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Katsuki can’t even remember what it was they were arguing about. It was something stupid and unimportant, that much he does know. And sure they resolved it, kinda, not really (there’s still tomorrow and they’re both too tired anyway), but he’s still annoyed with Shouto. So what if he doesn’t know exactly what for? That doesn’t matter.
Shouto was being a little shit and so the stupid pillow in between them on the bed is all he fuckin’ gets for the night.
That’s right, Katsuki’s giving him the silent treatment and the no cuddles treatment. After the argument, Shouto refused to share his damn ice cream and made him watch the shittiest reality show on TV earlier just to be petty, the one he knows pisses Katsuki the fuck off, so he’s only returning the favor.
Katsuki adjusts his position on the bed, his right arm starting to ache and go numb from lying on it but there’s no good way to shift to ease the pressure while still making sure he’s completely facing away from Shouto. He decides he’d rather be uncomfortable than giving in and turning on his back.
Because if he does, he loses. ‘Coz they both know that even a glimpse of Shouto pouting in his periphery will have his resolve melting and he can’t have that.
Katsuki closes his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep, intentionally ignoring the way his own chest aches from this petty shit and the way Shouto’s breaths behind him don’t deepen or slow down, which means he can’t sleep either.
Fuck, is this even worth it if neither of them can sleep and they both fuck up at work tomorrow?
He’s ready to swallow his shitty pride and just roll over so that he can pull his boyfriend into his arms where he belongs when the Barrier Pillow is shifted aside, cold air suddenly replacing its warmth on Katsuki’s low back.
He shivers and pulls the sheets up further, a swear on the tip of his tongue when the mattress dips behind him and an arm slips over his waist.
“Katsuki,” Shouto whispers, his breath tickling the back of his neck.
Katsuki’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out an involuntary sigh which he tries to play off as a cough.
“What d’you want?” he hisses, the last thread of his ego trying to cling onto the facade because he can still be a bastard too, even if he is in love or whatever.
Shouto doesn’t answer, just presses his front closer to Katsuki’s back, wrapping his arm tighter. He feels a set of warm lips against the back of his head and, fuck it, yeah he can’t do this anymore.
Katsuki lifts Shouto arm off his waist briefly just enough to quickly turn all the way over until they’re face to face. Shouto’s arm immediately settles around him again.
Katsuki furrows his brows at the pout he knew would be there to greet him, nudging his nose against Shouto’s to see if he can make him stop. It works a little.
“You suck,” Katsuki murmurs, trying his best not to get mesmerized by the dopey mismatched eyes staring into his damn soul.
Shouto just hums, a corner of his lips curling up in a small smile, “I can if you want me to.”
Well, that’s a nice little punch to the goddamn chest.
“Oi, get your mind outta the fucking gutter for once, dumbass,” he berates, face flushing as if they’ve never done that shit before. The chokehold the bastard has on him.
“It’s not in the gutter,” Shouto says, “My mind’s on you. And I don’t like when you’re mad at me, so stop it.”
Katsuki sighs, feeling like a total jackass even though his boyfriend was the one that started the goddamn petty party. But that’s beside the point here. They’re not sixteen anymore, for fuck’s sake.
“I don’t like it either,” he says, “and I don’t need you to do shit for me to stop being mad, let’s get that straight first, that’s gross.”
Shouto smiles and leans close to press their mouths together. Katsuki’s heart sprints a lap around his ribcage.
“Yes, I know that,” Shouto says, “I just like to.”
Katsuki huffs a laugh, tilting his head to the side when Shouto kisses him under his jaw, the side of his neck, and then his lips once more. Katsuki makes sure this one lingers much longer than the last.
“Sorry for being an ass,” he murmurs against Shouto’s mouth.
“And I’m sorry for making you watch rich people do nothing for a whole hour,” the bastard says back and that makes them both laugh, the air between them light and easy again.
“Fuckin’ love you,” Katsuki says, the weight of his eyelids suddenly heavier than he remembers, especially when Shouto brushes his bangs up and presses a final kiss to his forehead. God, what a sap (he’s not really sure who he’s even referring to at this point).
“I love you too, Kat.”
And then Shouto is turning back over, their bed shaking and headboard lightly thumping the wall as his large frame shifts so that his back is now facing Katsuki.
Oh. So that’s it huh.
Katsuki hates that his heart sinks in his chest a little at Shouto turning away from him. So he just needed to make sure Katsuki wasn’t mad, and that’s all he needed. And now he’s shifting back away for some space from him. They did fight after all, so even if he’s no longer annoyed at Shouto, maybe Shouto’s still annoyed at him. He sure wouldn’t blame him, he knows he can be an asshole.
But he just said he loved him, and yeah that shit’s not mutually exclusive but still, it seemed like they were fine again so then why is he turning away–?
“Kat?”
Shouto’s soft, low voice shakes him out of his stupid spiral.
He looks up to meet Shouto’s concerned gaze peeking back over his shoulder, “Hm?”
“Are you–are you okay?” Shouto asks, tone a bit hesitant. “Are you still upset then?” his voice gets quieter.
Katsuki furrows his brow, “Hah? No I’m not, idiot, I thought we just established that we’re fine. You’re the one that turned the fuck around immediately.” The words come out more bitter than intended.
Shouto just continues to look back over his shoulder, confused, not bothering to turn around again even though Katsuki just pointed it out. It makes his damn chest ache.
“Um, yes,” Shouto says slowly, “I did. Because I thought you would come close. I-I thought we were going to cuddle? But you didn’t wrap your arm around me like usual, so I thought you’re still upset.
Oh. Right. Right.
What the fuck, Kastuki, you absolute bone head. Of course, his boyfriend just wanted to fucking spoon, and he had to go get all insecure and stupid about that, fuck.
Katsuki just huffs at himself, relieved and kinda embarrassed that he over-thought this little thing.
He instantly scoots in close, wrapping his arm around Shouto’s torso and pressing his palm to his stomach, snaking the other under his own pillow, and kissing Shouto’s shoulder in apology.
“Sorry, I just thought it was something else,” he mutters, and he feels Shouto let out a content hum too. “Yeah we’re fucking cuddling, now tuck your knees forward a bit you goddamn noodle.”
Shouto chuckles and does as he’s told, and Katsuki curls himself around his frame and closes his eyes. This is the fuckin’ stuff, this right here.
It is. It is. But also…
Katsuki lies still and cocooned around his boyfriend as he ignores the ridiculous thought and holds Shouto the way he should be held, the way he fuckin’ deserves to be. Turned into a whole ass burrito between Katsuki and their blankets because that’s how he should be allowed to exist, smothered and buried in all the love and physical affection he never got to experience as a kid.
And Katsuki swore to himself that he would give this to Shouto because he loves him so damn much.
But he also wants–fuck, it’s so embarassing to ask now but he just got a taste of it earlier and he fuckin’ liked it more than he wants to admit but ugh–
Shouto sighs long and hard, the movement of his ribcage jostling Katsuki’s own chest before he shifts Katsuki’s arm away and turns back around again to face him.
“What’re you–?”
“Turn over,” Shouto practically commands him. It makes him blush for whatever reason.
“The fuck for? I thought we’re cuddling or some shit, you just said so.”
Shouto nods, “We are,” he says, nudging Katsuki’s shoulder down and Katsuki goes along with whatever idea the bastard has come up with. He falls onto his back and is fully expecting Shouto to settle his head onto his shoulder or maybe his chest, but his boyfriend just sticks his hand under his other shoulder and has him roll over some more.
What the fuck is he doing? Does he want Katsuki facing the wall again or some shit? Did he change his mind and decide he really is annoyed with him, doesn’t want him close, doesn’t wanna see his stupid face until the sun’s back up. Is he–
Oh.
The warm arm he got a taste of just a few minutes prior winds around him again, a warm hand gently scratching at his chest over his T-shirt, then settling flat against it as Shouto leaves a soft kiss to the back of his neck. It’s all so damn warm but it makes him shiver.
Katsuki instinctively pulls his knees forward and shifts his hips back a bit and Shouto wastes no time slotting himself perfectly against him. He allows a foot to wiggle in between his ankles and then Shouto is all around him, his long ass body enveloping him in a way Katsuki can’t quite manage when he’s spooning the tall bastard.
But fuck, this is nice. This shit is so fucking good, and they’ve been together for a few months now and they’ve never done this before? Why?
“You just had to ask, you know,” Shouto mumbles against his skin, his breath so warm. Everything is so damn warm it’s perfect. Shouto’s perfect.
“Shut up,” is what he manages to grumble back, sheepish as hell but real fucking glad that this is happening right now.
“You make a good little spoon,” Shouto says.
“I said shut up, dumbass. Don’t ruin the moment.”
“Mm, definitely would not want to do that,” the arm around him squeezes tighter, and another kiss is pressed to his hair.
It doesn’t take long after that for sleep to finally pull him under.