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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Text

Good Comes In 3

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: You and Jake navigate what it means to spend six months apart. Then, when he does come home, you two have to evaluate precisely what feelings you have for each other and also what a future together could mean. You just aren't sure he will ever forgive you for starting a puzzle without him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 34K

AO3 Link

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Abuse (Implied), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, Rejection, Drinking, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, Fertility problems, miscarriage (discussed), menstruation (discussed and lightly described), close female friendships, Depressive episodes, PTSD, roommates to lovers, love confessions, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.

An: Unfortunately, this last part was too long to post altogether here on Tumblr. So I have included the first half here, the rest can be read on AO3 though. My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you all for loving this version of Jake. There were so many things I wanted to include and finish off for these two. While I couldn't include everything, I hope you enjoy what I did.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

"Jake looked tired. Has he told you how he's been sleeping?" Marlee asks you curiously while chatting with you on the phone. The question causes your stomach to roll in a deep dive, and it takes you a moment to find the composure to respond.

"No, I haven't heard," you manage to tell her. Setting down the piece of fruit you had been about to eat, you lean back against the kitchen counter.

"Ah, well, will you ask him about it whenever you next talk? He wouldn't answer Javy or me about it when we asked."

"You and Javy are joined at the hip, practically the same person sometimes. Do you find that shocking?" You ask Marlee teasingly. Marlee chuckles at your comment. Her smile betrays her true feelings, though she likes how in sync she and Javy are generally considered.

"We are sometimes." Marlee concedes but then says frankly, "But even when Javy had his individual call with Jake, he wouldn't say. And you are the only other person I can imagine him opening up to,"

"I'll mention it next time I talk to him," you manage to say. It would just be one of the many things that you were supposed to be talking to Jake about on his deployment. It was easier to go along with their assumption than to flay your chest open and let the hurt you felt pour out.

Sometimes it's better, easier, to keep the kind of pain you felt to yourself. Bundled close and protected. To expose it would just make it hurt all the more. The idea of anyone, especially your closest friends, knowing you weren't important enough, or you had scared Jake away, or made some other mishap was mortifying. How could you go about explaining what had transpired? You weren't sure you could explain it. Also, Javy and Marlee had plenty of other things and people to worry about without having to add you higher on their list than you were already placed. You felt bad each week when one of them called you to check in begging, sometimes demanding that you hang out with them.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then, babes. I love you!"

"I love you too, Marlee," you say, giving her the sweetest, kindest tone you can muster up. You end the call and walk over to the chalkboard in the kitchen.

Jake normally would draw seasonal decorations on it, but you had cleared it to be blank for notes months ago. The only thing on the board is a list you had titled: things to talk to Jake about. You add 'sleeping habits' to the bottom and frown. Reading through the list makes tears prick at the back of your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. You hold the eraser poised for a moment, ready to trash the entire list, but you don't manage to follow through and drop the eraser, letting it fall to the ground.

You walk through the house, checking the locks and turning off the lights. The sadness and frustration you feel in you is still bubbling as you pass where Jake had unceremoniously left the large Juniper chest. You glare at it just like you do every night.

The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower. While he was occupied you stole one of his large Navy shirts that had been washed so many times it was soft. You are reluctant to leave his room, but make your way to the kitchen starting some breakfast and Jake's morning tea. You were just adding the dollop of honey he likes when he came downstairs, fully dressed and ready to leave you.

Jake thanked you sweetly, with a kiss pressed to your cheek. In the same breath he tried to steal the whisk out of your hand. You danced out of way holding the whisk out like a sword to ward him off. He had quickly grabbed the masher from the utensil jar and brandished it in response. Amusement filling his features. After a small chase around the kitchen which included a small clash of utensils, Jake got his way. You loved the way Jake's eyes crinkled and how charming his dimples and smile lines were. It was a look you almost always got anytime you let him do things for you. Jake had still let you help though, asking you to toast the sourdough bread, while he whipped the avocado, goat cheese, and honey together. Once it was the constituency he liked, Jake spread it on the toast sprinkling some sea salt on top. He made one for you as well, but you had already started cooking three eggs for him, and didn't really have an appetite. After Jake ate, you spent every minute waiting for Coyote to arrive for pick up wrapped tightly in Jake's arms.

"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said.

"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites.

"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again.

"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together.

"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh. The tip of Jake's nose had dragged softly across your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to the center. He lingered there, breathing you in.

"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tried to pull him as close and tight to you as possible again. Jake allowed you to hug him, but he didn't relax into the embrace like he normally would have. He was almost stiff in your hold, but one of his hands traced slowly over your back in a soothing motion. When Coyote's headlights had inevitably shown through the frosted window on the door, Jake carefully detangled himself from your arms. He lingered though practically trembling.

"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.

"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.

"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me."

"If you be safe," you had compromised, wanting to savor every second ticking by that you would never get back. This last time you would be in the same space sharing the same air, for an undetermined amount of time. With a resolve you knew you didn't possess, Jake mouthed the words goodbye he was so close that his lips brushed yours as he did so. With a shaky inhale, Jake stepped away from you. His first two steps hadn't hurt so much, but the third as he exited the front door took all the air with him, including the bit trapped in your lungs. It was a sense of instant emptiness you had never experienced before. Everything you wanted to do seemed impossible when you couldn't even breathe. So there was no running after him for one more stolen moment, no collapsing against the floor, sobbing until your throat was raw, no more reassuring green eyes you could look to for comfort.

The hollow feeling that nestled into you was hard to find your balance with. You had thrown the lock on the door and stumbled through the house, ready to retreat back into Jake's bed. Well aware his scent would be gone sooner rather than later, you were determined to imprint as much of it to memory as possible. You are blindsided by pain shooting up your foot as you unexpectedly stubbed your toe. Cursing and looking down you realized there was now a new piece of furniture. Jake had left a hand made juniper chest Jake left sitting in the area between the living room and dining room. On top was a small note card with a watercolor of two very detailed puzzle pieces.

You stare so hard at the water colored pieces trying to parse their meaning the focus of your visions started to blur. The rapid blink forced tears to lubricate the area. However, when there is one tear there are others quick to follow. Just as a tear had splashed against the edge of the card you recognized the duplicates of the last two pieces you and Jake had double tapped into your last puzzle. On the back of the card stock was the drawn design of the chest, with all of Jake's neat measurements noted. You traced over his neat handwriting, and you were quick to quell your disappointment not finding more. That confusion and disappointment was impossible to ignore when you had gone to see what was inside and it was locked, the latch refusing to open.

Now, after 6 and ½ months of radio silence, the chest taunted you. His entire deployment, there hadn't been a single word to you. Your only source of information was occasionally hearing from Coyote and Marlee about how Hangman was doing. And there was the memory of him, a large empty house, and a locked chest that was too heavy for you to move.

You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you – this small abuse of the furniture while pacing before bed was a small soothing habit that helped you work some of your worries out. Once the feeling of missing Jake had settled into a dull, steady pain there was room for anger. You were furious and the only thing you had to take it out on was this beautiful work of craftsmanship. Unshockingly, the chest had been well made – because why would Jake make something that was easy to take your anger out on. He couldn't even give you that small concession. Even though you aren't as angry anymore, kicking the chest has become a part of your nightly routine.

The chest didn't just bother you because it was locked or a surprise gift you hadn't asked for. It also bothered you because of what it was made from. The juniper wood Jake used didn't match the boards he used for the puzzle table, which was a more common light juniper. The boards for the chest were such a deep red it looked purple. Jake made it from one of the logs that you had helped him strip. Seeing the chest felt like a reopening weeping sore; one bleeding from a formally treasured memory that was nestled close to your heart.

…

Saturday mornings were always a wild card with Jake.It was the one day of the week you could never be 100% sure what his plans were. There were staples you could expect like his morning run, but after that who knew? Sometimes he would have plans to see his friends, other times he had a project, list of chores, plans with his "little brother", manuals to read or some other all day activity. He liked it to be all day. So Sometimes you liked to just lounge in the living room waiting to see what he was going to do before making any plans of your own.

"Hey, I'm going on a drive and run some errands. Anything you want me to pick up?" Jake says to you when he comes down the stairs one Saturday morning.

"Oh, can I come with?"

"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you.

"No, it won't," You protest, standing up and stretching. "I'd rather be with you. As long as you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Yeah, of course, sugar. I never mind when you tag along." Jake says with a wide smile.

"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"

"I'm going to meet an old friend."

"Oh my god. Please be less ominous Jake"

"What would you like to hear, sugar?"

"Who exactly are we meeting?"

"We are meeting up with my friend, Jess."

"And?"

"And, and, and," Jake says, twirling his hand around the air before dramatically pointing to his watch. "We are already 4 minutes behind our schedule. I'll tell you right now that this is cutting into our farmers market time." "Farmer's Market is on the list?"

"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his ‘duh-voice’ that you actually hate, but also you love because it reminds you how easy this is supposed to be. How it's not supposed to be a second thought. The things you like are included and planned for without you having to ask.

You are scrambling up the stairs to get ready when Jake calls after you. "You don't actually have to rush!! I'll make up time on the road."

"You know I don't support your excessive speeding Jake!" you call back, grabbing what you thought you would need.

"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad.

"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items.

"Do you want car snacks? I packed some, and we can always stop to pick something else up." Jake asks you glancing up from his paper.

"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck."

Jake just shrugs and opens the door to the garage for you. "It's not a big deal, I'll add the car wash to my list for tomorrow."

"I also got your truck slippers so you don't have to wear your boots for the drive," Jake tells you. It's so sweet you want to grab him in a tight hug. You squeeze your hands tight instead, waiting for the urge to pass. Jake helps you up into the passenger side of the truck. Just as he said, the soft fuzzy blanket you like, and the slippers Jake got you are laid out waiting. Jake helps you out of your boots and into the slippers, setting them in the back seat for later. Once you are fully settled and buckled, Jake closes your door. He checks that the garage door is locked before jumping in the truck himself.

"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors.

"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains.

"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it.

"I literally fly ten times as fast as car speeds. Well, more like 9.9 but still when you round up. It's ten." Jake responds,

"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes.

"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues.

"That's fine, and I am not invalidating that. However, you know just as well as I do, that everyone else doesn't have that same ability."

"You are so sassy!" Jake teases, clearly deciding to let the faux argument go.

"I'm the sassy one? Sure," you say sarcastically, drawing out the word. However, you also decide to let it go. Instead you enjoy the start to your drive, getting music going and adjusting the temperature controls until they are just right.

"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"

"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug.

"Really? Nothing is the justification to wear the work boots you got me?"

"You can't live with a bit of mystery, can you?" Jake asks, but there is affection laid into his words.

"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."

"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused.

"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him.

"I'll admit it. You got me figured out. What gave it away?" Jake asks jokingly but not as quiet as bright as before. You shoot him a look, but his smile is still firmly in place.

"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly.

"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."

"It's the fact that you refuse to grow facial hair. I'm convinced that it's because you want to save that for a disguise." You say, almost giggling trying to picture Jake with a beard or mustache. You expect Jake to laugh too, but he doesn't. After a slightly too long pause, he forces out a strangled laugh, and you realize that you've misstepped somehow.

"Talk about it or leave it?" You offer trying to sound natural and keeping the pushiness you felt gnawing on you out of your voice. Jake takes a deep measured breath, exhaling out slowly through his nose. He drums a staccato on the steering wheel before responding.

"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests.

"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify.

"Both, please."

"Can do."

"Thank you," Jake breathes quietly. Then he offers his right hand to you across the center console. You only wait a moment before slipping your fingers to slot in with his. He squeezes your hand affectionately and you both seem to take a deep breath to try and ease some of the uncomfortable tension. Jake's thumb tracing softly against your skin.

"I'll tell you if you really want to know," Jake says a few miles later while his eyes stay trained on the road. You think about whether you really want to press him for details. As much as you want to know, you don't want to ever force Jake into sharing something with you if he isn't completely comfortable with it.

"Nope, it's fine. Keep your mysteries, Hangman, I'll find out eventually." You finally respond, pulling Jake's hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making sure he understood your innocent intentions. He chuckles good naturedly and his hand flexes at the movement, tightening its grasp on yours when you set them on the middle console again.

"That's good. I appreciate you."

"I appreciate you more," you tell him sweetly, though you mean it very genuinely. Jake pulls his eyes from the road to flash a heavy frown of disapproval your way.

"I don't think that's possible," Jake says with passion.

You just shrug, letting the conversation drift to the next topic, just enjoying the drive with Jake. It is a while before Jake pulls off onto a private road that leads up to a massive barn, and you still don't really have any clue where you are or why. Jake throws the gear into park, the truck in park and shoots you an almost gleeful smile.

"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again.

"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here."

"Do I have to stay?" You ask him nervously, checking the mirrors on either side of you. You know once Jake leaves the truck and into the barn you won't be able to see him anymore. The idea of being alone here, somewhere you don't know, even in the truck makes you uncomfortable.

"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says.

"It's okay," you tell him reassuringly. "That's why you had me bring my boots, right?"

"Yes, but you just look snug as a bug. I didn't want to make you move," Jake replies.

"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend."

A moment later Jake is opening your side of the truck and helping you into your boots, tying up the laces for you and ignoring your protests that you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself. Jake helps you out of the truck and holds your hand, helping you walk over the uneven ground carefully. You can smell it before you see it. The fresh woodsy scent permeates the air so heavily that you can nearly taste it.

Subverting your expectations, Jake does not lead you to the large frame equipment sliding doors of the barn. Instead, he leads you around the nearest side where there is a small typical sized door. Opening the door, Jake reveals a huge workshop. Half of the large barn space is filled with massive logs, planks, boards, and other cuts of wood. The other half is full of various projects, a giant tool bench, and shelving making up an impressive workspace.

"Oh wow," you breathe taking it all in. You look at Jake and he is positively gleeful, maybe even more excited than a kid in a candy shop. His grin is wide, looking around and leading you a bit further into the workspace. A soft Jingle plays in the air, penetrating the otherwise quiet atmosphere when Jake closes the door behind you.

"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.

"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully.

"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing."

You almost let go of Jake's hand in alarm, but he gives you a squeeze reassuring you. He leads you a little further into the warehouse, and a middle aged woman comes in through one of the open doors.

Jake lets go of your hand to give her a warm hug. She hugs Jake back lightly before pushing him away with a playful shove.

"It's good to see you too, Jess," Jake grumbles, dodging out of the way of her playful punch.

"Hi, I'm Jess. It's nice to meet you." She says turning to you and offers you a warm smile

You introduce yourself a bit shyly, but feel more confident when Jake's hand slips back into yours.

"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake.

"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains.

"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him.

Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond.

"Well, even if he is annoying, you've found yourself a good man," Jess says. You wait for Jake to correct her. When he doesn't you start to do so yourself but Jess has already changed the subject and started walking to the other side of the warehouse with a gesture for you to follow.

"So, I got them fresh this week. And just like you requested, I'm letting you have the first freshcut pick, even before me." Jess explains to him.

"I knew you loved me," Jake gasps grinning wide. Jess huffs out a breath at Jake but doesn't deny Jake's accusation which just makes Jake grin wider. Y'all walk to a pile of grey logs stacked close to the large barn doors.

They start a conversation that completely goes over your head, something about soil conditions, chain lengths, altitude, sap, and other details you didn't know impacted wood. You take this opportunity to look around the shop, and appreciate all the different types of wood and tools. You have only slightly lost focus when you suddenly realize Jake has said your name and is looking at you expectantly. He quickly picks up that you missed the question though, so he repeats it gently.

"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea."

"Oh, I just pick one?" You ask looking at all the logs. Besides the fact they were different widths they all looked pretty much the same to you.

"Yes, Ma'am," Jake confirms. He leads you to the ends of the cuts and starts talking about grains, and the potential knots and twists that would be in the wood when you cut into it. Jess leaves y'all to decide, saying she'll go grab her forklift to make getting the selections into Jake's truck easier. Jess declines Jake's offer to drive with a snipe about how he isn't forklift certified. Jake's muttered comeback about how he could be forklift certified if he wanted makes you roar in laughter.

You eventually pick a trunk that overall doesn't look too special, but Jake said it looked like it would be easier to work with because of how sticky the sap was. Jake makes two other selections and also insists on helping Jess get the wood into his truck.

Jess invited you to an early lunch where you met her wife Paula. Paula had clearly been prepared to host and spent the whole meal fawning over Jake. While Jess might deny treating him like a son, Paula certainly leans into it, and you can tell Jake doesn't mind from the glowing smile that stays on his face the whole time you're at their home.

As promised Jake had planned time to stop at the farmers market, and an outlet mall, that included a target, where two do some light shopping. Finally picking up Jake's drycleaning on your way home. It's a fun day, and you were thankful you had decided to tag along.

"So Jake, are these for what I think?" You ask him excitedly when you have finally made it home and he is pulling the logs into the garage.

"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper."

You stare at the grey logs of wood with their mossy, splintering bark that has already made a mess in the garage. Examining the wood you try to compare it with the Juniper you have seen in the past.

"I didn't think it was that color," you tell Jake scrunching your eyebrows together in contemplation.

"Well, the wood isn't actually grey, just the bark," Jake explains. You watch as he pulls two pairs of work gloves from the workbench. He jerks the larger pair on, you realize with adoration that he had gotten a pair in your size. Jake doesn't hand the gloves to you, rather just leaves them out as an offering if you are interested in participating. The casual no pressure offering makes your chest warm and stomach flutter. Biting your lip you try to contain the grin threatening to split your face before joining him at the workbench and sliding the gloves on.

Grabbing two chisels, he throws one on his belt. Then he picks up alo with two hammers, hanging both those on his toolbelt as well. You start to get distracted by the way Jake's tool belt sits on his slim hips.

"Yes. Jess managed to expedite it for us in a special order. I'm so excited. You see, in the spring the sap warms up and it runs through the tree so it allows us to do this –" Jake explains to you. He angles the chisel into the bark, working it in. With a controlled hit from the hammer the flat head sinks in a little bit deeper. Wiggling the chisel makes the bark displace, allowing Jake to grab it and pull it downwards. A long section of the bark comes off before splintering and breaking off the log. The action reveals the light colored, bright, 'green' (fresh) wood underneath.

"I can tell you've never experienced stripping before," Jake says cheekily while wiggling his eyebrows at you. You feel a bit amazed at the beautiful gem that's been revealed to you.

"What?" you gasp.

"Stripping is what this process is called," Jake answers while letting out a full bellied laugh, going so far as slapping his own leg. You roll your eyes at him but can't help your smile and excitement on joining in.

"Some people strip wood with a power washer, but I think that's lazy. On top of the laziness, it prematurely ages and strips the wood of its natural oils, color, and saps! If we take our time though, we can get a longer lasting, vibrant cut. It's a lot of work, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run."

Jake takes his chisel and edges it under the bark again. When he pulls the long grey strip of bark gives way with a crunch that sizzles against your ears. Jake continues to slowly peel more away to reveal the fresh color underneath, not pressuring you to join the process at any point.

However when you do ask to help Jake is patient going over the process with you, explaining the best angle to keep the chisel. He provides steady guidance, only leaving you alone in the process when you tell him that you have a handle on what you're doing.

You help Hangman strip one of the logs and just as he had said, it is a slow process. It is however extremely satisfying and lots of fun. He puts on a podcast after consulting you to find one you would both enjoy. At one point you accidentally dig your chisel too far under the bark and feel it sink slightly into the 'green' sap softened wood. Your heart drops, and when you peel it back you see that it has pulled a chunk of wood, leaving a gouge in the trunk. You freeze, noticing the damage of the mistake, pulling your eyes to where Jake is working. Just as you start to wonder if there could be a way to fix or hide your mistake, Jake looks over at you with a wide smile that crinkles around his eyes.

"Oh wow," he gasps, the smile falling. Anxiety claws at your throat, and you instinctively prepare yourself for something bad to happen, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. Jake's hand gently pushes yours out of the way and dips over the gouge pushing away some of the sap that was springing from the area. Jake clicks his tongue before saying. "Look at this, sugar"

"I know and–" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you.

"I've seen this color juniper, at least not in person" Jake tells you breathily. You are momentarily surprised that his words do not contain any anger, veiled insults, or condescending tones. Then you remember that this is Jake, so of course you're not going to 'be in trouble'. It takes your eyes a moment to drop down to the thick trunk again. Where you had damaged the wood, it revealed a bright purple streak under the top grain.

"It's purple," you say, eyes widening.

"It does look purple does it?" Jake asks excitedly. "That means at the very least that vein will look like that through the trunk. If not all the pigmentation in the grain."

"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask.

"Sometimes red, but not purple. This one was a real treasure find, sugarpie" Jake answers. His grin was so wide you were a little worried about his face. However, before you know it, he is sweeping you in his arms and rocking you playfully while saying, "We are going to have to do something really special with this one."

"Puzzle table," You say as if that was the most obvious answer. That was the whole reason he had gotten all these logs of juniper, after all.

"Yeah, maybe for the puzzle table," Jake says noncommittally, though as he hums you can tell that won't be the case. He kisses your forehead and mutters a thank you.

Jake gives you another thank you, a little while later, once you two have started to work again. "We wouldn't have known about the color until I went to cut planks and then there would have been a lot less I could do to preserve the color."

"I made a mistake, Jake."

"Not all mistakes are bad," he says kindly. "Sometimes they are just something that's meant to happen. They have to happen for us to learn something."

"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back.

"I make mistakes, but unfortunately, like everything I do, it's to the max. Either the best or the worst," he trails off with a shrug.

"Because you refuse to be middling?" You ask him teasingly. You aren't surprised when his sharp elbow playfully taps into your arm, and if you bruise later-- it will be worth it.

"We never should have read and watched Little Women," Jake grumbles. However, his open and light body language make it very clear to you he is being playful. You traced the shape of his dimples with your eyes enjoying the ease they brought to you. They seemed like the perfect place to rest your thumbs on his cheeks. It's nice how Jake comes with a built in guidance system. From his dimples, to the smile lines that will age nicely into kind crows feet all pointing to the freckle-mole by his right eye. You had already mapped out every place you wanted to kiss, given the opportunity.

"You loved them both," you remind Jake.

"Of course I did. It is a heart warming, stunning story. But you don't always have to make fun of how I teared up a little bit." Jake tells you, adopting a frown. Teared up was a bit of a down play on what had happened but you didn't call Jake out on that part. It wasn't a bad thing for men to get emotional and cry.

"I only tease because you were upset about it for the entire next day. Which honestly was so sweet."

"It's not sweet, Sugar." Jake groans.

"Jake, let's not do this dance," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him and turning back to your work on the trunk. You are much more careful now in how you place the chisel under the bark. In the middle of stripping off the next piece the podcast shuts off and some slow country music replaces it.

"Now, Sugar," Jake says in an extra thick southern accent that makes you narrow your eyes. He eases in close to you and pulls the chisel out of your hand sliding it in his tool belt. Unbuckling it Jake sets it on the bench. Coming back to your side he takes your hand, delicately. Jake pulls your work gloves from each finger. Intentional and steady, the pads of his fingers brush against your revealed skin. He tosses the gloves to the side as well, and with your now free hands pulls you closer to him, towards the open space in the middle of the garage.

"What dance exactly don't you want to do?" Jake asks you, starting to sway to the music and encouraging you to join him in the simple steps. Once you do he gleefully spins you in time with the music and draws you back even closer to his chest after.

Blowing out a sigh you melt into his embrace. Dancing with Jake was different than any other man; he was confident and incharge, firm enough with his hold that there wasn't any space for you to really fall out of step with him, but he left enough room so you didn't feel like he was forcefully dragging you through the steps. He was good about taking the worry of thinking about the steps away from you, allowing you to just enjoy the movement and how his broad body felt pressed so close.

"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise."

"Ouch," Jake says. You lean back further resisting the hold he has in moving you. Jake doesn't allow the movement though, continuing to step dance to the music guiding you with him.

"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad.

"No, no. I might have deserved that one," Jake answers, as the song wraps up, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't let go of you though, just adjusts his steps, leads his steps into the next one.

"Let's find a different dance you do like," he says after a bit, shuffling you in his arms. "For example, we know you love the Texas two step."

"Do I?" You ask him with a laugh.

"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?"

Jake turns you around the open space in the garage, going through dances he knows until you are both laughing. When he suggests cooking dinner and watching Dancing with the Stars for some new ideas you readily and happily agree, especially when he reminds you the logs will still be there tomorrow, and there is no real need to rush since you have at least a week until the sap is too dry to easily strip anymore.

…

"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion."

"Well, she might if I'm pregnant," Marlee responds in a small voice that doesn't match her typical outgoing demeanor. You almost drop your phone but manage to keep your grip tight.

"Marlene Machado… First of all, that would be illegal, and we would file a report with HR. And secondly, is there something you are wanting to tell me?"

"No!" Marlee says, "I don't know what you're talking about, me pregnant?! That's crazy talk. Maybe you're the one who's pregnant."

"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone.

"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet."

"That's okay, Marls. It's only been a few months of this new medicine."

"Yeah, well um I guess that leads to my next problem."

"What's that?"

"What are your plans for Saturday?"

"I don't have any plans." You say running through your mental calendar to check.

"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking."

"So Javy is involved?" You clarify.

"What? Of course, he is!" Marlee says sounding affronted at even the concept of not including her husband, which makes you almost smile for real.

"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh.

"We'll pick you up. Then we'll carpool to the airport. Don't worry I already made signs. Then we want to take y'all to Olive Garden."

You distantly hear Javy yelling, "When we are there, we are family."

Marlee takes a moment to giggle, "I'll make sure you and Jake drink a bottle of wine. Preferably one each. Trust me, nothing helps with the ‘we haven't seen each other in six months’ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!"

You aren't successful in catching your phone this time and it slams to the ground. You're frozen staring down at it, only managing to shake yourself and pick it up when you hear Marlee saying your name in concern.

"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?"

"Oh no, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," you answer the pit in your stomach growing till it feels like it might swallow you whole.

"You don't need help with anything for tomorrow do you?" Marlee asks worriedly. You take a glance around the house. You had worked hard keeping things orderly and together while Jake had been gone. You knew how worried he was that things would change while he was away. It hadn't been easy and there were a few weeks there when you hadn't been able to keep yourself afloat very well.

"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard.

"Any cleaning or organizing or any of that. Groceries so you and Jake don't have to go shop. Javy hates going to the store when he comes home. I guess there is something especially frustrating about them," Marlee trails off. You can tell that she is picking up on your off mood, and of course she was. She probably expected you to be ecstatic that Jake was coming home, and maybe you would have been if you had known about it.

You realize there isn't a way out of this so you have to concede a truth to her. You bite your lip and let your eyes frantically comb over the house again before finally whispering. "He hasn't said anything to me… about coming home."

When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?"

"Not a word," you respond solemnly.

"I'm sorry for ruining the surprise."

"I'm glad you did. I'll definitely want to clean and shop like you mentioned. And as nice as your plan sounded, maybe not this time. You two are the sweetest ever."

"I still feel bad. Are you sure you don't need help with anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Marlee!" You were not fine.

"Wait, babes, I'm worried."

"Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, yeah? I love you!" You hang up the phone and stare at it blankly. Trying to process the new information you had just gotten. Looking around the house you realized you weren't even close to ready for Jake to come home.

You spend all of your free time panicking, cleaning and organizing the house, trying to make sure everything was just perfect for when Jake comes home. You almost had a breakdown when you couldn't remember if the quilt on his bed had been green or dark blue when he left.. The smallest details were haunting you. You had spent nearly an hour working up the courage to erase the chalkboard in the kitchen. Worried that you would forget some of the more important reminders, you erase everything but what you deemed Jake needed to know, like things that had come up concerning the house. It leaves a choppy, oddly spaced list, but you don't think you will have the energy to rewrite it without crying.

You were asleep when Jake came home. Waking up to sounds that are familiar and yet gone enough that they don't sound right, confuses your tired mind before you are startled into wakefulness, fully placing that for the first time in 6 months someone else is cooking in your kitchen. Your alarm is slightly eased when you check your phone and see a text from Marlee.

We're here with a gift, come down stairs as soon as you wake up <3

While you were put at ease knowing some manic axe murderer isn't in your house, you almost feel like you would prefer that to what you now know is waiting for you downstairs. You sit in your room for nearly an hour trying to work out what to do, if you should confront Jake and how to approach it, hoping inspiration or bravery will strike you into moving. It never does though, and instead there is a heavy handed knock on your bedroom door.

Taking a big gulp, not having the strength to find your voice, you slowly creak the door open. You lift your eyes up and unexpectedly find Javy on the other side of the door.

"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Javy says cheerfully. It takes you a few deep breaths to answer from your surprise. You don't know what the look on your face is, but the next thing you know, Javy is sweeping you up into a tight hug. You are frozen though, still strung out on what this must mean, that Jake is home.

"Is he?" You start to ask, but not sure how you actually want to finish the sentence: home, safe, okay, the same. Javy doesn't respond, he just squeezes you harder. You try asking your question again to get an answer. "Is Jake?"

"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms.

"I thought it was going to be this evening."

"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute."

"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either.

"He will be okay," Javy says lightly.

"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt.

"It'll all take us some time to readjust and recalibrate. Just don't push him, and more importantly yourself too hard. Okay?" Javy says pulling away from the hug after another squeeze. You nod numbly, not entirely sure you know what he means but it is comforting to know your friend is here.

When you don't make a move to follow Javy towards the door when he starts to retreat he levels you with a concerned look.

"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door.

You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jake– how can you love someone who willfully hasn't talked to you in 6 months? The words don't come out though, because in spite of it all, you do love him. You love him so much it hurts, and you made that choice even as Jake actively warned you against it. Javy waits patiently for you to respond, which just makes you feel like squirming more.

"I do not see what that has to do with anything," you try to deflect but Coyote frowns at you and shakes his head.

"It's because he makes you feel better than a million bucks right?" Javy presses on with the question.

"Yeah, sometimes." You concede thinking of how it was before Jake left.

"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?"

"Don't know if I love Jake because of that. I think those are just side benefits. I love Jake just by virtue of him being Jake." You say trying to explain how you feel and Javy nods along to your words.

"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this.

"It's going to be okay. Marlee and I are here to play interference as long as you two need it. Remembering those things you love about him will help get through the rough patch. He is really worried about doing something wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?"

"I would say he is worried about hurting you." And you had to resist the urge to laugh, because it was already much too late for that. Jake had been hurting you for months now.

"Has something gone wrong before, or is he just scared?"

Javy doesn't answer your question and he avoids your gaze and stares hard at a far wall. "Hangman and I aren't always stationed together."

"Oh, I see."

"You're going to have to give him some grace and time; he will even out, I promise. If it gets too bad you can always call me, okay?" Javy's eyes meet yours again, and he gives you a sad smile. "I love Jake too, you know."

"Yeah, I know you do." You reassure him. "Thanks Coyote, you are a good friend to him, and me too."

Javy is then urging you to finally leave your room, opening the door and gesturing for you to step out. He is asking you to be brave, and it's a lot easier to face your fears when you know someone else is there to help, just in case.

"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open.

"I am once again begging Javy to run away with me." You yell back to her playfully. Giving Javy one last tight hug and a muttered thank you, he strides confidently down the stairs. Anxiety and nerves eat away at your every step leaving a sour taste on your tongue. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, as you descend the stairs, still not ready to actually see Jake.

Instead you keep your eyes trailed on Javy where he has automatically drifted to his wife's side and is already wrapping himself around her and kissing her cheek.

"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke.

"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh.

"I wasn't worried," she tells him. "I know there's only one person you would leave me for."

"I would never leave you," Javy responds, dropping the playfulness from his voice. However, Marlee persists.

"That's not true, we both know if Jake asked, you wouldn't even hesitate." The couple both turn their eyes towards the kitchen, which you realize is where Jake must be. You are frozen on the last step of the stairs, unable to take your eyes off Marlee and Javy, even as they expectantly look back and forth between where you are standing and where he is.

You decide you aren't brave enough, that you can't actually do this. You need to retreat up the stairs into your room and pack all of your things in order to get out of here as soon as possible. Jake was back now, all the responsibility you had to watch and take care of the house was released from your shoulders. Never facing him again seems like the obvious solution, you don't know why you had never considered it before.

"I wouldn't ever ask Javy to run away with me, he snores too much," Jake says. His voice tricks your eyes into looking towards the kitchen. Thinking about Jake Seresin and seeing him are two distinctly different things. He is handsome, Jake always has been handsome, but after so long of not seeing him, it's glaring, breathtaking.

You think you had expected him to change, which doesn't really make sense. Half a year, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't very long. You think maybe his uniform fits him a bit more snugly, that he looks even more fit than before. You weren't prepared… you weren't prepared at all. And now you are stuck because he is looking back at you. Jake blinks at you, and you stare wide eyed, too afraid if your eyes close for even a second he will be gone.

"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says.

"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you."

Jake flashes you one of his perfect practiced smiles and a wink. Then he gestures to the bowls and pans in front of him, "I'm making french toast."

You wait a second, having to choke back a sob threatening to bubble in your chest. Then say, "I'm sure that will be good."

Javy and Marlee's analyzing the two of you makes the awkwardness press in harder. Gulping, you try to seem casual about walking towards the kitchen. Jake watches you intently. At the last minute you change your mind and veer down the hallway towards the front door instead.

"Sorry, I just have some errands I need to run," You announce loudly, quickening your step. Fumbling with the locks you burst out the front door, and stand heaving on the front porch. Gripping the railing hard, you lean against it trying to brace yourself.

A minute later you hear the door open, and you close your eyes tight, wishing you had been smart enough to walk further away. There is a slight clunk against the ground and you see a pair of your shoes next to your feet.

"Thought you might need shoes," Jake says quietly. Fuck, this hurt so much more than you though it would. You thought having him home would feel like a relief, not a fresh stab wound. You just shake your head, not sure you can say anything. Jake waits patiently but after several long minutes, he breathes out a quiet sigh.

"Okay. Well. I think I should just apologize and get on with it. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." You can't stop the hitching sob that falls from your throat.

"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me."

"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests.

"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better.

"Well I do. I want us to have a fight, because you should be mad at me. You should be yelling at me and cursing the ground I walk on. You should've burned down this house!" He exclaims, and you can hear his frustration. You open your eyes to find Jake standing stiff and straight next to the slightly ajar front door. Hands clenched tight, Jake was staring at like you were water and he had been stranded in the desert for days, parched. A direct sighting of his green eyes is all it takes to break your resolve.

"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.

"You know exactly why."

Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you.

"You don't have to be this saint you know. You don't have to be this perfectly stable person for me because you feel like that's what I need. Please don't let me get away with hurting you."

"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly.

"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of confirming that you are the bad guy you've convinced yourself you are. So, what would you like me to say instead?"

"I guess I want you to listen to the fact that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I left, I'm sorry for how I behaved, I—"

"Are you really sorry for what happened between us?" You ask in a small voice. You lower your eyes to look at the ground, not wanting to be too confrontational.

"Of course I am," he sighs. It's a stab to your heart. You had treasured the long heartbreakingly beautiful evening you had with Jake before he left, and hearing him say he doesn't feel the same is harrowing.

"Are you—" you start to ask but stop yourself. You ball up all the hurt in your chest trying to rationalize and compartmentalize. Realizing this is another one of those times you had to fill in the gaps. It was time you refocused on the realities at hand. There were no promises besides the one you had made. That you would love him regardless, and continuously. Reminding yourself this fact helps, you could be upset after, later. Every moment actually with Jake should be treasured, this was the first moment you were getting with him in how long and of course you had ruined it.

"I'm sorry for every other thing I know I should be, and everything I willfully chose not to know too. I'm sorry, and well I want to go on forever. I want to keep telling you I'm sorry every second. So, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times more. Like you deserve."

"Jake, stop. Sometimes the more times you say something the cheaper the words have become. So let's keep this one valuable. I'm sorry for pushing, and you've said sorry too. We can move on now."

"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin.

"Yes, Jake, be plain. That's the best option for us."

"If we step over lines?"

"We say something, stop and talk about it."

"Okay." He agrees, "We have to talk about the other thing now too."

"What thing?" you ask.

"My question, what happened between us." He says as if he hadn't just told you part of him regrets it.

"You asked to be selfish with me Jake, and I said yes. I don't regret that, and I'm not mad about what happened. You had my permission and consent for all of it.'

"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains.

"Jake, I really…" You sigh and scrub your hand over your face. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

Jake nods silently in response. "Okay, Later, then."

"Sure, like when the Machados aren't listening on the other side of the door." You say loudly looking at the front door that was cracked, having no doubt your friends were being nosey. Not that you really blame them, you probably would have done the same thing.

"Do you still have errands to run?" he asks you. You look out to the street deciding you should at least take a small walk to sort through your thoughts.

"I'm just going to go on a little walk. I'm sure I'll be back by the time breakfast is done," you explain.

"Sounds good, sugar. Can I help you with your shoes?" He asks quietly. The only reason you nod your head yes is because you think you might start crying otherwise.

Jake kneels down and hesitates for a long moment before his large warm hand is on your ankle, helping angle your foot into the shoe. His thumb makes a brushing stroke across the skin before doing the same thing with the other foot. When you get back from your walk, it's awkward. You completely avoid Marlee's attempts to get you to go off and talk with her. Instead, you decide that the best course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong. You laugh at jokes and ignore how stilted and awkward Jake's conversation is with everyone. Then, after Marlee and Javy linger way too long, before you and Jake finally get them to leave. Once they are out the door and Jake has locked the door behind them, you both let out a sigh of relief. You meet Jake's gaze, both of you offer small smiles. It's the most normal moment you've had all day.

"Welcome back, Jake." You offer tentatively. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I kinda just want to nap," he admits. You part ways at the top of the stairs giving him a strained smile and retreat into your room; Jake's eyes don't leave you until the door is shut firmly in place.

It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response.

You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked.

"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door.

"I'm fine. Thanks," he yells back. You wait but when you don't get anything more, you have no choice but to leave him be and go back to your room. You don't actually even see Jake again until two nights later. You have been able to tell that he is home but Jake is as elusive as a ghost.

You run into him next when you open your door one night to get some water before bed. Jake is standing on the other side, holding two water bottles. Part of you has a hunch that he had been standing there for a while. He looks shocked but a little relieved when he sees you.

"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet.

"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?"

Jake nods his head along with your words, his eyebrows drawing together. Then he holds out a water bottle for you to take. "Can I just be here? Here, with you?"

"Of course, always." You say stepping backwards into your room leaving the door wide open for him. You shuffle to your bed and lift open the blankets ready to welcome him there with you. However, Jake drops the pillow he was holding on the floor nearby and lays down instead.

You want to ask him questions about it but the edge he is on isn't one you want to poke or prod in any direction. While you are still hurt, knowing he is here is safe again, with you is equally as soothing, a small dosage of pain medication.

"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case.

"It's too soft for me right now."

"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly.

"I can't sleep. It's the worst part. Everything is too quiet and too still and at the same time not quiet or still enough. I think I might go insane." He explains in a low voice.

"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically.

"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully.

"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration.

"Someday, at some point, we are going to have to talk about it," Jake says so carefully you know he is consciously holding back the taunting frustration he wants to put into the words.

"No, we really don't," You contradict him.

"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked.

You think you should give into him again. You should allow Jake to talk his heart out and seek penance from you. How this should be a time when you are strong for him. However, as much as you want to give Jake the world, there must be times that you curl around your own heart to try and shield it from hurt.

"Listen, Jake. I don't need to know why you didn't talk to me while you were gone. No matter what your explanation is, it's going to hurt my feelings. So, I would rather not know. Please, let me pretend something a little kinder."

He is silent, so very quiet for so long you almost wonder if he has left. Evaporated from existence, that he never came home at all, and you've been living an elaborate hallucination. You turn on your side just to check in the soft lamp light that Jake is still laying on the floor.

"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think."

Jake's words feel like a punch in the gut, rattling around like a wrecking ball, leaving a bloody massacre behind. With a heavy blown out breath you say, "No it wouldn't have."

"No, it wouldn't have," he sighs in agreement.

"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before."

"Before?" He asks.

"Yes," you say, clutching your blankets tight. "If I could pretend that you never got orders and didn't leave. I would jump to that in an instant.

"You want to pretend nothing happened?"

"Isn't that an idea?" You huff a small broken laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"What if I don't remember exactly how things went before?" Jake wonders.

"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously.

There are several long minutes of silence where you wait for him to say something. Finally, you hear Jake let out a long heavy audible groan while shifting. "If you don't want to talk it out. Pretending is probably our best option then. Otherwise, what are we going to do, sweets?"

"Sugar," You correct automatically.

"Hmm?"

"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets"

"Ah, that's right, and darling. I got it mixed up because you're so sweet to me."

"I'll help you. If you don't remember how it goes."

"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either.

"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually.

"It's fine enough, I guess." You answer as lightly as you can. Then you go through another bout of silence. You nervously play with the edge of a blanket hoping that this tension with Jake will ease. It's always gone away in the past, but that was also before.

"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again.

"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm.

"Sugar?

"Yes, Jakers?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks. You laugh lightly, feeling a bit of the nervousness ease at his tone which has become much lighter.

"I never understand why people say that. Aren't you already asking a question?" Jake chuckles low in his chest in amusement. He doesn't follow along with the joke though, just leaves it there hanging in the air.

"The answer is yes," you tell him casually.

"You don't know what the question is."

"Yes, you can ask me a question," you clarify in a whisper. Jake makes some rustling sounds and you hear him come closer to you.

"Are you sure that bed is big enough for two?" He asks.

"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease.

With a nod Jake crawls onto bed and turns to face you on his side. However, he doesn't scoot in close like you expect. He is stone still on the other side of the bed, laying on top of the covers, only shifting his pillow once.

"What would you do, if I told you the last time I said yes, it had an extended warranty?" You ask while turning on your side to face where you are in the bed now.

"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks.

"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely.

"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?"

"I think it's because we are selfish. Maybe it's a little bit because I don't want the memory of the last time I tasted you to be bitter."

Jake rolls away from you onto his back, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Stop letting me take things from you."

"We both deserve a night where we are selfish with each other, I think." You tell him reaching across the gap between you. You set a hand on Jake's cheek ignoring the prickly stubble there.

"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch.

"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you.

"It was supposed to be just a kiss last time too." Jake's eyes are bright where they burn into yours. He inches a little closer and you lean forwards as well, reducing the gap between you two that much more until there is just a miniscule space now.

"I know," You answer against his lips, letting your hand slip into his hair. Jake's lips move with yours crowding in close, like he is trying to breathe all of you into himself and commit you to memory.

"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps.

"A promise?" You question.

"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.

"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn.

"That's true, but I'm willing to try anyway." He kisses you again and dips his tongue into your mouth. Jake swallows your little whimpers; he tastes just as good as he always has. It's very easy to be selfish with Jake "Hangman" Seresin.

…

It's a slow road to trying to get back to normal. Jake circles around the house like he is lost. Picking things up and setting them down, starting conversations with you and leaving halfway through them. Shadows stretch across his face and his increasingly dark stubble and facial hair. You are a little surprised to find that he doesn't have a red beard like most blonds do. The facial hair only serves to make him look increasingly gaunt.

Jake even denies your offer to start a puzzle together, telling you that wasn't something he could handle at the moment. You try not to seem like you were watching him like a hawk, but you definitely are. Until one day he stood up from the table in the middle of dinner and announced that he was going camping.

"Oh okay. Do you know how long?"

"Yeah," Jake sighs, "I'll be home before next weekend, and I promise you when I get home I'll be normal again."

"You don't have to be any which way for me Jake," you tell him gently.

"I know, but I need to do this for me too, sugar." He explains while putting away dishes. You watch him complete the task; Jake is antsy even with his hands occupied. None of the projects or tasks he has picked up since being home have been enough to occupy him with real distraction. Two days ago, you had walked into the garage where Jake had rigged up his camping hammock to the ceiling which you felt like he was swaying precariously 8 feet off the ground. On top of that Jake had music blasting, a documentary on Yosemite playing, while also whittling a piece of wood.

"Okay. I'll miss you." You eventually say. Jake purses his lip, and after a heavy gulp he nods his head. Once the last of the dishes is away he spins on his heel and heads towards the garage door.

You hurry after him, "Jake?"

"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory.

"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised.

"Yes, I packed earlier today."

"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly.

Jake freezes. He rubs his hands across his face pressing briefly into his eyes while sighing a very soft "Fuck." Then he turns to you fully looking abashed. "Yeah, sugar. What do you need before I go? I'm sorry I should have asked that first."

"No, it's no big deal. Honestly." You tell him backing off not wanting to be too much. Jake shushes you softly while stepping closer.

"Tell me how it goes. I need to remind myself about this part."

"Well," you start off hesitantly, "normally I would get a hug goodbye."

"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms, draping them high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.

"How's the next part going again, sweets?"

"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest.

"Now?" He whispers.

"You would probably kiss my forehead."

"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily.

"I'll leave that one up to you, Jake." He unwraps a hand from your waist to hold the back of your neck, keeping you steady.

"And if I want to kiss somewhere else?"

"You've got my permission Jake," you tell him trying to keep want and desire out of your voice. Jake parts his lips and leans in closer brushing his lips to grace over your cheekbone.

"You can have it, Jake," you remind him.

"No," he answers and closes his eyes. "Not again, not yet. I'll be home in a few days."

Once Jake leaves you know there is something you have to do to help him. It's an idea that gets stuck in your head and then you can't get it out. He had been spending time daily in his hammock in the garage, and you noted that Jake had taken it with him when he left. You missed how he used to casually be in the living room, so you started brainstorming some ideas on how you might entice Jake to join you again.

So, you go to the kitchen and pull out the rolodex, find the card dedicated to Miss Celeste and give it a call. Russell answers the phone, and you can hear the man smiling through the phone as you ask after his wife. It turns out Jake's grandmother is just as blunt but kind hearted as you had been led to believe. After a longer conversation with her, she and Russ offer you some advice and tips

You aren't wholly sure how you managed to get it all done. Eventually having to call Coyote to help you move some of the living room furniture. However, after significantly less sleep than you already get, there is a large comfy hammock in the living room. You and Javy had to sandwich Jake's large comfy chair much closer to the couch than it was previously, but y'all managed to make it all fit.

Jake comes home from camping quietly late one night. The stubble he had been supporting before is a full-on beard now, and his hair is longer than you have ever seen it. This look is intimidating to you in lots of ways, like some mirrored version of Jake that you don't know. He offers. quick hello when he comes in from the garage, breezing past you and towards the stairs.

Jake doesn't make it to the stairs though instead he stands frozen at the edge of the living room for five whole minutes just staring at the hammock. You watch him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

"It's a surprise for you." You say after the amount of time he is standing there increases to a concerning duration. Compelled to do something you explain, "I know your hammock has been one of the only places you have been able to relax."

"This is very sweet. I appreciate it." Jake starts evenly. It's contradictory as you see him grit his teeth, and his fists clench and unclench at his sides.

"You don't like it?" You ask him.

"It's not that," Jake tries to explain. "It's just you can't randomly switch the living room around and add new furniture like this."

Your mouth drops open in shock. This might be one of the first times Jake has ever told you there is something you can't do in the house. It's jarring, he has always spent so much time tailoring everything to your likes, desires, and aesthetics that you hardly even think about the house as Jake's and Jake's alone anymore. Frustration bubbles under the shock twisting into anger at the situation. You were trying your best, doing all the things you thought you should, and it still didn't seem like enough.

"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes.

"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room.

"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis.

"Well, what did you expect? I left for a few days and now there is a hammock in the living room. That's an outdoor item you brought indoors," Jake responds snappily. It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions.

"You act like you haven't done the same thing," you tell him, gesturing frustratedly at the juniper chest. "I was doing something nice for you. However, if you don't like it, I'm sure you're more than capable of taking it down and moving your furniture back and fixing your living room."

You leave Jake in the living room and go to the kitchen. He grumbles to himself upset which makes you feel even more on edge. However, you refuse to let Jake blowing back into the house prevent you from finishing the dishes you had been stacking and putting away.

"It's our living room," he finally calls back to you.

"You aren't acting like it."

"You could have given me some warning," he reasons, but it has a slightly accusatory tone.

"When Jake?" You ask him, upset. "When you called me and told me you were coming home? When you text? How exactly was I supposed to let you know?"

He doesn't have an answer and you slam the door of a cupboard harder than you intend. Inside, the stack of bowls were more precariously placed than you thought. The cupboard closes and bounces back open, the bowls ejecting and crashing hard against the ground. Several of them shatter when they make impact, sending ceramic shards flying across the area.

You aren't expecting the sound to trigger you. It most likely does because of how high strung and worried you already are. The house is such a safe comforting space you don't really have a game plan for when PTSD attacks hit you here. A chill makes its way up your spine, while the sound of shattering glass rings echoing in your ears, for much longer than it echoes in the room. It's all it takes for some flip to switch in your head.

Managing to take small gasping breaths, you try to assess the damage of the sharp ceramic pieces around you, categorizing how many bowls had broken. It doesn't help you to fight off sudden panic that is creeping in when you notice one of the destroyed bowls was one Miss Celeste had made for Jake. It was a soup bowl stamped with a silly song Jake liked to sing anytime he used it. Distantly you hear Jake calling your name but can't fully process it. He is stepping towards you, fear rings through your body, and instinctually you go to step back away from him. Flinching hard every one of your muscles feels like it's attached to a live wire. Your fight or flight mode activated but you are still mostly frozen in the middle with short panting breaths, your eyes flit across the room trying to find a suitable escape path.

"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up, showing you his open body language. Your breaths continue to come out gasping, but eventually you are able clear the cloudiness up enough with the help of Jake's soothing.

"Jake, help," you whimper. Training your eyes on Jake you think that he is the only available escape, from the glass around you and this attack. At your words, his whole face shifts overcome with a serious ‘get things done’ demeanor.

"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?"

Jake is shoving his feet into some boots, then crunching through the broken ceramics and glass before picking you up. He carries you to the living room, setting you down on top of the closed puzzle table. Once you are there, he kneels in front of you. Picking up each of your feet, Jake carefully examines them for injury. Then gives the rest of your body a scan; he is clearly relieved to find that there weren't any cuts.

"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess.

"I can clean that," you try to tell him in a weak attempt for Jake to stop.

"You just stay there looking pretty and take some breaths, sweets." He responds from the kitchen. You decide to give in, which is probably for the best with the way the numb panic is still very present at the edge of your consciousness. Your heart is still beating erratically as well.

Jake is expedient and thorough about cleaning, going through the whole kitchen and dining room with his shop vacuum searching for any hiding slivers. When finished he makes his way to the living room and crouches by your side again sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I should have waited and asked you before changing the living room."

"You don't need to ask. I've just been on edge and wasn't expecting it. I do appreciate the thought. And you know I do love hammocks so, I'm sure I'll love it."

"We don't have to keep it," You remind him.

"We are taking it for a trial run," Jake responds. Then a few moments later he lets out a heavy sigh and says, "You know we are doing it all already, right?"

"What's that?"

"It" Jake says gesturing with his free hand in the air. "We fit together. We're," Jake takes the slightest pause, his hand grips yours so tight you almost ache, then he drops it completely. "A bridle joint or maybe, a box joint."

"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying.

"No, we aren't. I think it might just be this, Sugar. It's just us." Jake says the words like a confession, an admission, an honest reality.

You try to analyze the look in his eyes, but over anything else all you can focus on is how tired he is. You pick Jake's hand up again. Standing from the couch, pulling him with you. Jake asks no questions; he just follows you as you guide him. You tug him with you to each of the doors as you make sure each one is locked, jiggling them to be sure. Then he follows you to the kitchen as you grab two of his glass water bottles. You hand one to him and take his, gripping it tightly while his other hand remains loose in yours.

You keep leading him then as he follows you up the stairs. Finally, You open the door to his room, and freeze in the doorway. A gasp catches in your throat. It's empty. The whole room. Not a mattress or a bedframe, no side tables or a dresser. It's all gone. There is one chest, a basket with some blankets, and one pillow. Jake stands close behind you, and you hear him audibly sigh into your ear.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and pull Jake through the room, leaving no room to address the issue and heading straight to the bathroom. You turn on the water for the bath and let the tub start filling. Turning to Jake and finally, let go of his hand. He looks lost at you, and you bring your hand up to lift his chin up a little higher. Jake takes your direction and those gorgeous sea-glass green eyes look at you.

You tug at his shirt twice before he follows the movement and pulls it off. You step out of your own pants but otherwise stay clothed. Jake follows you sliding off his jeans. You go to Jake's bath chest still in place and grab a scent you think will be soothing, adding it to the bath.

You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head in a small no. When you start to pull off your shirt, Jake's hands stop you there too. He gives you a pleading look, and you shrug back, leaving your shirt in place. You motion for Jake to get in the bath, and he wordlessly does as you say. Making room for you between his knees, Jake scoots until he hits the back of the tub. You step into the warm water and slide down to settle in.

Jake's head falls forward so his forehead presses into the space where your shoulder and neck meet, taking deep breaths. You shudder, feeling the air of his breath against your neck. Jake's large hands are gripping the side of the bathtub hard. You are shocked that the feeling of the wet clothes sticking to your skin hasn't rocketed you out of the bathtub. But like it often is, it's hard to focus on anything that's not Jake when he is this close to you.

After a while, when Jake lifts his head and leans back, you do as well, leaning into his chest, his arms slide around you, pulling you even closer, as you draw imaginary designs on one of his forearms.

"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him.

"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly.

"Before me?" And that actually makes you want to cry because it sounds so true. Things certainly would have been less variable without you around in Jake's life. No one to throw him off his routines. And before him weren't you better able to protect your heart better than this? You had been calloused and strong before. Living with Jake and in this house has been like a fine grit sandpaper buffing you so now you only have smooth soft edges.

Has that been the way it's been between the two of you this whole time, something bad that was disguised as good? You can't come up with an answer, and apparently, neither can he. So it sits there, wilting, rotting between the two of you.

The silence is loud and almost echoes in the bathroom, with no room to hide. You finally take one of Jake's hands in yours and play with his fingers. He seems content with this, relaxing even further into the water. One of his knees occasionally bumping into you playfully, as if you could forget that he was there, as if there were anything besides Jake on your radar.

Then he is whispering your name against your neck, right behind your ear. Gooseflesh bursts across your skin, and his beard is coarse and scratchy against your sensitive skin not having been trimmed once since it started growing. You try to shift away but his lips follow you. Tired of the game you reach a hand behind you and fist it into Jake's long hair, tightly tugging his face away from your neck. Jake gasps in response.

You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would have descend into tickling. Jake grabs your wrist and turns it, and then ghosts his lips over your pulse point. After two more soft kisses there he presses three to your palm, and on each finger. Each press of his lips is intoxicating even in a place as insignificant as your hand. With your ring finger Jake's kisses are three times as long and lingering. It's an action that has you slamming your eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping. He finally releases your arm and you drop your hand back into the warm water.

Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body heat. However, it is the feeling, the emotional warmth of it that makes the difference. You tremble slightly feeling completely overwhelmed, the idea of being anywhere else or trying to move is devastating to your system.

"Sugar pie?"

"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietly

"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"

"No."

"Our mental health?"

"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." You tell him. Jake nods along, in understanding with your words.

"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?"

"Not sure even you could swing that one, honey." You respond. Jake's eyes and whole face positively light up moments after you say the words.

"Honey?"

You hum thinking it over before smiling and nodding, "Yup."

"But that's my nickname for you," Jake says in a pouting tone but the bright expression he is wearing hasn't dimmed.

"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pie—"

"I called you Huckleberry pie once and—"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off.

"Well no more honey for you anymore. You use half the sweet names under the sun, I'm allowed to have one. And I think it's honey." You cup Jake's scratchy bearded cheeks and smile softly. "You're my honey, now."

"Why honey?"

"Because you're so sweet."

"I'm not," Jake says brokenly, all playfulness having been sucked out of him. His head is heavy in your palm as he eases into your hold.

"You're sweet," you repeat more firmly. Then continue, "Plus I can just imagine how snug and happy you would be in those honey combs."

"Hexagons are one of the superior shapes," Jake sighs.

"Sure they ar, and you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters hiding those sad green eyes from you.

"I never knew just how blond the sun could make your hair," You sigh when you reach the end, scratching back up his scalp to repeat the process. You are turned fully to face him now, sloshing the water a bit to settle more comfortably. However Jake doesn't move, he seems almost as if he could be a statue made of glowing gold.

"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders.

He squints a single eye open at you, and you freeze as if you've been caught. Instead Jake's hand's pull your knees to settle on either side of his hips. Dragging you that much closer to him. It makes your breath hitch and Jake's eyes darken, however, he still leaves a bit of space.

"One of my grandpas was Italian," Jake says with a quirk of his lips. The single eye he had opened closed as the smile melted off his face. Your hands resume their path, after massaging Jake's shoulders you knead his neck. Which just leads to playing with his hair again. Your train of thought was lost until you noticed a small light but fresh scar on the top of his bicep. You lean forward and gloss your lips over the skin there. Jake's hand tightens where he is holding your thighs. He takes a careful breath in through his nose, and a long exhale. He follows that up with two more shallow but steady breaths and then just like that the tension releases from his body as he releases the air out.

"Where did you learn how to breathe like that, cowboy?" You ask him, letting your thumb continue to trace the strange new scar you have been examining.

"Oh, so, I'm cowboy now?"

"Mr. Cowboy, my honey." You coo back. Jake's eyes flutter open again, he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded.

"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow.

"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later.

"I'm thinking, you did a whole summer of Vipassana, and meditation in some foreign country that made you have concerns about being that white guy(™)."

As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world. Suddenly, you find it unacceptable that his beard hides any part of them from your view. You see the hint of them but it's not the same you think as you trace the shape of one. Your left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered.

"We both know I could never do vipassana."

"I have evidence to the contrary," the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and you regret them instantly.

"Don't be mean to me," he begs you. In the same breath he speaks the words you are already halfway through saying, sorry.

"I'm working on leaving it I promise," You tell him.

"We don't have to leave it, we could talk about it." Jake suggests hopefully.

"We are leaving it Jake," you say back sharply and he snaps his mouth shut chewing at the side of his cheek for a moment before responding.

"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump.

"So, it wasn't meditation? Is this going to be another riveting USNA story?" You ask him, steering the conversation back on a lighter track.

"It was before Annapolis."

"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and resting your check against his bicep.

"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.

"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly.

"I had to take friendship classes in middle school."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information.

"This other kid and I hated each other, and we were constantly getting into it. The worst part is we had lockers right next to each other. He accidentally hit me with his locker, and I lost it. So, I slammed his head right back and we started brawling. Anyways, long story short, our school counselor made us take friendship classes, and taught us breathing techniques. It was all bull shit, but we ended up being friends afterwards, bonding over how stupid friendship class was."

"At least you got some good breathing techniques."

"Something like that," Jake laughs back.

"What's this one then? It's new." you say ghosting your lips over the scar you had found again. Jake sighs, glancing at the scar himself.

"You are going to be mad," he starts.

"Why would I be mad, honey?"

"I got two more moles removed." The admission makes you pull back and give Jake a weary suspicious glare.

"Have you not been wearing sunscreen again?"

"No, I've been wearing sunscreen ever since you told me about it, I promise. The Doc just asked about one of them and wanted to do a biopsy. So, I said he might as well just take them all off while he was at it."

"And?"

"Everything came back benign. Nothing to really worry about, Sugar."

"I always worry about you, Jakers." You sigh with relief and kiss that scar again, enjoying the feeling of having your head pillowed on his arm.

"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know.

"I don't want to make you worse, Jake."

"You don't make me worse. I am worse, no one has ever inspired me to act quite as selfishly as you have. I don't even know how to wholly be anymore without you."

"I just want to make things better for you."

Jake groans quietly, "Maybe someday it will finally click that you make everything better. That you are stunning, and gorgeous, and just over all the best."

"We could clear cut a forest, and not find a single tree that's sappier than you Jake." It inspires a quirk of his lips but not the laugh you were hoping for.

"You are probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet for a long time as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil of the night.

Eventually, You ask, "Jake, where are you?"

"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath.

"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no.

"Are you on the ocean?"

He feels the water around him briefly then settles his hands on your skin again. "It doesn't appear so."

"Are you on base?"

"No."

"So, where are you?"

"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers.

You examine him closely from his wet hair to the defined muscles of his shoulders and neck. How much muscle Jake gained deployment almost pushed him into a category you would describe as too buff, but not actually going over the edge. As you trace the shape of his face you can easily identify what one of the problems is.

"You are being suffocated," you tell him as your fingers trace up his cheeks and around through his hair there.

"Why do you have a beard Jake?" You ask in a gentle curious tone.

"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."

"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly.

"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water.

"Do you want help?"

"You want to give me a shave, sugar?"

"I'd be willing to give it a go if you feel like it would help," you answer plainly. He thinks about it before nodding.

"It would."

That's all you need to hear before you are stepping out of the bath. Immediately you hate how the wet material of your shirt clings to your skin. So, you quickly rip it off and throw it into the shower. Jake groans behind you and you point a finger back at him while grabbing fresh towels and Jake's shaving kit from beside the sink.

"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him.

"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body.

"You were two minutes from falling asleep."

"That was before," Jake whines as you come back to the bath and he sees you in even more detail.

You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. You sit so your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake close his eyes throwing his head back whispering a quiet "Fuck."

When his eyes open again, they are slightly dilated with lust. It makes you smile at him whispering, "hi there."

"Hi," he breaths back.

"Hi," you say again, smiling wider. Jake can't stop himself from smiling as well, lips drawn upwards. His hands trace up your bare sides and you give him a small glare. Grabbing his chin you tilt his head back once more.

"Yup, hold yourself just like that," You tell him, pausing to make sure he doesn't move. You start to lather up some shaving cream spreading it along this neck.

"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions.

"Not really. So, you might want to give me pointers. I don't want to cut your pretty face." You answer with a teasing tone.

Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then he starts to detail the intricate shaving ritual he normally keeps. You follow each one of the steps. It's a slow process, shaving him. You are worried that you will cut him or make some other mistake in the process. Jake isn't hesitant or shy about giving you sweet and gentle encouragement.

Finally, Jake's face is free of hair again. You help wipe away the remaining product, and dab on the aftershave in his kit you brought over. Jake winces but gives you a tentative smile when you stare at him examining your work. You smile back softly, setting things down that are in your way, feeling relieved to be done.

The two of you finish your bath before getting out and drying off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you head back to your room changing and settling into bed. Jake follows not long after in a pair of comfy pants and a soft muscle shirt. He asks if he can join you in bed even though you already pulled the covers back while waiting for him.

Jake takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable until he is laying on his side facing you, meeting your gaze as you shift to see him better. You lift a hand to cup his face enjoying the fresh smooth skin there.

"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently. Leaning forwards Jake angles his lips to barely brush over yours before he pulls back.

"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more.

"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips.

"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper.

"That's exactly the problem," Jake answers. "I won't do wrong by you again. And that means I don't want to rush anything. Are you in a hurry?"

"Does that have a timeline?" You ask, ignoring your frustration.

"It does in a general sense."

"Care to share?"

"Sure," Jake mutters tiredly into your neck. "I think it's been going for a while. Right?"

"That's right," You answer, letting your hand drift into his long hair. It is almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled before he started work again leaving you only a few days left to savor this. His eyes close, and a small smile graces his face. With a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp a tiny whine tumbles out of him. Jake seems too tired to care anymore. His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands.

"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask.

"As I see it, the rest of our lives. So, give or take sixty-ish more years."

"We are making it the long haul huh?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We will, so there's absolutely no reason to start at a sprint."

"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly.

Jake huffs into your neck, sucking in a deep breath he blows it out slowly tickling your skin. "I have a great comeback for that."

"Oh really?"

He hums in affirmation. Then he sleepily manages to crack an eye open and looks at you, while he mumbles, "But I am a sleepy boy. Wait, no… a sleepy man"

You chuckle and kiss Jake's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy boy"

"Sleepy man," he tries to correct you, but the words are hardly coherent. It takes less than five minutes before Jake is fully asleep, and you aren't far off yourself. Jake is so warm, and itis so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones. Falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake, even there in your dream you realize that still might not be enough.

…

Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry again, Tumblr wouldn't let me put it all here (and that it's so long). My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #house we share #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #gci3 #good comes in 3

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thetrashywritingwitch · 10 months

Text

“Be Still, Just for Me” Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 46

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

(all chapters are available in my masterlist!)

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.

During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.

Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist. ---------------

Chapter length: 26k (HIGHLY recommend reading on ao3, wattpad, or quotev if you are a mobile Tumblr user and don't use Tumblr desktop because you will have a hard time with lag or app crashing trying to read this fucking long post)

Warnings: M+ for language, Katsuki-typical threats of violence, mentions of panic attack, sexual content (nothing super explicit)

Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog so this post shows up in search results! They’re also in my profile header! <3

Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13

thanks to all my beta readers!!! @birinboom

@bananabossbitch, @dellappatca and @jems-all-in-a-wood and a few others who prefer to remain anonymous. NOTE: please ignore and forgive anytime i might’ve misspelled “Yaoyorozu” because I'll never learn how to spell her name correctly

Chapter Title: The Night We Met, Part II

_____________________________

The celebration on the other side of the outside garden grew quiet and eventually vanished as though muffled by a growing mound of indiscernible cotton. Bushes and creeping vines paused their benign swaying. As the world surrounding Katsuki gradually came to a halt, its energy seemed to seep into his bones and beneath his skin, buzzing and oscillating tortuously.

This isn’t real, he thought in desperation as his mouth went dry, eyes bulged, and chest tightened in disbelief. There, barely three meters away from him, stood a ghost shivering under the moonlight in a dress the deep red color of blood. Katsuki blinked, expecting you to vanish like you always did… yet you remained statue-still and staring stunned right back at him.

The glass in his hand slipped out of his trembling fingers, clattering onto the floor. Neither of you flinched as ice and alcohol stained the wood grain underfoot.

He remembered waking up this morning. Going on patrol with Mar. Arguing with Kirishima in the agency hallway. Feeding his cat. Riding his bike over here for his stupid birthday party… No, there was no way that the entire day's events and memories could have been more than an illusory dream.

…Then what kind of sick trick caused a hallucination of you to appear before Katsuki as if taunting him ceaselessly for six months wasn’t enough?

Voice hoarse, arid, and strained, he attempted to speak as if hearing his own voice might jolt him out of this mirage. “Are you a nightmare?”

Could you hear him? Would you answer? No, of course not. You never did; spirits couldn’t speak.

You winced at his words, his voice uncharacteristically brittle compared to the strong, unwavering tenor you were used to, the sound you dreamed of hearing just one more time. All you wanted to do was run to him and bury your face in his skin and bathe in his warmth and sob in his arms. But cinder blocks tied your feet to the ground. He looked almost scared, as if reaching out to touch him would splinter the tension and he’d crack beneath your fingertips; the fear and anxiety kept you immobile as the device in your shaking hands translated his words.

Peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you dared not blink as you managed to weakly shake your head in denial. “No, Katsuki… I’m not.”

More than anything you wanted to capture him, hold onto him, keep him close like a fragile treasure, but tension hung like tepid puddles after a thick rain - the kind that filled your nose and lungs with stale air and upended rot. Don’t cry, don’t cry yet. If you do, you’ll never stop. “W-why a nightmare?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck and disappeared into the collar of his pressed shirt. He quickly glanced at your hands gripped tightly around the device that somehow far exceeded the accuracy of your phone with its robotic Japanese inflection. But… your voice. It pierced between his ribs like a spear aimed with deadly accuracy to strike with poisonous memories dripping from the sharpened edge.

Commemorating you through the keepsakes was easy; everything observed months ago, he saw again behind closed eyes or whenever he took out his hidden gifts when waves of longing nostalgia washed over him. However, sight was just a single sense out of five. The language barrier became less noticeable and cumbersome over time as he focused on the tone and inflection of your voice. Though your singing and laughter stuck with him, Katsuki lamented that they became harder to recall with every passing day.

Dreams were satisfying and light, or comically nonsensical. The ones with you always began happily enough, and often alluded to memories he fought to remember and forget and remember and forget in a never ending cycle. But when morning came and Katsuki awoke, he knew that none of it was real and would never be real again; it might as well have been a nightmare. A looping display that haunted and taunted him knowing all that really remained of you, was just in his imagination.

Waiting for you to disappear just as he had six months prior, Katsuki stood staring, unmoving despite the wretched hum screaming under his skin.

“Because,” he started, “I always wake up."

Not understanding the connection between you and nightmares, you managed to force your feet to move a single step towards him. "I… no. Katsuki, I'm not a dream or nightmare or anything imaginary. I… I'm real and I'm here and-"

"You're not supposed to be here," he abruptly interrupted. The shock written across his face slowly morphed into that familiar grimace of frustration he wore like a shield.

Your fear of rejection seemed like it might come true.

Back inside the house, a line of people with their ears pressed up against the wall stood tense and impatient while those who had no fucking clue what was happening lingered in confusion.

Kirishima went first, trying to see if he could hear the conversation happening outside with his face smooshed against the off-white wall. He needed to know if all their planning would actually pay off or if Bakugo was going to somehow blow his second chance at love. Midoriya followed right behind him and Kaminari, hating feeling left out, did the same even though he was only halfway in the know.

"Jirooooouuuuu, pleeeeease? This is actually super important!" Ashido's black eyes glistened as she begged Jirou to use her earphone jacks to listen to the tense conversation happening on the other side of the sliding door.

Raising an eyebrow, Jirou said, "I don't even know what's going on? Who was that lady that went outside?"

However, Yaoyorozu came up behind her girlfriend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to do as she says, Kyoka. It isn't really our story to tell; that's up to Bakugo-san. The conversation happening outside is private and we shouldn't eavesdrop.”

Ashido pursed her lips and huffed. "Spoilsport. I know you're just as curious as the rest of us," she claimed before marching over to the wall and lining herself up with the others.

Deflating, Momo nibbled on her bottom lip as she stared at her friends’ backs. It was true - she did want to know what was happening between you and Bakugo, especially after seeing with her own eyes how much you cared about him and all the trouble the others went through to get you here in the first place. A gentle, familiar hand on hers eased Momo’s worry as Kyoka met her eyes.

“I definitely wanna know what’s going on because I’m so lost… but if you say it’s not our business, then I’ll just wait for you to tell me later,” she conceded with a knowing smile.

“It… is a very interesting story, that’s for sure.”

Towards the back of the room, Sero stood next to Todoroki who loudly sipped from his cup while Uraraka worriedly twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands on his other side. “Hey dude, you know what’s goin’ on? Is this all part of the party…?”

If it were anyone else, the ice in his cup would’ve melted into shards by now, but Todoroki held it in his left hand, a fine mist of frost keeping the mostly-empty cup perfectly chilled. “Yeah. Sort of. I’m just going to watch and see what happens. Uraraka, you shouldn’t worry, especially when you’re pregnant. I think Bakugo will be fine.”

Uraraka let the breath she was holding tumble out while absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. “I know, I know. He’s just so bullheaded sometimes; I don’t want Bakugo-kun to do something else he’ll regret…”

Off in a far corner of the main living space, the remaining guests - Shinsou, Tokoyami, and Camie - lingered around the speakers and the snack table, all just equally as confused about what was happening, both inside and outside.

“Should we-“

“Nope.”

“… Yes, it's probably for the best.” Tokoyami closed his eyes in agreement within Shinsou, but peeked his left one open after a moment when he heard Camie giggle. "And can you tell me why you're so enamored with Dark Shadow?"

The sentient shadow attached to Tokiyami was laughing, too, while Camie was trying to feed it a snack. "Huh? It's like, kinda cute, ya know? Like one of those little pocket monster things except like, real and stuff. Does it like brownies?" Although she had a high alcohol tolerance, it was obvious the spiked juice was beginning to affect her much to Dark Shadow's amusement.

While party guests bickered or wrung their hands together with worry, your staring contest with Katsuki wore on. Confusion, tension, and agitation evident in his posture rolled off him like mist. You told Uraraka that keeping their plan a secret probably wouldn't end well, and you hoped she had convinced her other cohorts to come clean… but they didn't, and now you were paying the price.

Opening your mouth, you tried to find the words to assuage his frustration and save the night from total ruin and heartbreak. "I… Katsuki, I know I'm not supposed to be here. That we both knew that when you left, that was it. That would be the end." Although you tried to keep your voice even and strong, it cracked like brittle china faced with an angry bull ready to charge. "Your friends… Uraraka and Kirishima and some others found a way to bring me here. They wanted… they thought you might want to see me again… I wanted to see you again."

This wasn't right. None of it was right. He'd ached and wallowed in his own pathetic misery for months before finally managing to get a hold of himself and return to a life of relative normalcy and routine. Coming to terms with the brutal truth of his inability to just be fucking honest with himself, with you, was just as exhausting and difficult as any big villain he'd faced.

It had to be some screwed up joke to cement him in the past he'd fought to leave behind. That's what you would've wanted. That's what Katsuki wanted. Right?

But for the first time, you answered him. You didn't just fade away like every other instance. You claimed his friends helped you get here, but that just shoved more questions into his sweaty, trembling hands.

Maybe this really was a nightmare… or possibly some elaborate illusion based on his knowledge and memories to leave him fumbling and vulnerable. Only the two of you stood outside, but for all he knew someone unseen could be pulling the strings with Black Hole as the resurrected puppet master.

She'd wanted him to suffer, after all.

The sad, worried look in your eyes, however… did he trust his own senses that rarely led him astray, or was there a way to know if you were truly who you claimed to be? She isn’t. She couldn’t be.

Unsure of what to do because his so-called friends left you on your own rather than explain to Katsuki what the hell was happening and why, you began to step closer to him, but stopped when he interrupted.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Hearing Katsuki so uncharacteristically wary reminded you dismally of his first few days in your home: distrustful, tense, and exasperated. After everything the two of you experienced together, it hurt. Oh, it stung bitterly. “Tell me something only the real (y/n) would know. Something no one else would know.”

Frowning, you should’ve expected something like this. Rather than come here and be welcomed warmly by the man you fell in love with months ago, you were forced to prove you were really who you claimed to be through some time-wasting test. If by some miracle this actually worked and Katsuki eventually believed you, Midoriya and the others were going to catch a nasty earful for making this already stressful situation so much harder than it needed to be.

Ignoring that impending argument for now, you focused on remembering everything only privy to you and Katsuki. While you had no idea exactly what he’d revealed to his friends about his time with you, it didn’t really matter; you knew Katsuki in the most intimate of ways; convincing him was - hopefully - only a matter of choosing something that struck a sensitive chord.

The bear incident was too grandiose and at least a handful of other people knew about it. You recalled the flowers you’d managed to keep alive in your apartment, but you’d told Uraraka where they came from. While the karaoke date was something you’d never forget, it didn’t strike you as the correct choice, either. The amusement park, scheduling his haircut, running into your ex… All of these flashbacks resembled down-facing cards spread out on a table with your hand hovering between them. Every card except one meant permanent defeat.

Then, it hit you. Something you were positive he kept to himself considering he almost didn't admit it to you at all; and Katsuki gave you a hint without even realizing.

"The nightmare," you blurted out as if worried an invisible timer would run out and yank you back into your own world at the ringing of a jarring game show buzzer. Katsuki's brows furrowed, his face still written with apprehension, but you continued. "I don't remember the exact day… but I remember waking up in the middle of the night. You were sitting up next to me and I could tell something was wrong… I just… held you and hoped I was giving you some comfort. Like you helped me after the whole bear incident. I didn't know until the next day that you had a nightmare…"

He remembered. Whenever painful memories tortured him while he slept, Katsuki always remembered, even if he'd much rather forget. It was the first and only time someone had been there when he awoke in a cold sweat with visions of failure and blood far too vibrant whenever he closed his eyes.

And he'd never told anyone else about it.

Back inside the house, it felt like an hour as time and tension serenaded each other despite only a few minutes passing. More people had joined in the group pressed against the wall trying to overhear what was happening outside.

"It's too quiet; I feel like he's blowing it." Kirishima groaned at the thought of his best friend making the same dumb mistake twice which, for someone like Bakugo Katsuki who prioritized a perfect victory every single time, was unheard of.

Bored after doing nothing for all of thirty seconds, Kaminari had left his place against the wall and was currently leaning on Shinsou's shoulder who played off the close contact like it was no big deal despite having a spike of internal bisexual panic.

"C'moooon guys! Just go outside and tell him he's being dumb or something-"

"You do it then," Todoroki suggested nonchalantly.

Grimacing, Kaminari shook his head and latched onto Shinsou's arm. "If this was less serious, then, yeah, maybe! I don't wanna piss him off again; especially on his birthday."

Shinsou still wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but distinctly remembered Bakugo's embarrassing outburst at the bar months ago. He couldn't really blame Kaminari for his avoidance of a potential repeat. "Can someone at least tell me what all this drama is about? Ignoring it is getting tough with everyone acting weird and I'm too sober to tune it out."

"It's… a long story, Shinsou-kun," Midoriya answered as he rubbed the back of his neck and stood next to Uraraka. "Depending on what happens tonight, maybe Kacchan can tell you himself in his own words."

And judging by the strained and hushed conversation happening in the garden things were not exactly going how they all expected.

The silence between you stretched on far too long for comfort after you answered Katsuki's demand. What else were you supposed to do when all of this apparently rested on your shoulders alone?

"If… if you really don't believe me or actually want me here… then I'm not going to keep trying to convince y-you." The last word came out as more of a whimper, your throat swelling with strain as you fought back bursting into tears on the spot. All those months of waiting… just to have your heart crushed all over again because of his fucking bullheadedness. I was so stupid to think this was a good idea…

It took a monumental effort to take a step back from him when all you wished for was to be as close as you used to be. Just for a while. Just for tonight.

As you began to swivel on your heel, pain evident in your glassy eyes and stammering speech, an image he'd hoped to forget sprang forward like a memory resurfaced from the drowned, dark depths.

That awful day culminated into a horrible night as Katsuki watched you cry and scream before disappearing out the door in a whirlwind of his own doing. He hadn't stopped you then, too stunned to react as you spat his own words right back in his face. The fear and guilt attempting to swallow him back then… it all could've ended so much worse.

But you took him back. He didn't deserve it, but you did anyway. You allowed his effort at making amends with barely any time left to see the fruits of his redemption begin to ripen into something sweet and filling.

If this were real… if you were real, there was no way in hell he'd make the same mistake twice. Letting you walk away once was difficult enough, but if Katsuki stood by and accepted watching you disappear, then he deserved whatever sisyphean punishment fate shackled to him for the remainder of his days; but you didn't.

As if Medusa's paralyzing grip on him suddenly vanished, Katsuki lurched forward, his hand outstretched in desperation to keep this illusion from slipping through his fingers. And true enough, he was surprised to find that he didn't phase through your wrist.

Warmth. Soft skin. Racing pulse. He felt it all through his hardened calluses. "Wait… please."

The sudden grip on your arm tugged your shoulder back, but turning around to face him after resigning that this once in a lifetime opportunity ended in rejection was too much. Pressure behind your eyes swelled as you continued to fight off crumpling in a crying heap on the ground when he asked - no, pleaded - for you to stay.

Just like before… Except this time, Katsuki didn't let you run away. You stared at a vine crawling up the side of the house while trying to avoid focusing on the familiar warmth of his hand, the strength of his grip, and even the damp sweat slowly soaking into your skin. But he felt unsteady, something Katsuki never was, his fingers shivering as if freezing despite the comfortable warmth outside.

So, two distrustful people waited for proof that this second chance would not slip away, one desperate for truth while the other pleaded for patience. All you had to do was turn around and face him. And you did.

To anyone that didn’t know him, Katsuki looked exactly like you remember him. His ash-blonde hair. Those damn eyes of his that caught light like rubies. The sharp, strong jaw that framed his sharper tongue. The past six months apart just melted away as aching familiarity came bursting through the door. But, just like when he found you at the park, his face and body language betrayed his normal composure: unsure, shaken, disbelieving, desperate… everything you also felt and knew he was seeing mirrored right back.

Without tearing his eyes away, Katsuki reluctantly let your wrist fall from his hand before cupping your face with his sweaty palms. Warm. They didn’t pass through. He was close enough to smell some faint but recognizable aroma that he’d forgotten with time. Your perfume. Only detectable when you were close enough to touch. You looked like you wanted to cry.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on… but I don’t really care.” Logic and reason be damned on his birthday; if you hadn’t disappeared by this point, then he wasn’t going to waste his time fighting against it anymore. “If you’re really here, then- hell even if you’re not, just listen to what I have to say.”

No repeated mistakes.

“I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. I’m doing exactly what I set out to do since I was a bratty kid. And even though I’ve screwed up a lot, I’ve tried to pinpoint those flaws and fix ‘em.” You’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. “But I made a huge fucking mistake months ago, and I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to live with it while knowing I couldn’t make it right.”

No more hiding.

You knew him too well. He wished he hated that about you - how you managed to find shelter in his exposed remains after peeling through layers he didn’t even know existed - but he didn’t.

Words gummed up his throat when the simplest answer was right here. With his clammy hands still preciously cupping your face, Katsuki leaned his forehead against yours and felt your shaky breath on his lips.

The kiss was real. You didn’t disappear. Just…

“(Y/n)… Aishiteru.”

Barely audible. Fiercely soft. Perfectly understood. Your lip quivered and eyes screwed shut as the buildup finally overflowed. Katsuki returned your love even now, and nothing else was going to keep you apart tonight.

The translator device bounced across the ground as you lurched forward and draped your arms around his neck, clinging to his hair, shirt, skin, anything you could reach, terrified of letting him go again. Choking out a guttural sob muffled by his shoulder, your body went limp as the compounding burdens of the day finally disappeared. You didn’t have to hold yourself up anymore; Katsuki was there to support you.

The sudden noise outside caused Uraraka to chance a peek around the corner to make sure she didn’t need to break up any unfortunate disasters, but whipped back around quickly when she saw the two of you in a tender and intimate embrace on the ground. “Ooh! You g- ow!”

Ashido had come up right behind her to also eavesdrop and earned them both potential head bruises as a result. “Owwww, sorry, sorry! What’s happening?!”

Ignoring the pain, Uraraka yelled and whispered simultaneously that you and Katsuki were kissing.

“Ohmygod, really?!”

“YES!”

Kirishima and the others nearby heard this and broke out of their hiding spots against the wall to celebrate their hard-won victory. Kirishima threw a fist in the air, Midoriya slumped against the wall with flooded eyes, and Todoroki nodded in approval with a sincere smile.

At this point, most of the other guests had wandered into other rooms of the house to enjoy a party with an absent birthday boy, though a few remained behind to observe the inevitable end of this secretive drama.

“… And then he said they went to karaoke I think, so- oh, are they done now?” Kaminari turned towards the back door to see his friends were no longer acting all sad and weird.

“Keep going.” Shinsou tugged at Kaminari’s shirt collar to pull his attention back to him. The alcohol was making him stupid and bold and the blonde extra attractive. “It was just getting good.”

Cocking his head to the side, Kaminari smirked with half-lidded eyes. “Yes, sir, whatever you say.”

The noisy guests indoors barely registered as you let Katsuki hold you. He kept your relief grounded while you tried and failed to stop crying. His warm, shaky breath on your neck and his arms tangled around your chest reminded you of the final embrace on your couch before he vanished and left you pressed against nothing but air. Only this time, you didn't have the last word; and oh, the bursting elation building in your chest at his words was altogether cathartic.

He loves me. It's not unrequited.

Telling the truth never felt so fucking rewarding as it did right then. The reality that none of this made one iota of sense left his mind completely as he buried his face in your skin as his eyes and throat ached with pressure. He saw you, felt you, smelled you, tasted you, every tiny thing he'd craved for six goddamn months.

"Moushi wake nai," he mumbled while turning his head to see messy tear tracks on your cheek that he gently tried to wipe away.

Sorry for being a coward.

"Moushi wake nai…" He pressed chapped lips to your jaw and tasted salt.

Sorry for leaving you unanswered.

"Moushi wake nai." Your noses brushed as you sniffled, meeting his glassy gaze briefly with bloodshot eyes before properly returning his kiss, albeit weakly as though your energy and strength was completely spent.

Sorry for making you cry again.

“Aishiteru,” you echoed before kissing him again as if the words themselves reinvigorated you. Hearing it again in your own voice and inflection and accent rather than the embarrassing imitation from his dreams left Katsuki nearly breathless before you shifted in his lap, gripped the collar of his shirt, hands trembling, and glared at him with adoration and frustration in equal measure. Fuck, you were beautiful.

“Baka ńe,” you bit out, your voice squeaking at the end from strain despite trying your best to rightfully insult him after six months of holding it in. All Katsuki could do was stare dumbfounded with lips parted in a foggy haze before you yanked him forward like old times’ sake to try and kiss some sense back into him, but you didn’t have to; he would’ve met you halfway. Would’ve fought off a hundred bears to hear you call him stupid every fucking day for the rest of his life.

God, you’d shared many kisses over those last few weeks - some soft, some sloppy, some heart-poundingly passionate - but none of them compared to the satisfaction billowing through him right then. Or maybe it had something to do with the six months he survived on nothing but his own memories. Maybe they were all equally important in their own ways and trying to weigh one over the other was beyond pointless. Didn’t matter. Reveling in the desperation, his mouth chasing you like a starved man presented with a mouth-watering buffet, was more than satisfying.

Alcohol, fire, and musky cologne. One second you were crying on Katsuki’s shoulder and the next his skin was marked with red trails left by your nails under his shirt collar while you knelt between his legs and a hand slithered under the hem of your dress to grip your thigh. The way your heart raced as your tongues fought for dominance made you forget about wanting to headbutt him for being an emotionally-constipated dumbass.

This was like the real life version of those stupid Hallmark-esque movies with the tragically separated couple spotting each other from across an airport terminal, running through a bustling crowd, and leaping into each other’s arms in the middle with ear-to-ear grins. Except they never fucked in those movies, and if you weren’t in Uraraka’s backyard with Katsuki’s main friend group inside, then the Hallmark channel would’ve absolutely deemed this heated encounter inappropriate for their prudish audience.

However, Katsuki seemed absolutely unbothered by potential voyeurism as he practically growled in your mouth and pulled you flush against him as if daring any higher powers watching to rip him away from you again.

Straddling his lap, you reluctantly pulled away causing him to practically whine while trying to keep you right where he wanted you. But there were things you needed to explain and answers he no doubt wanted judging from the disbelieving comments and interrogation just minutes before. Smothering his mouth with one of your palms, you managed to keep him steady while wiping at your eyes that were still damp from the emotional deluge.

You sat back on your heels and looked from side to side before spotting the translator you’d dropped. Leaning over to grab it across one of Katsuki’s legs, you really hoped it wasn’t busted from the couple of new scratches on the screen and one of the corners. “Shit…”

Huffing through his nose at you interrupting your own makeout session, Katsuki took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. As he pulled your hand away from his face, he glanced up just in time to see familiar red hair and eyes peeking around the corner of the back door before quickly retreating back inside after being caught peeping. Only a small part of him was embarrassed, though. If he could finally tell you that he loved you and apologize for his past faults, then dealing with PDA witnesses was a walk in the park by comparison.

He saw you fiddling with the device in your hand before slipping his fingers between yours and pressing a tender kiss to your palm, resting it against his cheek. Grounding. Warm. Real. The longing ache that had weighed him down for months seemed to vanish at your touch. Zoning out for a second, still pushing away all of the questions he had about how all of this happened, you kissed his other cheek before resting your forehead against his and stared lovingly into his eyes.

If he said it once, he could say it again. So he did. Telling you he loved you was easier the second time, but no less impactful as you bit your lip and smiled sheepishly but oh so earnest and bright. Enough to rival those park fireworks. To put them to shame. He couldn’t help but smile, too.

Feeling tired of sitting on the hard ground, Katsuki stood up and brushed dirt off the back of his pants before extending a hand to help you up, too.

“C’mon… Please don’t be broken. Does this thing still work?” He watched you press a few buttons on the thing in your hand while The same voice from before came through just fine and you let out a relieved sigh. Right as you turned back to him, Katsuki grabbed your chin and stared down into your eyes before glancing at the device.

“Tell me again for my own sanity that this isn’t a dream or illusion or anything, because that kiss seemed real as hell to me, and if it wasn’t, then I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

The tension dropped along with your shoulders as you pulled his hand away, but didn’t let go. “Yes, Katsuki. I really am here, just like I said. None of this is fake or anything. You can thank your friends for setting all of this up, but also blame them for not telling you I was coming in the first place.”

OK. Alright. So he wasn’t crazy after all. Now that he’d had a minute to readjust and most of the shock had finally worn off, your answer sealed the deal. His gut instinct to protect himself through vehement denial of the unbelievable twisted in opposition, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort.

Then it hit him and he scowled while running his free hand down his face.

“Those fuckers,” he cursed, eyeing the now-closed door that led back into the house. “I knew Todoroki wasn’t telling me everything! Who all is in on it? Who do I-“

Before his annoyance levels rose too high, you shut him up with a simple gesture that he rejected from just about everyone else: a hug. You tugged on his hand and pressed against him like a shield. God, he missed this, just burying his nose in your hair and shutting his eyes to savor feeling close and wanted.

"I don't want you to fight on your birthday," you said. "Oh, right. Happy birthday, Katsuki."

"They started it," he retorted, his eyes still closed as his hands came up to wrap around your waist. "Mm. Are you my gift?"

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. "If you want me to be, then yes." Although him calling you a gift was sweet in its own way, it reminded you sorely of his friends back inside and how they seemed to pass you around from one person to the next. You were a person, not a present, and chose to come here of your own volition.

"Katsuki," you said, gripping his hand tighter in your own. It was heavenly being able to say his name and actually hear him answer you, again. "Why didn't you tell me back then?"

He knew what you meant without explanation and you swore you felt the pace of his heartbeat quicken through his chest. "I was stupid. I didn't think things would go the way they did, that we'd keep growing closer, and by the time I realized what I was feeling, I didn't know what to do. It…" Katsuki hesitated and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to keep going. "It scared me. I'd never been in love before, especially not to someone I couldn't be with in the end. I could always train and learn and evolve to prepare for whatever the future held as a Hero… but I wasn't prepared for you."

Your breath hitched as he revealed insecurities you knew were difficult to explain. Of all the things that could scare someone like Katsuki… but thinking back to everything that happened during those last few days together, it all made sense.

"I was a coward," he stated bluntly. You knew he was frowning just from his tone. "I was angry. Back on the ferris wheel, I knew. It hit me and I knew. I was happy and you were beautiful and I just…"

"...You panicked." Finishing his thought for him, all the pieces finally clicked together. Katsuki didn't want to leave and you didn't want him to leave, but there was nothing either of you could do about it. Fighting against the unbeatable and coming out on top was something Katsuki excelled at. Something he couldn't overcome… no wonder he lashed out. "You dummy." The annoyingly familiar pressure began building behind your eyes again. "It's OK to be scared or unsure of things. Talking it out can help, though. You're supposed to be smart…" The weak laugh at your own words hopefully obscured him from hearing you sniffle.

His lips and warm breath caressed your forehead; the tiniest gesture was going to make you cry again from how much you missed it, missed him. "I know that now. And I won't make the same mistake again."

I know you won't… because my time here is limited. But you refused to think about going back home without him, not when you had so much catching up to do. "You know, I was going to tell you I loved you back on the ferris wheel. I'd known for a while how I felt… but was waiting for the right moment. It was so cliché and romantic… then all the drama happened and I didn't want to make things worse with just one day left." You loosened your arm wrapped around his chest to look up at him; even under the pale moonlight, his eyes glistened like the beautiful red rubies you remembered. "So I waited until the last possible moment. I guess I was a coward, too."

Back then, he knew. It was noticeable from the way you looked at him fondly with a coy smile that was just for show but also completely earnest. How you reached for him without hesitation. The darkness in the ferris wheel carriage couldn’t obscure what he saw backlit by city lights and fireworks. Katsuki knew, and he’d chosen to run instead.

“Don’t,” he warned while shaking his head and holding his ground to stare down what he was so terrified of seeing six months ago. “I ran from my problems even though I would’ve called out anyone else for the same thing. There’s way more to strength and resolve than just how hard you can punch or how much you can take before going down. You did what I couldn’t.” He wasn’t afraid of your truth, anymore, nor his own. “So you better not call yourself a coward while I’m around, got it, Clumsy-chan?”

Your eyes widened and brows rose while the corners of his lips tugged into a grin. “Really? Even now, you’re stuck on that nickname?” The way you smiled through your words gave you away.

“I’ve changed, but not that much. You’re stuck with it unless I find one I think suits you better.” He felt you attempt to tug your hand free from his pitiful rebellion, but his hands and arms were far stronger than the average person’s; it was a fight you’d never win, but the outcome wasn’t the point, anyway.

Only now with most of his brain fog finally gone did he finally take in your appearance. Your hair was styled in an unfamiliar way, but it more than suited you. Matching earrings and a necklace that sparkled from the backyard light attached to the house. Smeared makeup circled your eyes, but Katsuki didn’t give a damn about that. And the rest…

Blinking in realization, he stepped back - hand never leaving yours - to look at the whole package. Confusion written on your face, he answered you before you had a chance to ask what the hell he was doing. “You’re wearing the red dress.”

Yeah, he’d been right: you did look good in it. Brain dead idiot of an ex-boyfriend had as much taste as he did sense when he said it didn’t suit you. Red was always a striking color and stood out among a crowd, but you wore it well. When you realized exactly why he was staring, your posture shifted as if trying to appear more flattering to him than you already did.

“Oh… yeah, I am. I mean, I’d only worn it once before… and I wanted to look nice for tonight. I thought about what you said about not letting anyone else decide what I should or shouldn’t do or wear. I'm guessing it was a good choice, then?" You managed a slow twirl in the uwabaki that didn't match your dress at all, the fabric flowing out from your thighs before settling back down as you stopped to face him expectantly.

Deku's house slippers and tear-stained makeup be damned. Katsuki yanked you back towards him with little effort, catching you with an arm securely around your waist as he leaned down and caught you in a surprise kiss. The tiny squeak you let out had him smiling as you pressed against his chest and stood on your tiptoes to try and gain back some leverage, but he pulled away before you ensnared him in a willing trap.

"You don't just look nice." The desiring glint in your eyes shifted to perplexed, but he was ready this time. "You look fucking beautiful. No extra can compare." No repeat of the "what the fuck are you wearing?" situation.

His lack of hesitation in complimenting you must've come as a mild shock judging from the bashful way you tried to hide your smile, lips sucked in between your teeth; that, or you were still bashful about his praise. "Thank you… have you been practicing flirting this whole time Mr. I'm Bad With Words?"

This back and forth banter was yet another thing he desperately missed; it was the small, prosaic interactions rather than grandiose displays that stuck with him the most. "No, but I've had six months to consider things I wish I'd said or done. I don't hold back with anything else, and this - you - shouldn't be an exception."

"Glad you finally learned your lesson on that one," you concurred before leaning back and drinking him in from head to toe. "You clean up nicely, yourself. I'd almost forgotten you had other clothes besides black tank tops and jeans." Humming to yourself, you traced your fingertips lightly across the stiff collar of his shirt before trailing down his bicep. Touch-starved for close contact and affection, the small but sensual movement sent goosebumps across his skin. "Hmm, yes… very handsome, indeed. I like the jewelry, too. And… are you wearing eyeliner?"

While you and Katsuki traded words, a small group had formed behind Jirou who had her earphone jack pressed up against the wall separating them from their friend outside. After Kirishima got caught peeking around the corner, even Jirou couldn’t hold back her curiosity as to what was going on after piecing together a rough idea through the whispered discussion of her friends.

However, it didn’t take long before her cheeks flushed and she quickly turned to disappear towards the snack table. “O-okay, their flirting really isn’t our business-“

“Flirting?! No way… but I guess he must have some game if he managed to get a girlfriend…” Ashido pondered mischievously about what in the world Bakugo’s flirting would entail as Jirou reached for her girlfriend’s hand.

Yaoyozoru sighed. “I warned you, dear…”

“But you totally wanted to know, too!”

Her free hand flew to her cheek in exaggerated shame. “Oh, I know I did! I just wanted to see how Bakugo-san and Y/N-san were doing… but eavesdropping isn’t the answer. How impolite of me…”

Midoriya stood between Todoroki and Kirishima who all glanced sidelong at each other. “Do you think they’ll come back in, eventually?”

“I would think so, Todoroki-kun. They have a lot to catch up on. At least nothing bad happened…” His relieved chuckle contrasted with Kirishima’s annoyed groan.

“Yeah, I mean I get that, but we still planned this whole party thing, y’know? And you still have Sato’s cake to bring out!”

Humming to himself, Todoroki pondered while Midoriya and Kirishima talked about cake. "But… I doubt staying at the party means more than spending quality time with his true love."

The line made Kirishima snort. "Sounds so cheesy saying it like that, especially for someone like Bakugo, but it's also super manly to love who you love without caring what anyone else thinks! I mean, I'm not gonna cockblock my best bro-"

"K-Kirishima-kun!" Even now as a married man with a kid on the way, Midoriya never fully overcame talking publicly about anything even mildly salacious. Searching around frantically before spotting Ochako, he decided it was the perfect time to check on his wife who was eating mochi while giggling at Dark Shadow acting like a puppy while Camie remained fixated on treating it as such. "They'll come inside when they want to and wecanhavecakethen!!"

The redhead laughed. “I guess he’ll never outgrow talking about embarrassing stuff… but man, am I glad Bakugo didn’t totally blow it with… you alright, Todoroki?”

Still deep in thought over inconsequential details, he said, “I suppose with your quirk, you would be the best at cockblocking… like a shield…” He only came out of his trance when Kirishima doubled over with laughter.

Calming relief replaced anxious uncertainty both inside and outside, although the current tempo of Katsuki’s heart begged to disagree.

“... Can’t believe I almost blew it.”

Rather than stand around fawning over each other, you and Katsuki sat on a swinging porch bench situated at the furthest corner at the back of the house. You tried not to gush too much when you recognized that the earrings he wore were eerily similar to the Fantasy AU art that everyone always fawned over. They suited him well alongside the thin chain of silver around his neck and expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

It was evident he’d picked up a few pointers from his fashion designer parents when he had more to choose from than t-shirts and tank tops.

You had finally noticed his hearing aid, as well as the newly-healed scar on his left ear. He'd reassured you that he was fine and the hearing aid was more of a safety net than necessity. It was only a matter of time before his quirk affected his hearing, but something like this would never keep Katsuki down.

“Hm? Blew what?” You leaned against Katsuki's side while he gently rocked the swing with the heel of his foot and stretched his arms across the back of the sun-bleached wood.

Without glancing your way, he said, "I almost let you run. Half a year trying to move on and find some normalcy in my routine again. Come to terms with everything. My own mistakes. I didn't think it would be as hard as it was."

"Relationships aren't easy," you reassured. "Especially breakups… including ones that have to happen even if no one wants them to. It was hard for me, too." Katsuki pressed his cheek to the top of your head. The weight was grounding. "Like… a piece of me was missing, and time and distractions just didn't make it go away. I mean, if I was fully over you, then I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Katsuki remained silent as he continued to rock the bench back and forth. He knew why moving on was so difficult, thinking back to the pathetic state of self-wallowing he turned into after visiting Tartarus. Her second quirk… so, it affected both of you, then. You attributed it to intense heartbreak; and yes, while that definitely factored into it, Black Hole’s quirk complicated everything tenfold.

Should I tell her…? Katsuki wasn’t so sure it was something you needed to know, at least not yet.

“After months of trying to accept the mistakes I couldn’t fix and move forward with my life, you step back into it. If you were really here, then all that work I did would've vanished. Like I was back at square one, like your memory was taunting me. So, I almost let you run… but even if it seemed impossible that you were here, I didn’t want to let that chance slip away.”

You couldn’t help but frown at his words. “I told them to tell you what they were planning. Good intentions but stupid execution…”

Katsuki moved away so he could turn to face you, his expression sincere and his eyes sharp. “How long have you known about this whole thing? How long have they been planning it? How did you even get here?”

Ah, right… you knew he’d want to know the logistics of everything considering how this all came out as a literal birthday surprise. Sighing, you fiddled with the translator in your lap and hesitantly looked up at Katsuki. “I… you know how I said I didn’t want you to be upset on your birthday?”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s not like you could’ve told me what was going on, anyway.”

You shook your head. “No, I know that. What I mean is, you’re probably going to be upset at your friends, whether it’s me that tells you or them… “ Starting a yelling match between Katsuki and his friends seemed like an awful way to get on the good side of the people he was closest to, but he’d make them fess up either way. “I know I’m technically in the middle of all this, but I don’t… shit. Am I making any sense?”

“I see.” Why did it sound so ominous coming from him? "You don't have to tell me. But I'd rather know everything now while we're all together. If you say I'll be mad, then you're probably right. But I doubt anything they say will make you being here not worth it. They can't ruin that." The soft intensity he gave off was just as flustering now as it was back in your apartment. "And I'll try really fucking hard not to yell…" He hesitated before sighing and holding up his pinky, albeit reluctantly. "For you."

You could've cried all over again from how adorably sappy it was to know he remembered how you insisted on pinky promises; he didn't need to know you only liked them because of how embarrassed he always looked doing something so juvenile.

Holding up your own pinky, you twirled it around his and smiled. "I'll hold you to it. I love you, Katsuki."

The casual way you dropped love into the conversation made his eyes widen and the tips of his ears flush pink. You said it with complete confidence as easily as if discussing the weather. How you could ever call yourself cowardly was beyond him.

Scoffing and shaking his head, Katsuki snickered before invading your space, keeping you in place by your pinky while close enough to see his own reflection in your startled eyes. "Love you, too." Each time he said it was a little easier than the last. Besides, he couldn't let you outdo him, especially not on his own birthday.

On that note, while he wanted to pull away to tease you just the tiniest bit, you leaned in close enough for your lips to brush. "Otanjoubi omedetou, Kat-su-ki." The slow, slurred way you tugged at his name like you knew exactly how much slack to give and take to keep him from toppling over the edge made him briefly regret wanting to go back inside at all.

Over as soon as it began, the kiss was brief but had you smiling before hopping up from the bench, pulling him up by the hand to meet you. God, he was so fucking whipped.

As you neared the back door where you heard the party moving on without you or the birthday boy, you slowed to let Katsuki overtake you. This was his conversation to have, not yours. Sort of.

Katsuki paused, glanced back at you, and tugged his head towards the house before giving your hand a light squeeze of reassurance. Don't worry, I'm here. Even if they were all his friends, everyone except for Uraraka was, for the most part, a complete stranger… again, sort of.

With a final deep breath, you turned off the translator, slid it into your small purse, and let Katsuki slide open the door and lead you inside.

Almost immediately, you felt far too many pairs of eyes on you as the commotion and conversation died down leaving only the background music playing from the speakers. Even though you technically knew who all of them were, they didn't know you. Some were probably out of the loop completely as to what was going on judging by several confused or intrigued stares. Jaw clenched, body tense, and toes curled inside your slippers, you immediately regretted leaving the isolated safety of the backyard.

"Oi, stop staring, you weirdos," Katsuki demanded as he kept you close to his side and glared at anyone trying to make a spectacle of the two of you. He had nothing to hide, not anymore. "This is my girlfriend. Don't make a big deal out of it."

Scanning the various faces of everyone at that curt announcement - some shocked, some excited, some ambivalent - he stopped when he saw the four morons in charge of this so-called surprise.

Kirishima broke the awkward quiet by strutting through the crowd towards you and Katsuki with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. However, it gradually fell as he came closer and noticed Katsuki’s obvious irritation. Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka stood behind Kirishima. “Uh… happy birthday? Again? You don’t look happy even though… “ Kirishima tried to glance your way, but Katsuki sidestepped to block you from view. “What’s wrong?”

Jabbing a finger in each of their directions, he barked out an order that left no room for debate. "You four. We need to talk in private. Now."

"What's like, happening? Is the party already over…? Bummer." A tipsy Camie squeezed past Sero and Ashido looking flushed and frustrated at the killed mood.

Scraping a hand down his face, Katsuki's eye twitched trying to keep his composure for your sake. Fucking pinky swear… "It's not over. This won't take long. Do whatever you want; it's not my house."

This immediately cheered up Camie who seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding before her like a soap opera. Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka all shared a look before Uraraka cleared her throat. "Um, there's a spare bedroom down the hall we can use."

Reluctantly, the group filed into a messy line and began walking away from the rest of the party with Midoriya at the helm. Katsuki took one step before you pulled on his arm and beckoned him closer with your finger. Judging by the reluctance written in your body language, you wanted to do this even less than he did, which meant ripping off the bandaid now would hopefully ease the soreness for the rest of the night. "Eh?" He leaned down to let you whisper into his good ear. Gesturing with his thumb, Katsuki ignored the stares from everyone else left behind as he led you by the hand down the hallway after the others.

Once you’d disappeared, Ashido and Yaoyorozu shared a concerned glance. They’d listened to your story earlier today. The worry regarding how things would turn out in addition to this secretive surprise nonsense and being in a totally unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people was a lot to deal with. At least the Bakugo part of the equation appeared to turn out for the better…

Sero glanced around since he realized someone was missing. “Hey, where’d Kaminari go…?”

As Midoriya opened a door at the end of the hall, Katsuki pointed to one on the opposite wall leading to the bathroom. At least those Japanese lessons with Liviya were paying off a bit. And in all honesty, you kind of wanted to let them all have their back and forth without feeling like a third wheel in the corner; trying to keep up with five different people speaking over each other in Japanese was probably beyond the little translator’s capabilities, anyway.

Turning on the bathroom light, you took a deep breath before glancing at yourself in the mirror with a jolt. “Oh, god… I really walked back inside like this?” All that crying had smeared the makeup around your eyes and left dirty tear tracks down your cheeks. “Waterproof my ass,” you cursed while digging in your purse for the makeup wipes you rightfully assumed you’d need for some emergency cleanup.

The last in line, Katsuki closed the door to the spare office behind him as the others stood in front of a desk littered with Midoriya's unmistakable scribblings; a habit he never abandoned even into adulthood.

Honestly, Katsuki was glad to be alone with them for at least a few minutes because he didn't want you to observe him blowing a gasket. He rounded on the nervous group as Midoriya stepped forward with his palm out as if presenting an invisible peace offering. "Kacchan, I know you're probably confused-"

"What the hell is wrong with all of you?" His biting cadence shut Midoriya up with a squeak as he glared down at the rest of them. "I know you take pride in trying to solve my own problems without consulting me first, but why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to bring (y/n) here without telling me? How did you even get her here?!"

Katsuki was loud, always had been. Eventually, those that knew him best learned that he was actually most dangerous and serious when he was quiet, when he didn't hide behind roaring noise and bravado. And right now, with a deep set frown and shadowed eyes, the gravel in his voice was honed enough to cut glass.

Kirishima took up the mantle of attempting to calm him down. "What all did (y/n) say already? And I'm sorry we didn't tell you before now, but we weren't even sure this was all gonna work in the end. It was a huge gamble. Plus, y'know… birthday surprise and all that…" Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck when Katsuki’s grimace didn’t budge.

“She didn’t tell me much of anything. Said it would probably piss me off, and she’s right even though you haven’t even begun explaining yet. Besides, it’s not her responsibility to fill me in because it wasn’t her plan to begin with.” He accusingly cut his eyes towards Midoriya who was the worst out of all of them when it came to acting without thinking. “So,” he continued while crossing his arms, “start talking before (y/n) comes back.”

It seemed like their plan for a happy reunion came to fruition, but good intentions didn’t excuse the underhanded tactics to get there.

While the group unenthusiastically took turns explaining the hoops they jumped through to get their friend and his long lost love back together - researching potential quirks, pulling favors, Uraraka paying you a visit - you were just about done cleaning yourself up in the bathroom when someone whispered your name outside the door.

“(Y/n)…? Daijoubu desuka?” It sounded like… Ashido, maybe?

Leaving your purse and makeup scattered on the counter, you unlocked the door and peeked outside to see a black and gold eye staring back at you. You opened the door to see Yaoyorozu standing behind Ashido, both with worried expressions.

“Oh, uh, daijoubu desu.” Before you could attempt to try and listen in on what was happening in the other room, Ashido pushed her way inside the small bathroom with Yaoyorozu in tow before closing the door behind her. Scrunching up her eyes as if you were under inspection, Ashido eventually nodded while Yaoyorozu picked up the translator on the sink and turned it on without much difficulty.

“I believe this is… there we go. Simple enough. Apologies for intruding, (y/n)-san, but we wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“We could tell you’d been crying outside,” Ashido explained. “Needed to make sure Bakugo didn’t say something dumb to our new friend.” Even though they’d only met you earlier today, the two of them came to make sure you were OK? “You did a pretty good job cleaning up your makeup, though.”

You couldn’t help but feel appreciative of their concern; Katsuki was lucky to form bonds with such strong-willed and considerate people. “Thanks, really. But they were happy tears. He almost screwed up, but quickly made up for it. I don't really blame him, though, since I think it would've been much smoother if it all wasn't, y'know, a secret."

Your reassurance that nothing terrible happened seemed to ease their concern before Ashido huffed and crossed her arms. "Thought so. Boys can be so dumb, sometimes. Don't worry, I gave Kirishima an earful when we got here. But I'll leave most of the finger-wagging to you and Bakugo."

"Speaking of," Yaoyorozu began while glancing at the bathroom door. "If you need to rejoin the others, we don't want to hold you up if there's nothing else you need from us."

As you started shoving makeup back into your purse, you paused. Surely they would know, right? "Actually… I have a question about certain Japanese words and phrases since I know they can be highly contextual."

The two women nodded confidently and said they could provide some translation help. "OK, well… what's the difference between 'dai suki da yo' and 'aishiteru'? I know the latter is generally more serious… what?"

Yaoyorozu flushed and covered her mouth with her hand while Ashido’s eyes sparkled mischievously as a pursed grin spread across her pink face. “For one,” Yaoyorozu hesitantly began, “using ‘aishiteru’ is um, very rare. It’s reserved for intense and serious situations such as a marriage proposal… It’s a term that cannot be misinterpreted and is used very intentionally.”

Keeping her sly expression, Ashido added onto Yaoyorozu's explanation. "Mm, yep, it's a super intense term for loooooove," she reiterated while batting her eyelashes. "It's not an everyday term, you know. And some people might never use it at all." It was like this kind of gossip directly fueled Ashido's excited energy.

All you could do was stand dumbfounded. You knew way back before Katsuki left that Japanese was highly contextual and, though simplistic, the dictionary touched on it briefly. So, for Katsuki - someone who knew full well what it meant and the implications behind it - to say it first… "Oh."

"... Oh?"

"Did we break her?"

At that exact moment, all three of you turned towards the unseen hallway as raised voices echoed past the doors. Remembering what was going on in the other room snapped you out of your stupor. So much for Katsuki staying calm. "Uh, guess I should get back and see what's going on," you said while picking up the rest of your things and checking yourself one last time in the mirror. "Thanks for checking in on me. Katsuki's lucky to have friends like you."

Yaoyorozu seemed to calm down from the aishiteru discussion and gave you a warm smile. "Of course, (y/n)-san. Hopefully, things turned out for the best even if we had a rocky start."

Ashido nodded before opening the bathroom door to find Sero trying to listen in while pressed against the wall. When the bathroom light illuminated him, he just grinned and shrugged to play it off as no big deal. "Oh, well. Was just trying to feel included is all," he joked. “So, Ashido, don’t you owe me some money?” You heard him chuckle as Ashido pushed him back down the hall through some incoherent grumbling followed by Yaoyorozu. That left just you standing in front of the door. The voices had died down by now, but you were still a little worried for whatever scene lay beyond it.

The tension in the office hung heavy as Katsuki glared at a squirming Midoriya. "I can't fucking-" Knock knock. Someone at the door cut him off. Before he could tell whoever it was to get lost, he heard his name on the other side.

"Katsuki?"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself after hearing the absolute bullshit excuse of a story they told him to try and explain away what almost turned into complete ruin, Katsuki turned on his heel, walked to the door, and flung it open.

No wonder you were in the bathroom for so long - you'd cleaned up your makeup and seemed less frazzled than before. He just figured you needed some time to yourself, but it also gave him the opportunity to hear out the morons standing on the opposite end of the room without feeling you side-eyeing his exasperation.

"Hey. You good?" Nodding, you let him lead you into the room before gently closing the door behind you. Although he appeared collected, the stiff way he carried himself and the vestige of various creases along his brow and around his mouth gave the truth away. Not to mention the four people now staring in your direction looking equally drained. You finally noticed Uraraka's belly, but said nothing as she looked especially apologetic before staring down at the floor.

The room, you observed, seemed like an ordinary spare bedroom that they turned into an office space. How often they actually used it was unclear, but a few framed posters of All Might and various shelves lined with books and Hero memorabilia made it feel less sterile. Of course, the room itself wasn't important; your eyes hesitantly drifted to Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka before Katsuki stomped up to them to presumably continue where they left off before you knocked.

"I was hoping this would be quick. Didn't think this story had a hundred different chapters to it," he bit out while crossing his arms. Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to see you leaning against the wall. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could get back to what was actually important. "So, if I'm not missing anything, you," he emphasized with a glare in Midoriya's direction, "told Melissa personal shit that wasn't her damn business, then she went and told some extra that I don't even know because he had a teleportation quirk?"

"For the most part, yes," Todoroki answered. "We exhausted our own resources while searching, so Midoriya reached out on his own. If this didn't work, then we would've been out of options."

While the secrecy of it all was infuriating, Katsuki was honestly amazed, but not at all surprised, by the massive hoops they jumped through for his sake. No one here would dream of giving less than 150% when it came to helping each other out; he realized that back at Kamino all those years ago. "Right… and this guy-"

"Devin-san," Midoriya quickly corrected. Katsuki narrowed his eyes.

"Devin, whatever. Is he even a Hero? How does his quirk work? Why did he agree to help you all, anyway?" All four of them shared glances as if silently trying to figure out who would do the explaining. That didn't bode well, but Kirishima was the one who finally spoke up.

"Alright, so, one, he isn't a Hero, but his mom is or…?" Side-eyeing Midoriya, Kirishima continued when he saw a confirming nod. "His mom, yeah. She's a Hero over in America. That's how Melissa knew him since she or her dad probably worked on support items and tech over there. Apparently, Devin owed Melissa a favor, and she used it on this." Unimpressed, Katsuki stood silently and waited for the redhead to get to the point. "Uh, as for his quirk… it is a teleportation-type quirk, but it works differently than Kurogiri's."

Those types of powerful quirks were rare; not as uncommon as they used to be when quirks were overall simpler and less powerful, but still coveted all the same. What made this guy's quirk so special, then? "Well? Tell me how it works, Kirishima." He needed confirmation of something he was unsure of last year. Something that irked him, but he lacked proof for any kind of confrontation. And judging from how hesitant Kirishima appeared to let out the full extent of the truth, this was either going to close the case or leave it indefinitely unresolved.

Kirishima visibly deflated and seemed to resign himself to finally telling the truth. "It works by using important objects. The more emotional attachment the object has, the further Devin can teleport, including to places he'd never been before. But he had no idea if he could even go to a whole different world. The only way we could try and make it work was to have something… really meaningful."

Tightening his jaw while staring daggers at Kirishima's sinking frown, Katsuki took a single, measured step forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. His words held dangerously steady like a dagger pressed against a windpipe. “I want to hear you admit it.” Katsuki felt your eyes on the back of his neck, watching to see if he’d keep his promise.

At least Kirishima’s eyes looked as fearless as ever as he stared down at his long time friend with a mixture of determination and heavy guilt. “I’m really sorry, Bakugo… yeah, I took the note (y/n) wrote for you. I swear I only saw the first couple of lines before realizing what it was-“

“I should Howitzer you in the fucking mouth.”

It was one thing to defy teachers’ orders and go on a dangerous rescue mission to save his life. But it was something else entirely for them to just assume they knew what was best for him and steal his things. “I deserve it,” Kirishima admitted easily. Telling the truth seemed to dispel most of the strain he was holding in his neck and jaw.

Flaring his nostrils like a cartoon bull preparing to huff out a stream of angry smoke before charging at a taunting red cape, Katsuki let his hands fall to his sides and took a step back before cutting his eyes to the other three. “And you all just went along with everything? It’s obvious that his quirk did work, so why the hell didn’t you just tell me everything then, huh? And-“ Something Kirishima said struck him as odd. Creasing his brows, Katsuki turned on his heel to look at you with confusion before turning back to the group. “You put the note back,” he stated while pointing at Kirishima who nodded obediently. “Which means you didn’t use it to bring (y/n) here, today. So what the fuck was it for?”

This time, it was Uraraka’s turn to solemnly raise her hand. “Um… that’d be me. I sorta volunteered to test out Devin-san’s quirk to make sure it would be safe to go back and forth since he’d never done anything like this before…”

"Safe?" It was just one blow right after the other with this lot. Katsuki stomped over to stand in front of Uraraka, incredulity written across his face in bold lettering. "You mean to tell me you went to her world and presumably saw her and still didn't think to just fucking tell me what was going on?" Wiping a hand down his tired face, Katsuki breathed out a mirthless chuckle. Of course they had to have some kind of contact with you before this point to explain things and get you on board with their scheme, but everything compounded was just too much to take in right then and there. "Ya know what? I don't even wanna know the rest of it." Maybe he should've listened when you insisted that confronting this now would sour his mood, but he couldn't change it now. It would've eaten at him until he heard the truth, anyway.

He hated what he needed to do, but it was necessary. Holding out his hand to Kirishima, he said, "Gimme my spare apartment key back."

Kirishima appeared taken aback and hurt at the request, but handing over the key Katsuki gave him as a symbol of trust and friendship was just the natural consequence of his actions. Without complaint, he pulled out his keyring and slid the key off before wordlessly dropping it in Katsuki's waiting palm.

Avoiding looking at the others, he kept his back to them and trudged over to you with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. You looked about as tired as he felt, and you couldn't even understand most of what was being discussed. While there was more he could've pried into, salvaging the remainder of his birthday by spending time with you was far more important than wasting the rest of the night thinking about all this shit.

Katsuki angled his head towards the door that led back to the main hallway to signal he was done here, but to his surprise you weren't ready to head out just yet. You shook your head, whispered, "Chotto matte," and brushed past him to stand in his previous spot in front of Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka.

You didn't want to do this. You really didn't want to do this… but it was one of those unavoidable adult situations that needed to happen. So much discussion around regret and second chances forced you to confront your own anxieties about how the day didn’t exactly measure up to your expectations. Holding the translator up like a microphone, you nervously addressed the group.

“Um… hi,” you reluctantly began. Meeting Katsuki’s closest friends and some of your favorite characters from the series would’ve been so much more exciting if the circumstances weren’t so somber. “I think you all know who I am, but I really only know one of you.” Cutting your eyes to your right, Uraraka was already staring in your direction with mixed emotions. “I know that Katsuki just talked about some things…” Honestly, ‘talked’ was a much kinder word than how Katsuki would’ve described it, but you didn’t want to rub unnecessary salt in the wound. “Still, I wanted to say a few things while I have the opportunity.”

Deciding to start on a positive note, you brought your hands down and bent forward in a shallow bow. Staring down towards the floor, you saw Kirishima and Midoriya's feet shuffle awkwardly from your peripheral vision. "I wanted to thank you all for helping me get here to see Katsuki again. I know it must’ve taken a lot of work and planning. Me being grateful doesn’t dismiss some of the hurtful things you did, though.” Standing back up to your full height, you forced yourself to look everyone in the eyes; you wanted them to see you - truly see you - for who you were.

"In all honesty, today didn't go at all like I thought it would. I came here unsure of who or what might greet me. I didn't know anyone and was in an unfamiliar place." You noticed as realization finally seemed to spark in Midoriya's eyes as you tried to articulate your feelings regarding their treatment of you. "The only two people I did know weren't there, and almost as soon as I arrived I was practically pushed out the door-"

"You WHAT?!" Katsuki's raised voice would have startled you if you hadn’t expected at least one interruption. However, you didn’t need him fighting on your behalf, not when he had his own grievances to worry about.

You held up a hand to motion to Katsuki that you could handle yourself as you watched Uraraka quietly chastise her mortified husband. “I felt like more of a burden than a guest,” you continued as the room quieted down once again. “But I’m grateful to Yaoyorozu and Ashido for helping me out even though you didn’t tell them what was going on, either. By the time I was brought back here for the party, I felt like… you all just used me as a means to make Katsuki happy.”

At that, Midoriya wasn’t the only one appearing regretful as the consequences of their eagerness finally set in. Todoroki’s frown was small, but not insignificant if you took into account the usual calm control he exuded. Furthermore, it really pained you to see Kirishima, normally so bright and positive, looking like a kicked puppy. Even his signature spiked hair drooped as he hung his head in apparent shame.

“I’m not a gift to give to someone. I’m a person who has just as much stake in this whole thing as Katsuki.” Only when you finished speaking did you realize your hands were shaking. Still, explaining yourself lifted yet another weight from your chest as relief washed over you. “So… while I do appreciate everything you all did, I’d like an apology. And I think you owe one to Yaoyorozu and Ashido, too.”

Requesting an apology from Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka wasn’t exactly on your to-do list for the day, but you knew that ignoring your feelings was the perfect way to feel terrible and anxious when all you wanted to do was celebrate the remainder of Katsuki’s birthday.

Uraraka stepped forward first and it forced you to analyze her discomfort when you tried to avoid looking at her completely during your speech. You considered her a friend by the time she left, so knowing she’d gone along with keeping their plan a secret after you tried to convince her it was a bad idea made the hurt more personal. Wringing her hands together, she dipped into a shallow bow. “I’m so sorry, (y/n)-san. Both you and Bakugo-kun are right. We should’ve explained things once I returned, but then we found out about the baby and… n-not that it’s an excuse or anything. I will say I yelled at my husband when I realized he let you leave without telling me, first.”

Having someone bow to you was probably something you’d never get used to. They didn’t need to present some ostentatious apology for it to matter; they just needed to understand why you were upset in the first place and promise to be more considerate in the future. “Thank you. I-” Reflexively, you were about to give your own apology for dragging out this little drama party, but bit your lip to stop yourself. There was nothing to apologize for, but old habits were hard to break. "I appreciate it."

Uraraka straightened up, allowing you to really see how her rosy cheeks had rounded out even more as the baby grew from the last time you'd seen her. "And congratulations. Really, I'm happy for you." At the very least, you didn't want to add to her existing stress of, you know, being pregnant. Smiling softly, she folded her hands under her belly and uttered a soft, "arigatou."

Turning to look pointedly at her husband, Midoriya stepped forward with frantic speed before dipping into an excessively low bow. And another. And another. It was like he'd turned into one of those old drinking bird toys that bobbed perpetually up and down, except turned up to about one-hundred and the bird babbled out a long stream of strung-together apologies in Japanese.

You stumbled back at his sudden whirlwind of movement, but something wide and sturdy appeared at your back to help keep your balance. "Uh-"

"Don't make it weird. We got two more apologies to hear," Katsuki grunted out right above your head as he kept a grounding hand on your waist. So, he literally had your back on this; Comforting to know.

Uraraka tugged on her husband's shirt collar to pull him back in line as Todoroki took his place. While he didn't bow like the others, you knew his words were sincere. "Sorry about the mess we made. I suppose good intentions don't overshadow the problems they might cause. Oh, right. I never introduced myself. I'm Todoroki. Nice to meet you."

"You didn't even- fucking hopeless." You couldn't even argue with Katsuki's indignant grumbling. Even though you technically knew who Todoroki was, it was true that this was his first formal introduction. You kept it short and simple and thanked him for the apology. Just one more left until you could hopefully put this awkwardness beyond you…

Honestly, out of everyone you knew you might meet here, you were most excited about Kirishima. He was a fan favorite from the very beginning with his talk of manliness and friendly attitude. As the first person to really make an effort in befriending Katsuki, it was no wonder they were still close years later. Even though it wasn't technically your fault, it still hurt to see the current wedge driven between the two of them.

You felt Katsuki's grip on your waist tighten the tiniest amount as Kirishima sheepishly stood in front of you. He glanced up above your head, but even without seeing his face you knew Katsuki was giving the redhead a hardened glare. "If you didn't already know, I'm Kirishima Eijirou, but you can just call me Kirishima. And… I'm really sorry," he admitted before giving his own apologetic bow, his long red hair spreading across his shoulders. "It was all the opposite of manly. Everything you said was right and it took guts to speak your mind like that. If it's worth anything, I respect that a lot. I can see now why Bakugo likes you," he confessed while standing up to his full height which was just a bit taller than Katsuki's, excluding the hair.

Under different circumstances, you might've felt bashful at his words, but you were tired, annoyed, and your hospitality meter was almost running on empty. "You took something important that I gave Katsuki, right?"

Clearing his throat, Kirishima nodded. "Y-yea, I did."

"Mmhm," you hummed, wanting to make him sweat for a moment. "That was fucked up. Don't do something like that again. Understand?" At your demand, all he managed was a slow, purposeful nod. "Good," you sighed. "OK, I'm done chastising your friends.”

Katsuki took the hint and grabbed your hand to finally lead you out of this stifling room. But as he ushered you out the door, he turned around for a final glare over his shoulder and mouthed, “I’m still going to kick your asses,” before slamming the door behind him.

Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka stood together in silence for a second before letting out a collective groan. Well, that didn’t go well…

“So much for the idea that she’d protect us from Bakugo… I guess we had it coming, though,” Kirishima admitted, still melancholy over making his best friend and his girlfriend so upset. "Didn't expect her to look so intimidating…" The way you held yourself had him convinced that, despite being quirkless and a good head and a half shorter than him, you could've put him in the ground if you tried. Or maybe that was what you wanted him to think. Either way, Kirishima had no plans to make things worse for his friends or himself from this point forward.

Once the two of you were in the hallway, you barely had time to glance back towards the living room before Katsuki grabbed your hand and tugged you in the opposite direction. He quickly rounded the corner at the end of the hall before you nearly bumped into him as he came to a dead stop in front of an unfamiliar door and wordlessly turned the knob.

What neither of you expected to see were two figures suddenly illuminated when Katsuki flipped the light switch.

“AGH!”

“Ow! You shocked me, Kami-”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Oooh… oops.”

Katsuki grimaced before turning the lights back off and shutting the door. All he wanted was an empty room, but those two idiots just had to be sucking face while half naked and- A dry retch escaped him before the cursed scene was complete. He glanced down at you, a hand clamped over your mouth to stifle a giggle before he pulled you further down the hall to hopefully find a room that was actually empty.

Luckily, the next door he opened that happened to be at the very end of the hallway fit the bill as Katsuki ushered the two of you inside before closing the door.

A light shade of green paint coated the walls while various pieces of an unfinished crib lay in the far corner. Ignoring all of the boxed-up decorations and lingering smell of paint for what would soon become a nursery, Katsuki leaned his forearm against the wall, putting you in shadow in front of him.

"What-"

"I'm sorry." You looked up at him in confusion as his jaw tensed. "I called you my gift earlier. I didn't know." Had he been aware of all the trouble you went through today, he would've chosen his words more carefully. To think that you'd been here all fucking day, passed around from one person to the next all for some stupid birthday surprise. The shit you put up with for his sake was frustratingly astounding.

"Shit, don't scare me like that," you remarked with a huff and light tap on his chest. "I thought something was actually wrong. But that's nothing to apologize for," you clarified. "They were the ones treating me that way, even if they didn't mean to. You can call me a present if you want, just for today."

It wasn't like he wanted to be irate on his birthday, not when he had you at arm's length again. He was about to switch the subject with a comment about unwrapping you to hopefully lighten the mood, but you cut him off as he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry, though. Not for anything I said back there, but just… " You leaned your head against his arm, still pressed against the wall. "I didn't want to put a wedge between you and your friends. And I wanted your friends to like me after all the stories you told me…"

Putting an end to this shitty mood was his top priority at the moment, because if you were sad, then he was sad, and he'd been sad for six fucking months. "Listen," he said, leaning down close to make sure you looked him in the eyes. "Don't apologize for shit. You warned that I'd get pissed, and I did it anyway to get it over with. That whole conversation sucked, but I'm not gonna spend the rest of the night grinding my teeth over it. You shouldn't, either. And for your last point, they'll get over it. If I know them like I think I do, then you standing up and chewing 'em out made their respect for you shoot through the damn roof." It wasn't easy standing up to people you didn't know, but he expected nothing less from you at this point; it was one of the many things he loved about you.

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth before pushing off the wall to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pulled back, you were smiling. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're still number one at motivational speeches."

Katsuki snorted. "Of course I am." Dipping down, he smirked against your jaw before caressing your skin with his lips, feather-light and teasing. In all honesty, watching you act bossy was kind of hot if he didn’t think too hard about context. Too bad he didn't get very far before the door suddenly opened.

Todoroki poked his head inside the room, locked eyes with Katsuki who gave him a ferocious death glare, and shut it a second later. He could hear conversation in the hallway. One familiar, whiny voice was complaining about being "interrupted". Knowing he'd get no privacy while in someone else's house, Katsuki backed away from the wall and stuffed his hands into his pockets as you suppressed a snicker.

"Well, tell me what ya wanna do. We can stay here for a while longer, or we can leave and head to my place." He checked his watch: 9:47 PM. How the hell did it get so late? Wait- "How long are you here for? When do you have to go back?" With everything else coming to light, he'd forgotten to find out exactly how much time the two of you had together. If you only had a day and those idiots wasted it for some stupid surprise-

“I’m here for a week.” He visibly relaxed at hearing that. While a week was much better than only a day or two, it wasn’t long enough; it would never be enough. “If that works for you, that is. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if things didn’t, y’know, go well.”

Thank fuck he came to his senses before you walked out of his life forever. Again. “Why would it be a problem?”

You shrugged. “I mean, we’re kinda in reversed positions. I’m here unexpectedly, interrupting your life, relying on you for stuff even though I brought clothes and things I need with me…”

"I guess so," he admitted. "But unlike you, I'm technically my own boss. Unless it's an emergency, the others can take care of things for a week. They did it for a whole month, after all. But we can talk about it more later. Answer the other question: what do you wanna do?" His apartment was a much quieter and more comfortable space to talk and catch up properly, so he hoped you chose to leave rather than stick around much later.

“I dunno why you’re asking me when it’s your birthday, but fine.” You glanced to your left at the closed door leading back to the hallway where you could hear faint voices and music. “While I definitely don’t want to stay super long, do you mind at least introducing me to your other friends first?” There was no way you were going to pass up an opportunity to meet some of the others. You’d spotted Jirou, Sero, and a few other semi-familiar faces; even if you didn’t get a chance to talk more with Kirishima or Todoroki, you wanted to be able to look back on some unforgettable memories with Katsuki’s other friends.

Even though you saw his eye twitch, Katsuki didn’t argue about wanting to stay. “Yeah, fine.” Maybe a bit of mingling could distract him from falling back into a sour mood. Opening the door for you, he led you back down the hallway where, unsurprisingly, a small group had been waiting for your reappearance. Another upside of introducing yourself was to hopefully diminish the amount of gawking aimed your way.

Wasting no time, Katsuki immediately honed in on Yaoyorozu and Jirou who were chatting off to the side. He steered you to stand in front of him as he quickly introduced you to Jirou and vice versa before guiding Yaoyorozu off to the side for some private conversation. Well, being personable wasn’t exactly his strong suit…

Luckily, Jirou took the lead and rolled through the initial awkwardness. Apparently, Yaoyorozu had filled her in on what was happening and who you were, so at least you didn’t have to recount all of that again. Rather than pry into your relationship with Katsuki, Jirou asked about what you did back home and your hobbies while you inquired about her quirk.

Talking with her was easy and comforting with her chill demeanor. When Katsuki and Yaoyorozu rejoined the conversation, he blurted out that you were a good singer which prompted a sudden urge to strangle him. It was one thing to sing for yourself or for Katsuki, but Jirou’s parents were professional musicians and she no doubt inherited a ton of their music-making talent. Luckily, Jirou didn’t ask for a demonstration of any kind, and instead, just encouraged you to keep practicing if it was something you enjoyed. You thanked her and, before you could say goodbye, Katsuki was already ushering you towards a different friend group.

“That was weird, but she’s nice,” Jirou commented once she and Yaoyorozu were alone again. “Seeing him hold hands with someone is kinda bizarre since I never thought it would happen, but I’m glad it did. Oh, what did he want to talk to you about?”

Yaoyorozu smiled softly. “Bakugo-san wanted to thank me for helping (y/n)-san earlier today. He said he owes me a favor whenever I may need it.” Jirou’s eyebrows shot up into her purple bangs and glanced over at the two of you now talking with Ashido, Sero, and Tokoyami. Getting a “thank you” out of Bakugo was rare, but having him admit to owing someone a favor was downright unheard of. “He really is a caring person. It’s unfortunate that she can’t stay with how happy he seems…” Yaoyorozu leaned down and gave her girlfriend a light, chaste kiss upon her hair, grateful for the joy by her side.

While it was one thing to grow accustomed to pink skin and minor edits to the human bodies you were used to, seeing Tokoyami and Dark Shadow up close was more jarring than you assumed it would be. You knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but trying to make sense of Dark Shadow's sketchy, ethereal appearance proved difficult. Reflexively, you kept Katsuki at arm's length while Sero chuckled at how sad Dark Shadow looked at your hesitation to touch it.

"C'mon, it isn't that scary-" A flick to his temple from Ashido cut off Sero's harmless mocking.

"Dummy, she said people don't have quirks where she's from," she chided. "I mean, they don't even have people with pink skin! Their loss, honestly."

Luckily, Tokoyami didn't appear insulted; maybe he was accustomed to people finding his quirk intimidating. "I see. There is nothing to fear. However, your comfort remains most important."

While you nodded and cautiously held out your right hand while gripping Katsuki's arm with your left, he reassured you that everything was fine. "Nothin' to be- ah shit." Seemingly out of nowhere stumbled a more-than-tipsy Camie who was looking around for "ghost doggy" whatever the hell that meant. If there was anyone here at this party with the potential to embarrass him in front you, it was Camie. And Kaminari. But he was hopefully too busy hooking up with Shinsou to cause any real damage.

"Like, found you," she declared before confidently patting Dark Shadow like someone might pet a- oh. Ghost doggy. Duh. "Hm? Who's this huh? New bestie?" Did she totally space out during his declaration earlier? "Why's this phone talking weird?" She pointed a nail at the translator in your hand as you stood by awkwardly.

"Go drink some water," Katsuki ordered while knowing damn well that Camie could down a staggering amount of alcohol before passing out on a toilet. "And since you have elevator music and emojis between your ears, I'll say again that this is my girlfriend."

It seemed to take Camie a good five seconds to process that information, but when she did, Katsuki swore he saw a twinkle in her eye. "OMG, for realsies? You're like, so brave and stuff," she remarked with complete sincerity towards you while Sero and Ashido were already cracking up. "Cute dress, tho. I'm Utsushimi Camie, but just Camie is chill.”

“Uh, hi.” The translator butchered Camie’s words, but at least you caught her name. “Nice to meet you. You can just call me (y/n).”

Camie smiled before pointing her pouting lips up at Katsuki while still holding tight to Dark Shadow; Surprisingly, Tokoyami didn’t seem to mind, at least not outwardly. “Bakugoooo, why didn’t you spill that you were off the market? I thought we were fam.”

“Why can you never talk normally?” He could already feel impending bullshit creeping nearer. "And I didn't even know she was gonna be here, so don't throw a damn fit." While that was true, there wasn't much of a point explaining your whole backstory if your stay here wasn't permanent or at least longer than a week.

Camie tilted her head with a blank stare before finally letting go of Dark Shadow and cocking her hip. She glanced down at you, winked, then held her hand up to her chin. “Don’t you fucking-”

Too late. A stream of opaque, light pink smoke poured out of her mouth and swirled into a tall cloud, effectively catching the attention of everyone else in the room. It only took a second for an image to appear in the smoke. A mirror copy of Katsuki now stood in front of you, albeit the fluttering sparkles surrounding him weren't exactly normal. Katsuki wanted to scream.

"Hey there, beautiful," the fake Katsuki purred with a wink. "You made my birthday wish come true by being here." Ashido and Sero sputtered with laughter; even Tokoyami couldn't hold back a low chuckle. The only one in the room who didn't seem to be laughing was the real Katsuki. However, before he could blow up Camie's cloud, you paused your shocked giggles to point at the imposter's face.

"Ahem… nice try, but he doesn't look right," you accused with squinted eyes. "The nose is off and his eyes aren't the right shade of red. Also, the real Katsuki has a way with romantic words that this fake just can't compete with." Accepting his defeat with mocking grace, the illusion huffed and shrugged with a smirk before the smoke dissipated, leaving only the smiling Camie behind.

"Wow, you're like, pretty cool. But I think the birthday boy is broken or something." Her eyes drifted up, causing you to turn and see a glowing-faced Katsuki who refused to look you in the eye. Oops, I'll make it up to him later.

Sero and Ashido took turns making kissy noises before being yelled at by Katsuki. "SHUT THE HELL UP! WHERE'S MY DAMN CAKE SO I CAN GET OUTTA HERE?!"

While you were being introduced to his friends, Midoriya and the other chewed-out friends hung back and out of the spotlight to give the two of you some space and reflect on their actions. Uraraka rested her swollen feet in a recliner they'd bought once the pregnancy was announced. Midoriya stood nearby with Todoroki before heading to the kitchen in silence to bring out the requested cake since Bakugo’s voice cut across everyone else in the room. The most forlorn of the bunch, Kirishima leaned against the wall while finishing off a drink that smelled of strong alcohol.

"Kirishima." Todoroki calling his name barely made him look up. "You should try to talk to him. Not tonight, but-"

"Nah," the redhead interrupted with a shake of his head. "I've pissed him off enough for one day. I'll let him come to me when he wants."

Uraraka and Todoroki shared a concerning look. While the earlier confrontation was far from pleasant and gave them much to think about, they knew Bakugo wouldn't be mad at them forever; they'd shared too much throughout the years to let this be the end of their friendship. Maybe Kirishima needed some time to accept his faults and mistakes just like the rest of them.

"Oi, about time." Midoriya had lit the candles and carried the cake into the main room before giving Katsuki some space while the other guests crowded around the faint orange glow. "Candles? I'm not a damn kid- wait, how many are on here?! I'm not that old!"

Kaminari poked his head out of the crowd. “Hey! You’re lucky I resisted eating some frosting before now! No one told me I had to do math today.”

Katsuki groaned. “Counting isn’t fucking math- whatever…” Standing behind him, you grabbed his shoulders and turned him back around to face the cake to keep him from arguing with Kaminari. Grimacing at the candles - there were at least thirty - the sudden sound of a few people beginning to actually sing him a happy birthday song forced him to wheel back around and shout, “You all got a death wish?!” Only two notes made it out before he blew out the candles in a single gust like the Big Bad Wolf; a few of them even toppled over into the icing.

You sat beside Katsuki on one of the couches in the living room, a plate piled high with a large cake slice in one hand and a fork in the other. Of course, he’d given himself the first and largest slice and you the second. He didn’t even bother with a fork, opting instead to just eat it with his fingers. “I thought you didn’t like sweets that much?”

“I don’t,” he answered before licking orange and white icing from the corner of his mouth. He missed a spot, but swatted your hand away before you could wipe it away yourself. "But one of my old classmates made it and he's a damn good baker because his quirk relies on sugar. He made most of the birthday cakes for us while we lived in dorms."

"So I guess he knows what you like, then," you murmured before taking another bite; by the large bites he took, you suspected Katsuki's vocal aversion to sweet things wasn't as authentic as he claimed. It really was delicious, though - not as sweet as a typical store-bought cake, but still flavorful and rich. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone approaching the two of you, but the moist cake in your mouth kept you from greeting him properly.

"Aren't ya gonna introduce me, Kacchan?" Hovering in front of the couch, Kaminari smirked down at Katsuki who barely acknowledged his longtime friend.

He stuffed another bite of cake in his mouth before retoring, "Only if you lock the door before you try and fuck in someone else's house." Kaminari sputtered and spun his head around to make sure no one overheard Katsuki's jab even though Uraraka chewing him out earlier was loud enough for most of the guests to hear. "Speaking of, where's the insomniac?"

You shielded your mouth to keep icing from flying out while you attempted to recover from choking on your laughter. "Keep your- what the hell, man?!" Katsuki snorted at his incredulous face, a rare sight for someone with so little shame. "Shinsou's probably in the bathroom or something. But don't make fun of me for shooting my shot when I just wanted to say 'hi' to the girl you've been simping over for months."

He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. "Too easy," Katsuki sighed. "But one, shut up, and two, what the fuck is a 'simp'?" You had to set down your plate before it toppled to the floor as you struggled to catch your breath. Their dynamic seemed even more chaotic now than what you recalled from the anime. "Oi, you good? The hell's so funny?"

"She knows I'm right."

"About what?"

"That you're a major simp."

"Stop callin' me that! If it's short for 'simpleton', then that's definitely you, not me."

"Nope. Wrong," you managed to sputter while wiping tears from your eyes and a few final coughs as both Kaminari and Katsuki stared at you. "Katsuki, that's not what simp means. But you're not one, anyway. So, you're both wrong. Also, hi. Nice to meet you…?"

"Kaminari," he answered while a confused Katsuki pouted through his cake slice. "And same to you. But also, are you suuuuuuure…?"

You nodded before picking your cake back up and turning to Katsuki knowing what he was going to ask. Of course, you already knew Kaminari's name, but since you hadn't formally met yet, it was a good idea to exchange brief introductions. "I'll tell you what it means later, but being labeled a simp is an insult." He was more like a kept man mixed with a snarky house husband… boyfriend… yeah, something like that.

He licked the last of the icing from his fingers while staring daggers at Kaminari who by this point, knew the guy was mostly bark and only mildly bitey. "You're fuckin' lucky I'm in a good mood, because I'm giving you a head start. One."

"Head start for-"

"Two."

Pursing his lips, Kaminari understood and began moving away to a safe distance before bending down and whispering something in Katsuki's ear. Whatever it was sent sparks flying from his palms as he yelled and leaned over the arm of the couch trying to snatch the tail of Kaminari's shirt, but for once he wasn't quick enough and Kaminari escaped towards a very perplexed Shinsou hiding out in the shadows with Tokoyami.

It didn't take long before the whiplash of the day finally caught up to you. A single yawn had Katsuki asking if you were finally ready to go, to which you gave an affirmative nod. "Mmyeah. Just lemme ask Uraraka something first."

While you headed over to the recliner where Uraraka was sleepily chatting with Yaoyorozu, Katsuki scanned the room and zeroed in on the sullen redhead on the opposite side. Despite not wanting a repeat of everything that pissed him off earlier, just leaving Kirishima to simmer in his own self-pity felt… if things were switched, Katsuki knew what would happen.

A shadow poured across Kirishima's face, cheeks tinted pink from yet another drink as he looked up to see Katsuki standing over him.

"Huh-"

"Kirishima. Stop drinking and listen to me." He lowered his drink and winced as if bracing for round two of the harsh-but-deserved verbal barrage cage match. "I meant everything I said, and I bet (y/n) did, too. The way you guys went about all this was shitty." Kirishima frowned, but Katsuki continued. "One thing I didn't say, though… was thanks. 'Cause I know you idiots only did it to help me out with all this stuff." The love stuff, really. At that exact moment, Katsuki cut his eyes to find you standing in front of Uraraka, but you were looking at him, because of course you were. "But don't you ever do something so fuckin' stupid again, got it?"

To anyone who didn't know him, Kirishima's sudden blubbering could've been caused by all the alcohol he downed in the past hours. But Katsuki knew he wore his emotions, even the sappy ones, right on his sleeve. "Man, I'm still so -hic- soooooo sorry! And I super duper swear-"

"You already apologized. An' I'm still pissed at you and the others. I just didn't wanna leave without saying that your screwed up plan was worth it." He left those final words as he walked away to find his way back to you.

"Everything ok?" Your eyes flickered between Katsuki and Kirishima as you headed to the genkan to replace your house slippers with your heels.

"Mm, fine," he grunted while flicking a wave over his shoulder in a wordless goodbye to everyone. "What'd you need Uraraka for?"

You leaned against the wall for balance as you slid into your own shoes; even though you loved these shoes and appreciated how they made your legs look, walking around in them all night would have been tortuous. "Oh, I asked if this translator thing needed a charger or something, but she didn't have one? That the girl who made it didn't mention anything about charging it…" Four months of Japanese lessons weren't nearly enough for conversational edification despite how hardcore of a teacher Livia was, so this thing needed to supplement your gaps in grammar and knowledge since your phone didn't work here.

Without warning, Katsuki grabbed the translator out of your hand, turned around, and yelled over the entire room in his raspy Japanese to catch Uraraka’s attention while you fiddled with the buckle of your shoe. “Wh-?” All you caught through the barked Japanese back and forth between him and Uraraka was a name: Hatsume.

He dropped the device back into your hand with a, “Should be fine,” as you stood at your full height plus heels. Without moving his head, Katsuki gave you a not-so-quick up and down with his eyes, pausing as he stopped to meet your own. Though still shorter than him, it was nice not to have to crane your neck so far to see him. Either he appreciated that too, or admired how the shoes made your legs look. Maybe both. Probably both.

As he buckled his polished leather motorcycle boots, he called back around the corner to someone else, but you turned to open the door and hide a yawn. He placed a sturdy hand on your lower back while leading you outside into the warm spring air.

“Feels weird takin’ you back to my place for a change.” You felt his fingers trace a line from your waist to your hand, his fingers lacing with yours through muscle memory. He ignored the cars parked in the driveway and stopped next to his motorcycle. “My ride. Like it?”

You remembered how he stared at the stopped motorcycle all those months ago and smiled. “Looks nice; very you. Guess you decided to give into some self indulgence for once? And does this mean I get to ride back with you?”

After a second, both of you realized that, for different reasons, you could not ride back with him and said “shit,” at exactly the same time.

Your luggage was still in Yaoyorozu’s car, and Katsuki was not going to let you ride while wearing zero protective gear. "Not tonight. I gotta…" At that moment, Yaoyorozu and Jirou came outside, the latter holding a large slice of birthday cake in a clear reusable container. Perfect timing.

“Bakugo-san!” Yaoyorozu waved to the two of you. "Todoroki-san said you asked for some cake to take with you. And we still have (y/n)-san's suitcase in my car. We were about to head home as well and wanted to catch you before you left."

"Suitcase?" Ah fuck, right. You actually brought shit with you, so riding with him was out even if you had the right gear. "If you're heading out anyway, can she ride with you and just drop her and her stuff off at my building?" Yaoyorozu was smart enough to pick up on the unspoken addition to his growing list of owed favors.

She looked down at Jirou who nodded. "Sure, it's no trouble. I think I still have your address in my texts somewhere, but send it to me again."

"Ya fine with riding with them?" Katsuki asked, pulling out his phone. "We can take the bike out tomorrow. Show you the city, just like I promised."

That hypothetical "what if" scenario about how much he'd spoil you if he had the chance was about to come true. By the way your eyes lit up, you hadn't forgotten, either. "I'd like that."

Yaoyorozu glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror as Jirou slid in beside her. "I figured today was gonna be busy, but not this much," Jirou joked while balancing the cake on her lap. "How does a relaxing bath sound when we get home? We can use that new tea blend you got the other day."

Her answered smile was tired, but fond. "That sounds perfect, Kyoka." Both women turned to see you presumably saying your goodbyes to Bakugo as he sat on his bike, his boots planted firmly on the driveway to keep his balance steady.

"Drive safe, OK?"

"What, think I'll crash? Not a damn chance."

"Just accept my concern, birthday boy." You tried to flick his forehead, but a quick hand swatted you away before easily sliding your wrist between his thumb and index finger and letting his hand slot with yours as gravity swayed it back and forth. Just a twenty minute separation was proving tough to swallow now that he had you back, temporary though it was. Like he'd speed off and arrive at his apartment only for you to never meet him there. But you knew his faraway looks by now and squeezed his fingers to make him feel just how real you were. "I'll see you there. Love you."

He was never gonna get used to that, but he didn't want to. Each repeat was like hearing it for the first time - minus all the miserable heartbreak. But now, he could say it back. "Mm. Love you, too."

"Aww, that's kinda cute," teased Jirou as she leaned across her girlfriend to mentally snapshot the two of you kissing. It reminded her of getting caught making out in the U.A. dorm kitchen by Sero and Ojiro. She was too embarrassed to look them in the eyes for a week.

"Kyoka! Don't stare!"

"You're staring too!"

"N-no I'm not! I'm just waiting for (y/n)-san," she argued before turning away right as Bakugo was adjusting his helmet, his gloved middle finger waving in the air towards Jirou who just laughed. The two women quickly composed themselves as you opened the car back door.

Buckling your seatbelt, you gave a small wave to Katsuki who revved his bike engine before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing down the lamplit street.

You took a deep breath and slumped into the car seat before seeing Yaoyorozu and Jirou staring at you over their shoulders. "Uh… thanks for driving me. And everything else, today. Again." Having strangers haul you around town and depend on them for everything… no wonder Katsuki's short temper was pushed to the limit during his first few weeks staying with you.

"It's no problem," Jirou reassured as Yaoyorozu pulled out of the driveway. "Bakugo's place isn't super out of the way. Considering we probably ask more of him than he does any of us, it's the least we can do."

Self-sufficient to a fault. At least you felt somewhat prepared with what you brought with you.

Most of the drive was silent. Yaoyoru and Jirou spoke in hushed voices over the phone directions as you gawked at the towering neon lights of late night Tokyo that closed in with the residential neighborhood left behind.

The main glow of the city centered around a tall building that you guessed was Tokyo Tower. Although you appeared to be within city limits, Yaoyorozu drove along the outskirts and avoided the condensed city core. Bright neon signs embellished shop windows and jumbo screens cycling through product ads were plastered on corners just high enough to catch in your peripheral vision as you passed. Sirens cried in the distance and you wondered if a villain was causing mayhem between the maze of claustrophobic structures. The clasp on your purse became the perfect fidget toy for your twitchy fingers.

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, you looked out the window to see none other than Katsuki parked one lane over and one car ahead of you; the grenade on the back of his helmet made him easy to pinpoint. Somehow, Yaoyorozu had caught up with him which meant you'd probably arrive at about the same time. He must've noticed in his side mirror because he swiveled his head, headlights and neon reflecting off his helmet, to look right at the car. Even though the opaque visor, you felt his stare before the light turned green - no, blue? Either way, it wasn't long before you lost sight of him again as the bike sped off with practiced ease.

How the hell did they catch up to me? He wasn't a speed demon on the bike, but sitting behind some old hag who should've had her license taken away a decade ago would've dragged down anyone else when he could slip through shitty late night traffic. While he didn't want to keep you waiting, not after six agonizing months, there was something he needed to pick up before inviting you into his home for the next six days.

Rounding a familiar corner, his building stood a few blocks away on the left. All he needed to do was park in the garage, run into the konbini next door, and wait outside for you to pull up. Easy.

Was the garage door always this slow to open?! His knee bobbed impatiently before he slid under the creaking door while ducking his head. His spot, the one he always parked in, was predictably empty. None of them were assigned, but there was an unacknowledged, collective agreement between tenants not to take anyone else's space. Besides, no one was dumb enough to park near his bike, anyway.

Once parked, Katsuki slid off his helmet and shook his head like a wet dog to dislodge the flattened hair… then skidded back to check his appearance in the side mirror. Good enough.

With helmet in hand, he strode through the lot and shoved his wallet against the reader before shouldering open the door leading into the main lobby. Now, all he had to do was-

"Welcome back, Dynamight." The ever-present Takahata tossed out a greeting from his desk. Katsuki never saw anyone else watching over the building. Hell, did the guy ever leave that damn desk? Maybe it had to do with his quirk. Katsuki never bothered to ask.

Waving over his shoulder, he stomped across the polished tile to exit back out onto the street. But no sooner had he walked ten paces when Yaoyorozu's car pulled up next to the curb, Jirou spying him through the glass. So much for running a quick errand before you arrived; it wasn't a big deal if you accompanied him, anyway.

When the car door opened and your heels swung down to meet the sidewalk, it really, finally hit him that you'd switched places: he, totally unprepared, was letting you live with him. Share his space, his food, his routine… fuck, was his bathroom clean?!

A honking car blazing down the road made his eyes snap back to the present, landing on you digging in the trunk for something. Way to be a good host, Katsuki.

Before you could drag the suitcase out of the car, he leaned over you, picked it up by a handle on the side, and set it upright on the sidewalk. It wasn't heavy, but he'd packed smaller bags for longer trips in the past and wondered if you'd sat on it just to get it to zip.

You patted his arm before waving for Jirou to roll down her window so you could thank her and Yaoyorozu for a final time. Maybe you could ask Katsuki for a way to show your appreciation with more than just words. Of course, they brushed it off as no big deal - it was a big deal - as a hand came from behind to rest next to yours on the window opening.

He boxed you in and extended his own rare display of gratitude before Jirou held out the forgotten container of cake. Holding it close, you waved them off into the night with his chest at your back. It was just you and Katsuki now under the illuminated sidewalk. You turned to him with a tired smile, but the fancy-looking building behind him pulled your attention away. The flawless white exterior, covered balconies, and crystal clear glass entryway exuded luxury and comfort; it wasn't Yaoyorozu's mansion, but if he lived here, then his place was no doubt bigger and nicer than what you were used to back home.

"Hey." Before you could step towards the building, Katsuki slid an arm around your waist, his lips brushing against your hair before leading you away from the building. You grabbed your suitcase handle from him as you followed and wondered if your assumption was wrong before realizing he was headed towards an open shop on the corner with an orange, green, red, and white striped sign stretched across the top of the brick walls.

The sliding doors opened with a pleasant ding while you kept pace with Katsuki. Aisles and aisles lined with boxes, bags, bottles, and baked goods all crammed in a corner store that appeared deceptively compact from the outside. Even a common convenience store held novelty while visiting an unfamiliar country.

It was easy for Katsuki to find what was looking for considering he stopped by this konbini at least once a week since moving in next door. The last minute snacks before a long patrol or a fresh box of bandages before returning home made him a regular customer; after a while, the things he bought in regular rotation never seemed to be low in stock.

Behind him, the sound of your suitcase wheels rolling across the floor tiles in perfect repetition set him at ease. You were within reach. While in his world, it was his responsibility to keep you safe; lucky you, saving people was in his job description.

The late hour meant there were probably as many customers in the whole store as there were employees working. Four, maybe five, the two of you included. He only passed one person crouched in front of a display to restock a low shelf on his march down the personal hygiene aisle. Recalling the hellish embarrassment he'd felt when you'd tasked him with picking out condoms was as predictable as it was laughable. The last time he bought some was over three, maybe close to four years ago. Now, it only took him a few seconds to grab what he needed without distress - being able to read the fucking packaging did help, though.

With his helmet still tucked under one arm, he turned to find you looking every bit like the tourist you were. Eyes scanning across completely mundane items no doubt trying to decipher what they were if the packaging didn't make it obvious, you finally noticed him staring and smiled in that same pleased way you used to whenever he untwisted his tongue long enough to say something sincere. Those tiny, silent gestures were some of the most missed.

Heading towards the register with you at his side, Katsuki paused in front of a section of savory snacks and grabbed a small bag of his favorite extra spicy chips. He felt a tug on his arm as you hooked your elbows together, keeping him in place as you looked over the snacks, too. If you wanted one of everything just to try it, he'd hand you his platinum card and keep his mouth shut just to make you happy. But no, you didn't load your arms up with everything you could carry. Instead, you picked up a canister of chocolate and vanilla wafer cookies with little dancing pandas on the label. He snickered at how predictable you were before grabbing the tin and tugging you along towards the front of the store.

Lucky for Katsuki, the chatty older clerk that always held a one-way conversation with him wasn't around. You continued holding his arm as he tossed his things onto the counter. Condoms and snacks: the late night birthday essentials.

The cashier rang everything up while he dug in his back pocket for his phone. He didn't need his wallet half the time since most places took quick and easy payment through phones so long as you didn't carry around an outdated brick.

The air was crisp as he led you back outside to finally go home. All he had to do was make it past Takahata and he'd be fine.

The front doors opened for him with you close behind, your suitcase wheels skipping over the tile gaps in a quicker pattern compared to the konbini floor. Expectantly, no one was around except for Takahata who looked up to welcome him back like he always did. "Good to see you back, Dynamight- oh." Pause. "You have a guest?" Takahata was quick to slip back into his usual composed and polite self, smiling as the two of you approached the elevator past the front desk.

Still, his obvious surprise made Katsuki bite the meat of his cheek. "Yes," he grit out with you still close behind and none the wiser to their passing exchange. "Staying with me for a week. That fine?" It wasn't a question of permission, but one of formality.

"Of course," Takahata answered with a nod. There was no reason for him to interrogate you, not when Katsuki had been living here for years and never caused trouble… aside from those idiots busting down his door, but that was their fault, not his.

You waved your fingers in greeting to the man behind the front desk. The exchange between him and Katsuki must not have been important since he didn't stop to chat. No apartment you'd lived in had an on-duty security guard, so the upscale style wasn't just for show.

Katsuki punched the elevator call button with the side of his fist, causing the metal doors to slide open. You rolled your suitcase across the threshold, yawned, and let your head rest on his shoulder before the elegant lobby disappeared behind the closing doors.

Takahata, now alone, chuckled to himself. My, how unexpected. Quite an exciting night. Good for Dynamight-san. The Hero never had guests outside of other Heroes because Takahata had seen every single person that came in and out of the building for the past eight years without fail. So, anyone new - especially if they accompanied someone as busy and stern as the #2 Hero in Japan - stood out.

Waiting in the elevator, you felt his free arm snake around your waist and watched his nostrils flare through your lashes. After all these months, you still remembered how to read him. There was nothing for Katsuki to worry about; you weren't a dream or nightmare or anything else that would vanish before morning.

Only when the doors slid open did you glance at the panel to notice you were on the top floor. You wondered how the gleaming city must look from his window, envious of the imagined view compared to your own parking lot.

He nudged you out of the elevator while you dug in your purse for the translator. Carrying a small bag meant things never got lost at the very bottom. You balanced pulling your suitcase, carrying the birthday cake, and fiddling with the translator buttons as Katsuki slid a keyring out of his pocket. Maybe you'd expended all your nervous energy earlier, but being able to finally rest was higher on your priority list than snooping through all of Katsuki's things or judging his decoration preferences.

"Shit." As if realizing something for the first time, he hung his head with the key in the lock. "When you go in, do not wander around. Just gonna make sure it's not a fuckin' mess because I wasn't expecting guests," he said accusingly, to which you just stuck out your tongue and shrugged. "But I've got a roommate. Sorta. And she's a bitch when it comes to literally everyone who isn't me. And still hates me most of the time."

Confused, you looked to him for answers, but he was already pushing his way inside. A… roommate? He didn't mention it earlier, and most of his closest friends seemed to be at the party, so who could it be? And why would he live with someone who apparently hates his guts?

All your questions went unanswered as you traced his steps into the dark apartment. With the flick of a switch, the lights illuminated the genkan where he was already kicking off his boots. Well, shit. You knew his place would be nice, but it looked more like a display home set up for flattering photos than a lived-in space.

"Just," he started as he stepped further into the living room before turning right back around to grab your suitcase and hoist it over his shoulder with little effort. "Stay here. If she comes towards you, don't make any sudden movements. And-"

"Katsuki."

"What?"

"Calm the fuck down." For someone so self aware, he seemed oblivious to just how frazzled he was acting. "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to make things perfect. I'm just here to spend time with you."

His nostrils flared again, but you got your point across. If you could survive him dropping in while you were asleep in your underwear, then there should be no issues having his girlfriend stay over for a week. You watched him suck on his teeth and just out his bottom lip that threatened to twist into a smirk. "Don't move."

God, you were so- You didn't even have to try to read him so easily and it drove him fucking crazy. But he loved it. Loved you. "Stupid," he growled through a grin as he stomped down the long hallway towards his bedroom.

He pushed open his door and swung your bag off his shoulder to sit against the wall. A moment passed as he stared into his shadowed closet, eyes cast down where he knew your other bag - the one he'd originally taken with him - lay neatly among pressed shirts and spare gear.

Tossing his helmet, convenience store bag, and leather jacket on the bed, he wondered briefly if his sheets were clean before remembering he'd changed them a few days prior because someone decided it was the perfect place to cough up a hairball. Next, he swiped up discarded clothes around the room to drop into his hamper. He knew you wouldn't care about something so trivial, but he cared, dammit! You were right that he was far too wound up when the hard part was in the past and all he needed to do was enjoy your company. But he was gonna enjoy it without feeling like a slob.

He listened down the hallway for any sign of trouble before moving onto the master bathroom. While it wasn't the absolute cleanest, it was acceptable considering there was no time to scrub the whole room since keeping it hygienic was essential to prevent mold and mildew.

Japanese bathrooms were far more elaborate than the average bathroom in other countries. Temperature-controlled soaking tubs, options for dehumidifying the room or drying your clothes, heated toilet seats, and digital touch pads for all of it. Of course, Katsuki's place had all of the modern comforts plus a few extras that he didn't even use. The bathroom was a big selling point for the apartment considering he needed somewhere to unwind and relax his muscles after rough days.

Scanning the room for anything worth hiding, he spotted an open bottle of lube on the counter. He snatched it with a curse and dropped it in the nightstand drawer next to his bed. Not that you'd care since sex wasn't the same worry it was in the beginning, but whatever; he was too accustomed to hiding all of his personal things for the sake of privacy, and Kirishima's earlier admission did little to assuage that reflex.

"Oh, Kaaaaaaaatsuki!"

Hearing you call his name had him realizing he hadn't seen Princess Explosion Murder since returning home. Shit. Katsuki stomped down the hallway and hoped he wasn't about to find you fighting off his-

"So, why didn't you tell me you got a cat? Hm?...What?" Just like he'd ordered, you hadn't moved from the genkan, but the whole scene made… no sense. You knelt down with your hand outstretched while his terror of a cat rubbed her face against your knuckles, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth in the air.

He ran the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip, totally baffled at what he was seeing. "... What'd you do to-? She hates everyone."

You just looked between the purring cat and Katsuki and shrugged. "I doubt that. I just did the slow blinking thing and let her come to me. You're so pretty and fluffy, yes you are! Such a sweet kitty… your dad is just making things up, yes he is."

To be honest, he should've seen this coming. You with your otherworldly ability to befriend the most ill-tempered person around: first him, now his demonic cat. The absurdity of it all made him snort out a laugh, but it switched to a hacking cough when you called him a "dad". "What the fuck. Do not call me her dad or any equivalent."

Ignoring him, you stood up and gestured down at Princess. "You still haven't told me her name- wait! Let me guess… mm, Snowball is too cliché. Knowing you, it must be something ridiculous and over the top."

"Tch. You'll never figure it out, but it fits this bratty cat perfectly." As if knowing she was being insulted, Princess leapt to the back of the couch and stared at him with what he could only describe as unfiltered disgust. He was used to it at this point, though, and sneered right back. "Gimme this," he said while taking the cake slice in your hand and walking it to the fridge.

"Your apartment is nice." You followed him into the kitchen and soaked up what you couldn't see from standing in the genkan. Just like he mentioned, it was much bigger than your own home and could've passed for a single story house from the living room and kitchen alone. "And such a big kitchen… oh, before I forget, did you like the hot sauce?"

With the cake put away, he closed the fridge with a shoulder lean and turned to you. "What're you talking about? What hot sauce?"

You reached across the counter to examine one of the many spice bottles lined up on a matte black floating shelf. Despite the organized minimalism evident in his personal design choices, little details made clear exactly who lived here. "The one Uraraka was supposed to give you during the holidays. Wait, don't tell me you never got it."

Poking out his bottom lip, Katsuki narrowed his eyes until they cut back to the fridge. He yanked it open, rattled some bottles and jars around until he pulled out a familiar bottle. "This? This hot sauce? Uraraka gave me some story about a fan wanting me to have this, but- damn, I knew something about the taste was familiar…You made this with the peppers that made me sick, didn't you?"

"I mean, yes," you admitted without shame while stepping closer to examine the bottle that now looked half empty. "I was worried you wouldn't like it, but glad to see I was wrong. And I tasted it before giving it to her, so I know how spicy it is. I think this was the… second batch I made."

He twirled the unlabeled bottle around to mix the settled contents while shaking his head. "You're ridiculous." His eyes flickered from the homemade hot sauce back up to you, tilted grin and all. "Was she right, though?"

You knew that tone, dipped in his own specialized brand of fiendish teasing paired with a small side of bashful consideration. Leaning back against the black marble counter, a flash of déjà vu tickled at your memory. "Right about what?"

One step, two, three. If you were a stranger, having a scarred man with burning eyes lock you against the counter between his arms might've been intimidating. But your composure remained steady. "Are you a fan?"

"Of the one and only Bakugo Katsuki," you began as you rested your arm against his and let your fingers fiddle with the fabric rolled snug around his forearms. "Or of you the Hero? Or both?"

You felt the muscle twitch under your palm while he hovered as if simmering on a low, steady heat. "I'm no different out there than I am in here. No fake persona. Me an' the Hero Dynamight are one and the same."

As you listened to the translator, something sounded unfamiliar. You tapped his forearm with a nail and said, "Dynamight? Dynamight, like the- wait, is that your Hero name?"

"Yeah? Technically, it's longer than that, but got shortened- whatever, you know that."

"No, I don't. You never told me."

Now, it was his turn to be confused. "I definitely did."

"Uh, no?" Incredulous, you poked him in the chest. "I would've definitely remembered considering how big a fan I am," you argued, tossing his words back in his face.

When it came to you, Katsuki was all bark and no bite. His lip curled as he squished your cheeks with his hand. Maybe he knew he was wrong and just didn't want to admit it because he missed the pointless bickering as much as you did. Whatever the reason, you didn't mind his softening glare rimmed with crisp eyeliner. "Dummy." The way his eyes lingered on your puckered lips lined with the faint tint of faded lipstick made his intention obvious.

Katsuki pressed his mouth to yours while he loosened his grip on your cheeks. The edge of the counter dug into your back as he stepped fully into your space, his breath tasting of mint flavored gum. You dug your fingertips into his tense forearm as your eyes closed and mouth opened invitingly.

Calloused fingers traced the profile of your jaw down your neck, goosebumps accompanying the shiver down your spine as his canines tugged at your bottom lip. To refamiliarize yourself with his taste and touch and smell, to open the map you'd drawn from traveling his peaks and valleys in what seemed both like a lifetime ago and no time at all meant everything. His heart was finally bare, ripe, and within reach.

Your pulse was warm and rapid between his lips and across his tongue as he pressed his hips to yours and fisted the cherry fabric of your dress. There was time for softness and patience, but that time wasn't now. Not when-

CLATTER

Both of you stilled. Katsuki ground his molars together and huffed through his nose before slowly craning his neck to glare over his shoulder with your fingers still gripping the top fastened button of his shirt.

A green plastic cup rolled across the kitchen floor before stopping at the edge of a growing puddle of water.

"Mrow."

The culprit sat staring at the two of you, the tip of her tail flicking over the edge of the counter. Katsuki sneered and you snickered in his ear. Getting cockblocked by his own fucking cat... I hate you.

"Oi," he snapped. "You know you're not allowed on the damn counter!" Twisting away from you, he hissed out a vulgar string of curses and slammed his palms down on the marble. The intimidating tactic worked, sending Princess Explosion Murder hopping to the floor with a chirp.

"Katsuki! Don't be mean." Coming up behind him, you lightly flicked him on the side of the head before picking the cup off the floor. "She's a cat. Cats knock things over if you leave them sitting out."

You didn't know that brat of a cat like he did. The cute and innocent act was just a front before she revealed her true nature when you least expected it. Sure, maybe she'd become more comfortable around him over time. And yes, maybe the scratches on his hands and arms had finally begun to fade. But deep down, she was still a menace, just like him.

Not wanting to start an argument over something so small, he huffed before snatching a dish towel and tossing it over the spill. "Anyway," he said while his foot led the towel in a circle. "It's still my birthday for about…forty minutes." For the first time in years, Katsuki wasn't eager for his birthday to end just yet. "Ya want a quick apartment tour or what?"

You swiveled on your heel and scanned the kitchen and living room. There were photos lined up on a bookshelf you wanted to ask him about. The minimalist, modern style coupled with specks of his life and personality begged to be studied. And of course, the still-unnamed cat who stared at you from a tall cat tree in the corner no doubt had an interesting backstory. But you had time; not a lot, but you could ask about all these things and more tomorrow.

"Lead on, Dynamight," you affirmed, holding out your hand for him to take. Without hesitating, Katsuki reached across the counter and seized your fingers to pull you behind him with a small, satisfied grin. A laugh bubbled out of you as he dragged you down the hallway in his cute little house slippers.

When he said quick, he meant it. Despite opening up just about every door leading directly to the hall, you had a generous thirty seconds to look around each room before he insisted on showing you the next. One was empty aside from one of those fancy robot litter boxes and some toys, another was an office covered in a thin layer of dust, and the most used room was filled with well-loved workout gear: a punching bag, a rowing machine, a rack of hand weights, etc.

Even his bathrooms were fancy; not quite as extravagant as Yaoyrozu's, but certainly the nicest apartment bathrooms you'd ever seen. "Unfair," you murmured, jealous of the simple advancements that appeared commonplace in most Japanese bathrooms. "What's it like having a tub big enough to actually relax in?"

Katsuki snorted. "Pretty damn nice. But I don't use this one much. The one attached to my bedroom is bigger.”

“Bigger?” Did he have a jacuzzi or hot tub or what? “Seeing all this, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t complain more about my cramped little apartment.”

He looked almost offended with matching slanted lips and brow. "I wasn't gonna complain about you givin’ me a place to stay. Maybe when I was a bratty teen, but not so much now.”

Aside from that first stressful week, he really didn’t comment at all on your mismatched furniture or lack of space. Honestly, your apartment was cleaner when he was there compared to when he wasn’t. “Fair. But really, your place is very nice. Kinda big for just you, though.”

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking more solemn than you expected. He shrugged, the weight visible on his broad shoulders. "Shacked up with Kirishima after we graduated, and Kami was basically a roommate who didn't pay rent with how often he crashed there. But I like my own space."

So much left unsaid. You padded back across the cool, white floor to mirror him. Under the fluorescent lighting, his exhaustion was more apparent, like he'd aged at least a year rather than six months. "That's something I like about you. Loud quirk, loud opinions, loud mouth." He couldn't argue with the truth as he rolled his eyes. "And you're still fine just, y'know, sitting with silence. I could lay on the couch and read and you'd cook and– and I really missed it. You. All of it."

Katsuki's knee bounced as he pulled his lip between his teeth and stared, searching your face for something only he could see. "Yeah. And you're right. This place has more space than I need. Just didn't realize it 'til you came along."

The lump in your throat grew the longer his eyes lingered. "As much as I admire your guest bathroom, can we finish up the tour now?"

He hummed before backing out of the doorway with small, slow steps. You followed him down the hall while he ignored the rest of the unexplored rooms and pushed open a final door at the end of the hall on the right. "Here's my– hey! Little fucker."

Poking your head around the corner, you had little time to take in the one room you'd seen so far that actually looked lived-in before spotting the Unnamed Cat using your suitcase as a scratching post. "Hmm, well that's not nice." As Katsuki tried to shoo her away, she instead climbed on top of the bag and sat her fluffy butt down on the handle. "Alrighty, let's go Miss Troublemaker," you said before attempting to do the same, but even your gentle hand earned a swat that would have left a nice scratch had you not pulled away. "Wow, and I defended you earlier. I see how it is."

Rather than fight a cat to take back your bag, you bent down and pushed it across the floor with her still sitting on top before letting it coast right out of the doorway. "Sorry! Be nicer next time!" She meowed as you closed the door with a wave. "Maybe don’t scratch my things next- what?”

Katsuki stood with a shit-eating grin, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Told you she was a bitch," he bragged. "But if you leave your bag out there with her, she'll shred it out of spite."

"As long as she can't get inside it, then it's fine since the bag is old, anyway. And just tell me her name so I don't have to spend all night guessing," you conceded while plopping down on the end of his bed. Your palm slid across the plush, dark comforter as you cocked your head to the side.

"Give up on guessing after one name? Weak. But fine. Princess Explosion Murder. Don't fuckin' gimme that look! She's a spoiled brat filled with malice disguised as a cat."

Your shoulders shook as you heaved with laughter at how beautifully awful the name was; only Bakugo "Dynamight" Katsuki whose failed attempt at naming himself King Explosion Murder as a teenager would've carried on the legacy through his very first pet. "Y… you're the one who spoiled her!" Trying to talk through the giggling made your chest hurt, and his exasperated grimace just added to the hilarity. "Her collar has rhinestones on it! Princess Explosion Murder, oh my god… I love you so much."

As you tried to catch your breath, Katsuki's hand groped the wall behind him for the light switch and dimmed the bulbs low; one of those small quality of life things he never used, but was now grateful for. His steps were quiet as he made his way to the edge of the bed before digging one knee into the mattress and shading you from the ceiling glow, hands on either side of your head. It felt like no time had passed at all as he hovered, watching your eyes crinkle and cheeks swell. How easily he fell back into old routines of chatter and jabs that often ended in delighted silence. At last, you looked up at him, smile still wide and bright and full of-

"You swear you're real?" Despite everything, believing you were really here still seemed too good to be true. Too much of a dream for reality to uphold.

The corners of your lips dragged down into something more solemn, but your gaze remained steady with your hands on your chest gripping the translator. "Yeah, Katsuki. I'm real. Are you?"

His fingers clawed the sheets as he licked his bone-dry lips. "Yeah," was all he managed before you reached a hand forward with careful grace. Goosebumps pebbled his skin as you caressed his jaw, his cheek, his hair.

“Show me,” you implored with soft words and hard eyes.

So, he did.

While the last time the two of you were together was saturated with slow and memorable passion, you met his lustful fervor with hunger of your own. Six months of dreaming, imagining, and yearning for each other culminated in clawing hands and starving mouths hunting to whet their appetites. Knocking teeth went ignored in your fervor to grope every inch of warm, bare skin you could reach, but it wasn't enough. You swore you heard a button fly and hit the wall when he flung his shirt to the floor, desperation mixed with adrenaline to press heartbeat to heartbeat.

The bed was unfamiliar and big. The room, too. Everything was foreign, except for him. You knew him then and you know him now and you wish with everything - more than you could ever fathom - that you would know him in the future. Every lifetime, every universe where you and he may exist. Praying with blistered hands until your knees were raw and bloody to never forget the fiery salvation of loving Bakugo Katsuki.

Piece by piece, clothing piled onto the floor, save for your dress. He took care with the back zipper, fingers slowing to let the fabric fall away before folding it with deft hands and draping it across the back of a chair in the corner. You wouldn’t have cared much if it got a few wrinkles, but the sweetness of his consideration was endearing. The dress you hated before he came along now reminded you of his ruby eyes that you'd yearned to see one more time. He said you were beautiful in it, and now you felt beautiful out of it, too.

Katsuki found solace in your thighs, your hips, your ass, wherever his hands could grip after flipping you over to sit right on his face. Six months? No, it seemed more like a lifetime of waiting led the fervor that surged through him while you folded your arms against the headrest of his bed and whined into the crook of your elbow. He put that sharp tongue of his to work and left a trail of finger indents behind - evidence to find tomorrow that tonight was as real as any other.

Sweat pooled behind your knees as Katsuki kept you right where he wanted you. He countered every attempt at hovering with a breathy grunt, yanking you back down as if insulted at the miniscule distance you tried to create.

Katsuki was a sun: hot, searing, bright with energy and passion. A man made of starfire and kindling just itching to combust under ripe conditions. The way his mouth moved - without hesitation and burning with hunger - confirmed his piety. You were the idol of his worship. His devotion. His tongue pushed hymns from your lips, eyes closed in ecstatic prayer.

"A-ah Katsuki… fuck, I'm-!" To drown in your waves was holy bliss, holding you in place with sweaty palms while your thighs squeezed and back arched. Glancing down between your legs, he was already staring up at you, eyes dark and blown wide with lust as if committing your ecstasy to memory. Of course, he wouldn't be Katsuki if he didn't throw in a smug smirk, too, boastful even when his mouth was full and messy. Panting and whimpering through your teeth as you edged towards overstimulation, you reached down, grabbed a fistful of blonde hair, and tugged so you could lift yourself from his greedy mouth.

Eyes rolling back for only a moment, Katsuki groaned as the growing need between his legs throbbed. Even though the day had been long for him and even longer for you, the room sweltered with lecherous and passionate energy. With your hand still in his hair, you leveraged the headboard to straddle his hips and crash your mouth into his, lapping up the stickiness that covered the lower half of his face; he'd always been a messy eater, why would this be any different?

He hissed as you slid against his length, neglected from focusing on you and your pleasure. But the way you scraped his chest, skipping the teasing in favor of wordlessly begging for more, as much as he could give. You had his love, wrapped up like red silk shibari with all of its tidy knots and careful weaving. You could have his body, too.

Growling in your ear, he groped the crease where your ass met your thighs and decided a riposte was due, flipping your positions. You landed with a squeak as your head hit his pillow, but quickly recovered to wrap your arms around his back. He just needed-

Fuck, where is it?! Leaning up on his hands, Katsuki glanced around the bed looking for the konbini bag while you scraped along his skin, whining and trying to pull him back down. With reluctance, he untangled his legs from yours and almost dove over the side of the bed before spotting the bag and his helmet. Goddamn cat must’ve tried to score a late night snack without him noticing.

In one swift motion, he snatched the box of condoms out of the bag and tore it open with his teeth. The box and condoms scattered onto the floor as he destroyed the foil wrapping before finally getting the condom on. And despite putting up the bottle of lube barely an hour ago, he spaced out for a good two seconds trying to remember where the fuck he put it while you slid over and tugged on his arm, eyes pleading in the darkness to hurry the hell up, already!

When the neurons in his brain began firing properly, several things on his bedside table threatened to topple over when he yanked open the drawer to grab the bottle of lube. It dripped onto the floor and edge of the sheets before he tossed it somewhere unseen. He ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth as he lunged over you, slick hands pinning your wrists above your head.

Your chest heaved and mouth parted below him as he slotted between your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He felt your pulse throbbing under his palms, fingers grasping at warm air circulating around the closed room. You were so fucking beautiful and just… here. Not an obscene daydream. If you were, this would immediately go from the best to worst birthday in recent memory. The way your hips shifted urged him to come closer.

So, he did.

The way you bit your kiss-swollen lips begged for him to dip down and meet them with his own.

So, he did.

And you had to do nothing at all for his hands to slide up and intertwine his fingers with yours. This time, his love would not be silent.

The mattress had moved off-center from the frame and slats. The sheets had all bunched up at the end, cascading down into the floor. The heavy pants, raucous moans, and salacious slapping of sweaty skin had quieted. All that remained was Katsuki's breath in your ear, his chin tucked into your neck, and slowing heartbeat heavy against your back. Katsuki wrung you dry of every speck of energy you'd scraped together after barely sleeping for the past forty-or-so hours. All you wanted to do was pee and sleep for however long he let you.

Wriggling your arm free from under his muscle-heavy weight, you gave his backside a light tap to try and get him up. When he didn't move, you wondered if he'd fallen asleep without even pulling out. But eventually, he peeled himself from your back with a raspy grunt. Cool air sent goosebumps along your exposed skin that sounded like Velcro when he pushed himself up from the mix of dried sweat, lube, and saliva covering both of you. Hissing when he pulled completely out, you clenched at the emptiness right as Katsuki flopped next to you, arms outstretched and limp. Knowing you'd fall asleep if you didn't move, you forced yourself up on shaky arms and moved to balance yourself, but Katsuki shot out a hand to grab your arm and pull you back down so he could kiss you without even bothering to open his eyes. Like he knew exactly where you'd be. Like he'd always know.

When he heard the bathroom door close, Katsuki sat up with bleary vision and wiped at his face. Fuck, what are wild birthday… he glanced at the clock nearby, squinting to read 12:37 glowing in the dark. He nearly slipped when standing up from the spilled lube and wrapped condoms spread all over the floor. "Fuckin'..." Too tired to bother cleaning it up right then, he grabbed a towel from the hamper and tossed it over the mess before opening the bedroom door with a yawn and promptly stubbing his toe on the bag you left sitting right in the middle of the hallway. "Shit!," he cursed, sucking in a breath through his teeth before kicking the suitcase into the bedroom, letting it roll to a stop as he stumbled down the hallway to clean up.

Far too exhausted to do any of your normal bedtime tasks, you dragged your feet across the floor before turning out the bathroom light. You wouldn't die from not brushing your teeth or washing your face for one night. Was it terrible to sleep in makeup? Yes, but whatever. Sleep came first.

You fell into bed and grabbed the crooked sheets, pulling them up to your chin while burying your face in the single pillow that remained on the bed. Already feeling yourself drifting off, you felt the bed dip before a warm arm snaked around your middle. You buried your face in Katsuki's scarred chest and draped your own arm over his waist. Waiting six months just for the opportunity to fall asleep with him again. To smother in his scent of burning caramel and musky wood. To whisper into his skin. Yeah. Yeah, it was worth it.

What was the… ah, right. "Dai suki da yo, Kat," you mumbled with your last bit of drained energy. With his heart pressed against your cheek, you kissed his skin stained with dried, salty sweat. Katsuki’s legs languidly tangled with yours while he buried his chin in the crown of your hair.

“Mh. Dai suki da yo…” Quiet. Sleepy. But still, you heard it. You wished you could hear it every day. Every night. Forever.

___________

ummmm here u go byeeee plz kudos and comment and share with ur friends and tell me how the wait was worth it so i can cry a lil :')))) please follow my tumblr https://thetrashywritingwitch.tumblr.com bc i live on tumblr, it's my main website. come talk to me, send me asks, and keep up to date with what i'm doing do yall dont think i'm dead :))))) ALSO since this has become an issue int he past year: DO NOT EVER USE MY WORK IN AI OR TEXT GENERATORS!! I don't consent to anyone "finishing" or "continuing" my fics through AI in any form!!!! AND DO NOT use my work in any youtube/asmr/tiktok videos without my written consent!!! you can mention me and link back to my work and post about how much you 💖 my fics hehhe BUT you cannot do voice overs of my fics or anything like that, esp not for ad revenue or profit!!! ok fr byeeeeeee (no the fic isn't over or done we still have like six or so more chapters until the end 🥰)

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