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It’s not Katsuki’s fault he tends to stare at Shouto a lot.
He’s always doing some dumbass shit, and he’s—he’s so ridiculously pretty it almost hurts.
The main thing Katsuki’s noticed is that he tends to fidget.
With his own shirt sleeve. The edge of it. The last button on his shirts, close to the bottom. Anything that might be kinda fun to touch and do it again, and do it again.
Shouto does. And it’s always been a thing.
Shouto does it more when it’s a bit louder, just…generally. Not Katsuki loud. Overstimulating, that’s the word he used. He does it more when people ask about his mom.
Now Katsuki watches as Shouto spins the ring around his finger. All the way one way, then back the other.
He’s always touching it, moving it a little from left to right. Sometimes he just…pinches it between the fingers of his other hand. Or runs one of his fingertips over the smooth metal.
It’s—it’s starting to make Katsuki feel some type of way. All the touching.
It’s their wedding ring for fuck’s sake.
Katsuki slipped it onto his hand one quiet morning in April, no hoopla, just them—after updating their family registers and making all the paperwork match what they already knew.
Katsuki wears one too. He just doesn’t touch it nearly as often. So much so that he’s noticed it functions as a kind of natural deterrent for people who try and flirt with Shouto.
Which should be punishable by law and never ever happen.
They’ll throw some kind of line at him and he’ll be standing there with his stupid blank kissable face, touching that ring, and go. “Oh. Yes. Thank you.”
Then they’ll see that ring, clock which finger it’s on and take it as the accidental fuck off that it should be.
It’s not really Shouto’s fault that he never gets when people are flirting with him.
“I thought they were just being nice?” he usually says. “But you have nothing to worry about.”
As if Katsuki is worried. When Shouto and his demon cat sleep in Katsuki’s goddamn bed every night. Eat his soba and his amazing tamagoyaki and omurice for late breakfast in the morning. When Shouto once started a sentence with a hey, could you—and Katsuki said yeah before hearing the rest of it.
So worry is for extras who aren’t working very hard.
The ring touching is helping a lot though.
Katsuki’s sure that if he asked, Shouto would start responding to compliments on his appearance with sorry, I’m married. But that would probably be too much. Maybe. Shouto deserves to get compliments. He deserves to feel nice. Because he’s so nice it’s stupid and Katsuki can’t even act like he’s above it because he cried when he proposed to him.
And there’s no coming back from that really.
Then Katsuki starts to worry about the engraving that’s on the inside. The one he put there for Shouto to check and read if he ever starts having stupid doubts about them, and the promises Katsuki made to him.
“If you keep spinning it so much you’ll rub off the engraving,” he points out.
He’s prepared for a few possible responses. One, that Shouto doesn’t care, and that’s fine, he was just informing. The second response is that Shouto does care, and he’ll say some rich boy shit like we can just get it re-engraved, right? The way he didn’t know what bananas cost in high school.
But Shouto just blinks at him. “What engraving?”
“The…the one on the inside of the ring. How—how the fuck didn’t you notice? Every time you take it off.”
“I never take it off,” Shouto says. “Why would I?”
Oh. Huh. He never takes it off. He never takes his wedding ring off.
Katsuki can be so normal about this. “HAH?”
“What does the engraving say?” Shouto wonders out loud, fidgets with the ring again. “Was it written to me…?”
No.
Shouto was supposed to have read it already. Maybe with Katsuki in another room. Or Katsuki asleep in his lap. Or really any situation when he wouldn’t be looking at Katsuki.
He watches Shouto start to take it off. Then grabs his hand to stop him.
“Um. I want to read it,” Shouto says.
“You can’t read that shit in front of me,” Katsuki hisses.
“...okay,” Shouto says, and he slips the ring back on.
Then he raises both of his hands, like a peace offering.
“Was it something nice?” Shouto asks.
“...yeah,” Katsuki says. “For. For you.”
When they go to bed that night Shouto gets in bed behind him. With an arm around Katsuki’s waist. Small spoon moments are only okay when Katsuki’s just had a nightmare, so he doesn’t know what the fuck this is about until Shouto kisses his cheek.
“I read it,” Shouto says. “You are very, very sweet.”