Denki and Katsuki had been together for a while by now - a relationship that, to outsiders, seemed unlikely at first, but in hindsight… maybe not at all. They’d gotten together some time after the war, and over the months, their bond had grown into something steady, comfortable, and surprisingly public.

Now it was their third year, and a year had passed since they officially became a couple. Summer break was over; September had arrived, and with graduation looming in April, Denki had finally worked up the courage to bring something up.

He had a crush on you.

To his surprise - and secret relief - Katsuki admitted he felt the same. The two of them had talked it over, carefully weighing how to bring you into the equation without breaking the rhythm of their relationship. Denki had been glad, in truth, that the conversation hadn’t ended in disaster.

After a series of small, tense debates over logistics and wording, they settled on a plan: Katsuki would send the text. It would ask you to meet them in his room that night. Slightly ominous, yes - but they both knew it would work. If Denki had been the one to send it? There was only a fifty-fifty chance you’d show.

Now it was nine o’clock. Katsuki paced the room in restless loops, hands tugging at his sweatpants every few seconds, jaw tight with anticipation. Denki lay across Katsuki’s bed, face buried in a pillow, trying - and failing - to keep his own nerves in check. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards as Katsuki passed, both of them waiting for what felt like the most important night of their lives.