Chapter Three
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Nerves lived in his veins, it seemed. Burrowed in. Made the walls their homes, skipped their way through with the flow of his blood. He was Kaminari's best man, and although they'd done the rehearsal several times prior, he felt his stomach churn with the simple thought of messing up.
This was the real deal, after all. This wasn't rehearsal where his fuck ups wouldn't mean anything. It was the actual wedding. And it's not as if his part was all that complicated. He, Katsuki, and Sero were to walk down the aisle and stand at the altar saying nothing. Simple enough, truly.
And they'd already done that. The hard part, the walking was over. They were already up at the altar, standing behind and slightly to the side of Kaminari.
But it was the most important day of his friend's life, and what if he looked odd, standing up there?
Then, a memory. The day Kaminari proposed to Jiro. Where had they been? A cafe, he remembered vaguely. A small cafe tucked away on the corner of one of the busiest streets in the entire city. Everyone had been chatting around a table near one of the larger windows in the place, and by that point, Kaminari and Jiro had been together for so long. Ten years? Longer perhaps. The chatting died as Jiro finished her drink, as she stopped breathing and read the little note pasted to the bottom of the cup, the same tactic that led her to being Kaminari's.
No one had seen it coming. The proposal. Kaminari had kept quiet about it for months, he later said when Kirishima was congratulating him.
Kaminari kept leaning back, turning his head back to whisper his own nervousness to Kirishima. He tried to make jokes in light of his anxieties, and tried to calm his head.
"What if I fuck up my vows, man?" he whispered, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Do I look ridiculous? I feel ridiculous."
Kirishima smiled at his friend, pushed his shoulder with his hand, shook his head. "No, dude. You don't look ridiculous." Kaminari looked the opposite, actually. His suit, stark black and neatly pressed, was accented by a yellow tie and the boutonniere was draped in a shade as deep as plums. His hair, still dyed yellow with his signature lighting bolt, was slicked back.
"And you won't mess up your vows," he continued, "We went over them, remember? You, Katsuki, and me. You did so well."
Kaminari looked like he was about to burst. His smile was unsteady, unsure. "You sure?"
"Absolutely."
Katsuki nudged Kirishima in the side with a little too much force. "Shut the fuck up," he spat.
"Bro, I can't. I'm a nervous talker."
Through blurred eyes, he saw the way Katsuki narrowed his eyes in a warning sort of manner and that was more than enough to shut him up. "You're going to make him even more nervous."
The brides maids began making their way down the isle. Women Kirishima hadn't ever met before, some he'd seen briefly but had never gotten to know, and Mina. His Mina dressed in a beautiful dress clinging to the shape of her curves, the deep purples accented by lighter purples and bits of white brought out the hues of her skin in a way Kirishima was glad he was able to witness. And last, the maid of honour, was Momo. Tall and lanky, dark hair tied up in a beautiful pony tail tied in place with flower hair tie.
Across the way, Kirishima noticed the way Mina's face briefly twisted up into something representing pain. She would never say it out loud, but Mina was hurt when she found out Jiro had asked Momo to be her maid of honour instead of her. They'd been best friends since before she could remember, and assumed she would be standing behind Jiro the same way Jiro had stood behind her at her own wedding. As quickly as the look appeared, it disappeared, and she smiled, doing her best to not let her face falter.
Jiro looked lovely. Her dress dark against her skin, black because she refused to wear anything else, tapered off at her knees in the front and flower behind her, stopping at her ankles. No heals, hardly any makeup, no veil hiding her face. She threw tradition out the window and said, "To hell with it."
The ceremony was a blur. Kirishima remembered crying tears so large he couldn't see through them.
And before he knew it, they were sitting at their respective tables, Kaminari and Jiro in the middle of the room standing next to a towering cake nearly five tires high decorated in blacks, yellows, and purples. Kaminari was say words through tears, again, and Jiro didn't bother to speak to the crowd. Toasts were made from various people around the room and the cake was cut.
Kaminari smeared some on her cheek just so he could lick if off in front of everyone, and in retaliation, she grabbed a fist full of smushed cake and rubbed it across the length of his face. From forehead to chin. Cheek to cheek. And he turned, smiled, used his hands to wipe off the cake from his face and crossed the room to where Katsuki and Kirishima sat.
Oh.
Oh no. Before anything could be done, Katsuki had the cake that had once been on Kaminari's face rubbed in his hair and on the shoulders of his very expensive suit. Kirishima expected Katsuki to run up and dunk Kaminari's face into the lower tires of the cake, but when he heard a giggle escape Kirishima, he was smearing handfuls of food taken from his plate into his boyfriend's face.
Laughter erupted the room, and around them a full blown food fight broke out. Cake and mashed potatoes and vegetables were being thrown out the room, glasses of water being tossed onto heads. In the end, no one actually got to the taste the cake that costed an arm and a leg to have made. Only half of the bottom layer stood, but no one wanted to even try it because of the hands that had been desperately grabbing at it, looking for something to throw.
When everyone relaxed and the food flying over head finally stopped, Kaminari and Jiro had their first dance covered in unidentifiable foods. And it was beautiful in a way no one could explain.
Katsuki glanced at Kirishima, sitting happily on his chair, letting Riot lick off whatever he could find on his skin. His was vibrant and he could see and he was right there, in front of Katsuki, and suddenly he felt the weight in his pocket. A small box containing a ring he had been lugging around with him everywhere he went for over a month. No moment felt perfect enough, and every second he thought about it felt too soon. It hadn't been that long since they found each other after being apart for ten years, but he knew what he wanted. Katsuki was self assured in his desire to marry Kirishima. Yet, everytime he remembered the velvet box, he turned away from it like a coward.
He looked at Kirishima and wanted nothing more than for him to be his in every sense of the word.
Why did he have to be such a coward?
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That night, after everyone drank and stuffed themselves full of whatever food they could find, people began to depart. Leaving their gifts and goodbyes, the venue was slowly emptied. Kirishima and Katsuki were one of the last to leave, stumbling towards the hotel their suite had been in.
Giggling and scolding, they moved down the hallway and hurried to rid their feet of their fancy shoes, and finally collapsed onto the king sized bed sat in the middle of the sweet. Their breaths heavy, Kirishima smiled at Katsuki with his face smashed against the soft mattress.
"What do you think they're doing right now?" Kirishima asked. "Kami and Jiro?"
Katsuki, laying on his back, scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What do you think they're doing? They just got married for fucks sake. What a dumb question."
Kirishima laughed and rolled onto his back, side by side with Katsuki. "You're right."
He turned away, just long enough to hang his hand off the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Riot's fur. When he turned back, Katsuki was sitting up and staring at him. "Katsuki?" He was sitting up now, too. "Katsuki?"
He watched as Katsuki dug around in the pockets of hit suit pants, sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. "I've never known how to do this. Really, I've had grand ideas planned out, but we've never been grand now have we? I know this is sorta... I dunno man, fucking lame? But seeing you happy, that happy, god it did something to me, and maybe I'm not thinking straight but fuck Kirishima, I want to be with you. I know that. I've always known that. I love your fucking stupid smile and that shitty hair of yours and just... you. So I guess what I'm asking is..." he paused, pulled his hand out of his pocket and presented Kirishima with the silver ring inside.
Kirishima froze. Everything. The rise and fall of his chest. His heart. His eyes stayed open, drying out. His jaw slightly ajar. His thoughts tripped over his brain, crashed into one another, and he was trying to say yes, but the sound came out choked and all he could muster was a nod.
And Katsuki was tackling him, grabbing his face between his hands, connecting their lips like he was desperate and Kirishima was crying, tasting the tears as they landed on his lips Katsuki's hands were on his body, exploring the area of his back, knocking the wind out of Kirishima's lungs with each new touch.
Their suits were stripped, tossed somewhere in the room, and it was moments like those when Kirishima felt exposed. Embarrassed and would go to cover himself with his hands or a sheet or the nearest pillow. Katsuki would grab his hands, look Kirishima dead in the eye and say things he would never say otherwise. Telling Kirishima there's nothing to hide, to let him take in the sight of him, and it always baffled him, the way Katsuki could say things like that. The way he found the courage to mouth his thoughts so easily.
Katsuki lowered him back carefully, rest his against one of the feather pillows, and worked his way down his neck his chest the open expanse of his stomach, down each thigh and up again like he was looking for places he hadn't ever explored. Places kissing, leaving deep bruises, whispering things Kirishima couldn't quite understand no matter how hard he tried, and then Katsuki's head
d i p p e d between his legs, and instantly his hands flew to his shoulders, holding them, sinking his nails into the skin and leaving marks he would later apologize for. He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't open his lungs to open up wide enough to take in the air he needed. He was light headed, eyes roaming the ceiling when Katsuki appeared over him, flushed red and hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.
He was kissing him again, like Kirishima was oxygen and he was dying to breathe. His hands roamed, pulled him closer.
A hand was between his legs, working, and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard he was sure he could taste blood. And then Katsuki was gone for a fraction of a second, parting Kirishima's legs farther with something that most certainly wasn't his hand before hovering over Kirishima against. Their chest's一their hearts一so close as a gasp escapes his lips, his arms flying to wrap around Katsuki's neck.
Planets were exploding behind his eyes while stars were dancing above his head and raining down on him,
The next kiss was the kind of kiss that inspired planets to form high in the skies and intrigue everyone. The kind that felt like years and seconds all at once. Nothing would ever compare to that moment. Nothing could ever dream of it. Nothing else mattered but that moment, Katsuki's lips on the entirety of Kirishima's face, his arms keeping him close, their skin pressed so close.
Kirishima held onto Katsuki, dying and somehow being brought back to life over and over again within the same second, the same breath.
Nothing would ever compare.
.
.
.
Kirishima was still asleep. The sun was trying to poke it's head over the horizon.
Katsuki had been up for three hours, watching the steady rise and fall of Kirishima's chest, the way his eyes danced beneath his sleeping lids, the jolts he did when dreaming. His hair was scattered about the pillow, wild strands of red spreading out. His features were relaxed, soft, at peace, and Katsuki felt himself become baffled at his reality:
He was with Kirishima again. They were secure. Nothing to tear them apart again. Nothing to keep them apart. Luck, or fate perhaps, had been on their side since the beginning. Katsuki wasn't the type to believe in fate, but it was the only thing that made sense to him. Fate was responsible for them.
Fate.
When he stood up for the first time that morning and stretched his arms above his head, scanning the room covered in their different articles of clothing, he saw a piece of paper by the leg of a chair. Neatly folded into impossibly small squares, he began to slowly unfold it. Square after square until there was a something the size of a small notebook in his hand. No words dotted the page. No, instead there were actual dots. Braille.
A loud thump from his heart when he realized what it was.
The note he had written for Kirishima before he had to leave. Ten years ago. He kept it after all that time.
He glanced at Kirishima's sleeping body, pressed the paper close to his chest, and let a single tears streak down his face.
After all that time...
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Word Count: 2377
March 22, 2021
i know its been a while since i last updated this. i suck lol. a lot has happened since i put the last chapter up, but most notably is that i had my second knee surgery (one on each knee basically) and have been recovering. ive also been spending a lot of time writing for the haikyuu fandom. tbh, i dont see myself writing any new fics for MHA because some parts of the fandom bother to my core.
i am stilling writing, though. i plan on publishing all my haikyuu works on Ao3 (same username) so if you're interested in kuroken, bokuaka, and sakuatsu, maybe stalk my Ao3? I already have the first 4 chapters of my kuroken fic published there, tilted Even Stars Die. the first two are here on wattpad as well, but i think imma focus on Ao3.
i'll do my best to finish this, but it may be slow. im sorry for that. thanks for reading<3
-StarsNeverLanding