Chapter Text
"Excuse me!”
Izuku’s bare feet pounded against the gravel below him, wings extended high in the air. “I’m so sorry! Pardon me, excuse me!”
“Midoriya!” A barbarian called as he passed, raising a hand in greeting.
Another laughed as he dodged around her, murmuring apologies under his breath. A few more called his name, grinning.
Izuku dodged around them, too, waving his hands to draw attention to himself. “Sorry! Excuse me!”
“And where do you think you’re going?” A familiar voice called. Izuku felt himself jerk back with a little hic noise when someone grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled.
He whirled around to face him. “Hitoshi! You purple bastard, I’m late.”
Shinsou raised one thin eyebrow, but his mouth pulled up into a smirk at his words. “That’s a new one. Think you’ve been hanging out too much with His Majesty.”
Izuku groaned, but felt the bubble of amusement start to grow in his chest anyway. “I’m serious, Hitoshi. I gotta skedaddle, I’m late.”
“You’re impossible,” Shinsou said, but his eyes softened in endearment. His grip slackened on Izuku’s collar, just barely. Izuku saw something telling in his expression, something he’d only picked up after six months of knowing him. Shinsou was not a touchy person by any means, and he rarely did feelings, but whenever he did, he always got a weird glint in his eye like he knew he was about to be disgusted with himself. For that reason only, Izuku kept himself still.
His efforts were pleasantly rewarded when Shinsou tugged him into a hug.
Izuku loved hugs; his arms came up automatically, wrapping around his friend’s shoulders and squeezing. Shinsou pulled him back to arm’s length, pointedly looking away. “That didn’t happen.”
“I miss you too,” Izuku said, pressing a hand to his heart. What a good man. He was glad he had Shinsou as his friend. “But we’re hanging out this weekend, right? We can spar for a few hours, and then grab some food.”
The crease in Shinsou’s brow smoothed out, and Izuku knew he’d hit the nail on the head, because Shinsou and Katsuki were the only two people in the world who viewed sparring as a fun leisure activity. While Izuku wasn’t a particular fan of going for hours, he would do it for family. His family was a bunch of fucking dorks who thought sparring was a leisure activity, however, but he digressed.
“That’ll be fun,” Shinsou said, (a dork,) and when Izuku only stared at him contentedly, he added, “weren’t you… uh…”
“Oh!” Izuku shouted, grabbing Shinsou’s arm. “Right! Thanks for the reminder, Hitoshi, I love you!”
“I… love you too,” Shinsou called at his back, but Izuku was already too far gone to hear him.
Izuku weaved through the thinning crowd, shouting clipped “hello”s and “sorry”s to the barbarians who greeted him when he passed. As soon as he was out of the bustling crowd’s mass, mostly alone in the cobblestone streets, his wings snapped out behind him, and he jumped.
Catching a coast was slowly becoming the easiest thing he’d ever done, in re-learning how to use his wings for more than speed, though he wasn’t sure if he’d ever grow tired of the adrenaline rush that came with shooting from ground level to the skyline in a matter of seconds—buildings and houses suddenly dropping below him, clear air the only thing in his peripheral. He was flying, arms out at his sides to feel the wind cut through his skin, wings stroking powerfully at his back.
He’d grown to love the feeling of sunlight on his feathers, of the sharp cut of the wind tousling his hair. He loved the feeling of his muscles straining to keep him afloat, of the weightlessness that came with flight. In the distance, he could see three or four riot red dragons circling each other in the sky, perhaps playing a game of chase. The most familiar one spotted him, too, even hundreds of miles away, and Izuku felt the echoing roar of greeting reverberate in his bones. Izuku let out a “ whoop!” and let one of his wings drop out from use so he could fly upside down. Arms out above him like a comic book hero, laughter spilled from his mouth like a twinkling melody.
Within a few minutes, he spotted his target down below, squatting in the sand, staring at the ocean’s waves in front of him. Izuku folded his wings to his back and let himself drop, honing in like a bullet. It wasn’t until he was about ten feet away that the man saw him, eyes widening in surprise, and Izuku laughed when his wings snapped out to slow his descent in the last second. It was too late to completely stop, and he crashed into him ungracefully by the time he’d reached ground level.
Izuku laughed again when they tumbled to a stop, his victim landing on his back with an oof while Izuku comfortably straddled his hips. “Hi!” He chirped, leaning down to pepper kisses all the way down his face.
Katsuki groaned, pushing him away with such a lack of energy it was almost pathetic. “You’re late.”
Izuku ground his hips harder against Katsuki’s, smiling against his skin at his boyfriend’s sudden intake of breath. He innocently peppered some more kisses down to his jaw, his neck. The smile stretched when Katsuki’s hand threaded through his hair and yanked, pulling him back sharply. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but Izuku took satisfaction in the way his face was pleasantly flushed.
“Eager,” Katsuki muttered.
Izuku leaned back to allow him to sit up, contentedly looping his arms around Katsuki’s neck and shivering at the way those strong hands rubbed at his hips, then up his back, massaging the joints of his wings. “When’s Shouto going to get here?”
Katsuki made a sound that sounded like a breathless laugh, hands dipping back down to tug Izuku’s hips more forcefully into his lap. He mouthed at his jaw, humming so Izuku felt a chill at the vibrations of his voice against his skin. “Soon. You need to relax.”
“Sorry,” Izuku grinned. He leaned back from Katsuki’s warm mouth, curling his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I got excited. I missed you.”
“You saw me this morning.”
“It wasn’t long enough.”
“We slept in the same bed.”
“And that was fun,” Izuku said. His cheeks hurt from smiling. How was it possible to be this happy? “But I demand more attention now.”
“You are such a brat,” Katsuki said decisively. He glanced down at the sand below them, at the way the fall from Izuku’s landing had caused him to half-sit on his red robes. “You got sand all over me.”
“Aww,” Izuku cooed. “Is the big bad barbarian afraid of a little dirt?”
“I hate you.”
Izuku leaned forward and kissed him. The pattern they’d fallen into was familiar, after five months of trial and error. Katsuki would tease, Izuku would tease back, Katsuki would gripe like he was actually offended, and Izuku learned by watching him and Shouto interact that it meant he wanted attention, which Izuku was always glad to provide.
Izuku liked kissing Katsuki very much. He’d kissed a few people before coming to the human realm, but all of those times simply consisted of weird generosities of saliva and clashing teeth and the curiosity of the entire thing, rather than actual desire. Izuku wasn’t confident he was a very kissy person, after all of those ordeals, but Katsuki and Shouto were a whole other story.
Katsuki liked to kiss slow. It was hot, most of the time, both literally and metaphorically; there was something sexy about the slow drag of his tongue, of the way his hands possessively held Izuku’s waist in place as they moved against each other. He kissed fiercely, determinedly, but with a drive to give his partners pleasure rather than receive it. He liked having them in his lap, like Izuku was now, because he could guide their hips if he wanted to grind or just kiss like lovers. Izuku liked it when he moved his hands around his body as their mouths moved in tandem, like he couldn’t get his fill of him. Izuku liked touching Katsuki as well; he especially liked watching him shiver when Shouto’s feather-light touch trailed up and down his chest as they kissed.
Shouto was a different kind of kisser. That discovery was very pleasant when Izuku had made it. Shouto liked being on top, pressing him down. Izuku found himself spending many evenings with his back to satin sheets, wings spread beneath him comfortably, with Shouto straddling his hips and kissing him hard. When he got to set the pace, it was a little faster. A little frantic, a little desperate. Shouto liked being in control, even when it came to Katsuki, who folded willingly under his insistent touches. Izuku thought his hot mouth on his skin was as good as a drug; he was hooked, willing and pliant to whatever Shouto wanted from him. And Shouto wanted.
Now, folded in Katsuki’s lap with the feeling of those careful hands on his hips, thumbs rubbing against the skin just under his shirt, Izuku felt himself melt. He couldn’t get enough of the soft touches, the demanding press of his mouth. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes when Katsuki pulled away to mouth down his throat, pausing at a spot behind his ear to suck a dark mark into his skin.
“Ah— Katsuki,” he gasped, keening a little at the pressure. Katsuki’s hands tightened their grip on his hips, and Izuku curled his arms around his neck with another high sound when his pelvis tilted to press against his. “Shit—”
“So pretty,” Katsuki mumbled against his neck. Izuku could feel his eyes on his face, watching his reactions attentively. “You make the prettiest noises, baby.”
“Ah—” Izuku squeezed his eyes shut at another dirty grind of Katsuki’s hips. He leaned down to press his lips to Katsuki’s ear, panting. “We shouldn’t.”
“Mm? And why not?”
“We’re—in public—” Izuku hissed, burying his nose in the sweet scent of Katsuki’s hair. Fuck, this man was going to be the death of him.
“No one’s around, ’Zuku,” Katsuki murmured into his neck. But the grinding of his hips slowed to a stop, and his hands loosened their hold. He nuzzled into the curve of his shoulder with a sweeter, more contemplative sound. “But if you don’t want to do anything, it’s fine. I’m content to sit here all day, if that’s what you want.”
“I do—I do want—” Izuku started, face hot. He ducked his head lower, towards Katsuki’s neck, and pressed his forehead there. “Just—later. We have plans right now. Okay?”
Katsuki’s hand gently soothed over his waist, but he pulled back to smile. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Izuku pecked him on the lips again but stood before he could get carried away. Katsuki took his offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. They had plans, technically. Izuku was sure Katsuki would be happy to indulge him much… later in the night.
At the sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore a few feet away, Izuku looked out to the horizon line. “What are you doing out here, anyway? We were supposed to meet up that hill, under the tree.” He stood on his tiptoes to peer in the direction he was talking about, back past the beachy shore. Distantly, he realized, they weren’t far off from where he and Katsuki had first met, all those months ago, when Katsuki drained Izuku’s canteen and Izuku told him he wanted his life. Katsuki’s horse was tied up at the spot he was pointing to, present day, up on the grass and under the shade.
“I like the water, sue me,” Katsuki griped. When Izuku looked at him, he put his hands in his pockets and sighed. “It’s good to think. I come here a lot to be alone with my thoughts. Got caught up today.”
“Anything interesting up there?” Izuku asked, reaching out to drum his fingers on Katsuki’s temple.
Katsuki caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to it, shrugging. “Just boring kingdom stuff. You wouldn’t be interested.”
“You're right,” Izuku said immediately. Katsuki pulled his hand away and flicked Izuku on his forehead, frowning when he laughed. “I’m kidding, come on.”
“Brat,” Katsuki said again.
Izuku came up to hug him, linking his arms around his torso. “Hey, want to see something cool?”
That suspicious glint immediately returned to Katsuki’s eyes, and it took everything Izuku had not to smile. The king tilted his head, leaning back a little. “What?”
“Wrap your arms around my neck.”
Katsuki let out a low groan, but Izuku could see the flash of endearment in his eyes as he did as he was told. “You suck. I’m gonna hate this.”
Izuku’s wings snapped out behind him. “Hold on, princess.”
Katsuki shouted when they took off, clinging so tightly to Izuku he was suddenly afraid he might be strangled mid-air. His arms tightened around Katsuki’s waist, a grin pulling at his mouth when he took them higher than necessary, soaring. The wind cut through his hair with a chill, sending a familiar bubble of excitement pulsing in his chest.
Katsuki groaned pitifully into his skin, and Izuku knew he had his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, this is horrible. You’re going to drop me, holy shit. Gods above, he’s going to drop me.”
“You big baby,” Izuku teased, and Katsuki laughed against his neck despite himself.
“You don’t get my vote for best party trick.”
“Bet Shouto would give me his vote.”
Katsuki laughed again.
Shouto’s palm was cold where it cupped his chin, elbow propped up on the table. He could see Natsuo cough into his hand at the other end to hide a smile when the bounce of his leg grew even more insistent, and Fuyumi rolled her eyes at the sight.
“And thus,” the scribe said, a slow drawl to his words. Shouto jolted to attention, waiting for the “in conclusion” to hit, for him to be dismissed from the meeting. He’d been on edge all day, waking up with something to look forward to at the end of it. The sun was still high in the sky, dinner time, but Shouto was sure he’d blink and it would be low on the horizon.
There was a painfully slow lag as the man’s eyes scanned the parchment in front of him, perhaps looking for the summary sentence of the whole meeting so Shouto could be dismissed. He watched him carefully, the most he’d paid attention all meeting, waiting for the words he needed to hear.
“This brings me to my eighty-first point,” the scribe said.
Shouto put his head on the table and let out a muffled groan into his hands. Natsuo laughed out loud, that time.
“Natsuo,” Fuyumi hissed, swatting at his arm.
The scribe raised his impassive gaze from the parchment to Natsuo’s face, oblivious to the conflict at the head of the table. “Is something the matter, Sir?”
“No, sire, I apologize.” Natsuo pressed his hand to his mouth again, but Shouto could hear the smile in his voice. “Please, continue. I’m sure this last point will be riveting, as usual.”
“Actually,” the scribe said. He shifted his finger from the bottom of his page, and Shouto let out an audible noise of protest at the sight of the scroll unfurling to his shoes and hitting the floor. “There are about fifty more.”
Natsuo threw his head back and howled.
Just as Shouto was about to give up on life, to maybe resign as king in the middle of his boardroom and pass off the title to his brother who seemed to be very much enjoying himself, the door to the side of the room creaked open.
Shouto all but burst out of his chair when Touya poked his head through.
“I’m so sorry,” Shouto said to the scribe, but he wasn’t sure if it was very convincing as he didn’t even have time to look at him with the speed in which he was trying to escape. “I have to—ah, shift’s over, you know—sorry again—”
Touya caught him by the arm just as he passed him, closing the door with a click so the others couldn’t hear their conversation. Shouto whirled on him with the desperation of a child. “Tou- ya.”
“Relax, otouto. You’ll have gray hairs before you turn thirty.”
“I’m only twenty-five,” Shouto defended himself, but reached up to touch his hair protectively.
Touya sighed, trying for stern, but his mouth lifted into a smile anyway when he reached out to adjust the crown on Shouto’s head. He wore a similar headpiece, as did the rest of their siblings, but Shouto was the only one who wore familiar barbarian robes over his attire. Fuyumi had been with him when he picked them out, and she’d smiled when she made the connection.
“You gonna be okay?” His brother asked quietly.
Shouto nodded, watching as his scarred hands gently adjusted the front of Shouto’s red dress shirt. “Of course. It’s just Katsuki and Izuku.”
“I know,” Touya said. He stepped back, one hand reaching for the door again. “Dad’s still pissed, you know.”
“He insulted our mother’s honor by putting her in that mental ward,” Shouto said unapologetically. “It’s only fair we return the favor, at least for a few years. He can’t even boss the staff around anymore.”
Touya laughed. “Taking away his only control like that? You’re a monster.”
“I know,” Shouto said, his own mouth pulling up at the tease. He watched Touya slip into the boardroom a second later, and as soon as the door swung shut, he took off himself.
“Your Royal Majesty,” Tokoyami greeted as he rounded a corner. There was a crow on his shoulder, but he said nothing of it as he fell into step at Shouto’s side.
“Title, Tokoyami-san,” Shouto said without a glance at him.
Tokoyami laughed under his breath, and Shouto knew he was still incredulous at the request. “Todoroki… sama,” he said hesitantly, watching Shouto’s shoulders relax a hair. He held up a letter with two fingers, a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth as they passed through an open doorway. “Crown Princess Himiko—”
“Why, thank you, Tokoyami-san,” Shouto said. He took the parchment from him without breaking his stride, barely glancing down before it dissolved in his grip with a mild flame. “My favorite. How did you know?”
“I have my ways,” Tokoyami said, pleased with the banter. They passed a side table with a pot of marigold flowers and a handcrafted basket sitting pleasantly atop. Tokoyami snatched two flowers with skilled hands as they passed, turning with the momentum to grab the handle of the basket. He completed the spin by falling perfectly into stride once more, offering the gifts to Shouto with a cock of his head.
“You shouldn’t have,” Shouto said, deadpan, but he took the gifts anyway with another small smile. Tokoyami walked with him to the front of the castle, only coming to a stop when the guards posted at the door moved to open it from them.
Shouto turned to walk backward, holding the basket closer to his chest and offering a small wave. “Thank you, Tokoyami-san.”
Tokoyami bowed, low, just as the doors shut behind him.
Shouto jogged down the palace steps, tucking the marigolds into the lip of his basket and waving over a familiar stable boy. “Hi, Aki-san. Happy birthday.”
Aki’s eyes lit up, his hands pausing over the reins of Shouto’s horse. He turned to face him. “You remembered?”
“It’s your fourteenth,” Shouto recited, digging around in his back pocket for a moment and pulling out five gold coins. “Fourteen is important. This should last your family the month, should it not?”
Aki stopped moving entirely, blinking at the offering. He looked back up at Shouto, just as Shouto took the reins from him. “I—I’m sorry?”
“Take it,” Shouto said, pressing them into his palm and folding the kid’s calloused fingers overtop. “Go home and celebrate. You’ve done more than enough.”
Aki was still staring at the money by the time Shouto swung his leg over his saddle and took off, but he did hear a clipped “thank you, Todoroki-sama!” thrown at his back. He looked down as he rode to hide his smile.
The familiar shortcut to the barbarian kingdom took only twenty minutes to travel, and by the time his steed flew past the dirt-line cutting through the grass where the border wall once stood, not as many people were out as he was used to. He still nodded to the barbarians in the marketplace streets who called greetings to him, politely declining offers of free merchandise to their favorite king (“don’t tell His Majesty we said that,” the woman at the silver bracelet stand snickered, tucking her hair behind her ear. Shouto resisted the urge to smile.)
By the time he reached their meeting spot, it was a little chillier than he’d anticipated, but the sun’s rays were still warm. He couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes late, but an amused snort left him when he took in the sight of the two men sitting by the tree.
Katsuki had pulled Izuku into his lap and was busying himself with marking down his neck—it appeared as if he’d been doing it for a while, judging by the bruises Shouto could already see. Izuku was completely slumped against him, wings twitching with every graze of Katsuki’s teeth but otherwise content to sit and let Katsuki have his way with him.
“I didn’t realize you’d throw a party without me,” Shouto called as he dismounted, gripping the basket in one hand and hiding the flowers behind his back with the other.
Katsuki and Izuku pulled away from each other all at once, and Shouto snorted again at the sight of the dazed, fucked-out look on Izuku’s face. He squatted beside them, smiling when Katsuki tugged him forward for a kiss. “Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbled against his mouth.
“Hi, love,” Shouto murmured, pulling back. He smiled when Izuku tugged him into a kiss a second later, noting how hot his skin felt. “You really did a number on him, huh?”
“He’s fine,” Katsuki scoffed, but kept his possessive hold on Izuku’s waist. Izuku flicked his forehead, murmuring something under his breath that made Katsuki snort, but he otherwise looked content where he was.
Shouto held up the picnic basket with one hand, pulling out the marigolds with the other. “For you.”
Izuku’s eyes lit up in surprise at the gesture. He took the flower offered to him, grinning that bright, sunny smile Shouto adored. “Thank you!”
Katsuki didn’t respond for a moment, and when Shouto looked at him, his steady gaze was focused on Shouto’s face. He leaned forward and took his lips in a gentle kiss, one hand coming up to caress his jaw when Shouto hummed. They pulled back, but Shouto could still feel Katsuki’s breath on his face. “What was that for?” Shouto asked quietly.
“Love you,” was all Katsuki said in response.
"I love you, too."
Izuku leaned forward to peck Shouto’s cheek, still smiling. “We should set up to eat.”
“I can think of something else to eat,” Katsuki said, looking at Izuku. Izuku slapped his hand over Katsuki’s mouth.
“Kacchan.”
“So you’re going to look at me with a straight face,” Katsuki said, through a mouthful of onigiri, “and tell me that you’ve never had watermelon before?”
“I refuse to believe that you’ve never had watermelon,” Shouto said indignantly.
Izuku huffed, staring at the plate of fruit in front of him. “It’s not like it was a choice, I’ve just never seen it before!”
Shouto shook his head again. “No. I don’t believe it.”
Katsuki gestured with his chopsticks. “You have to try it now.”
The late afternoon was blending into early evening. Katsuki didn’t mind the chill, having grown used to it after spending so many nights outside, but he was starting to have a problem with all the bugs in the air. (“It’s because you’re not wearing a shirt,” Izuku had teased, gesturing to Katsuki’s bare skin. “And you literally naturally smell like sugar.”)
Izuku’s bright green eyes were curious as he stared down at the slices in front of him. The tan skin on his neck swirled darker from Katsuki’s hickies, and Katsuki tried not to stare with too much pride as the Fairy hesitantly picked one up from the plate. Shouto and Katsuki both watched him attentively as he took his first bite, searching for any changes in Izuku’s expression.
His eyebrows raised at what Katsuki could only assume was the first taste of cold liquid, followed by the texture itself. He took another bite before either of them could ask his opinion, and Shouto laughed quietly.
“This is really good,” Izuku said through his mouthful, and took another bite before he could swallow. Shouto reached up with a napkin when juice started to drip down his chin, murmuring something about Izuku being a child.
Izuku reached into the pile for another as soon as he’d finished the first, and at the sight, Katsuki protectively reached for one of his own. He stuck his tongue out at the look Shouto shot him. “What? He’s gonna eat it all, and I love watermelon.”
“Watch out for seeds,” Shouto told Izuku, instead of replying, just as Izuku picked a seed from his tongue.
“I thought you liked spicy food,” Izuku said to Katsuki, almost tauntingly.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the plate. There was only one watermelon slice left, and Izuku was eyeing it, too.
“I like all sorts of foods,” Katsuki told him indignantly. “You’re just mean.”
Izuku made a noise of offense under his breath, but his eyes stayed on the plate. They were both almost to the end of their slices, chewing noisily, and Katsuki knew Izuku would lunge as soon as he finished. He grinned into his next bite at the ridiculousness of it all, at the fact that this had morphed into some sort of silently agreed-on challenge between them. He chewed a little faster. Izuku picked up pace, too, and choked on a laugh when he swallowed too fast.
Katsuki saw his arm move practically before it did, and he lunged at the same time in a blur of movement.
Less than a second later, his hand touched Izuku’s, having both landed on the empty plate in front of them.
“Amateurs,” Shouto murmured, spitting a seed onto the ground from his first bite of the stolen fruit.
Katsuki and Izuku stared incredulously for a second, too shocked to move. They wore mirrored expressions of surprise, and it was only after Shouto smiled into his next bite that Katsuki threw his head back to laugh.
“How did you move that fast?” Izuku asked, but he started laughing, too.
“He’s very skilled,” Katsuki told Izuku, grinning when Shouto leaned over to mindlessly peck his cheek.
Before he’d left to come to their meeting spot, Katsuki had to listen to both Mina and his mother scold him for not bringing gifts for his boyfriends on their date, and Katsuki insisted they weren’t bringing anything, either, but—
“It’s proper etiquette, Katsuki!” Mina scoffed, wiping her hands with a rag. She’d quit her job at the butcher’s cabin (after both the Barbarians and Endeavor implemented new rules for their hunters to not even go near visiting Fairies) to take residence at the palace kitchen, which was cool, at first, until she got to use the time they interacted in to nag and tease him. “I don’t care if they’re not bringing anything, we’re talking about you!”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Katsuki had griped, trying to walk away from the conversation. Mina stepped in front of him to block his path, and he’d groaned. “Listen, I wanted to get there a little early. There is no ‘we,’ I have to go.”
“What are we talking about?” Mitsuki Bakugou asked, poking her head around the corner of the hall.
Katsuki threw his hands up with a groan, but Mina talked over him.
“He’s not bringing Shouto and Izuku a present.”
“You’re not bringing Shouto and Izuku a present?” A new voice asked before his mother could respond. Kirishima poked his head out from behind her, pressing his fingertips to his mouth in mock-offense. “Katsuki, have you not learned proper etiquette?”
“I’m gonna kill you,” Katsuki told him.
His mother stepped out from around the corner, a coy smirk pulling at her mouth. “You didn’t get them anything?”
“Why am I suddenly expected to bring a gift?” Katsuki hissed through his teeth, frazzled by the sudden team-up against him.
Mina pulled a spatula from the rack just inside the kitchen doorway, brandishing it like a weapon. “Prepare to be fought.”
“Katsuki’s getting into a fight?” Kaminari asked, wandering around the corner as well.
Katsuki pushed his hair from his forehead. They just kept coming. “Were you all waiting for a fucking cue?”
“Whaat?” That was Sero, slowly dipping his head out as well.
“I hate this fucking family,” Katsuki seethed.
He wasn’t even surprised when Jirou peeked out after him, shuffling into the space Kaminari gave her. They took a few seconds to surround him, Katsuki crossing his arms in the center of the circle like an exhausted child. His friends were like sharks in the water, and now they’d dragged his mother into it. This was going to be the death of him.
“All we’re saying,” Mina said placatingly, “is that we know you.”
“We know you didn’t get them anything,” Sero added, like he needed context. “So we took it into our own hands.”
Katsuki put his face in his hands, groaning. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Your gift ideas are horrible.”
Kaminari squawked. “Name one bad gift I’ve given you!”
“Bag of mice.”
Kaminari stared at him for a second, mouth open like he was trying to come to his own defense, before he started laughing instead. “Okay, that was not my fault! You asked for it!”
“I asked you to get a bag of ice after I dropped a crate on my foot!” Katsuki cried. “I thought it would have been pretty obvious!”
“Those fuckers were hard to catch, too. I was like, why would he want this? Oh, well, I’m a slave to the economy, so I have to do as His Majesty asks of me—”
“Anyway,” Mina cut in, putting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “We took care of it, so don’t worry.”
“I’m worried.”
She ruffled his hair. “You’ll see what it is when you get to your date! I love you! Good luck!”
“Use protection!” Kirishima called.
“Fuck you too, Eijirou!”
In the present, Katsuki refocused on his lovers in front of him. Izuku was teasing Shouto about something, and Shouto’s cheeks were dusted with pink, but he was smiling. It made Katsuki crack one of his own on instinct.
“I should tell you,” he started, rolling his eyes. “My friends—”
His words were cut off with a loud boom, shaking the ground around them from the force of it. Katsuki, Izuku, and Shouto whipped around to look at the sky where the sound had come from. Katsuki’s eyes went wide.
In the darkening evening light, fizzling out over the horizon, was the remnants of a firework.
Katsuki didn’t have time to speak before another one went off, lighting Shouto’s eyes with color. Izuku’s face was open with astonishment. Katsuki’s attention was redirected to memorizing their captivated expressions, mouth drawing into a smile.
He leaned forward carefully, pressing a gentle kiss to Shouto’s neck, and then another to Izuku’s cheek.
“Did you do this?” Izuku asked, breathless.
Katsuki kissed his hair. “My friends did. They said…” he laughed a little. “That I needed to bring you a gift.”
Shouto turned back to face them, grinning. It was such a contrast to Shouto’s usual placid expression that Katsuki could do no more than stare, surprised. Shouto leaned into his space and murmured against his mouth, “We never had that race, did we?”
“What?” Katsuki mumbled back.
“The race. We talked about it, the day of the war with my father. You said Izuku couldn’t beat you, and I said I would win.”
“You want to have a race?” Izuku whispered, bumping his nose against Shouto’s.
Shouto smiled wider. “To the horizon. Let’s catch the light in our hands.”
“What?” Katsuki asked, laughing, but Shouto was already pulling away.
He settled his hand on his horse’s muzzle when he reached it, tugging on the reins. “Sun shines for a reason, right?”
“You’re so on,” Izuku said, bursting to his feet. Katsuki allowed himself to be pulled up, pushed towards his horse.
Shouto took off before he’d even thrown his leg over his saddle, and Katsuki shouted a protest. Izuku laughed, hitting a powerful stroke of his wings that shot him off the ground. Katsuki flicked his reins with a little hyah! and leaned into the movement when the steed took off running.
They were racing towards the fireworks still lighting the sky, to the steadily setting sun. Shouto was in the lead, barbarian-style robes whipping out behind him from the speed of it. Izuku kept letting out these echoing, happy cheers as he soared, swooping back and forth in the air between them. When he passed Katsuki, Katsuki reached up until their fingers brushed. He grinned at the contact, whistling for his steed to go faster.
And there they were, racing through the evening light, wind tearing through their hair and skin and clothes. Another firework set off, closer this time, and Izuku twisted through the raining sparks like he was born to. Shouto looked over his shoulder and grinned again, and Katsuki could do nothing but reach further, go faster.
The last wisps of light spread out to guide the three of them, across the horizon line. Katsuki reached for the sun, fingers splayed wide.