’s time for them to sign their marriage license. Eijirou is all smiles as she sits them at a table near the windows that everyone crowds around. It’s only when Katsuki’s put pen to paper to sign the final signature that it hits him—he’s getting married . To Eijirou. And at that point, even he can’t help but smile a real, genuine smile.

...the smile doesn’t last long, though, and Eijirou is quick to notice. From the second they met in the middle of the room there’s been something rather tense about Katsuki, though until that small smile is erased once the papers are signed and the crowd around them erupts into celebration, he’d been trying his best to pretend it was just his imagination. It’s when Katsuki tells him he needs to use the restroom and doesn’t reappear for nearly twenty minutes that he can’t ignore it any longer.

He’s not surprised to find the bathroom vacant of his new husband (a word that sits a little funny in his mind, but manages to give him a pleasant fluttery feeling all the same) when he starts to hunt him down. He avoids the main room altogether, knowing that if something has Katsuki upset the last place he would go is into a room full of people.

In the end he finds him outside on the balcony, and at first he’s eager to walk right up to him and slide his arms around him from behind, to give him soft kisses and try to gently press comfort into him, but the second he sees the way Katsuki is standing—hunched down over the railing, his frame tense—he stops in his tracks. A lump forms in his throat, forcing him to approach slowly, to shuffle his feet along the polished wood of the balcony so Katsuki can hear him coming.

Even still, he doesn’t react. Not until Eijirou is right beside him, allowing their shoulders to brush. His head lifts but, instead of looking at the other, he stares straight across at the lights of the city in front of them.

“‘M fine,” Katsuki says in a somewhat rough baritone.

“Bullshit,” Eijirou murmurs. “I know you don’t like social gatherings and stuff, but you’ve never been this distant. I know you better than that.”

Katsuki’s jaw flexes, but he says nothing. Eijirou’s hand twitches up toward where the other’s rests on the railing, but he hesitates. It’s just when he’s made the decision to cover Katsuki’s hand with his own, figuring the gentle touch might help ground him, when Katsuki speaks up.

“...there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you, Eijirou,” he says, even rougher than before. “I didn’t wanna ruin tonight with this shit, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer.”

“Okay,” Eijirou says. “I’m listening.”

Unexpectedly, Katsuki turns toward the other. He reaches for the hand that had been on its way to resting gently over his own and wraps his own around it. And it’s warm, as it always is because of his Quirk, but he doesn’t stop there. He lifts it up and presses Eijirou’s palm to the center of his chest and holds it there.

Ei can’t stop looking at his face, though. There’s something so… forlorn about it, almost. Something hopeless. And it leaves his own chest feeling hollow where there was, just moments ago, a bubble of bliss from the night, from finally being married to the one he wanted to spend his life with. He almost doesn’t even want to hear what Katsuki is going to tell him.

“It’s back,” Katsuki mumbles, keeping hold of the other’s hand on his chest. “The… the stupid burning thing. From the poison. Right here, like ‘s radiating straight out from my damn heart.”

Eijirou wants to pretend he missed the crack in Katsuki’s voice, but he can’t because it leaves a physical ache right in his own chest. Even he can only seem to muster just a few words. “When… did…?”

“Couple days ago. Kinda hoped it was just heartburn even though I’ve never had that shit in my life. But I can’t fucking deny it anymore.

“I kinda thought… or, no, I guess I kind of hoped that Recovery Girl had healed it completely, since it’s been months since I’ve felt anything. With every shitty day that went by and I felt fine, I thought… maybe…”

Katsuki’s voice is on edge with emotion, and Eijirou feels his fingers curl on his chest with the same feeling. Katsuki doesn’t have to finish his sentence for Ei to know what he’s going to say, and all he can do is take a step closer, wrack his brain for some way to make Katsuki feel better, if just a little.

“...how fucked up of me is that, huh?” he mumbles. “To think maybe I had some second chance?”

“It’s not,” Eijirou promises him. “‘S not fucked up at all, man.”

“Hmph. Right. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For ruining this shit.” Katsuki gestures back toward the building where just beyond the door the party is still going on strong.

“Hey man, don’t even start with that, alright? You didn’t ruin anything. I just wish you’d talked to me about this before instead of holding it in, y’know?”

“...yeah.” Katsuki glances back out toward the city, a deep ruffle between his brows and his hand tense around where it still holds Eijirou’s to his chest.

Eijirou wants so desperately to tell Katsuki that things will be okay, but he knows that’ll only be trying to push aside the inevitable, so for once he’s at a loss as to what to say. Instead he tugs his hand from beneath Katsuki’s and wraps both of his arms securely around his shoulders. For some reason he half expects Katsuki to reject the embrace, but he doesn’t, and as soon as his arms move around Ei’s waist, he finds what he needs to say.

“I’m here with you, Katsuki. Always.”

“...I know, Ei. M-me too.” Katsuki responds, half-mumbling the words into Eijirou’s shoulder. “For as long as I can be, anyway.”

Despite the ache still held in his chest, Ei finds it within himself to smile. “D’you wanna go home?” he asks.

“What? Fuck no,” Katsuki says, finally backing up. “This shit just got started and ‘m not letting all that time you spent planning and shit go to waste. We’re gonna go dance.”

“W-wait, what?” Eijirou stammers. “Dance?” Is… he hearing Katsuki right?

“Yeah. C’mon, before I change my mind.”

And then Eijirou is being tugged back toward the door without relent, his heart suddenly stammering because he can’t fully believe he heard Katsuki right.

But he had. Dancing with Katsuki was probably one of the most enjoyable things he’d ever experienced, if he was being honest, and the other was surprisingly good at it (though it couldn’t be that surprising, seeing as most things seemed to come fairly easy to Katsuki).

The two must kiss about a thousand times on the dancefloor that night. While the true reality of the situation is always looming around the back of Katsuki’s mind, he lets himself get lost in the fucking miracle that is Eijirou for the night. Admittedly he’d planned to drink to erase the emotional pain of it all, but as he spun around the dancefloor with Eijirou in his arms, he found there was no need. Eijirou was all he needed, and he was going to hold onto that with absolutely everything he had until his dying day.

Chapter Text

A warm breeze drifts through a quiet field, lifting a few long, loose strands of hair. The day is warm, cloudless. A cicada buzzes nearby. Spring is nearing its end, making way for summer to swing in at full speed. It’s hard to believe it’s been six months.

Eijirou’s chest is somewhat tight, the way it always feels when he visits this 30 acre field littered with headstones. It’s not enough to get him to stop coming, though, once a month at the minimum since Katsuki’s last breath. In fact, the peaceful nature of the area is part of what brings him back. It clears his mind. Revitalizes him somehow, though he can’t help but find that ironic.

Each time he visits he’s always got something different in his hand, though they all have one thing in common—they all remind him of Katsuki. A notebook, from when the school forced him through an anger management course. A glove from his hero costume. A frayed toothbrush from a long time ago, before Eijirou guilted him into brushing his teeth more gently. It seemed silly, but they made him feel closer to Katsuki, and he needed it. It kept him going while, months after the other’s departure, he’s still learning to deal with his grief. Learning to navigate the world without him. And it’s proving harder than he ever anticipated.

Eijirou never brings flowers. He knows Katsuki would hate that. Sometimes he’ll bring letters and things addressed to Katsuki and delivered in the mail since the world was made aware of his condition and even after his passing—ones that he never got to read—and reads them aloud. Hoping Katsuki can hear him, somehow. Wanting him to know just how much of an impact he had as a hero. As Ground Zero.

This time, though, in his hand Eijirou carries something a little different. It’s something he hasn’t touched in years and even forgot about for a while, but found stashed in the back of the front closet in their apartment. He’s honestly surprised it hadn’t been crushed by accident, never having been in a case and having had things stuffed in around it over the years. But there it was, almost good as new, albeit bearing a few new scratches. It even still has his name scribbled in sharpie on the back.

He holds the thing gently as he treks quietly through the neatly mowed grass, careful to remain a safe distance away from the headstones he passes out of pure respect of other fallen and past heroes. At this point he’s got the path memorized and doesn’t really have to think about where he’s going as he makes his way there, allowing him to take in the warmth of the sun. The humidity of the air. The sound of the cicada and birds…

The headstone isn’t far from a cherry blossom tree, its flowers already having shed and been replaced with maroon-colored leaves. Of course the groundskeepers had already removed the petals from the ground and the stones around it.

Katsuki’s headstone was in the shade at this time of day, just as the sun is making its descent back toward the horizon. His is unmistakable among the ones surrounding it, with the spikes jutting out of the top corners of it, much the way the back of his mask looks. On the front, just beneath his name, hero name, and his birth year and death year is the engraving of a grenade, mid-explosion, rather than a quote like most of the others surrounding it. Eijirou was at a loss for what to put there for a while, and since Katsuki hadn’t any special requests (they rarely talked about it beforehand), he went with the best he could think of. All he can do now is hope Katsuki would like it.

Quietly, Eijirou sinks to the ground a few feet in front of the headstone, pulling in a deep, gentle breath of grass-scented air.

“Hey, Katsuki,” he murmurs. He almost hates to break through the peace of the field with his voice, but he always talks when he’s here. It’s become normal. Routine. He feels closer to his late partner this way. “Man… I can’t believe ‘s been six months. Kinda feels like I was still waking up to you just yesterday.”

Waking up to him healthy , is what Eijirou remembers most even though the last months of Katsuki’s life were hard. Unimaginably hard. But Eijirou, being the optimistic and positive guy he is, has a mind that always strays to the happier days, even if there’s a shadow of pain looming over them all now.

“Days have been pretty good lately,” he says. “I’ve been taking a bit of a break from my hero duties. I think I threw myself back in a little too hard when I went back to it a couple months ago. Ended up with some injuries that’ll probably scar, but s’okay. It’s all part of the deal, right? We’ve always said that.

“Everybody seems to be doing pretty well again. It was hard, ya know… right after. For everybody. There’s like… this hole where you were that can’t be filled by anything or anyone. We’ve all had a pretty hard time adjusting, but we’re starting to get there. I think that’s why I got hurt… ‘cause I’m not used to you being right there. Guess my instincts figured you’d be there to have my back.”

Eijirou lets a shrug roll off his shoulders. “Anyway. Um. There’s… something else I wanted to tell you about. You probably already know, ‘cause sometimes ‘s like I feel you there with me… but I’m… gonna grow out my hair a little more and then cut off the red… or, well, faded strawberry blond-ish color, and then donate the natural stuff. ‘Cause why not, ya know? It’ll help someone. And then, uh… it’ll be pretty short after that. Shorter than it’s been since before middle school. But I’ll dye it again and go back to my usual style, I think.

“So even though I kinda hate how long it is…” he says in a mumble, playing with the braid laying over his left shoulder—a messy one because he still doesn't completely have the whole hair weaving thing down even after spending hours with Mina and Yaomomo learning how to do it—“I’m glad you talked me into growing it out ‘cause now something really cool will come of it. So thanks, man.”

And he does kind of hate it, despite Katsuki having loved it. That’s the whole reason he’s left it for so long. There’d been times he complained about wanting to cut it again, but every time Katsuki convinced him to keep it. It was easy to comply, too, because he enjoyed more than he liked to admit the sensation of Katsuki’s warm fingers tugging through it, pulling it away from his face, twisting it gently and weaving it in his own creative ways. It always made him sleepy and proved to be a good way to fight off his insomnia.

“Sucks ass we didn’t think of this shit before,” Eijirou vaguely remembers Katsuki saying one night as he was already half asleep, a hand tangled in his hair on the back of his head. He’d only hummed, and he was pretty sure it was mere seconds later that he’d succumbed to slumber.

After that, Katsuki had used this newfound method to help Eijirou sleep, and even now he finds it kind of ironic that those are the nights in which he remembers sleeping the best.

“I still haven’t used those plane ticket coupons your parents got me for my birthday,” he goes on thoughtfully. “I can’t really think of anywhere to go, y’know? Well, okay, I can , but I guess there’s nowhere I feel okay going without you. At least not yet. I tried to give ‘em to Uraraka and Midoriya instead, but they wouldn’t take them…”

“Use them when you’re ready, Kiri. It’ll be good for you to take a trip somewhere eventually. I think it’ll help you heal.” Something Midoriya had told him, and while he hadn’t said it , the ‘when you get over it’ felt implied, even if Eijirou knew Midoriya would never mean anything that way.

“...I don’t think I’ll ever get over it,” he murmurs, unaware that his thoughts have once again blended into what he’s saying aloud. “I really, really don’t.”

Katsuki’s parents had given them the coupons because they, just like everyone else, were aware of all the traveling the two of them had been doing over the course of the last two years of their son’s life. It had been mostly Eijirou’s idea, of course, but Katsuki had found he couldn’t really help but go along with it until the idiot was already planning another trip the day after they got home from one, and then he had to speak up.

“ Calm your shit, Ei. We just got back.”

“I know, but—“

“I know what you’re doing, you know. ‘M not a damn idiot. And I appreciate it more than you can even fucking imagine but… you gotta stop treating me like I’m dying so much, Eijirou. Just be normal, ‘cause if you’re trying to do something special twenty-four seven, you’re gonna exhaust both of us. Just be with me. You should’ve figured out by now that that’s all I care about.”

To that, Eijirou had smiled a bit sheepishly, his shoulders slumped, and admitted that Katsuki was right.

“I’ll tone it down,” he promised. “But can you compromise with me here, just a little? Let me treat you a bit, okay? Remember all the stuff you used to talk about wanting to do?  Like, aside from becoming the number one hero and opening your own agency and stuff? Well, I… I never told you this but I sorta made it my goal to help you do all that stuff and now we’ve only got so much time, man.”

“There’s more to life than traveling and shit, Ei.”

“I know, babe. Really, I do. But I don’t want you to get to a point where you can’t do this stuff anymore and end up regretting it.”

After that, Katsuki had agreed to the compromise—Eijirou wouldn’t make him go on a new trip each week, but he’d humor him on some of them so long as Eijirou also did his best to act normally, to treat him as he normally would as long as the situation allowed for it.

Eijirou has to admit it was hard; the fact that Katsuki was dying a little quicker every day never left his mind, and in just knowing that it made him restless whenever they were doing normal, day-to-day things. Even he was starting to feel annoyed by himself after a while, and part of him still wonders just how in the hell Katsuki put up with him for two whole years like that.

If you were to ask him, Eijirou would tell you that one of the hardest things he ever had to go through was watching Katsuki’s decline, but somehow it still feels too selfish to say that. Watching him suffer and deteriorate from the inside out almost literally was one thing, but going through it, and knowing that your days are numbered all the while? He couldn’t—and still can’t—even imagine.

He often has dreams, when he’s able to sleep, about seeing the fire in Katsuki’s eyes fade out day by day until it died completely. He had been himself up until the very end, but the weakness of his body had shown in his demeanor. In the things he said and the way he moved and spoke. Because of it, there was a wound—a scar—on Eijirou’s heart he knew would never, ever heal or disappear.

He’d done everything he could to help when gradually, Katsuki was no longer able. Day by day he grew paler and paler. His skin. His eyes. Even his hair. They all slowly lost their luster. He slept… a lot, and there came a point where he no longer woke feeling rested. His appetite dwindled little by little.

Eijirou will never forget the day he was forced to go on oxygen. He will remember it as the day their ‘normal’ life together ceased to exist completely.

Katsuki had been holding out as long as he possibly could, refusing to have to lug an oxygen tank around until it was absolutely necessary. That was why he ended up waking both of them during the infant hours of the morning, gasping for breath. Horrid choking sounds emitted from his throat, and, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get Katsuki somewhere that could help him fast enough, he’d called for emergency services.

It had turned out to be some semblance of an asthma attack that had died down not long after it’d woken them up, thankfully. But from then on he had no option but to go on oxygen unless he wanted it to happen again, and frequently.

Eijirou remembered the doctor listing the risks of that—of staying off of it. He remembered every single one. And he remembered the mildly irritated and almost… hopeless look Katsuki bore while they were being listed out. He still didn’t want to do it. The sole thing that convinced him was the pleading, glass-like look in Eijirou’s tearful, tired eyes.

From then on, most of what Katsuki had done to stay as healthy as possible, all things considered, was for Eijirou. And shit, he never knew he could be so selfless. He was pretty sure he wasn’t , unless it came to the red-haired idiot he loved so damn much.

On some level, Eijirou knew this, too. But every time he had just enough courage to open his mouth and tell Katsuki it was okay for him to go, he chickened out. His stomach tightened painfully and it was like there was a fist closing around his throat whenever he tried to say it, so he never did.

The time he got the closest, though, he ended up saying something completely different; something even he didn’t see coming.

“ Katsuki?” he murmured while they were sitting outside on the small balcony together, listening to music emitting from Katsuki’s phone and otherwise simply enjoying each others’ company.

“ Hm?”

The question was out before Eijirou knew what hit him. “Do you regret marrying me?”

“What? ” Katsuki asked, head snapping up. “The fuck kind of question is that?!”

“Just tell me, man. I won’t be upset if you say yes.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Do you?” Eijirou pressed, knowing damn well that he was right.

“Of course not, you damn moron.”

“And… that’s the truth?”

Eijirou distinctly remembers Katsuki’s eyes narrowing in suspicion at him. “Obviously.”

That answer hadn’t made Eijirou feel any better, though, and because it seems that sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop, he kept poking.

“You’re only staying alive for me though, aren’t you?” he asked.

Katsuki had looked away, his shoulders drooping slightly. While he didn’t really see that one coming, it still somehow didn’t surprise him to hear the question.

“...even if I wasn’t dying, you’re more than enough reason to keep breathing. Even if there was nothing else for me to live for.”

“But you’re suffering because of me. You’re—you’re sticking around to keep me as happy as you can even though you’re in all this pain, and you have to drag an oxygen tank around…”

Katsuki’s answer wasn’t immediate. In the fading evening light, Eijirou saw his adam’s apple bounce, his jaw muscles rippling subtly.

“That’s not it,” he’d said eventually, quietly. “ Not completely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I feel the same as you, Ei. About only having so much time left to be with you. It fucking haunts me every day that I ended up in this position. I don’t know how in the hell I’m gonna have the strength to leave you alone, or what the fuck I’m s’posed to do to make it any less crushing for you when I’m gone.

“...remember that time you said you have a fuckton of love to give me and not a lotta time to do it? ‘S how I feel, too. And I guess I fucking suck at expressing that… or whatever… more than I thought since we’re sitting here having this shitty conversation.

“Truth is ‘m fucking terrified to leave you, Eijirou. ” At that point he’d looked back, and the sheer agony and resentment in his eyes in that second left a scar on Eijirou’s soul. “I love you so fucking much that I… I don’t know what the hell to do with myself. I don’t know what the fuck’s gonna happen to me once I stop ticking, but I do know ‘m not gonna be with you anymore. Not like this.” He’d taken Eijirou’s hand and Eijirou remembers, so clearly, that in spite of all his body was going through, they still retained their warmth. A breeze brushed past, carrying his sweet scent in Eijirou’s direction, too. The scent of what could only be described as a warm, burnt sugar. His favorite scent, and one only Katsuki carried.

Eijirou hadn’t known what to say. All he could do was lean in, gather Katsuki into his arms and hold him tight for as long as he could.

The moments between then and when Katsuki spoke up again were mostly a blur. He merely remembers the warmth of the other, and being happy that at least, for then, he had Katsuki to hold onto.

“ I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you…” was what Katsuki said to break the silence.

“Tell me what?”

“I’ve been thinking about it and… you know there’s gonna be a point where ‘s gonna be too much. I’m gonna be too much of a burden on both of us. And yeah it hurts and shit now, but it’s gonna get worse. To the point where… we won’t be able to handle it anymore. So I was thinking about how to prevent that.”

Eijirou stiffened. “What… what do you mean?”

“‘M not talking about magically getting better. I’m just sayin’ I wanna prevent that shit from happening. I wanna… get the hell out of here before it does.”

“Do you mean… um, are you implying s-suicide?”

Katsuki hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to; his silence said everything Eijirou needed to know. But, despite how absolutely much it pained him, he couldn’t blame Katsuki. Even now, sitting in front of his headstone and thinking back to all of this, he can’t.

Which is why his response, after swallowing around the lump in his throat a few times in an attempt to keep the thickness out of his voice, was, “ I’ll support you if that’s what you decide. But… please don’t make it something too… you know…”

“Idiot. ‘M not gonna do it myself. I already talked to my doctor about it.”

“Oh. So… assisted. Right?”

“...yeah. ‘S gonna be more comfortable that way. Easier on everyone. And he said I can do it whenever I decide I’m ready.”

“Right. Fair enough.”

“...is that okay with you?”

“Huh? You’re asking my opinion?”

“Yes, Dumb Hair. You’re my partner.”

“...I, um… yeah, I think that’s a—a good idea.”

And he did, solely because he didn’t want to force Katsuki through any more pain than he could bear, even if he knew he’d be there for Katsuki no matter what. Had he gotten hurt in a way that caused paralysis, Eijirou would’ve stuck by him. Amnesia. Cancer. Anything. There wasn’t a damn thing that would’ve made him leave, no matter how hard it got.

After that, they did their best to live their lives as normally as possible, even with Katsuki’s issues that continued to arise one by one, what with his oxygen tank and eventually losing his appetite more often than not. Eventually he wasn’t able to keep down anything solid at all anymore because his stomach was slowly deteriorating, just like the rest of him, which forced him on an all-liquid diet for the rest of his time.

Eijirou watched him lose weight because of it—and a lot of it. He’d already been losing muscle mass because of his inability to work out normally, and with never eating actually food, nor getting enough nutrition from his perpetual lack of appetite, there came a point where his ribs were visible. His cheeks were slightly hollow (though only Eijirou, being the one to know him so well, was able to see it).

Sometimes Katsuki didn’t even have the energy to stand up, let alone walk, which pissed him off. It forced him to rely on Eijirou just to get around the stupid apartment, and he despised being such a fucking burden.

“You’re not a burden, babe,” Eijirou told him over and over, sometimes even when Katsuki hadn’t even said anything. “I’m glad I can help you. And it’s not your fault you’re like this.”

It was easy to tell when the pain started to become unbearable again, being too great for the painkillers—already 800 milligrams to begin with—were too weak to combat it. Most of the time he would just grit his teeth and bear it, but Eijirou wouldn’t let him stay that way for long and did whatever he could to make Katsuki comfortable again.

And that included massages—something he’d done since they were still in high school. Such big explosions, happening so frequently, took a toll on Katsuki’s shoulders and arms with the recoil. Eijirou was always more than happy to help his muscles relax a bit, and even when it had been nearly a year since Katsuki’d used his Quirk to such a big degree, they kept up with it. It laced some old normalcy into the new normal that were their lives.

But as much as they both wanted to pretend everything was normal, even in the larger scope of it all, things kept being thrown in their faces. Katsuki survived alright for a few months on and all-liquid diet; he even seemed to be doing better than before because he hadn’t been throwing up anymore.

...it didn’t last. And Eijirou hated that he wasn’t surprised that it didn’t, either. Hated that all he could do was sit with Katsuki and rub his back, help him down some water when it started happening again.

It wasn’t that he was just unable to keep down a lot of the things he consumed, either. There was coughing. And blood… from his lungs. His throat. He started bruising easily, too, and his hair even started to fall out in clumps. His voice grew more and more hoarse until it was very nearly unrecognizable.

Doctor’s appointments told them what they already knew; his organs were beginning to shut down. His left kidney had already failed and his liver functions were already very limited. There were… holes beginning to form in his heart, his intestines, even his lungs. His bones and skin were brittle. He claimed to the doctor that his vision had started to blur weeks before, and that there was a ringing in his ears. His body had a rough time staying hydrated. There had just been so, so much.

Eijirou only cried away from Katsuki. Nearing the end he was so exhausted that he slept most of the time so he wasn’t able to help Eijirou to sleep (not that he thought he could at that point, anyway), which left him awake most nights. He’d leave the room quietly when he knew Katsuki was sound asleep and hide himself away in the bathroom when he just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and let it out as silently as he could.

Even in his weakened state, this didn’t make it past Katsuki.

“ My vision’s blurry as shit, but I can still tell when you look and feel like shit,” he mumbled in the slurred way he spoke.

“ Can you blame me?” Eijirou said in a quiet tenor, not even bothering to hide his pain.

“‘ Course I can’t, Ei. Just… lemme do what little I can for you at this point. If ya gotta cry, just do it, but don’t run away. ”

That was more than enough to tip Eijirou over the edge, and for one last, good time before Katsuki was gone, he wept. And wept. Loudly, he might add, into the other’s shoulder. And while it wasn’t nearly as obnoxious, Katsuki shed a few tears himself; his heart was already falling to pieces, literally , but if anything was going to shatter it for good it was the sound of Eijirou’s emotional agony. No matter where he was going, he could never forgive himself for this.

The day the date was set—the one where Katsuki would check into the hospital and never really check back out—the whole world felt completely surreal. They had a week. Just one, and that was assuming Katsuki made it that long.

“ Feels weird, ” he mumbled in that scratchy, barely-there voice, “ knowin’ the day you’re gonna die.”

Eijirou had no response for that. He was having a hard enough time holding himself together without Katsuki saying things like that. He felt like he was burning from the inside out, too, having watched the one he loved more than words could ever hope to describe, literally wither away and knowing there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

“ Is there anything else you want to do? ” Eijirou asked him on the way home.

“ Nah. I jus’ wanna be with you.”

They found themselves on the living room floor just a couple nights before the date , as Eijirou had started thinking of it. He’d carried Katsuki in and laid him down on the few thick blankets he’d laid down, kept the heat cranked up for Katsuki’s cold body and lit some candles to provide at least a little bit of light before lying down gently beside him, cocooning them in another thick, fuzzy blanket, and folding him into his arms.

Eijirou remembers his mind straying away in the silence, back to when he had a last few visits from friends and family. There’d been an ocean of tears from everyone but him, of course. He wanted to see them all one last time—his parents, Midoriya, Todoroki, Uraraka, Kaminari, Sero, Jirou, Mina, Aizawa, All Might, and a few others—while he still had enough energy to be with them for a while. It was before the date was set, but they knew it had been coming, and soon.

He made it clear he just wanted to spend his last days with nobody but Eijirou, and they all respected that.

“This is probably far-fetched as hell, but I got a question,” Katsuki had said, breaking Eijirou out of the memory. “ Have you ever had a feeling that for some reason… you just weren’t supposed to make it? ”

“What do you mean?”

“...just that you could never see yourself getting old. You just knew you’d die before then. Like you were only meant to live a short while.”

No, Eijirou wanted to tell him. He’d never felt that, especially not after he met Katsuki, and especially not after they got together. He always pictured them growing up, being pro heroes always side-by-side, and then growing old together. He pictured a conventional life, and one that was long.

“ Didn’t think so,” Katsuki mumbled.

Eijirou had just buried his face into Katsuki’s thin, off-smelling hair and told him he loved him over and over until his voice soothed Katsuki to sleep.

~

This is always where Eijirou forces himself to cut off his reminiscing of Katsuki’s last few years, though the memory of his last day is and always will be imprinted in his memory. Always. He thinks more of a healthy Katsuki, the one he knew before he was fatally injured. He remembers that wicked, determined smile and that rough, always-shouting voice. Remembers the fiery glint in his eyes and the warmth of his hands. The feeling of his lips. The calm, steady look on his face when he slept, so much unlike when he was awake and fighting; unlike those snarls and scowls of anger during a fight or when something pissed him off. That is the Katsuki he remembers most, the one he loves most. He refuses to let the dark memory of that final day in December taint the beautiful images.

“I… gotta admit,” Eijirou murmurs to the quiet of the field, to the headstone before him, “that even though you told me not to, I still sometimes find myself thinking about what I could’ve done to prevent you from getting hurt so you could still be here with me. I know that’s futile ‘cause unfortunately thinking about it so much and blaming myself isn’t gonna bring you back or even make me feel any better. But it’s… hard. And I’ve lost so much sleep.

“Sometimes I wake up in a pool of my own tears on my pillow. Sometimes yours, too. How stupid is that, huh?” His chuckle is dry. Lifeless. “I’m tryin’, Katsuki. I really am. I—I knew it would be hard but like, back then, I guess my imagination wasn’t big enough to dream of just how hard it actually is. To be without you.

“Mom says there are somethings you gotta learn to let go of so you can move on. She doesn’t mean you, but the house. The apartment. She thinks it’s not good for me to be there and offered to let me move back in for a bit so I can heal. But I guess ‘m just not quite ready for that yet. She understands, but she’s worried…

“It’s not like I’m alone, though, y’know? Pretty much every day at least one person calls or comes over to check in on my days off duty, which is nice. I kinda wish they wouldn’t worry about me so much, though. I feel like a nuisance.” The sentence is punctuated with a slight laugh. “‘S good to have such good friends and parents.

“Um… anyway, I brought my ukulele,” he goes on, lifting the small instrument by the neck. “Remember? The one I bought when I sang to you on your eighteenth birthday? I found it a few weeks ago and I learned a new song. ‘S kinda depressing, but it fits. I wanna sing for you again even though I’m not very good at it, and since this is the only song I know…” He trails off with a shrug. “Anyway, I hope you like it.” If you even can really hear me like I hope you can , he adds silently to himself.

The instrument situates easily in his lap. It’s small, and the relatively old and cheap wood feels almost fragile in his rather large hands, but it’s still comfortable enough. His fingers find their places easily; he’s been practicing this for a few weeks, and at this point it’s almost simply muscle memory.

His right hand is poised to strum the first note when it occurs to him to look around, to make sure nobody’s close enough to hear him. He’s confident, but not that confident, especially in doing something like this. Fortunately, there isn’t another soul in sight, which helps him to relax and finally begin.

“ Come up to meet you
Tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are…”

It’s hard to push the words out through a thick throat, but he’s used to this. There’s never been an instance where he hasn’t gotten choked up doing this, and although this time the heaviness is so much more potent on his shoulders, he pushes through.

“I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start…”

A breeze picks up as his voice carries softly, and even though it cracks here and there—he’s really not used to this singing thing—he keeps going.

“ Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start…”

The breeze is warm, and somewhere inside his mind Eijirou wonders if he’s just trying to pretend it’s the same kind of warmth he remembers from Katsuki’s palms, pressing against his skin…

“I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart…”

How cheesy would Katsuki think this was? Would it make him blush? Would he just sit and listen with patience, with a hint of awe in his eyes, as he did the one other time Eijirou sang to him, all those years ago?

“ Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are…”

His fingers stutter on the strings, and his voice falters. The raw emotion swirling within him is becoming too much, too much , and he doesn’t know if he’s going to make it through this…

“Nobody said it was easy…”

He sighs out the line quietly, eyes trailing upward toward the sky.

“Oh it’s such a shame for us to part…”

His eyes sting, but he doesn’t want to cry. Not again. He’s so sick of tears.

“Nobody said it was easy…”

So over the ache in his chest and the dry eyes he wakes up with when his tears are what put him to sleep...

“No one ever said it would be so hard…”

And that’s when the first tear escapes to roll down his cheek. He keeps strumming, despite this. Even through the soft music emitting from the small instrument and a pause in his singing where there isn’t really supposed to be one in the song, he speaks.

“I keep tellin’ myself ‘s not a goodbye. ‘S just… a ‘see you later’ thing.” He pauses. Sniffles. “But I guess that doesn’t really make it much easier.” He swallows. “I’m glad I got the time with you I did, ‘n I know you’d be digging your knuckles into my head and tellin’ me to stop being such a fucking baby.” Through his tears he manages a small laugh. “‘M not gonna apologize for missing you, though. I just haven’t learned how to be happy without you yet. ‘M tryin’, though. Promise.”

He sniffles again, pauses strumming to wipe at his face, his nose. “I love you so much, Katsuki. So damn much.”

The breeze brushes his cheeks again, and for the first time since he’d been sitting there the sun has sunk to just one specific spot to filter through the nearby tree, bathing him in warm, soft yellow light. It pulls a smile out of him—a real, genuine smile. It’s all the encouragement he needs to carry out the last line of the song.

“I'm going back to the start…”