katsuki your homebody bf
katsuki isn’t surprised to find you in his apartment when he finally gets home, three hours later than you’d usually expect him. he barely greets you with a grunt when you smile at him from his couch.
he toes his shoes off by the door, throwing them in some corner to worry about tomorrow.
he hasn’t even done any actual hero work today. nothing physical at least. just page after page of boring, useless paperwork that somehow leaves him more tired than he’d be after fighting off a villain for hours.
as exhausted as he is, he wouldn’t dream of touching anything in his apartment until he’s showered. thirty minutes later he emerges from the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaping after him. he changes quickly before collapsing onto the couch and letting his head fall into your lap. he lets out a soft sigh as your hands find his still-damp hair.
“i won’t ask you about work,” you chuckle, already sensing that it’s nothing he wants to talk about.
“please don’t,” he mutters.
he stays like that for a while. just letting you scratch through his scalp with his eyes closed and his breathing growing more and more even.
“aren’t you gonna eat?” you whisper, looking down at him even though he can’t see you.
you made dinner for yourself a while ago and of course you’d saved a tupperware for katsuki in the microwave. for whenever he dragged himself home.
“had dinner at the agency. they had catering in the lounge to say ‘thank you’ or whatever.”
you hum in response, making a mental note to move those leftovers into the fridge.
“you know mina and some of the girls are going to that new bar downtown tonight. do you wanna get out there too, maybe relieve some stress?” you suggest.
only then does katuski crack one eye open and lift his head slightly to look you in the eyes.
“you’re kidding right now, aren’t you?”
the way he glares at you has you breaking into giggles. he can hardly keep his eyes open, much less entertain your antics. even on his good days you know you couldn’t pay your boyfriend a million dollars to go out to some noisy, crowded bar. this is his ideal friday night, and if it were up to him he’d stay this way all weekend.
“you think you’re so funny,” he grumbles as he settles back into your lap. “all i wanna do right now is lay here while you watch whatever shitty movie you’ve got on, what is this anyway?”
“it’s not shitty, ‘suki. it’s a classic—gnomeo and juliet.”












