They both came back from shopping, arms full of bags—most of which Katsuki was carrying. Ejirou’s face lit up the moment he spotted you lounging on the couch, absorbed in your book. In his excitement, he accidentally dropped the bags he was holding—right onto Katsuki’s toes.

“Damn it, Shitty Hair!” Katsuki barked, glaring, but Ejirou paid him no mind.

Instead, Ejirou practically launched himself at you, wrapping you in a bear hug that knocked the breath out of you.

“Poprock!” he exclaimed, his voice full of pure joy as he squeezed you tightly.

Katsuki grumbled under his breath, shoving the bags off his aching foot and hauling them to the counter. Finally, he stalked over to where you sat, his expression softening as he leaned down. He pressed a quick, warm kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he muttered, voice low and rough but undeniably affectionate.