Katsuki is picking up dinner at a popular ramen shop after a short, unexpected patrol shift. He's in a mood because he's not supposed to work when he has Hisami—he made that very clear with his agency at the start of all this, and it only took three Hisami weekends before they fucked up his schedule. He made sure to yell at whoever put him on-call for the weekend. His parents were more than happy to watch him for a few hours, and he figured he'd thank them by bringing home dinner. And then he sees familiar green hair while waiting for his order.
He often wonders what Deku does with his free time. He wonders who he spends it with, if he has any real friends. When he sees him sitting at a table, smiling at some lanky, pink-haired idiot, he feels a rush of surprise and anger. Deku's entitled to his own life, but he thought he'd at least tell him he was dating someone. Does this guy spend time with Hisami when he's not around? Does Hisami like this guy? The idea of being replaced by some stranger works him into a lather.
He boldly walks up to Deku's table and interrupts their date. Deku's eyes bug out of his head at the sight of him. His idiot date's hair is like a blinking strobe light. It was a vibrant pink before he walked up, but now it's fire red, like Kirishima's, then black, then back to red.
"Can I talk to your for a second?"
"Uh, right now? I'm kind of…" He trails off, and looks pointedly at his date, as if Kacchan is missing something obvious. He's not—he just doesn't give a shit.
"It's important," he says blandly, allowing himself to spare a glance at his date—who's hair is now just as green as Deku's. Deku apologizes and excuses himself from the table. When they make it far enough away, Katsuki starts in.
"You on a date with that clown? Christ, Deku he looks like a fucking traffic light."
Deku snorts, but he looks vaguely annoyed.
"Did you actually have something important to say? Everything's okay with Hisami, right?"
"Yeah, I'm picking up dinner. We're eating with my parents tonight, but no one wanted to cook. Why didn't you tell me about your date?"
"It's not a date—and, no offense, but it's also none of your business."
"If he spends time with Hisami, it's my business."
"He doesn't. I mean, we're in that parents group together, so they've met briefly, but that's it. Hisami doesn't meet anyone I date. I hope you'd stick to the same rule, too."
"You think I have time to date?"
"I hadn't really thought about it." Deku's got that same look on his face—the one he had the day of the petting zoo. Blank, cool, easy—which obviously means he's feeling anything but cool and easygoing.
"I just… don't really get why you'd keep this from me."
"I honestly didn't think you'd care. I just needed a friend to lean on in all this. He's in the same boat—custody stuff."
"You talk to him about me?" Katsuki splutters, feeling suddenly exposed.
"Of course not. It's just nice to spend time with someone instead of being in my empty apartment. This transition… it hasn't been easy." Deku looks away and crosses his arms self-consciously, and Katsuki feels a pang of guilt. Katsuki never really thought about how Deku's life was changing. Going from being a single parent to having his son four days a week. It had to be agonizing, coming home to an empty, Hisami-less apartment—and Katsuki never thought twice about it. Suddenly, Katsuki is struck by just how little Deku shows him, shares with him. He thinks of all the little warnings he's thrown Katsuki's way.
Getting the brush off from your son hurts.
Parenting can be isolating.
They were warning for himself as much as they were for Katsuki. There's always a veneer of calm accommodation and repentant politeness that Katsuki never bothered to look past, and it's such a piss-poor way to treat him after all he's done to make sure Katsuki is comfortable.
"You can lean on me. That's why we're doing this."
"Okay," he says, a tight, half-assed smile on his face. He knows Deku well enough to know when he's placating him.
"I mean it, Deku. You need to talk to me about shit. This goes both ways. I'm… I'm here for you, too."
Deku looks as if Katsuki just punched a hole in his chest and ripped out his heart.
"Yeah. I've got to go. I'll see you for pick up tomorrow."
Katsuki feels heavy and discombobulated, as if he had just realized he had lost something important.
When he gets back to his parents' house, he's sulking like a teenager. His parents notice and his mom is quick to comment on it.
"Jeez, who pissed in your ramen?"
"Fuck off," he mutters, shoving a swirl of disappointment, and maybe something like jealousy, down to the pit of his stomach, where it's easier to ignore.
—
"Everything alright?" Taikutsuna's hair is an unpleasant, acidic green. Izuku nods and settles back into his seat.
"Just some stuff about Hisami. It really could've waited. I'm sorry about that."
"All good. So, that was your ex?" His prying question turns his hair hot pink before changing back to green. Izuku wishes he knew what the colors meant. He nods, and takes a giant mouthful of hot ramen, so he doesn't have to talk. Izuku finds that he stutters awkwardly every time he refers to Kacchan as his ex boyfriend.
"Ground Zero… wow," he says, breathing the last word.
"What?" Izuku asks, suddenly self-conscious. He knows it's hard to believe their flimsy love story—how could anyone like Izuku catch the eye of the number five hero?—but he doesn't have to comment on it. Izuku is slightly annoyed.
"It's just… he seems so smart on TV," Taikutsuna says, his hair turning yellow, and then soft pink. Izuku can't fathom where this is going.
"And? He is really smart."
"He can't be, if he'd let you go."
Izuku's brain has left his skull. He's stopped working. The lights are on but nobody's home. He has no idea what's going on. He finally pulls himself together enough to stammer out a response.
"Oh," he says. Genius. "That is… oh."
He wants to say that is wildly inaccurate, but he's not sure that would go over well, and he'd rather not stay on this topic.
"That's very kind of you to say. How's your ramen?"
Izuku apparently missed some crucial cues. He told Kacchan he wasn't on a date, but clearly he was very wrong. It could be because Izuku only half-listens to everything Taikutsuna says. It astounds him that someone so vibrant can be so boring. Whatever the case, this is not the kind of distraction Izuku is looking for. At all. Ever.
He tries to hold his hand across the table twice. The first time Izuku snatches his hand away on instinct, but the second time, Izuku was a bit lost in his head, and he didn't notice until their fingers were threading together.
"Are you ready to go?" Taikutsuna says softly, his hair blinking between pink and orange as his thumb makes circles on Izuku's skin. His hand is a dead weight in Taikutsuna's gentle grasp.
"Uh, yeah," he squeaks, trying to figure out how to yank his hand back in a way that's subtle. Thankfully, Taikutsuna relinquishes his hold when they leave the table, and Izuku all but sprints away.
"Do you need a ride back to your place?"
"Uh, no. I have my car." This is a lie, but he doesn't have to know that.
"Oh," he says, hair blinking pale blue before turning back to pink. "I'll walk you, then."
"No, that's okay! I'm in a bit of a rush. I'm picking up Hisami." More lies. Who knew Izuku was such a capable liar?
"Alright. Well, I've been having a great time with you, Midoriya." Taikutsuna grabs his hand again, and it somehow leaves Izuku feeling even lonelier than usual. Maybe it's because no one's held his hand in a very long time—save for his three year old, of course. Maybe it's because the action in itself is welcome, but the person isn't. He imagines holding Kacchan's hand, and hates himself for it.
He's so busy hating himself he's completely forgotten about Taikutsuna and the fact that he's actively speaking to him—complimenting him, even. Then, all of a sudden, he's moving closer, eyes at half-mast, and oh, fuck. Izuku realizes he means to kiss him, only seconds before it's about to happen, and Izuku backs up on instinct so viciously that his backside hits the railing behind him and he falls head over heels, landing in the shrubbery outside the restaurant.
He yelps, and from his place among the shards of his life in the foliage, he sees Taikutsuna looking down at him, his hair a deep purple he's never seen before.
"A-are you okay?"
Fuck.
—
Katsuki brings Hisami back to Deku's early Sunday evening, using the key Deku gave him about a month back. He feels weird having a key to Deku's apartment, but he can't deny that it's handy, and probably pretty necessary. He needs to give him a key to his apartment. He had a horrifying dream about giving Deku a key. He presented it to him in a ring box on one knee—and he's been trying to block it out since it happened. Thus, he has not given him a key yet.
Deku is laying face down on the couch, looking extremely pathetic, but he jolts when they come through the door.
"Papa, you sleeping?" Hisami screeches, scurrying towards him. If he was, Hisami's level of excitement has him awake now.
"'Course not, Button. Did you have fun? I missed you." Deku pulls Hisami to him and gives him such a long, heartfelt hug, it makes guilt flutter to life in Katsuki's chest. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about how sad Deku looked when he admitted he was having a difficult time with all the changes in his life. Hisami disentangles himself from Deku and runs off to his room. Apparently, he goes and greets all his stuffed animals and action figures every time he comes home from Katsuki's. It's a ritual that takes at least an hour. Katsuki seats himself next to Deku on the couch, and nudges him lightly.
"Mind if I stick around until bedtime?"
"That's fine. What'd you two do this weekend? Aside from accosting me at the ramen shop, of course."
Katsuki laughs, glad to see Deku is in slightly better spirits than he was yesterday. He's still not effortlessly smiling, but it's a start. Katsuki realizes that it's been a long time since Deku's been at his full brightness.
"Hung around the house, mostly. Hisami was cranky all weekend, so I didn't want to risk taking him anywhere."
"Understandable. No tantrums?"
"No, thank fuck. I haven't had to deal with that yet."
Deku nods and picks up a half-drunk glass of wine and takes a sip. He doesn't say anything else.
"How was your date?"
Deku groans and takes another, deeper chug of wine.
"Ended the night in a bush."
"Is that code for some sex thing I don't know about?"
Deku snorts and shakes his head.
"No, it's literal. He tried to kiss me and pulled back so hard I fell into a bush."
Katsuki cracks up, completely unable to hide his mirth—and satisfaction. He's glad Deku didn't want to kiss that extra. Deku lets him laugh and finishes his wine in one long gulp. He sighs heavily before getting up and taking it to the sink.
"Hey, uh, I'm going to a baby shower in two weeks and you're invited too. I was going to take Hisami. Kirishima and Ashido want to meet you. They… want to apologize."
Katsuki sees Deku's back stiffen just so. He seems to have to compose himself and breathe before he turns to Katsuki with a placid smile on his face.
"They don't need to apologize to me, Kacchan. They're your friends," he says, clearly trying to placate him again. It grates on his nerves. Why can't Deku just say what he really thinks?
"Yeah, and you're…" he trails off, unsure. He doesn't think he could ever describe what Deku is to him, so he doesn't try.
"Your baby daddy?" Deku says, his smile teasing again. Katsuki chokes, and he just knows his face is turning red.
"If you ever say that again, there will be a physical altercation."
Deku laughs, full and bright, and a bit pink in the cheeks.
"Well, at least you've given me fair warning," he says, and it's heavy with the reminder than Katsuki has physically hurt Deku many times before without warning and without reason. His stomach drops at the thought, and Katsuki decides, right then, to do something nice for Deku. He has Hisami the weekend of the shower, and if Deku doesn't want to come with them, then he'll make sure he's filling his time with something fun and relaxing because he needs something right now, and he won't open up or ask for help.