Baby~ | Deku x BNHA Boys

My Dork

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Ship: Katsuki x Izuku,

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Katsuki, or as most people know him by his stage name, Blood Bomb, stares at his phone, scrolling through his lover's private Twitter, seeing the recent tweets are little things like, 'Just made onigiri! Hehe (─‿‿─)♡' with a photo of little bear-shaped Onigiri. Katsuki's heart clenches with love, keeping his facial expressions blank as he /is/ in the chill room in his studio, liking the tweet. Closing his phone, he looks up, staring at the camera crew setting up. Today was interview day, something he dreaded with his entire body.

Having interviewers think they're entitled to his personal life is infuriating at worst, annoying at best. Sometimes he gets nice ones who ask about his career, and don't dive into his personal life, try to pry at his secrets, and figure out things not even his...ugh, friends know. Katsuki reluctantly shoves his phone into his sweatpants pocket, crossing his arms as he watches the interviewer, Uraraka Ochaco, take her seat in the large chair pulled up for her, her brunette bob bouncing as she does. The woman rights her skit, fixes her blouse, and pushes her chest out in a way that would make a straight man flush.

Katsuki has been a raging gay basically since birth, so he just...blinks. The woman doesn't show it, but Katsuki could see the slight disappointment in her eyes, but the cameraman holds up his hand, mouthing out '3...2...1' Uraraka smiles at the camera, while Katsuki scowls slightly, shifting on the couch he sits on. "Welcome back to Behind the stage; I'm Uraraka Ochaco, here with Famous rapper, Blood Bomb!" Uraraka speaks, voice bubbly and cheery, the camera pointing to Katsuki, who grunts.

"Blood Bomb, how does it feels to be at the top of the charts?" Uraraka speaks, leaning it to make it more dramatic. "Dunno, It feels fine; I don't give a shit about the charts, honestly," Katsuki speaks, scratching his bicep, fixing one of his skull rings on his hands. Uraraka hums, smiling, "Blood bomb, do you...perhaps have someone that motivates you?" Uraraka asks, her voice dipping into sultry, eyes slightly hooded. Katsuki snorts, "Yeah.

My fiancé."

Uraraka's jaw drops, as does everyone else in the studio. The woman sputters, nearly reeling back, but recovers relatively quick. "How long have you been in a relationship, Blood Bomb? Who is she?" Uraraka asks, shifting in her seat slightly, cheeks a little paler than before, but hard to see through the fake blush on her cheeks. Katsuki rights himself once again, sitting up straighter, no longer slouching, feeling his phone buzz silently against his thigh.

"He and I have been dating since we were...fuckin' fourteen, I think? Either fourteen or fifteen." Katsuki says, dodging the second question, glaring at the woman whose jaw drops at the word /he/. "S-So your...?" Uraraka says, and Katsuki finishes her sentence. "Yeah, 'm fucking gay. What? Is that a problem?" Katsuki growls out, making the brunette flinch. "I-..uhm."

The girl opens and closes her mouth a few times, clearing her throat, reaching to take a sip of the water bottle sitting by her ankle. After a rough, large swig, the brunette continues on with the interview. "Does anyone know of your mystery fiancé?" "Hah? 'Course, my squad does," Katsuki replies, fixing a thick, black band on his ring finger, staring at the woman who seems at a loss for words. "I see; what does your finacé think of you having men and women pine after you?" Uraraka asks, leaning back in her seat slightly. Katsuki barks a loud laugh, watching the girl suppress a startle.

"We get a good fucking laugh out of it. We're secure in our relationship that we don't care. Cheating scandals, drama, and other shit that isn't true is something laugh at in our house." Katsuki speaks, eyes glowing with pride and fondness. "I love him, and he loves me; he and I count who actually confesses us in a week. Whoever wins gets to bow out on a certain chore," Katsuki says, rolling his shoulders. Uraraka laughs softly, eyelashes fluttering. "Who has been your greatest support?" Uraraka asks, returning to a certain professionalism Katsuki hates. "My fiancé. He actually helps me write a lot of my songs." Katsuki speaks, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he talks about his fiancé.

Katsuki drives the conversation away from fiancé talk, as Uraraka starts to get the jist, speaking more about his career. "How did you start out songwriting?" Uraraka asks, leaning in slightly, hand resting on her fist. Katsuki hums softly, adams apple bobbing under his skin. Katsuki can see the woman's eyes track the bobble of his throat. He doesn't pay any mind to it, blinking softly, "I've always liked singing from real early age, my old hag used to film be parading around the house, screaming heavy metal at age six,"

Katsuki snorts at the memory of his mother showing the videos at Friday dinner. Izuku had nearly fallen off the damn couch, cackling while Katsuki stewed in the far corner of the couch in embarrassment. "My throat was always hoarse after that, screamin' my lungs out like a maniac six-year-old. My old man used to chide me about screaming the curse words, too, since I didn't skip that shit. I wasn't a pussy six-year-old who thought 'darn' and 'stupid' was a swear word," 'Unlike Izuku, who didn't start swearing till eighteen,'

Katsuki thinks briefly, nearly smiling at the thought before schooling his features to keep it blank and uninterested. Uraraka hums, "When did you write your first song?" She asks, righting a piece of hair in her face, wide, doe eyes staring at Katsuki that makes his nearly shift uncomfortably. "Uh..." Katsuki hums dumbly, brows slightly furrowed. "I think...fuckin' ten...?" Katsuki mutters, but the mic above them picks it up perfectly. Uraraka hums, a glint in her eyes that Katsuki doesn't like, "You mentioned your fiancé helps write your songs. Are any of your songs just yours? Or are they not truly authentic?"

The woman asks; a tad bit of a sneer in her voice makes Katsuki glare at the woman. "What are you implying?" The blond growled, hands starting to twitch and clench, jaw tight. "I'm just /saying/ you said your fiancé writes some of your songs, no? Have we ever heard an authentic Blood Bomb song?" The woman speaks in a sing-song tune that makes Katsuki's blood boil and veins throb with anger. He shoves it down, though, taking a deep breath in, thinking of Izuku's pudgy, biteable freckles cheeks, and his cluster of heart-shaped freckles behind his ears.

"My fiancé doesn't write the songs, only some, where I need a better, softer touch or need a different rhyme; he helps in a different way." Katsuki grits out, calming himself. "All my songs are authentic. I don't let people write my shit; I write it myself." Katsuki's glare doesn't waver, keeping it strong. "So, /yes/, all of my songs are authentic." Katsuki spits at the shocked woman, a small buzz, barely audible, tells them it's the end of the interview. Uraraka laughs awkwardly while Katsuki glares, scowling.

"Well, that'll be all, folks! Thank you for tuning into the live video of Behind The Stage! I'm Uraraka Ochaco," Uraraka cheers, and Katsuki groans out, "And I'm Blood Bomb," Uraraka takes it from there, a tight-lipped, awkward smile on her face as she feels Katsuki's glare burn into her, "Singing off, bye-bye!" The sign "ON AIR" previously red, shuts off, signally that the live ended and the cameras were no longer rolling.

The second the sign shuts off, Katsuki springs up and walks off, uncaring of the brunette that sputters, clearing thinking they were going to talk more. Katsuki disappears into the back of his studio, heading into the bedroom hidden away, locking the door before collapsing on the queen-sized bed. He groans into the soft pillows, deciding to take a nap before heading home, too tired to drive home after dealing with the bullshit interview.

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Katsuki stumbles into their house, yawning loudly, hearing the familiar 'tippie-tappie' of their large Doberman Pincher and Akita trotting down the hall, turning the corner to greet Katsuki. Their Doberman huffs happily, stubby tail wagging. Katsuki bends down the greet the two, getting happy whines and soft paws dancing on the floor. Izuku walks into the hallway a minute later, drowning in Katsuki's large hoodie that reaches his knees, a large smile on his face.

Izuku holds up a plate full of bear-shaped Onigiri, smiling widely, chubby freckled cheeks pulled taut. "Hi, Kacchan!" Izuku chirps, and Katsuki's heart soars, standing up, walking towards Izuku. Having to bend down to kiss his 5'3 fiancé is one of Katsuki's favorite past times; feeling soft lips on his own, Katsuki is in a perfect blissful haven in the safety of his home. Running his large hands against Izuku sides, they both smile against each other's lips, their two dogs returning to the large dog bed in their living room.

Katsuki, later posts a photo to Instagram, a plate of bear-shaped Onigiri balancing on his thigh, his large, muscular hand intertwined with soft, freckled fingers, a black and orange band on the smaller hand with the caption,

'My dork 🧡💚