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Katsuki drummed his fingers against the diner table incessantly, leg bouncing up and down.
He checked his phone once, twice, three times, and looked out the window.
Shouto was late.
When they went out, they usually met up in the school parking lot. Refusing to spend a cent of his parents' money, Katsuki had saved up enough to buy a second-hand (or third-hand, or fourth-hand, or—) motorbike. They were in their senior year, finally old enough to drive, and vote, and not just beat villains up, and Katsuki had been the first in their class to get his license and his motorcycle license. Take that, Kirishima.
Of course, Shouto had no interest in learning to drive. If there happened to be a place she wanted to be besides her room, Katsuki's room, or the gym, Katsuki could just drive her there, right?
"You can't procrastinate on getting your fucking driver's license just because I have one," Katsuki scoffed, flicking her forehead lightly.
Shouto made a little face, lifting a hand to the spot. "But I don't care about driving anywhere that's not with you..."
And that was the end of that argument.
Because they were a thing now. Katsuki and Shouto. Shouto and Katsuki.
It started with a promise to team up once they became pro-heroes. It started with her calling him her best-friend, and Katsuki not denying it, because he'd be anything she wanted. It started with a kiss after sneaking out with the rest of Class 1A to go clubbing. It started with them stumbling back to her room with hasty confessions before they were scrambling at each other's clothes, because how could they have waited this long. It started with him fucking her into her mattress while she whispered that she was in love with him and he cried, and waking up the next morning in her arms for round two.
After Katsuki got his bike, they'd started going out everyday after class. Shouto would chatter excitedly about the plot twist in the manga Sero lent her that week the whole walk to the parking lot, because she wasn't quiet like everyone else thought, and Katsuki would hum affirmatively in the appropriate places, all of his attention zeroed in on her right hand in his, fingers slotted together as she swung their hands back and forth. Shouto was the only person in his life he'd ever been able to hold hands with comfortably. And not just because her quirk cooled down the sweat that otherwise pooled in his palm.
Then he would start his bike, engine revving to life while she bounced on her toes impatiently until she could climb on behind him, wrapping warm and cool arms around his torso, their helmets knocking together.
"Where we headed, princess?"
"Usual spot, please."
Shouto loved riding the bike. So did Katsuki, especially when she was behind him holding him tight. So when she'd told him during lunch that she'd be late that day, he said he could just wait for her.
"No," she insisted. "You go first. I'll meet you there."
He blinked up at her, eyeing Mina standing behind her with an innocent smile. "Ok, I guess."
Now it was ten minutes past three, and as he glanced out the window he was sitting next to, having successfully nabbed Shouto's favorite booth, he perked up as Momo's sleek Lexus pulled up to the curb.
She had the windows rolled down, and Katsuki could see her saying something animatedly to Shouto sitting shot-gun.
They locked eyes. Momo's smile widened and she pointed. Shouto turned, spotted him, and quickly turned back around.
Katsuki frowned. Ok. Whatever.
The door opened, and she stepped out.
She might have waved bye to Momo, and Momo might have given her a thumbs up before driving off, but it was lost on Katsuki.
Pastel yellow fabric so unlike her usual muted t-shirts hugged her chest, cinching at the waist and reaching half-way down her thighs. The dress flowed in the summer breeze along with her hair, down out of the bun she kept it in and spilling over her shoulders, swaying slightly as she walked.
Katsuki had never seen Shouto wear a dress. Hadn't even pictured it before (besides maybe a wedding dress). The uniform skirts were one thing, but—
The door jingled when she walked in, and the diner's owner, an older woman who absolutely adored Shouto (all the aunties did), stopped where she was wiping the counter to look up at Shouto with a big smile.
"Oh honey, you look beautiful!" She chirped, bending down to retrieve a tray of sweets. "Here; on the house!"
Shouto's eyes widened at the cakes, looking between them and the woman while Katsuki watched from his corner. "Really?"
"Of course!" She pushed the tray across the counter to Shouto. "For the pretty lady!"
A flush rode high on Shouto's cheeks as she carefully took the tray. "Thank you."
The woman nodded at Katsuki. "Go ahead. Your boy toy is waiting."
Boy toy?!
He didn’t have time to get pissed because Shouto was already walking over in all her glory, her eyes stubbornly trained on the tray.
“Hey baby,” he said a little breathlessly as he stood, pushing the tray down onto the table and snagging her closer by the waist, his fingers sliding against soft yellow fabric. The warmth of her left side sent tingles up his spine and he grinned. "You look fucking hot."
As he leaned in to give her her kiss hello, she finally met his eyes. "I don't know," she murmured before he could close the gap. "Do you like it?"
God she’s so fucking dense— "Of course I fucking like it."
She smacked his hand away where it wandered too low. "I guess you do," she mumbled, finally looking up to level him with a glare not meant to sting.
His grin widened and he tucked a strand of white behind her ear, letting his fingers run down the length of her hair. "You're real fucking pretty, y'know."
She rolled her eyes, but the flush on her cheeks gave her away. "Stop."
"Don't tell me what to do," he murmured, pressing closer greedily until she tilted her chin up. She was tall, but Katsuki hit a growth spurt their junior year. Something about the way she was looking up at him all doe-eyed in that dress had him staring a beat too long, because she pouted and closed the gap between them herself.
When he'd first realized that yeah, apparently he liked girls too, he'd decided it was better to admire her from afar. Better to indulge in fantasy than ruin the altar he'd placed her on with his own clumsy incompetence.
God he'd been an idiot. Because his dreams never compared to the real thing, even as he kept dreaming and she kept giving. Her lips were softer than he'd ever imagined, and even after all the kisses they'd shared, she still took his breath away.
She pulled away with a knowing little smile when he started pressing against her a little too hungrily, and he scoffed, skimming his hand down her side one last time before she stepped back.
Slipping into the seat across from him, she pulled the milkshake he'd ordered towards her with a happy little noise, and when she brought her arms together to sip on the shake, Katsuki immediately hated himself for the way his eyes accidentally, accidentally, flicked down to her chest. He watched her finish and reach over to steal his fries, even with an array of sweets in front of her. "Momo said I should try dressing up for dates," she explained.
"You just do whatever Momo says?" Katsuki said, pushing his tray towards her.
"She thought you might like it."
Momo was always right. But—"Do you like it?"
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "It's not very practical for fighting. But I do like it. I got an orange one too."
He couldn't stop smiling. He couldnt believe he had her. "You did, huh? Why orange?"
"Because you have an orange tie, and you like orange."
"Know what I like more?"
She suddenly pointed her fork at him accusingly. "Why are you being so cheesy?"
He blinked back. "I'm not being cheesy."
"Yes you are."
"I'm not!"
She huffed, picking a cherry off the milkshake. "You're weird."
"You're weird..." He tried putting some bite behind it, but ended up trailing off as she popped the cherry into her mouth.
"We're both weird." She decided before pointing at his burger. "Can I have some?"
"Don't talk with food in your mouth," he grumbled, pushing the tray closer towards her.
"Hey."
She glanced up. "Hm?"
"Let's get married."
She rolled her eyes. "You said that last week."
"You didn't say no."
A glimmer reached her eyes as she looked back at him. "Will you get me a fancy ring?"
He knew she didn't give a shit about rings, but he reached across the table to take her hand and said anyways, "I'll get you whatever you want."
She glanced down at their hands, smile growing. "Hm…but you're kind of broke now. I'll buy the rings."
If anyone else had said that to him, he would have been pissed. "Yeah?" He murmured instead.
"Yeah." She looked up. "Super heat resistant ones."
He ran his thumb back and forth across the top of her hand. "How am I supposed to propose if you have the rings?"
"Oh. Well, I can propose."
He scoffed. "Like I'd let you beat me to it."
She hummed, pushing the milkshake aside to prop her chin up in her hand, eyes wandering to the window. "Mm. But I don't think I want to get married yet. We should do it when we have our own place. And a cat." She thought about that. "A few cats." She looked back at him. "You know, it makes me happy that you want to too. I really love you a lot."
He looked away with a scowl, butterflies in his stomach. He was still reduced to a spluttering mess by a few words, even after all this time. Even after learning her buttons, learning which ones to press to get her squirming in his lap, learning where the spot on her neck that made her shudder was, learning that she gasped when he crooked his fingers just right, that she squeezed her eyes shut when he sank into her. And yet—
"Shut the fuck up."
She blinked. "You don't like cats?"
He sighed dramatically as she let go of his hand to pick another cherry off the milkshake. "Whatever."
"Would you help me pick a dress?"
"Idiot. The guy isn't supposed to see the dress until the wedding."
"Then how will I know you'll like it?"
He leaned the rest of the way across the booth and kissed her. The sugary cherry taste lingering on her tongue mixing with whatever artificial strawberry flavor was in her lip gloss, spelling out her name on his tongue. And Katsuki used to think he didn't like sweets.
"I'd like you in anything," he rasped against her lips. "You could show up in your pajamas if you wanted."
She laughed quietly, bumping their foreheads together. "That would be fun. A pajama party wedding."
He couldn't believe she was actually humoring this wedding talk, and as he looked into her eyes, he could only respond dumbly, "Yeah."
She ran her thumb across the corner of his mouth to wipe away the gloss and gave him another peck before leaning back in the booth. Swiping a finger through the tower of whipped cream on the milkshake, she stuck her tongue out and gave it a kitten lick before sucking it in her mouth, cheeks hollowing.
Katsuki would all of a sudden much rather be in private. He thought of that yellow dress on his bedroom floor, and—
He stood up hurriedly. "Let's take these to go."
"You're so predictable." But she was sliding out of the booth after him with a smile, always on the same page.
He took her hand with a grin. "Shut the fuck up."