Shouto wakes quickly most days, asleep and then not in an instant. There’s work to be done, people to be saved, paperwork to be completed. There’s no time for luxuriating in his comfortable bed.
His shifts start early and often end later than he would like.
Today is not one of those days. Shouto’s alarm is turned off and, even better, so is Katsuki’s.
Today is a day off, a real proper day off. Neither of them are even on call for emergencies.
Shouto wakes up slowly in his boyfriend’s arms and is never leaving this bed. Katsuki’s half on top of him, the warm side, which he will naturally deny if Shouto dares to mention it.
Shouto carefully wraps his arms around his boyfriend and lets just a little more warmth creep into his side.
“I know what you’re doing.” Katsuki grumbles but doesn’t move away.
“And what’s that?” Shouto is so comfortable.
Katsuki groans and doesn’t answer for a moment. “I have to get up eventually.” Even as he says it he subtly snuggles closer.
“No, you don’t.” Shouto is perfectly happy just like this.
“Yes, I do.” Katsuki argues but still doesn’t move to get up. “You wanna eat, don’t you?”
Shouto absently considers possible compromises. “There’s no shame in brunch.”
“Criminal.” Katsuki scoffs, a light sound.
Shouto hums, neutral and considering even though he really isn’t giving the accusation any thought. He comes to a decision, curls his arms tighter around his boyfriend and turns.
Katsuki lets out a breath at the movement and complains about the weight. Shouto finally deigns to fully commit to opening his eyes and admitting wakefulness. “Pure muscle.” He smiles and presses a light kiss to Katsuki’s nose. “You like it.”
“That is not what I said!” He protests. “Get off me!”
“I don’t know.” Shouto pretends to consider the request. “I’m just so warm and comfortable.”
“You’re fine.” Katsuki declares. “You have a built-in heater.”
“And a built-in cooler.” Shouto argues, just to be difficult, and purposefully relaxes further.
Katsuki scoffs and pushes himself up enough to give Shouto a proper kiss. It’s slow and lazy and what even is a meal in the grand scheme of things? It isn’t that important, surely? Unfortunately for Shouto’s ambitions Katsuki is a stubborn man who believes in routines and regular meals and starting days right. He uses the distraction to his advantage, flipping their positions again and smirking in triumph as he pulls away. So competitive.
“Breakfast.” He declares and leaves Shouto to sigh alone in his sad, cooling bed.
Shouto has never been able to resist the call of good food for long and Katsuki truly only ever makes good food. He gets up with a tired stretch and throws on the coziest clothes he owns. Today is a day for lying around in comfort, not even a stray thought for the work that awaits him in the abstract future of his next shift.
Katsuki is hard at work, mixing and throwing things together. Shouto blinks at the scene, steps forward, wraps his arms around his partner’s front and hooks his chin around to look over his shoulder.
“Knock that off.” Katsuki orders, as he always does. It ‘impedes his work’ to have ‘a grown man clinging to him.’ Shouto squeezes once and obeys with only a hint of disappointment knowing that Katsuki will be more agreeable once he’s seen them both fed.
If left to his own devices with a shift rapidly approaching, Shouto often submits to the allure of a protein bar for breakfast. It’s fast and easy and the taste is nothing worth mentioning. It makes the mornings with the time and energy for more all the better in his opinion.
Katsuki sets their plates out and Shouto takes a moment to appreciate the wonders of well-made omurice. He loves Katsuki’s omurice, it’s nothing like his mom’s or Fuyumi’s, which has long since developed a personality of its own. One of Shouto’s theories about the world is that some dishes are just too personal to come out the same way for everyone. The little preferences and habits gleaned from whoever taught you come out no matter how you try to aim for an illusionary standard.
Shouto wouldn’t say Katsuki makes better omurice. His own work is perfectly tailored to his tastes, though if there was a judged contest his boyfriend would probably win easily. There’s just something warm and wonderful about eating something made for you, ingredients left out or added with you in mind.
They eat mostly in silence, for all that Shouto is up and dressed he doesn’t feel quite awake yet. This is not an entirely uncommon experience.
“C’mon.” Katsuki gathers their dishes and nudges him as he passes. “We’ll watch some garbage or something and fold laundry.”
Shouto perks up. He loves garbage, or, he’s developed a love of watching garbage. Katsuki gets so snippy. He throws a load in and grabs the basket of clean unmatched socks and doesn’t think about how many other things he could be doing right now.
A day like this is not about productivity. It is for leaning into his boyfriend’s side on the couch and covering their laps with a blanket. It is for matching socks and listening to Katsuki mock terrible reality television and adding his own commentary when Katsuki least expects it to make him snort. It is for watching him roll his eyes when Deku’s enthusiastic face appears in a commercial for some hero docuseries.
Shouto should invite him over for dinner sometime, it’s really been too long. Not tonight though. Tonight is for Shouto and Katsuki and the apartment they’ve made home.
He leans over further into his boyfriend's side when he finishes with the socks. Katsuki doesn’t even twitch at the increased weight, doesn’t even pause in his complaint about the dumbass on screen and his stupid choices. Shouto turns just enough to press his lips to Katsuki’s cheek.
“What was that for?” He demands. The tips of his ears are a little pink, even after all this time.
“Nothing.” Shouto answers, even though that isn’t quite right. He’s pretty sure the answer is actually something closer to everything. “Just wanted to.”
Katsuki huffs, says nothing for a moment, and kisses Shouto in return. His ears are still pink when he goes back to complaining. The show has long since moved on to a new subject.
Eh, it doesn’t matter anyway.
The washer beeps to let them know it’s done.