Light My Soul on Fire pt 8
~*~
Katsuki did, in fact, have to call the hag for new slacks. The pair he had was much too small for him now. Much to his embarrassment, he couldn’t even pull them up past his thighs. The damn sneaky witch kept her cool over the phone, but as soon as he said bye, he heard her screeching for his father and knew that she’d be bombarding him with questions in no time.
“How are you, son?” His dad asked when Katsuki got to their house.
“M’good,” Katsuki said. He was somewhat on edge. He’d expected the hag to divebomb him as soon as he set foot in their house. The fact that she hadn’t was… concerning. She hadn’t even been the one to answer the door, and he didn’t see or hear her anywhere. “Where’s the witch?”
“Your mother is in the basement,” Masaru said with a snort. “You haven’t asked us to make you clothes in quite a while. I think she’s excited.”
Katsuki sighed. “I haven’t needed anything since the last time I asked.”
“I figured as much,” Masaru led Katsuki into the kitchen. “You only asked for casual clothes the last time.”
His tone was curious, but Bakugou Masaru wasn’t pushy. He knew that pushing Katsuki to talk would do the opposite of what he wanted, so he was content to wait at least a bit.
“Tea?”
Katsuki nodded and sat at the table with a sigh.
“How’ve you guys been?”
His father looked delighted as he immediately launched into a ramble about their fashion line and the recent happenings. For a moment Katsuki was reminded of Izuku, and he bit his lip to keep the grin off of his face. No need to give the old man anything to gossip with the hag about later.
Katsuki wasn’t sure how much time had passed when an unholy screech came from the basement stairs.
“Masa! Is the brat here yet?!”
Katsuki groaned and dropped his head into his hands as he heard his mother stomp up the stairs. He… may or may not have been stalling. It’s not that he didn’t want to see his mother or get the measurements and shit over with, he just knew how she was. When she wanted to know something she would pick and prod and poke at him, in this case possibly literally, until she learned everything she wanted to know. And like he told Kirishima, he didn’t want to jinx anything.
“Sorry Suki, I’ve been hogging him a little,” Katsuki’s dad chuckled. His mom’s face was completely unamused when she turned the corner into the kitchen.
“I’m down in the workshop sweating my tits off and going through fabrics, meanwhile you two chucklefucks are up here having a goddamn tea party,” she scoffed. The twitch to her lip gave her away.
“Nobody told you to start before I even got here, hag,” Katsuki snapped with a snort and a roll of his eyes.
“Oh fuck off,” she said. Katsuki flipped her off, the normalcy of the interaction causing him to relax almost against his will.
“You ready then?”
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
Katsuki followed her down into the basement which doubled as a workshop for when one of his parents (or both of them on occasion) had personal projects they wanted to work on. Without being prompted, he stripped off his sweats, folded his tank top up so his midriff was bare, and moved to the raised platform that was set up.
“Nice to know you remember how this works.”
Katsuki snorted.
“I only did this once or twice a year for the first two decades of my fucking life.”
His parents would never let him wear shit off the rack or mass produced. At one point the hag had literally told him she’d rather die.
“Yeah yeah.”
A tape measure suddenly wrapped around Katsuki’s hips and he almost jumped. He’d kind of expected the interrogation to come before the measuring.
“So,” ah, there it was. “Why’d you need slacks all of a sudden?”
Katsuki shrugged one shoulder lightly, trying to keep still.
“Katsuki.”
He huffed. “I’m not even sure,” he muttered, hoping she would leave it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky.
Mitsuki’s hands paused for just a moment where she’d stretched the tape measure down the outside of his leg.
“What do you mean?”
Katsuki sighed and did his best to keep from shifting uncontrollably, lest he be stabbed with a pin. It had happened before.
“I mean it’s a fuckin’ surprise.”
“You’re letting someone take you someplace where you need to dress up and you don’t even know where you’re going?”
“Yes,” Katsuki snapped.
The resulting silence had katsuki on edge. His mom came into view, her eyes on where she was measuring, and he was surprised to see a soft smile on her face.
“Can I at least know the name of the person who’s charmed my notoriously difficult son?” She eventually asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Why would I do that? So you can go run another goddamn background check?”
Mitsuki sighed. “That was one time.”
“It was three times actually but nice fucking try.”
She groaned and Katsuki scoffed.
“I promise I won’t run a background check.”
Katsuki eyed her critically. “I’m supposed to just take your word?”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
No. No she hadn’t.
Katsuki sighed. “Midoriya Izuku.”
Mitsuki stiffened, her brows furrowed.
“What?” Katsuki snapped. That was not the reaction he’d expected. He’d expected smugness from getting him to talk about someone he liked. Or even curiosity about the person he liked.
Not this guarded wariness.
At his tone Mitsuki shook her head.
“It’s nothing. What are they like?”
Katsuki eyed his mother with frustration. He knew she had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t fess up if she didn’t want to. He was the same, after all. So instead of pushing like he wanted to, Katsuki huffed and told his mom about how he met the omega.
If it was important, she’d tell him.
~*~
A little peek into the Bakuhouse. Wonder why Mitsuki got all weird when she found out Izuku’s name. 👀
Also to anyone who’s new to this fic it is gonna be an accidental inc*st fic so pls take care of yourselves. I’d tag it but idk how this place is with that kinda stuff and I don’t want my work removed. 😅
I also have update goals for my fics! The kofi goal for this one is up.
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