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Izuku is so screwed.
He’s already imagining it: Katsuki’s annoyance, and Shouto’s disappointment. It’s Valentine’s tomorrow, and they’ve got nothing to show for it.
He briefly thinks about whether he could pull the ‘reservation for three, top-ranked pro heroes card’, but that would be shameful, and would also probably just make Shouto sadder, and Katsuki angrier. No, this is his mistake and he’s gotta own up to it.
He sucks in a breath as he faces his laptop, clenching his fists as he tries to straighten his back whilst seated. He’s in between classes right now in the faculty office, but he’s not actually getting any work done. Numerous tabs on restaurants around Shizuoka are open on his browser, and he’s been calling them up one-by-one to no avail.
Izuku suddenly feels like he’s being watched.
“Aizawa-sensei!” He yelps, hitting alt-tab at lightning speeds like a teenager caught looking at something he shouldn’t. Don’t ask Izuku how he’s gotten so good at it. “Wh-wh-what do you need?” He tries to grin innocently, but his smile just ends up looking wobbly and defective.
“Aren’t you supposed to turn in a report by this afternoon?” Despite only have one working eye, he already caught what Izuku had to hide, and his voice makes it apparent that any further resistance would be futile.
“Ah, yes, it’s almost done! Sorry to keep you waiting…” he gives a nervous laugh, silently begging him to leave the conversation at that. Don’t make this more awkward than it is…!
“Good, ‘cause if you don’t hand it in on time, you’ll be grateful you still haven’t reserved anything for tomorrow.” Aizawa says with a smug tone, swirling on his office chair to face his own desk again.
Izuku sighs, and turns back to his own computer, pulling up the report file instead of the browser. Aizawa’s right, and he really is not going to have any qualms about keeping him locked up here until he submits what needs to be submitted.
How’s he going to break the news to his boyfriends?
“Kacchan,” Shouto’s voice calls out from one of the bedrooms. “Help me pick something.”
Shouto had insisted on calling him Kacchan when they started dating. He thought it was cute, and admitted that he envied Izuku whenever he used the nickname. Izuku himself didn’t mind sharing. In fact, sharing was what this whole thing was about.
Katsuki walks over to the room where Shouto keeps his things—a tatami room in their three-bedroom apartment that’s mostly used as a spare bedroom, but also Shouto’s closet.
“This?” Shouto holds up a navy blue suit, laying it over his torso to give the illusion of him wearing the outfit. “Or this?” He swaps it with a maroon one.
“The first one. Can’t have you be mistaken for a fire truck with all that red.” Katsuki easily answers. Red is more of Katsuki’s color, anyway. “Wait. What if it’s not even a formal dinner?”
“It’s not?” Shouto blinks. “I guess I did just assume…” He must be so used to fancy dinners out that special occasions like this simply translated into dressing up in his mind. Katsuki sighs and takes out his phone from his pocket. Nope, still no news from Izuku.
He asked him a while ago where the reservation would be, as he was assigned to it this time. They took turns making reservations for their dates, and it just so happened that Izuku’s turn fell on Valentine’s. They also had a rule about not calling during work hours unless it was an emergency, so Katsuki hadn’t called, but Izuku has strangely gone radio silent about it all.
“I swear to fucking god, if he actually forgot to make the reservation…” he grits his teeth with a mutter before pocketing the phone again. “He should have done it much earlier. Izuku’s so inexperienced, it hurts.”
“It’s not a big deal, we could just stay home,” Shouto tries to placate him, though he genuinely means it. He wouldn’t mind staying home for Valentine’s, bundle up and maybe watch a movie or two. If they could even keep their eyes and attention on the screen instead of each other.
Katsuki, however, feels a bit more stubborn about it. If Izuku couldn’t do it, he should have just said so earlier. Then he could have done it for him, and he could make up for it next time. But no, he just had to leave them hanging. Shouto nods sympathetically, though refuses to say more as he’s not here to pick sides.
“If it’s not a fancy place, then I can just lose the jacket.” Shouto thinks out loud, then turns to Katsuki with curiosity. “What are you wearing?”
“I can’t decide til I know where the fuck we’re even going,” he shakes his head.
“And this is why staying home would be much easier,” Shouto offers. “You wouldn’t have to think about what to wear. You could even spend Valentine’s naked.” Oh, how helpful. Saying those kinds of things with the straightest face makes Katsuki want to lose it, just a teensy bit.
They’re both startled by the front door opening, and Izuku announcing his presence. “I’m home!” He says.
“Izuku…!” Katsuki’s voice lowers to a menacing growl, already stomping out of the room to give Izuku a piece of his mind. Shouto puts the suits back in the cabinet before following Katsuki out of the room.
“Before you start yelling—!” Izuku holds up a hand in defense, his face pleading the two to go easy on him. “I know, I messed up, this one’s on me. I’m so sorry. I was so busy with work that it kept slipping my mind.” He stretches out his other arm to show them a classy, pastel pink box dotted with tiny hearts. It’s wrapped with a red, silk ribbon, forming a neat bow across the plastic panel where the box’s contents are visible.
“You think cake is enough to make up for it?” Katsuki gawks at Izuku like he just heard the world’s most moronic statement ever. “This better be the most delicious fucking cake I’ve ever tasted.” He doesn’t even follow up with a threat anymore, but he hopes the tone of his voice is enough to inspire some fear in Izuku.
Shouto shuffles forward and takes the cake from Izuku. He peers inside the box’s plastic window. “It’s chocolate.” There’s a hint of interest in his voice. Katsuki whips his head to glare at Shouto, betrayal etched all over his face.
“Are you seriously getting bought out with chocolate cake?” He is incredulous but he still does walk up next to Shouto to see this cake for himself.
“It’s not just any chocolate cake, though,” Shouto lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed with Izuku’s peace offering. “It’s from Aoyama and Satou’s shop.” He runs his finger across the gold labeling and admires the packaging.
Their two classmates started a business after graduating high school: a weird amalgamation of a cheesemongerer’s shop and a patisserie. Nonetheless, it was an instant hit—lines to the shop snaked around two blocks the day it opened, and Valentine’s reservations for both charcuterie boards and cakes were already filled up right after New Year.
Katsuki’s severe demeanor finally softens a bit, though he remains skeptical, peering at both Izuku and the cake with obvious suspicion. “How did you manage? They sold out so fast. You couldn’t possibly have gotten a slot at the last minute.”
“Aoyama called me earlier and asked if we had any plans for today, and… well, I told him about how I wasn’t able to make reservations, so he offered to get Satou to do this for us.” Izuku gives a small, self-deprecating laugh. He must have taken Katsuki’s decreasing hostility as a sign that he’s in the clear, because he starts removing his shoes and shrugs off his coat to hang behind the door.
“Doesn’t this just make it Aoyama and Satou’s Valentine’s gift, then?” Shouto asks. Katsuki snorts in agreement, loving this rare moment when Shouto ribs on Izuku instead of the two of them teaming up against him like they usually tend to do. “I should text them later to say thank you.”
“Hey, I picked the flavor, at least…! And I ran to their store to pick it up, too!” Izuku shoots back indignantly.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you had such a hard time choosing between chocolate and chocolate. Everyone knows most Valentine’s treats are chocolate-flavored.” Katsuki waves him off. He then tugs at Shouto’s shirt to lead the others to the dining table so they can finally free the cake from its boxy prison instead of standing in front of the entrance like buffoons.
“Wait,” Izuku places a hand atop Katsuki’s to stop him from unraveling the ribbon. “Are we going to eat this now? I think we should save it for dessert.”
“Well—Izuku—none of us thought we’d be staying home tonight,” he curtly reminds him, sarcastically stressing the pronunciation of his boyfriend’s name. “So there’s no dinner prepared yet. But I’m starving, so I say let’s dig in.”
“Correction, I called it.” Shouto pipes up and turns to Izuku with a knowing look. “I told Kacchan we could just stay home. I kind of knew this was going to happen.”
“You also said we could just spend Valentine’s naked,” Katsuki smirks. “The idea’s not half bad, coming from you.”
“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Shouto huffs. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m starting to get hungry, too.”
The exchange gets a laugh out of Izuku. He obliges Shouto and pulls the ribbon loose. They watch as the silk gracefully falls on both sides. Izuku gently lifts the lid, revealing the most delectable chocolate chiffon cake they’ve probably ever laid eyes on, topped with caramelized cashews and chocolate shavings. A heart-shaped piece of chocolate is wedged into the top right of the cake, framing it with the words ‘Je t’aime’ written in cursive.
That takes them out of the moment, and two pairs of eyes glance up to give Izuku puzzled looks. “Why the hell’s it in French?” Katsuki asks.
Izuku seems to be as baffled as they are and stammers, “O-oh. I suppose they took their liberties since it’s a last minute order…”
Shouto lets out an amused huff, though he quickly turns away to hide his face, if only to respect Izuku’s efforts. In an effort to play it cool, he quickly excuses himself by saying, “Let me get the plates,” before shuffling off to grab the cutlery.
Izuku and Katsuki take their seats across each other, and Shouto starts distributing the plates. He then begins to slice the cake, trying his best to cut them up as evenly as possible. The work is accomplished, albeit a bit sloppily, to Katsuki’s dismay. “Your slices look like they got run over. You’re going to make Satou cry like this.”
“Hey, it’s going to taste the same in the end.” Shouto gives a light smile and Katsuki huffs at his carefree behavior. He sits beside Izuku, and the three of them dig in.
“Mmm, this is sooo good!” Izuku swoons, his face reflecting absolute bliss. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had Satou’s cakes.” Katsuki swears he’s radiating some sort of flowery aura as Izuku turns into putty at the taste of chocolate.
“As expected from a top tier pastry chef,” Shouto gives an approving nod. “I think Fuyumi would love this flavor.”
“Don’t think about your sister when we’re celebrating Valentine’s, you creepy fuck!” Katsuki barks in mock anger, stifling back a laugh before he takes another forkful of cake. The chocolate melts in his mouth, and he realizes just what Izuku was on about. He can’t help but admit the cake is as luscious as it looks.
“Looks like Kacchan’s enjoying himself,” Izuku teases. Katsuki snaps out of his own thoughts, remembering to take control of his facial muscles to make sure they don’t betray his impressions of the cake. “It’s surprising. You don’t usually like sweet things, right?”
“Why’d you get us cake if you knew that then, dumbass?” He does give it a bit of thought, though. Izuku’s right—he’s not big on sweets, but somehow, this goes past simply being tolerable. He gives the cake a sniff and takes another bite, confirming his suspicions. “Now that you mention it, doesn’t it taste a bit… spicy to you?”
The two give him puzzled looks and take another bite, but their faces immediately light up when they recognize just what he means. “It’s spiked.” Shouto comments. This doesn’t seem to bother him all that much though, as he continues to eat.
Oh, great. Dessert and drinks before dinner. Katsuki groans. Everything’s out of order. Not that he’s some blazing romantic who insists things have to go a certain way to be considered perfect, but he wishes he was dined before he was wined.
He looks at Izuku whose cheeks are starting to flush red the more cake he consumes. Shouto’s engaging him in conversation—something about some report Aizawa’s pushing him to do—but Izuku’s mind is clearly somewhere else. “Hey, i-is the air conditioning broken or something? It’s getting kinda hot in here…” he laughs awkwardly as he loosens his necktie, revealing skin and the sheen of sweat underneath.
Shouto flushes at the sight of him, like they haven’t seen each other naked so many times already. “I don’t think so, but I can cool you down,” he says, holding his hand over Izuku’s chest to decrease the temperature around him by a bit.
“You’re just going through the cake too fast, you goddamn lightweight. There’s hardly anything in here, anyway.” Katsuki snatches the plate away from him, though it hardly means anything when there’s barely any cake left on it. “I’ll put this away, you guys move to the couch.”
Shouto nods and eats his last bite, letting Katsuki gather up the plates before helping Izuku hobble his way to the living room to lie down.
Once he’s finished putting the rest of the cake into the fridge, he returns to the pair. Izuku’s sweating has stopped, and lying down seems to have benefitted him, as he’s now sitting with Shouto with his top off.
Katsuki’s eyes trace the contour of his muscles, greedily counting all of his scars and freckles. Like a wolf eyeing its prey from afar, Izuku and Shouto perk up at his presence and beckon him to sit between them.
Katsuki huffs and stands over them instead, leaning over to trap Izuku in his seat by blocking his exit side with one arm. “Don’t think Valentine’s is over just like that, sweetheart. I still haven’t gotten back at you for failing to make reservations.”
Izuku gulps and turns to Shouto, eyes silently pleading for help, though Katsuki knows Izuku’s well aware what he means, and that the anticipation is turning him on. Katsuki rarely calls any of them pet names, but when he does, it’s more of a warning of what’s to come than mere affection. He would always cheekily defend himself from allegations of sarcasm, though—it’s all out of love, he’d say. Love and lust.
Shouto doesn’t return a shred of sympathy; Katsuki spies a mischievous glint in his eyes, and he’s secretly grateful for this kind of dynamic that lets him pick on Izuku two-to-one. He loves the way they torment Izuku, see him squirm under them, gasping their names and grabbing at them with clammy hands. His mind’s getting way ahead of him now, but every minute that passes just makes it harder and harder for him to contain his excitement.
Katsuki feels himself getting hard, and the two of them notice it all too well, having his groin by their eye level.
“So, can we finally get to spending Valentine’s naked?” Shouto playfully smirks. If Katsuki is a wolf who relishes in devouring its prey, then Shouto is a cat who likes to play with his food first in a show of dominance.
Hours later, the three lay in bed, with limbs sprawled out and light snoring filling the room. Shouto feels sore and sticky in places. He doesn’t even know how they made it all the way back here while their heads were clouded with pleasure. Obviously, even clean up has become an afterthought.
He gets the urge to use the bathroom, but his lovers are holding him down on either side. Izuku clings to his arm, and he could feel his breath tickling his skin. Much like how one wouldn’t dare move when a cat sleeps on their lap, Shouto finds himself rooted to the spot out of pity.
On the opposite end, Katsuki’s leg is pinning his own down, effectively dashing any hope of him leaving this bed. How can his leg be this heavy even when he’s asleep? Shouto laments. Katsuki is the one snoring—something he only does when he’s dead tired after a long night. Shouto gives a huff of satisfaction, proud of how he helped wear down such a proud hero like Dynamight.
After some debating on whether he should just let nature take its course on the bed as the two clearly won’t let him get up, he finally gathers the courage to get up through Izuku’s side. This helps him pry his leg from under Katsuki’s, and hopefully avoid the angry muttering he would receive from disturbing his valuable sleep. Izuku whines a bit at the disruption, while Shouto’s absence is quickly replaced with a pillow.
Shouto makes a quick trip to the bathroom and to the kitchen for a glass of water before going back to their bedroom. It’s four in the morning, and he figures he can sneak some more sleep in before any of them have to wake up. He sneaks back to his spot in the middle, thankfully without any incident. He presses a kiss to the crown of Izuku’s head, and another on Katsuki’s shoulder as a gentle smile graces his lips. Shouto slowly falls back to sleep while thinking about how well this year’s Valentine’s Day turned out, after all.