Sipping iced green tea from a frosty, sweating glass, Katsuki faintly rocked from side to side in the kitchen, facing the wall with a furrowed brow. Brash X's scratched out box after box, slashing out time passed, dragging as stubborn and slow as this sticky summer heat. Every window in the house, upstairs and down, had been flung open, the sweet breeze ruffling at Katsuki's pinned back bangs and fluttering the corners of the calendar page.
Fourteen days. Two weeks.
Sure, they'd been apart longer. The job had pulled them to opposite ends of the country on more than one occasion. The tsunami across the southern coast wasn't their first, either. Only this time, All Might Agency was understaffed with Ochako going off the play fucking astronaut at the beckoning call of Japan's space program. Apparently, a Quirk like hers would do wonders in space, on moons and planets. No one could throw out a guess for how long she'd out of commission as an earth-bound Pro Hero.
Shinsou, less than a year into contract with All Might Agency, was on leave with a pretty nasty head injury caused by a villain who understood a little too well how Mr Sandman's Quirk functioned.
Which, in short, left Katsuki mooning over a fucking calendar, and the four-dozen sneakily snapped photographs saved on his phone.
Deku, half his freckled face buried in a pillow, his lips parted soft in sleep, his recently cut hair, shaved down neatly at the sides, with trimmed curls spilling over his brow in the blue morning light. Deku, frowning deep, his dark, straight brows crunched close, chewing on his thumbnail as he pored over documents, scribbling out police statements and so forth. Deku, visiting the children's center within AMA, grubby kids flocking to him, clinging to his legs, swinging from his strong arms as he smiled bright as a five year old. Deku's profile while watching television. Deku cooking in a pair of low slung, baggy pants, the small of his back freckled and bronze from sun. Deku grinning, toothy and wide as he reached up for Katsuki's phone, the dimple in Deku's right cheek more captivating than the glory of his naked body sprawled out in their sun-soaked bed.
Scowling, Katsuki guzzled the remainder of his tea with a vengeance and turned from the wall to wash his glass. Without having to admit it to anyone but himself, living alone after a year of cohabiting in an actual house which they'd picked and purchased together felt alien as fuck. Past times in which Deku had been away on missions and they'd still lived in their separate apartments had been different. They'd still had their own spaces in which they were used to existing by themselves.
In this house – well, it wasn't Katsuki's house. The house was theirs, together. And not only was one half missing and leaving the rooms echoing and empty, but Deku had also missed out on his twentieth birthday just five days ago.
Asshole. Mucking through buried homes and saving puppies and kids like the number one shitty hero he was. No wonder everybody loved him.
There were some things Katsuki didn't miss, of course.
The way Deku fell face-down onto the bed or couch, still caked in dirt and blood because he'd pushed himself too far and no longer had the energy to bathe, so instead he got the furniture all gross. Katsuki would mutter curses, have to stop whatever he was doing and run a bath to ease Deku in. Wash his back, his hair, while Deku struggled and failed to stay entirely conscious during the ordeal.
The way Deku seemed to crave light to the point of leaving on every lamp in the house, even when he wasn't in the room. The way he lingered in front of the open fridge because he could never decide what to eat. The way he kicked and flailed in his sleep, taking his work home with him to fight even as he dreamt.
Fuck. Katsuki missed all that shit too.
When the hell had Deku gotten under his skin to the point where Katsuki couldn't go a day without him lingering on the outskirts of everything he did?
