Disclaimer:You three are having your usual lazy banter when the topic of having kids abruptly came into the conversation. Will your boyfriends be open to the idea or will they shut it off?
The scent of Katsuki’s spicy cologne and Eijirou’s familiar, clean soap scent filled the living room, a comforting aroma that spelled home more than any candle ever could. You were curled into Eijirou’s side, his heavy arm a warm weight across your shoulders, while Katsuki lounged opposite, his feet propped on the coffee table, arguing passionately about the merits of a new support gear company.
It was easy. It was perfect. Five years of building this life together had sanded down the rough edges, leaving a smooth, comfortable fit between the three of you.
The conversation meandered, as it often did, from gear to patrol anecdotes to future plans. Eijirou, ever the optimist, was painting a vivid picture of a vacation home by the sea someday. “...and we could have a huge deck, for, you know, barbecues and stuff. Room for everyone.”
“Tch, as if these two idiots would ever let me grill in peace,” Katsuki grumbled, but there was no heat in it. A fond smirk played on his lips.
“We’d be your loyal taste-testers, man!” Eijirou grinned, squeezing your shoulder. “Right, (Y/N)?”
“Absolutely. Though we might need to expand the deck,” you mused, playing along with the fantasy. “You know. For the kids to run around.”
The air in the room shifted, just slightly. It wasn’t a freeze, but a gentle settling, like the last piece of a puzzle hovering over its spot.
Eijirou’s smile softened into something wistful and incredibly tender. “Yeah… yeah, that would be pretty cool.”
Katsuki’s smirk vanished. He lowered his feet from the table, sitting up straight. His crimson eyes, sharp and analytical, flicked between your face and Eijirou’s. “Hold on. What kids?”
You blinked. “Hypothetical kids, Kats. Way down the line. After we’re married and everything’s settled.”
“Why the hell would we do that?” he asked, his voice flat, genuinely baffled. “We’ve worked our asses off to get where we are. You wanna just throw that away to play house?”
The bluntness was pure Bakugou, but it still stung a little. Eijirou was the first to counter, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not throwing anything away, bro. It’s… adding to it. Building a family. We’d be awesome dads! And (Y/N) would be the most amazing mom!”
You nodded, reaching for Katsuki’s hand. He let you take it, his fingers tense under yours. “I’m not saying right now. My agency is barely a year old, you’re both in the top twenty… it’s not the time. But someday? I’d want that. With you two.”
Katsuki pulled his hand back to run it through his spiky hair, frustration evident in the tight line of his shoulders. “Someday? That ‘someday’ is a trap. You think you can just pop out a brat and everything stays the same? Our rankings will tank. We’ll be stuck on daytime patrols and diaper duty while every extra out there climbs past us. All this… this…” He gestured around the room, at the home you’d built together, “…for what? A snot-nosed kid who’ll probably blow up his own diapers?”
“The ranking system is bullshit, Katsuki,” you said, your own voice gaining an edge. It was an old argument between you. “It’s a popularity contest fueled by media cycles. Since when do you care about what a bunch of pencil-pushers think about your worth?”
“Since it’s a measure of how effective I am!” he shot back, his voice rising. “It’s a number that proves I’m the best! Something we all earned with blood and sweat! And you’d just… sacrifice that.”
“It’s not a sacrifice, it’s a choice!” you insisted, leaning forward. “And by the time we’re even in our thirties, we’ll still be in our prime! We’re not gonna be decrepit. We can have a family and still be the most badass heroes out there. Look at Fat Gum! Look at fucking Miruko, for god’s sake!”
“We are not Miruko,” Katsuki growled, but the fire was banked, replaced by a confusion you rarely saw in him. He wasn’t just angry; he was trying to solve a problem he couldn’t logic his way through. “I just… I don’t get it. We have everything. Why is that not enough?”
The room fell silent. Eijirou looked at you, then at Katsuki, his red eyes full of a deep, understanding sadness. He wasn’t picking sides; he was trying to bridge the gap.
“(Y/N) isn’t saying what we have isn’t enough, Kat,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble. “It’s more than enough. It’s everything. She’s saying… our love is so big, she wants to see what it looks like in a little person with your scowl and her (E/C) eyes.” He offered a small, shaky smile. “I wanna see that, too. I think it’d be the coolest thing we ever did.”
Katsuki stared at him, then at you. The fight seemed to drain out of him, leaving behind a raw, vulnerable honesty. He wasn’t looking at a rival or a logistical problem anymore. He was looking at his partners, at the two people he had built his entire world around.
“I…,” he started, then stopped, scowling at the floor. “I don’t know if I’d be any good at it. The… the dad shit.” He almost whispered the last word, as if it were a foreign, dangerous concept.
Your heart cracked wide open. This wasn’t about rankings or sacrifice. This was Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who built his worth on being the strongest, terrified of failing at something that had no manual, no clear victory condition.
You slid off the couch and knelt on the floor in front of him, placing your hands on his knees. He wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Katsuki,”you said, your voice barely a whisper. “You are the most fiercely loyal, protective, and dedicated person I have ever known. You taught Eijirou how to perfect his right hook. You stay up late analyzing my patrol reports to make my routes safer. You remember how I like my coffee and that Eijirou is allergic to kiwi. That’s not just being a good hero or a good boyfriend. That’s… that’s dad stuff.”
He finally looked at you, his crimson eyes wide and searching.
Eijirou moved to kneel beside you, a solid, warm presence. “She’s right, man. You’d be strict, and you’d probably swear way too much in front of them, and you’d try to teach a toddler advanced combat tactics…” He chuckled, a wet, emotional sound. “And they’d adore you. They’d think their daddy was the strongest, coolest hero in the whole world. Because he is.”
Katsuki’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked between your earnest faces, his own a war of conflicting emotions. He saw the future you saw—not a loss, but a gain. Not a sacrifice, but an expansion of the kingdom the three of you had built together.
He let out a long, slow breath, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He reached out, one calloused hand cupping your cheek, the other ruffling Eijirou’s hair roughly, a classic Bakugou display of affection.
“Fuck,” he muttered, but it was resigned. Almost… warm. “You’re both a couple of sentimental idiots.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur meant only for you two. “...We’re not getting a fucking minivan.”
A wet laugh escaped you, and you saw Eijirou’s shoulders shake with relief and joy.
Eijirou beamed, wrapping his massive arms around both of you, pulling you into the safety of his embrace. “We’ll get a super manly SUV instead.”
Katsuki snorted, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed there, in the center of your shared world, which had just, quietly and without fanfare, gotten a little bit bigger. The conversation was far from over, but the fear had been named and faced. And for now, in the warm, familiar embrace of your living room, that was enough.
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