Shopping with a toddler in tow is, put simply, a fucking nightmare. He'd had a dream about this last night, actually, but that dream was far more idyllic than the real thing. In his dream, Hisami sat in the cart, pointing things out and babbling about how excited he was to have a new room, and Katsuki and Deku revolved around him, pulling things off shelves and placing them in the cart—a well-oiled machine.
In reality, Hisami is a holy terror, a little whirlwind of grabby hands and barked orders.
"I want this one," he says, pulling a bedside lamp off of a modest display and brandishing it like a weapon. Deku chastises him for climbing on the display before picking up the boxed lamp he demanded and depositing it in the cart, only for Hisami to whirl away and change his mind about the lamp ten seconds later, citing a new, better lamp. Katsuki sighs. At this rate, they'd all die of old age before Hisami decides on anything.
"What color do you like, Bubba?" Katsuki asks, in an attempt to get Hisami moving in one cohesive direction. When he said he wanted him to pick the things for his room, he never thought of the consequences, or how short his son's attention span truly was.
"I like green, like Papa's hair, or orange like Ground Zero Papa," he says, climbing on the cart like a particularly motivated monkey. Katsuki pries him off the side of the cart and sets him in the kid seat. Hisami grimaces at his shopping cart prison, immediately trying to work his legs out of the little holes.
"Okay, so you want a Ground Zero room?"
Hisami nods, still squirming in the cart. The lamp currently tucked away in the cart is a garish yellow, so he tosses the offending piece of furniture back at Deku, and he wordlessly places it back on the shelf. He can tell Deku is trying not to laugh at him. He'd been taking a backseat today—more so than usual—content to let Katsuki police Hisami's behavior.
"Alright, here's the deal, Bub. You keep your tiny butt in this seat," he pauses, and pats the handlebars of the cart for emphasis. "And I'll make sure you get all the coolest Ground Zero stuff there is. Got it?"
"But you said I could pick!"
"Of course you get to pick. It's your room—you just get to pick it from right here," he says, poking a finger into Hisami's belly for emphasis. He giggles and squirms, but he stays put.
"Okay, Papa," he says, looking sheepish. Deku gives Katsuki a thumbs up and an approving smile before he calls for Hisami's attention, holding up two lamps, a green one, and an orange one.
"Hey, Button. This one or this one?"
"That one!"
—
Once they manage to keep Hisami in place, and only giving him so many options, things go much more smoothly. Katsuki had no idea he had so much merch. He doesn't remember signing off on bedsheets patterned with cartoonish bombs and explosions, or throw blanket with his signature orange X, but there they were, and they were going in his son's room because he chose them. Katsuki beams at the thought, and he catches Deku staring at him, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Shut up," he says, a preemptive strike for whatever dumb shit Deku is about to say.
"I'm glad you're enjoying this. You're good at it, you know," he says softly, his eyes on Hisami. He's occupying himself by picking out a new night light, and it's surprising just how long it's taking him. Katsuki can hear him faintly muttering a pro and con list, hunching over the two packages.
"I'm a fucking dad, Deku," he says, a bit incredulous. It's a stupid thing to say, since he's technically been a dad for a while. "It's official."
Deku laughs at him, and it doesn't even bother Katsuki.
"Would you like a laminated card? Bakugo Katsuki, Dad. You can hand it out so everyone knows."
"Fuck off," he mutters, just low enough for Hisami not to hear it. There's no venom in his words, though. He's on cloud nine and not even Deku can bring him down.
"Anything else you think we need?" Deku asks, sensing that Katsuki's done with humoring him.
"You think he'd like to paint the room?"
"I think he'd like to paint everything but the walls. Probably not a good idea."
Katsuki hmms and decides to let it go. Instead, he goes to help Hisami with his night light decision. He's read to get home—to show Hisami is home for the first time. Hopefully the damn cat doesn't act up.
—
The cat is, blessedly, not an issue. On the contrary, it comes out from one of its many hideyholes to stare beadily at Hisami. Katsuki gapes at the thing—he hasn't actually seen his cat since he brought it home two years ago. It's uglier than he remembers. Mangey blonde fur and a grumpy expression.
"A kitty cat!" Hisami screeches, but he approaches slowly, making himself smaller.
"Uh, Bub, be careful. He might not like people."
"Might?" Deku squeaks, his parental senses tingling. He starts to move toward Hisami to save him from a possibly vicious cat. To everyone's surprise, the cat pushes its ugly face into Hisami's outstretched hand. He giggles.
"Papa, he looks like you!" Hisami pulls the stupid cat into his lap and buries his face in its fur.
"Hah?"
Deku bursts out laughing and moves to sit beside Hisami. Katsuki feels vindicated when the stupid cat hisses and tries to scratch him.
"What's his name?"
"He doesn't have one."
"You have a pet, and you never named it?" Deku raises an eyebrow in his direction.
"Oi, it just ran into my apartment one day. He does his own thing." This is a bold faced lie, but Deku doesn't have to know that.
"And then you bought it cat food. Therefore, it's a pet."
Katsuki is about to argue when Hisami practically wails, tears in his eyes, "Papa, can I name him?"
"Sure, Bub. Deku, help me with the boxes."
They go out in the hall for all of five minutes and when they return, boxes in hand, Hisami is sprawled out on the floor with the cat laying on his stomach, staring at him.
"I named him Cheeto," Hisami says dreamily.
"Why?"
"'Cause I'm hungry," he murmurs, scratching under the cat's neck. "Papa, do you have Cheetos?"
Katsuki shares a dubious look with Deku. He shrugs, as if this is totally normal.
"I'm not fucking calling him Cheeto," he grumbles. Deku just laughs. They get to work unloading boxes and washing sheets and Hisami's new clothes.
The entire time they work, Hisami lays on the bare mattress, curled up with Cheeto. Eventually he passes out, and Katsuki continues working alongside Deku in companionable silence. Katsuki can't help but feel giddy. Even if Hisami doesn't seem to care much about his room, he's in his apartment. He has his own things, his own furniture, and a burgeoning relationship with his reclusive cat. He feels comfortable enough to sleep, at least.
He's not dumb enough to think this won't come with its own set of challenges, but for now, it feels like a triumph. Katsuki is a dad. His son his happy, for the moment. And he has Deku, somehow. They're not really friends, they're not really anything, but he knows he can trust him. Maybe someday they'll be more than tentative acquaintances bumbling through a crash course in co-parenting, but for now, this is enough.
If Katsuki wasn't so preoccupied with celebrating all the things he'd won, maybe he would've noticed how sad Deku looked.