promises kept

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/54657424.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia (Anime & Manga)
Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki,
Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Shouto
Additional Tags: Getting Together, Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort,
Codependency, Clingy Midoriya Izuku, Fluff, Angst, Light Angst though
like seriously don't worry, Injury Recovery, Cuddling & Snuggling,
Eventual Smut, Top Bakugou Katsuki, Time Skips, this is basically an
excuse to cram all my post war bkdk headcanons into one fic, Soft
Bakugou Katsuki, Soft Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou
Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku are Soulmates, Class 1-A Shenanigans (My
Hero Academia), the fic is almost fully written dw, Other Additional
Tags to Be Added, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga
Spoilers, Manga Spoilers up to chapter 417, Canon Compliant, Angst
with a Happy Ending, extremely heavy on the comfort in the hurt
comfort, Light Angst, Pining Bakugou Katsuki, Pining, Bottom Midoriya
Izuku, Slice of Life, Post-war Bkdk, minor kirimina and momojirou
Language:
💥🥦
English

📚💙
Collections: Post-War BakuDeku, BKDK Personal favoritess , ★ Bluey's
Library ★, A Library of Re-Reads, BKDK Because I Said So,
Stellar Fics: A Wonder Duo Collection ☆★, Kaylee’s favorite fics,
BNHA Top Tier
Stats: Published: 2024-03-22 Completed: 2024-10-24 Words: 125,657
Chapters: 10/10
 promises kept
by gabstar

Summary

after barely surviving the war, katsuki swears to do right by izuku. no matter what it takes.

Notes

uhhh so as of right now, chapter 417 is what we have in the manga so i'm operating under the
assumption that izuku keeps base OFA but loses all the other bonus quirks (pour one out for
blackwhip fml) also this is the first multichap fic i've done in a while, but i have all the story
beats written out !! chapter two should be out in like a week!

thank you so so much to @Fawn_Eyed_Girl for beta reading and holding my hand through
out this !! i love you so so much you are my rock and my whole world !!
 in-love sparkle
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Katsuki is so fucking sick of hospital rooms.

He hates the heavy scent of antiseptic, the too-starchy pillows, the way the bed crackles every
time he moves. He hates the white-popcorn walls that he’s forced to stare at through the haze
of heavy medication. And he fucking despises the plastic tube shoved up his nose with the
quiet, but constant, beeping of several machines keeping tabs on his vitals. Everything about
it sucks.

The only slightly redeeming quality about this particular hospital stay is that he and Izuku are
sharing the same room. Apparently, after Katsuki’s tantrum the last time they both nearly
died, the nurses figured it was best for everyone if Izuku was put directly in Katsuki’s line of
vision. And so there he is, still knocked out in his hospital bed opposite Katsuki’s. Half his
head wrapped in gauze, face swollen with purple bruises, he’s bandaged just about
everywhere, but he’s alive. Katsuki is too riddled with pain meds to do much other than stare
at him across the room. But at least Izuku is there, hooked up to a heart-monitor, softly
proving that he’s still breathing. Which gives Katsuki’s battered heart some much needed
relief.

Izuku still hasn’t woken up, though. Stupid, sleepy bastard. Always fucking sleeping when
Katsuki is awake. How the fuck has Katsuki had three surgeries, one of them open-heart
surgery, and he’s managing to flit in and out of consciousness, but Izuku is still out like a
light? Katsuki thought Izuku swore to surpass him. Why the fuck does he think he can fall
behind now? Katsuki scowls at Izuku’s tuft of fluffy green hair.

Wake up or I’ll kill you , Katsuki vows.

Katsuki knows he’s in love with him. He should have known a long time ago really, but
having his heart burst put everything into stark clarity. He can’t deny it now. Not even if he
wanted to. The next time Katsuki greets death, he will do so without regrets. There’s so much
he needs to make up for; he still has so much atoning left to do. He has to show Izuku he will
be better and do right by him. Izuku can’t fucking die before Katsuki has the chance to prove
himself. Even if Izuku never loves him back, Katsuki must at least prove that he can be good.
That he is worthy of standing at Izuku’s side.

Days pass and Izuku still doesn’t wake. Katsuki’s pleadings only get more desperate. Usually
it’s just in his head, but sometimes, when it’s late at night and no one else is around, Katsuki
will murmur to him aloud.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Katsuki whispers into the oppressive quiet of their hospital
room. Only the soft chime of Izuku’s heart-monitor answers him. “You don’t have to be
mine. Just wake up. Don’t make me live in a world without you.”
Shadows dance as headlights stream through the curtains shading their window, and for a
moment Katsuki thinks maybe— but no. The car passes and Izuku hasn’t stirred. God
fucking dammit. Katsuki doesn’t know why he’s surprised: of course Izuku can’t actually
hear him. Tears prick at the corners of Katsuki’s eyes anyway.

It becomes a nightly ritual. Katsuki’s mind is too muddled with medication to make sense
most of the time, but at least it gives him something to do. God, he can’t wait until he’s off all
this shit and actually, you know, move and whatever. His arm was so bent and twisted by
Shigaraki that they had to implant metal poles to strengthen it, and fuck if it doesn’t feel
weird. Recovery Girl comes by every day to heal him, bit by bit so as not to exhaust his
limited energy, and there’s a quirk specialist flying out from the states to repair Katsuki’s
damaged muscle. They have assured him that with time and physical therapy he should get
all his mobility back, but it gives Katsuki little comfort. He would cut the whole damn limb
off if it meant Izuku would just wake up .

“Please, for me,” Katsuki whispers, one night after a particularly exhausting round of visits
from his parents, Izuku’s mom, and All Might. “Just this one thing. Just wake up. I won’t ask
for anything else, just be okay.”

Katsuki must drift off. The concoction of sleep-aids and pain medications dragging him into
unconsciousness against his will. He thinks he might be dreaming when he hears ragged
breathing and a soft croaky voice.

“Ka— K’ch’n… Kach—”

Katsuki jolts awake, his heart-rate spiking and his head spinning. He can’t have— it couldn’t
be—

“ Kacchan… ”

Fuck! Katsuki only has one good arm to haul himself upright and the process is fucking
excruciating. Fiery spears split him right down the middle, every muscle in his body screams
in agony, but he grits his teeth through it as he forces himself to sit up. It’s well after
midnight, with only the dim glow of the streetlights outside their window illuminating the
room, and Katsuki can just make out Izuku’s fluffy head shifting back and forth on his pillow.
Oh thank god. Thank the universe, thank fucking whatever happens to be out there. Izuku is
moving . He’s speaking . Katsuki’s feeble heart flips over itself half a hundred times.

He throws off the starchy hospital sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. His
legs feel like fucking jelly after weeks of disuse, and he trembles as he pushes himself up
onto his feet. He takes one shaky step forward, forgetting he’s hooked up to an oxygen tank
and is yanked back suddenly as the tube pulls tight. He scrambles for purchase, catching
himself on the privacy screen, and with tremendous effort, he barely manages to stay upright.
He rips the stupid tube out of his nose with a furious growl, sending the heavy metal oxygen
tank crashing to the floor with a clang. Izuku gasps at the sound, and fuck, he is awake.
Katsuki lunges toward him with all of his strength, stumbling as he forces his wobbly legs to
carry him across the room to him, to Izuku, Izuku. His face is so pale, but his eyes are open
and glittering in the faint light. Katsuki doesn’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful than he
does at this moment. Katsuki’s body heaves with his sobs.
“Kacchan…” Izuku whispers. His voice is so hoarse.

“I’m here,” Katsuki answers. He’s fucking shaking. It feels like every cell in his body is
rattling, whether out of protest from moving so much or the sheer enormity of the emotions
surging through him, Katsuki doesn’t know. Hot tears race down his cheeks embarrassingly
quickly. “Izuku, I’m here.”

Izuku’s breath stammers. He turns his face toward him, blinking up at Katsuki blearily. He
looks Katsuki up and down; his eyes widen.

“ Kacchan ,” he whispers, and soon enough Izuku is crying too. Because of course he is. The
familiarity of it strikes a tender chord in Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki laughs and finally his
wobbly legs give out from under him. He falls to his knees at Izuku’s bedside, throwing his
bad arm around Izuku and pressing his face into Izuku’s heavily bandaged chest.

“You fuckin’ scared the shit out of me,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku hooks an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. His tentative fingers rise to thread through
the soft spikes of Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki closes his eyes: he can feel the rhythm of Izuku’s
heartbeat, the even rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathes, the way his chest convulses
when he sobs softly. Katsuki has never particularly liked being touched before, but this is
different. This feels right. It startles Katsuki just how good it feels. He doesn’t know why
he’s surprised; Izuku has always been the exception to every rule Katsuki has. Izuku braces
his other arm around Katsuki and Katsuki feels him trying to squeeze with what little strength
he has.

“You’re… okay?” Izuku whispers, after a beat of just holding one another. “You’re…”

“I’m fine,” Katsuki confirms. God, it’s so good to hear Izuku’s voice, even better to feel it
rumbling through his flesh. “Jesus, you sound like shit. Here lemme—”

Katsuki moves to grab Izuku some water for his poor dried out throat, but Izuku seizes him
with sudden, terrifying force. Neon green light flashes through the room as Izuku’s skin
crackles with electricity. The air comes to life with a sharp snap of ozone.

“Don’t leave,” Izuku orders, voice ragged. “Don’t— please.”

Katsuki freezes at the anguish in Izuku’s voice. The desperation. He shouldn’t be activating
his quirk like this; his body has already been pushed to the extreme. He could hurt himself.

“Hey, relax,” Katsuki says. He only has one good arm to use, but he fumbles to grab
whatever of Izuku that he can with it— which turns out to be his shoulder— and rubs it,
hoping the gesture is soothing. Goddamnit, Katsuki doesn’t know how to be fucking
soothing. Katsuki leans back, trying to make eye-contact. “Izuku, hey.”

“Don’t,” Izuku says again, clinging to him so tightly it squeezes the air out of Katsuki’s
lungs. “Just stay.”

“Okay,” Katsuki says. “Okay.”

Katsuki wouldn’t be able to tell you how long they stay entangled like that. It must be a while
though. So long that Katsuki’s knees ache against the linoleum floor and his thighs shake
with the effort of keeping him upright. Fuck, he should have been pushing himself harder if
even this small exertion is taxing. What has his recovery been for if not for this? Being there
when Izuku needs him most? Katsuki clutches to Izuku so hard that it strains the stitches in
his chest. He refuses to let go. He won’t fail Izuku again, not when he so clearly needs him.
Izuku rubs his back up and down.

“You’re trembling,” Izuku whispers.

“Sorry,” Katsuki rasps. There are black spots crowding the edges of his vision and he sinks
further into Izuku’s embrace. “Fuck.”

Izuku does pull back then, his hand dragging across the span of Katsuki’s shoulders in a way
that makes Katsuki shiver. It’s too dark to see the color of Izuku’s eyes, but they devour
Katsuki anyway. So wide and earnest and expressive. Katsuki can see the gears turning in his
head.

“You okay?” Izuku asks.

“Fine,” Katsuki says, lying. He forces himself to breathe evenly as his thighs tremble. “Don’t
worry about me.”

Izuku’s brows pinch. His lips tuck into a little frown. His hands are bandaged, but his finger
tips are bare as they come frame Katsuki’s face, sinking down to skim over the skin of
Katsuki’s throat. He finds the collar of Katsuki’s hospital gown and tugs gently.

“Come here,” Izuku says, almost too quietly to be heard.

Somehow Katsuki knows exactly what he wants, but he can’t quite bring himself to believe
it. He chokes. He shakes his head once.

“Izuku,” Katsuki says, trying to sound scolding.

But of course Izuku doesn’t listen. He makes pained, hitched little noises as he scoots over on
the bed, but even when Katsuki tells him to stop, Izuku dismisses him with a huff. Izuku
manages to lay on his side and winces, probably because his busted ribs still aren’t quite
healed (stupid, stubborn fucker) and then he looks at Katsuki with huge pleading eyes.

“Come here?” Izuku asks again, sounding painfully unsure.

Katsuki wonders if there’s anything he would be able to deny Izuku if he asked for it like
that. Probably not. Katsuki’s sigh streams out his nose and he dutifully climbs up onto the
bed beside him. He can feel Izuku’s warmth lingering on the sheets and their knees knock
together as he settles next to him. God it’s such a fucking relief to be laying down again;
Katsuki hates himself for it. He can’t believe he’s allowed himself to get this fucking weak.
Izuku must see it on his face, but mercifully says nothing.
Katsuki doesn’t know who reaches out for who first, but soon enough Izuku’s head is tucked
under his chin and their arms are wrapped around one another. Katsuki’s chest is a little
tender where Izuku’s cheek rests against it, but it doesn’t matter. For the first time in weeks,
Katsuki feels truly at peace. Safe. Whole.

The nurses are infuriated to find them like that in the morning, but when they try to separate
them, Izuku goes into a panic. He activates his quirk so strongly that it fries his heart monitor
and singes the bedsheets. The compromise is that Katsuki is allowed to stay in Izuku’s
hospital bed, so long as he doesn’t tear out his oxygen tube again, and Izuku doesn’t break
anymore expensive machinery.

“You hear that, you little shit?” Katsuki asks, ruffling Izuku’s hair. He has to be gentle to
avoid the big bandage on the side of his head. Izuku only laughs weakly.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” he whispers.

They’re under strict orders not to aggravate each other’s injuries, but other than a few pointed
stares, no one comments on their cuddling. They don’t have much of a choice in a bed this
small, but Izuku seems to make it a point to be touching Katsuki at all times. Whether it’s
their legs draped over one another, or keeping their fingers intertwined, or laying in the cradle
of Katsuki’s arms, Izuku is all over him constantly. Katsuki is surprised to find he doesn’t
mind. He doesn’t even question why Izuku is so clingy really. It doesn’t matter. Katsuki had
come back from death’s door swearing to do right by Izuku, and if that means warming his
hospital bed, then fuck alright sure. It’s the least he can do, really. It’s a little awkward when
Midoriya Inko comes by and visibly startles at the sight of Katsuki in Izuku’s bed, but she’s
distracted quickly enough when Izuku throws his arms around her and begins babbling his
apologies. Katsuki hands them both tissues when they cry, and staggers to his feet to bring
them both water bottles once they’ve exhausted all their tears. Izuku squeezes his hand
gratefully, giving him a watery smile.

All Might comes by to see them too, but mercifully doesn’t say much other than to give
Izuku updates on Shigaraki’s condition and their plans for his rehabilitation. He has a strange,
secretive smile on his face as he leaves them, giving Katsuki a pointed look as if to say take
care of him . As soon as he disappears out the door, Izuku drops his head onto Katsuki’s
shoulder and sighs.

“Tired?” Katsuki asks. Izuku nods. Katsuki wraps an arm around him and rubs his back.
Izuku makes a sweet little sound and nuzzles further into him, and fuck if it isn’t the cutest
thing Katsuki’s ever heard. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself not to think
about it. “Should sleep.”

Izuku hums. He rests his hand over Katsuki’s heart. He does that a lot, like he’s checking to
make sure it’s still beating, even though Katsuki’s heart monitor is right fucking there. He
looks up at Katsuki then. His striking green eyes are hazy and drowsy, and rimmed with dark
bruises. There’s dry tear-tracks on his freckled cheeks and Katsuki thumbs at them
absentmindedly.

“And you’ll stay?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki nods.

A dimple appears as Izuku smiles at him. Fuck, the way Izuku smiles at him is bad news for
Katsuki’s still-recovering heart. When the hell did Izuku get so cute? Is all the snuggling
corrupting Katsuki’s brain? He’ll have to think about it later. Izuku pulls him down and lets
Katsuki lay his head on his chest, his scarred fingers scratching his scalp until he falls asleep.

Now that Izuku is awake, more intense healing quirks can be used on him and one by one his
bandages get removed. Apparently his and Katsuki’s dramatic acts of heroism have gone
viral, and famous specialty healers have flown in to restore their bodies specifically. Both of
their phones were smashed to pieces during the war, so Katsuki will just have to trust all of
this is true, which he doesn’t like at all. The specialty healers are an American couple, with
round faces and pronounced fake teeth. Katsuki eyes them suspiciously as Izuku cries in his
gratitude. He pleads with them to help the friends who were also injured during the war, but
is shocked to hear most of them have already fully recovered.

“I told you,” Katsuki scoffs. “You were out for fuckin’ ages.”

Izuku shoots him a shy look.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

The next several days go by in a blur. They eat their meals together, go to physical therapy
together, have sessions with the specialty healers together, but they don’t really… talk. Not
about anything serious anyway. They’re not left alone long enough to have a proper
conversation about everything. Now that they’re bedsharing a nurse is checking on them on
the hour every hour— probably to make sure they weren’t— you know. Fuck, Katsuki does
not blush thinking about it, he fucking doesn’t, but he is indignant at the excess supervision.
As if Katsuki would be depraved enough to fondle Izuku on what very well could have been
his deathbed. Not that Izuku would even want him to! Goddammit, it’s too embarrassing to
even think about. Katsuki always sends those peeping tom nurses his nastiest glare when he
catches them peeking into their room.

Sometimes, though, Katsuki sees a shadow pass over Izuku’s vision and he just knows. He’ll
catch Izuku staring at the heavy cast on Katsuki’s arm, or his lip will tremble as Katsuki
struggles practice-walking around the room. It’s especially bad when Katsuki needs his
bandages changed and Izuku gets a look at just how mangled his chest has become. Katsuki
will take his hand or ruffle his hair, and try to find anything— anything to distract him.

“I had a quirk awakening,” Katsuki informs him as they have lunch in the hospital’s cafeteria.
Katsuki is probably too proud of them both for walking all the way here without assistance,
but hey, an achievement is still a fucking achievement, okay? Izuku hasn’t spoken a word
since Katsuki’s bandages were changed that morning and it’s making Katsuki’s skin feel like
it’s two-sizes too tight. Katsuki can’t believe there has come a day where he actually misses
the nerd’s incessant mumbling. Izuku stares down at his lunchtray, unblinking.

“I can make explosions all over now,” Katsuki continues, shoving rice into his face as he
does. “Even from like. My feet and shit.”

Izuku still doesn’t look at him, but Katsuki doesn’t miss the way his brows twitch in interest.
Katsuki smirks. That’s his fucking nerd right there.

“Should help me with my mobility a lot,” Katsuki goes on. “And you know. I can carry shit.
Use my feet to propel myself or whatever. Won’t need to rely on my arms as much
anymore.”

He lets that hang in the air a moment as he chews.

“You’ll need to update your hero costume,” Izuku murmurs. “To brace your legs for the
blowback.”

“Good thinking,” Katsuki says, eager to keep him talking. Izuku jolts and whips his head
around to stare at him with huge, incredulous eyes. Katsuki bristles. “What?”

Izuku opens his mouth, then closes it. He frowns and shakes his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” Izuku says, quietly. He scratches his chin with his index finger as he
thinks. “And you can explode from… just anywhere?”

“I mean I haven’t fuckin’ tested it out if that’s what you’re askin’,” Katsuki blusters. His
cheeks heat with embarrassment and he has no idea why. “Haven’t had the chance.”

Izuku considers that for a moment. “We should experiment with it once we’re recovered.”

We. Katsuki’s stomach does a kick-flip at the word. He grins.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you now,” Katsuki says smugly.

There’s a warm glimmer in Izuku’s eyes as he turns to smile at him.

“I bet you will,” Izuku says.

They’re going to be okay. Somehow, in this small moment, Katsuki is certain of it. They’ll
both need therapy, physical and emotional, and it won’t be fuckin’ easy. But they’ll make it.
And they’ll do it together. It’s this thought that has Katsuki’s hand shooting across the table,
impulsively reaching for Izuku’s, and Izuku flinches from it like he’s been struck. Shit.
Katsuki retracts on instinct, feeling like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on him with
how fast his mood shifts.

“Wait!” Izuku cries, snatching his hand back and interlocking their fingers. “Don’t!”
Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, this is so embarrasing. What had Katsuki been
thinking?

“I’m sorry,” Izuku says, so earnestly Katsuki thinks it might kill him. “I didn’t mean— I’m
just surprised. I didn’t think— there’s just so many people around and—”

“Whatever,” Katsuki gruffs out. What right does he have to be upset? Of course Izuku
flinches from him. It’s how he should respond when Katsuki only ever reaches out to hurt
him. Of course he— It’s only natural he—

“Kacchan,” Izuku pleads. His voice cracks painfully. “Kacchan, please don’t be mad.”

Katsuki forces himself to relax. He practices intentional breathing the way that old hack
therapist is always yapping at him to.

“I’m not mad,” Katsuki says, evenly.

“You seem mad,” Izuku counters.

“I’m not,” Katsuki presses. He sighs. Izuku squeezes their tangled fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Izuku is quiet for a long moment.

“It’s okay,” Izuku says, eventually.

It isn’t. Katsuki shakes his head, but before he can say another word the nurses come to fetch
them for physical therapy and the moment is lost. Izuku seems more like himself, at least, but
Katsuki can’t shake the sour feeling in his gut. Even Izuku chattering warmly and heaping
praise on Katsuki for his mobility improvement with his bad arm doesn’t lessen the ache in
Katsuki’s heart.

Their friends stop by that afternoon. Kirishima sobs as he hugs both of them, Todoroki only
drops by for a moment to bring them both flowers, (“Idiot! What the fuck am I supposed to
do with these?” “Kacchan, he’s trying to be nice, say thank you!”) and Uraraka asks for a
moment alone with Izuku. Katsuki pretends his heart doesn’t drop as he watches her take
Izuku’s hand and lead him out into the hall.

“Hey man,” Kirishima says, punching him on the shoulder lightly. “Seriously. You really
okay?”

Katsuki stares at the door. Izuku hadn’t flinched when Uraraka had reached for his hand.
Katsuki feels like his insides have gone through a paper shredder. He feels fractured and
broken and like his guts have slithered out of his skin and are bleeding out all over the floor.
He thinks his heart bursting in his chest had hurt less. At least then he had adrenaline to get
him through it. He rubs at his sternum absentmindedly.

“... Bakugou? Bakugou, hey.”

Kirishima claps a hand over his shoulder and Katsuki flinches, snapping out of his trance at
once.
“What?” Katsuki asks, probably too harshly.

Kirishima follows his gaze to the door and smiles knowingly.

“Y’know… I saw the footage,” Kirishima says. Only then does Katsuki turn to give him a
strange look.

“Footage of what?” Katsuki asks.

Kirishima laughs, but Katsuki continues to stare at him uncomprehendingly.

“Of the fight!” Kirishima continues. “You know it was all recorded, right?”

“ What? ”

“Yeah, man, it’s all anyone can talk about!” Kirishima goes on with a sharp-toothed grin.
“That techy girl from the support classes made these drone-camera things and they recorded
everything.”

Is that why they had gone so viral? Well at least that explained why random healers had
flown half-way across the world just to heal teenagers from Japan. Fuck, of course. Katsuki
should have known. He’d thought they’d been attracting an abnormal amount of stares when
they dined in the cafeteria, but he hadn’t even imagined—

“It was pretty brutal,” Kirishima admits. “I couldn’t watch the part where Shigaraki… you
know. But your comeback was incredible! And Midoriya… man, he was scary!”

“Scary?” Katsuki asks, frowning.

Kirishima shakes his head. “You’ll have to see for yourself. You know, whenever you’re
ready.”

Katsuki’s mind is reeling. Why the fuck had no one told him there was footage of him
fighting All For One floating around? He supposes they’re more focused on his recovery and
not giving him any big shocks while his heart is still stabilizing. He wishes his parents would
hurry up and buy him a new phone already so he can check for himself. He glances back
toward the door and feels an uncomfortable twitch in his chest.

“It might be too hard to watch,” Kirishima admits. “But when Izuku found you and you
were… you know. I mean, it’s obvious how much he cares about you.”

Katsuki’s heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, becoming a deep, dark pit of despair.
Cares about you . Why do the words hurt so much? That’s more than enough, isn’t it? It has
to be enough. Care is more than Katsuki could ever possibly deserve after all the hurt he’s put
Izuku through. He shouldn’t expect the soft, uncomplicated love that Izuku must feel for
someone like Round Cheeks. Katsuki’s mouth fills with bitterness, and embarrassing tears
prick at the corners of his eyes. He curses his stupid, greedy fucking heart for wanting the
one thing he can’t have. The one thing he’ll never have, because how could Katsuki ever
deserve it?
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Kirishima says, abashed. “It’s probably— you know,
still sensitive.”

Katsuki shakes his head and clears his throat.

“‘S’fine,” Katsuki says. Fuck, he needs to get his shit together. If Izuku comes back and
notices he’s been crying he’s gonna flip. “Did I look cool?”

“The coolest!” Kirishima cries, pumping his fists.

Uraraka and Izuku reappear over an hour later. Izuku’s eyes are red and cheeks flushed, but
he looks— god, it feels like a punch in the gut— happy . Uraraka looks happy, too. Katsuki
can barely stand the sight of them. He’s glad when the nurses inform them visiting hours are
over. Kirishima hugs them both twice before leaving, and Uraraka gives them a shy little
wave. Izuku sighs with relief when the door closes behind them.

“Is it bad to say I’m kinda glad they’re gone?” Izuku asks, after a moment. “I’m exhausted
after all that.”

Katsuki thumbs the edge of his pillowcase as he sits on the edge of the bed. Their parents had
brought them comfier pillows and thicker blankets for their hospital stay, so their bed isn’t so
sterile and lifeless. Katsuki had loved the sight of their bedding mixed together. Now it just
leaves him feeling cold.

“What did Round Cheeks want?” Katsuki asks, roughly.

“Hm?” Izuku says. “Oh. Nothing really.”

The lie spears Katsuki through his core. He grips his pillow in tight fists as his palms heat
with agitation.

“Sure,” Katsuki says, clipped. He stands suddenly, snatching up his pillow and blanket and
marching over to the otherside of the room. He slams them onto his abandoned hospital bed
angrilly.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks. His voice sounds so small and fragile. “Kacchan, what— what are
you—”

“What does it look like?” Katsuki gruffs out. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

“But…” Izuku’s breathing is ragged. Katsuki turns to look at him and fuck, he’s trembling.
Izuku’s huge eyes are full of hurt. Shit. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and looks away. Izuku
stumbles after him. “Why?”

“Why am I tired?” Katsuki asks, petulantly.

“Why are you— I thought you—”

Fuck, he’s crying. Katsuki can’t just leave him like this. What was the point of his apology
and his promises if he just keeps making him cry? He had sworn out on that battlefield that
he’d do right by Izuku and he meant it. Katsuki steels his nerves.

“Fuck, Izuku, I can’t share a bed with you when you have a fucking girlfriend, alright?”
Katsuki forces himself to say. Each word is more painful than the last. “It’s weird. It isn’t
right.”

Izuku startles. He stares at Katsuki like he’s grown a second head. “Huh?”

Katsuki makes an aggravated noise.

“Round Cheeks. She confessed to you,” Katsuki says, annoyed that he has to spell it out for
him. “You came back crying and blushing and all dopey-looking— Look, it’s probably like.
Cheating or whatever to be snuggling someone else when you’re in a relationship. I’m just
looking out for you.”

It makes Katsuki’s heart race to say it all out loud. Cuddling Izuku was one thing, but
admitting that’s what they’ve been doing feels like another thing entirely. Like somehow
putting it into words makes it all the more real. Katsuki feels like he could choke on his
embarrassment. Fuck, this is why they’ve avoided talking about it. Stupid Round Cheeks, this
is all her fault. Katsuki grits his teeth and looks away.

“Kacchan…” Izuku says. Katsuki can see him shaking his head in the corner of his vision.
“That’s not… Kacchan, Uraraka-san didn’t confess to me.”

What? Katsuki rounds on him, but there’s only sincerity in Izuku’s gaze. And maybe a little
amusement, which, hey, fuck you for that, this shit is serious. Izuku forces himself into a
neutral expression like he can hear Katsuki’s thoughts.

“She actually thanked me,” Izuku goes on. He blushes prettily then. “I guess, uh, at one point
she thought he had feelings for me, but… but then I guess they led her to someone else!
Someone she really, really loves. So.”

Oh. Katsuki flushes so bright and red he must be glowing like a hot coal.

“I didn’t understand most of what she said honestly,” Izuku continues, rubbing the back of his
neck sheepishly. “She seems happy, though? She talked a lot about blood and being stabbed
and that scared me, but she’s got that… I dunno. In-love sparkle to her? I think she really
means it when she says she loves… well I dunno if I’m allowed to tell you who it is! But it’s
complicated, and it’s new, I guess, but I wanna support her! Even if I don’t really get it—”

“So you don’t have a girlfriend,” Katsuki concludes, cutting him off.

Izuku eeps.

“No,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “I don’t.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki says. “Sorry. I thought—”

“Stop,” Izuku says, smiling a little. “It’s alright.”

Katsuki roils with anxiety. He feels like an idiot for even bringing it up. He can’t pretend he
finds their snuggling strictly platonic now, not when he’s just implied— shit, he’s such a
fucking moron. What has he done? He’s fucked everything up for no fucking reason. He feels
sick to the pit of his stomach.

Izuku approaches him, his hand sliding into Katsuki’s own and cheek pressing against
Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Come back?” Izuku asks. So sweet, so imploring.

He looks up at Katsuki with his huge, doe-eyes. His rounded cheeks are adorably flushed.
He’s really gotta stop doing that. At least until Katsuki’s heart is fully recovered anyway.
He’s so fucking cute Katsuki feels the urge to grab Izuku’s face and squeeze him until he
stops breathing.

“Yeah, whatever,” Katsuki says, trying to sound dismissive. He gathers up his pillow and
blanket and doesn’t miss Izuku’s happy little wiggle. Izuku tugs him back toward their
hospital bed and climbs into it.

“Lay down,” Izuku orders, patting the space beside him.

“Bossy little shit,” Katsuki mutters. He throws his pillow at Izuku’s face and Izuku yelps. He
snatches it up and smacks Katsuki over the head with it playfully. “Oi! Alright you asked for
it!”

He steals Izuku’s own pillow and starts going at Izuku with a vengeance. Izuku laughs in
delight, not even trying that hard to dodge. He only manages to hit Katsuki’s ribs once or
twice; most of the time, he just uses his pillow to shield himself from Katsuki’s blows.

“Wait, wait, I can’t breathe!” Izuku cries, giggling. “Stop! Oh my god, my stitches, I can’t.”

“Fucker,” Katsuki curses, throwing the pillow down with a hard thwap . “Serves you right.”

Izuku gives him a truly wicked grin. And then he snatches up Katsuki’s discarded pillow,
holding it with both hands as he smashes it over Katsuki’s head so hard that there’s a loud
pop and tufts of fluff burst out the end.

“You asshole!” Katsuki roars, smacking away the pillow, tackling Izuku into the bed and
stabbing his sides with harsh tickling fingers. Izuku shrieks with laughter.

“No! No please! Mercy, Kacchan! Mercy—”

“You had your chance when you—”

The door opens with a bang. The nurse stares at them, eyes wide with concern. Katsuki leaps
off of Izuku at once. The nurse relaxes. She puts her hands on her hips and scowls.

“Now, boys,” she says, scolding.

“Sorry!” Izuku says, still breathless and somewhat teary. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“If you aggravate each other’s wounds we’ll have to separate you,” the nurse warns, arching
a brow.

“We won’t do it again!” Izuku insists. He nudges Katsuki in the ribs.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, petulantly. “Sorry.”

The nurse leaves them with a hard look, closing the door behind her as she goes. Izuku
slumps with relief.

“That was close,” he says. He squeaks when he sees the state of his pillow, the casing popped
open and fluff vomiting out the side. “Oh my god!”

“That shit hurt,” Katsuki says, sitting down on the hospital bed next to him.

“I can’t believe I broke it,” Izuku says. He rubs the spilling fluff between his fingers.

“You’re strong as hell,” Katsuki says the same moment Izuku says, “Your head is harder than
I thought.”

They exchange a look. Katsuki grabs his scalp, fisting a hand in his curls harshly.

“No! No! Kacchan!” Izuku pleads, in a fierce whisper. “Stop! She’ll come back! Kacchan
please!”

Katsuki feels like he’s dodged a bullet. Izuku is in high spirits the rest of the day, cracking
jokes with their primary care doctor, babbling excitedly about news from their friends, and
even teasing Katsuki when he suggests they watch All Might’s corny cartoon series before
bed. He doesn’t bring up Uraraka again, or Katsuki’s comments on their cuddling; he just
slides under Katsuki’s arm and presses his cheek to his pec as the familiar sounds of All
Might’s cheery theme song lull them to sleep.

And then Katsuki wakes to the sound of Izuku screaming.

Shit! Katsuki’s heart stammers unevenly as he’s jolted awake. Izuku is thrashing beside him,
jostling their bed, and green lightning crackling over his limbs. His eyes are screwed shut as
he convulses with sobs.

“No!” he’s pleading. “Kacchan, no. Kacchan!"

“Idiot, wake up!” Katsuki says, grabbing his wrists before Izuku can hit anything with his
super-charged fists. He leans over him and presses him down into the bed. Izuku kicks at him
in his sleep. “Oi! Izuku! Izuku!”

Katsuki shakes him until Izuku’s eyes snap open. His chest heaves with harsh breathing as he
stares up at Katsuki, his eyes strangely foggy.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Katsuki says. He rubs the underside of Izuku’s wrists with his thumbs.
“You’re safe now. It’s alright, it’s over.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, hoarsely.

“I know,” Katsuki says. He can only imagine what kind of nightmares Izuku must be having
after all the horrors he’s witnessed. “It’s okay now, you’re safe.”

Izuku sobs. Fat, wet, globby tears dribble down his cheeks and his bottom lip quivers. It’s the
most heartbreaking thing Katsuki has ever seen in his life. He draws Izuku to his chest and
rocks him back and forth.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, at least a dozen times.

“I know,” Katsuki answers every time. “I got you. I’m here.”

Izuku wakes up twice more that night, and Katsuki is forced to call the nurse to give him
another dose of his sleep meds. Her lips are pursed into a frown as she watches Izuku gulp
them down greedily.

“We’ll get in touch with a therapist in the morning,” she tells him. “I think everybody needs
someone to talk to after this war. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear.”

Izuku doesn’t answer. He just grips the front of Katsuki’s shirt like a vice and hiccups softly
as his tears subside. The nurse shuts the door behind her on her way out and Katsuki strokes
his hair. They sit together on the edge of the bed, but Izuku refuses to look at him.

“You’re okay,” Katsuki says, not sure who he’s trying to convince more.

Izuku shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Katsuki says, soft. “Nothin’ to be sorry for.”

Izuku snorts wetly. “I keep waking you up!”

“So?” Katsuki says. He ruffles his hair. “Do I look like I got anything better to do?”

Izuku shakes his head again, more determinedly this time.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with all this,” Izuku says, even though he gives Katsuki’s shirt a
little tug like he means to pull him even closer.
“Hey,” Katsuki says, nudging him with his knee. “Remember what I said? When we found
you that day in the rain?”

Izuku hiccups and sniffs, but remains silent.

“I said I’d step in when you can’t do it on your own,” Katsuki reminds him, the stupid
forgetful bastard. “Does this look like something you can do on your own?”

Izuku doesn’t say anything, but he does turn to look at him then. His eyelashes are clumped
and damp with tears, and his skin is so pale that his freckles stand out even more. Still pretty,
some distant part of Katsuki’s brain registers.

“Come on,” Katsuki says softly, gesturing with his head. “Lay down.”

Katsuki gives him his own, non-busted pillow and drapes the blanket over him. Katsuki lays
down beside him, their bodies parallel and facing each other as the dawn slowly fills their
hospital room with a soft lavender glow.

Izuku reaches up and touches the scar on Katsuki’s cheek with gentle fingers. His wide,
expressive eyes are so full of sorrow that something in Katsuki’s chest shatters with it.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku says again, devastatingly soft.

Katsuki frowns. “What for?”

Tears glisten in Izuku’s mossy green eyes.

“Wasn’t there,” he says, voice choked. He sniffles. “Shoulda been at your side.”

Ah. Katsuki was wondering when they would talk about it. He supposes it makes sense. It
wasn’t like Izuku was calling for Shigaraki in his sleep.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki scolds quietly. “You got fuckin’ kidnapped. How’s that your fault?”

“Danger sense didn’t go off,” Izuku says, voice so strained it cuts through Katsuki like a
knife. “I didn’t have time to react, didn’t even see—”

Izuku’s hand curls into a fist against Katsuki’s cheek. Katsuki leans into his touch, humming.

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki says again, more firmly.

Izuku is quiet for a long moment. He strokes Katsuki’s face again with a miserable
expression.

“Thought I lost you,” Izuku whispers.

“You didn’t,” Katsuki counters quickly. He hopes he sounds firm and assuring. He covers
Izuku’s hand with his palm. “Look at me. I’m right here.”
Izuku sniffs and nods, but he still has a far-away look in his eye. Katsuki shakes him just a
little.

“Stay with me,” Katsuki presses. “Look at me.”

“I am looking at you,” Izuku says, but his gaze is still glassy. Katsuki takes his face in his
hands, rubbing over his freckled cheeks with his thumbs.

“There’s no use worrying about what might have happened,” Katsuki tells him. “Because it
worked out. We’re alive. We’re here. We’re going to be okay.”

Izuku nods faintly. And then his face crumples.

“I hate how many scars you have because of me,” he says, voice hoarse.

“I don’t,” Katsuki says, bluntly. “They’re badass as fuck.”

That steals a laugh out of Izuku, even if it’s brief and watery and more out of surprise than
anything. Izuku shakes his head with a shuttering exhale.

“Don’t get anymore,” Izuku orders. “Please.”

Katsuki snorts. “Bossy.”

Izuku gives him a hard look, like he really thinks he’s in any state to be intimidating right
now. Katsuki grins despite himself.

“You don’t get to talk to me about scars,” Katsuki scolds gently. He plucks Izuku’s hand off
his face, following the raised scar-tissue along his palm with the pad of his thumb. “At least
mine were made for a good cause. What was this one from? A fucking tournment?”

Another laugh. Stronger this time. Izuku’s eyebrows pinch together, eyes all full of wonder.

“How do you know that?” he asks.

“I pay attention,” Katsuki says, defensively. He hopes his ears aren’t blushing. Those fucking
things are always such a dead giveaway. Hopefully Izuku doesn’t notice in the half-light of
the coming dawn.

Izuku stares up at him for a long, quiet moment. He entangles their fingers together and
squeezes.

“Don’t make me lose you again,” Izuku whispers.

Katsuki shakes his head fervently. “Never.”

Izuku squeezes until Katsuki’s hand tingles and his knuckles go white.

“I mean it,” Izuku says, fiercely.

“I know,” Katsuki murmurs. “I won’t, Zu.”

Tears roll down Izuku’s cheeks and Katsuki can’t bear to watch it anymore. He shuffles
closer, pulling Izuku to his chest and wrapping an arm around him. Izuku’s breathing hitches,
but he’s quick to cling back. His nails bite into Katsuki’s shoulder blades, his chest rises and
falls against Katsuki’s. Katsuki should be used to it, but somehow it feels all the more
intimate. Katsuki wonders if Izuku can hear it when he swallows thickly.

“Your All Might card is ruined,” Izuku says, into his shoulder long moments later.

A deadweight drops right into his stomach, punching the air out of his lungs and leaving him
strangely wheezy. He’d fucking seen that? Katsuki knew he’d dropped it before passing out,
but he didn’t think Izuku would notice that of all things. Katsuki’s heart pounds like he’s
been caught doing something shameful.

“.... yeah,” Katsuki settles on eventually, hoping he doesn’t sound as caught-off-guard as he

feels.

“You should take mine,” Izuku says.

“What? No,” Katsuki says, scowling.

“It meant a lot to you,” Izuku reasons. “And it’s my fault it’s ruined. So.”

So self-sacrificing. So ridiculously noble, literally too good for this world. How is he going to
stay this way, Katsuki wonders, without eventually becoming jaded by time and experience?
The thought makes Katsuki’s heart feel heavy and poisonous as lead. He refuses to let that
happen. He has to protect the softness of Izuku and make sure he never loses it. Somehow it
feels like it’s as vital as a piece of his own soul.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki scolds. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Izuku insists.

“No, it isn’t,” Katsuki presses. He cradles the nape of Izuku’s neck with a hand. “It’s that
crusty bastard's fault and my own for letting my ass get handed to me like that.”

“Shigaraki killed you to get to me,” Izuku counters. “Just… let me do this for you. Let me
make it up to you, somehow.”

Katsuki sighs heavily. He twirls a curl around his finger and his heart pounds.

“I don’t want your shitty card, nerd,” Katsuki says, evenly. Izuku inhales to protest some
more, but Katsuki charges onward defiantly. “The card’s special cuz we got it together.
There’s no point if you don’t have one too.”

Katsuki feels Izuku’s breath hitch. Izuku draws back, blinking several times as he searches
Katsuki’s face. Katsuki’s heart aches as it races, and he knows he’s definitely blushing now,
but fuck he’s just gonna have to learn to grit his teeth through it. Izuku deserves to know
he… that he… Well, maybe Katsuki can’t tell him everything. A confession while they’re
both still healing from the trauma of war would be wildly misplaced. Inappropriate even. But
at the very least he won't hide how much Izuku means to him. Not anymore. He owes Izuku
that much.

The pause drags on so long that Katsuki feels close to panicking. Izuku’s expressive eyes
hide nothing, and yet Katsuki can’t be certain what he’s seeing in them now. Is it confusion?
Irritation? Disgust? Izuku’s pretty pink lips part and close several times.

“But,” he says, after what must be a small eternity later. “But you kept it. All these years
you…”

Katsuki can’t bring himself to look at him. It breaks his heart that Izuku doesn’t know, but
who’s fault is that? Katsuki takes in a steadying breath through his nose, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, roughly. “I pushed you away because of my own stupid insecurities and
it wasn’t fair, but I… I always… cared about you. In my own fucked up way, I guess.”

“You hated me,” Izuku says, softly.

“No,” Katsuki presses, squeezing Izuku’s hand tight. “I hated how weak you made me feel. I
hated how you were strong in ways I never was. I hated how someone who was quirkless,
who was supposed to be beneath me could make me feel inferior because of… how heroic
you’ve always been.”

“Kacchan…”

“Look, I know it’s stupid,” Katsuki says, forcing himself to look at Izuku now. Hoping the
sincerity is plain on his face. “I had my own issues and instead of working on them, I took it
all out on you,” Katsuki takes a deep breath “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m really fucking sorry. But I
never hated you.”

Izuku is crying, which Katsuki hates, but at least Katsuki knows these aren’t unhappy tears.
Izuku smiles at him and it’s like a Detroit Smash right in Katsuki’s gut.

“Really?” Izuku asks, quiet and disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, nodding shallowly. He touches Izuku’s face, brushing away a tear.
“Really.”

“I never hated you either,” Izuku says, unbearably soft. “I mean. I hated some things about
you. I hated how mean you could be. But I always loved you more than I hated you.”

Katsuki’s breath hitches. Stupid, sappy, sentimental nerd. But the words are such potent relief
that Katsuki feels like he can properly breathe for the first time in his life. A heavy weight
has been lifted from his shoulders and sweet warmth rushes over his skin. It’s so much more
than Katsuki can ever possibly deserve that Katsuki feels a little broken with it. His eyes are
watering, but if Katsuki is going to cry in front of anyone, it’s going to be Izuku.

“Me too,” Katsuki admits, quietly. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
Izuku nuzzles in closer, pressing his forehead to Katsuki’s.

“Don’t do it again,” he says.

“Okay,” Katsuki agrees easily.

“Okay,” Izuku echoes. And then, “I missed you.”

Katsuki huffs, his laugh a soft sound of disbelief.

“Missed you too,” he says. The tears do fall now. Izuku’s arms wind around him, tucking
himself into the crook of Katsuki’s shoulder and nuzzling into his throat. “Missed you a lot.”

Izuku hums against Katsuki’s skin and Katsuki clings to him. He’s the goddamn luckiest
person on the planet. Izuku should hate him. He should be desperate to push Katsuki away,
not be inviting him into his arms and— and missing him. What has Katsuki ever done to
deserve this? He clutches onto Izuku desperately and he’s never, ever letting him go.

They’re released from the hospital forty-eight hours later. Katsuki can’t wait to get into his
own fucking bed again back at the dorms. God knows those horrible hospital mattresses were
fuckin up his spine.

Katsuki and Izuku come back to a fucking surprise party of all things. (“You goddamn idiots,
you shouldn’t be fucking scaring people who just had heart surgery!”) Every square inch of
the room is decorated with streamers and photos of their faces and printed-out news articles
about their heroic deeds. Sato has baked them a seven-layer cake, and Momo has even used
some of her precious lipids to make confetti in the colors of their hero costumes. Just about
everyone wants to hug them, which is annoying, but Izuku glows under the attention (and
cries, obviously). Katsuki is overstimulated in less than three minutes, but generously
indulges all of them with his presence, and himself to three slices of Sato’s cake. Just about
everyone has something complimentary to say.

“It was like the coolest shit ever!” Kaminari gushes. “Everyone thought Kacchan was a total
goner, but then bam! He gets up like it’s nothing and takes down the baddest bad in history!”

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“I just finished him off,” he says, through a mouthful of cake. “Couldn’t have done it without
everyone else wearing him down first. Izuku took down the real threat.”

The room suddenly goes silent. Multiple people’s heads whip around to gape at him.
Someone has the audacity to gasp comically loudly. Katsuki bristles.

“What? I know the value of teamwork, you dumb shits!” Katsuki snaps.
“Oh thank god,” Kirishima says, holding a hand over his heart. “I thought you might have
brain damage.”

Katsuki shouts abuse at him for being so fucking ridiculous, spewing cake everywhere as he
does, but their friends only laugh, looking visibly relieved. Izuku smiles at him with the
softest, warmest eyes Katsuki has ever seen.

Katsuki is grateful when the party winds down, and people start migrating toward their dorms
to prepare for their busy day tomorrow. Classes are suspended at UA for the time being and
instead, the students have been enlisted to clean up and restore the city after all the damage it
had suffered during the war. Helping the common people, helping build shelters for the
unhoused, distributing meals, clearing out debris, and repairing roads. Real hero shit. Usually
Katsuki would think it all sounds beyond tedious, but truthfully he could use the change of
pace. Not that he’ll be out on the field right away. Izuku and Katsuki still have two weeks of
mandated bed-rest on doctors' orders. He sees Izuku yawn and makes an executive decision.

“Come on,” Katsuki says, clapping a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Bed time.”

Izuku nods sleepily. “Okay, Kacchan.”

Izuku holds on to the corner of Katsuki’s shirt as he follows him toward the dorms. They pad
through the hallways quietly. It’s so strange to be back in this place after all this time. It
should feel familiar, like home even. But Katsuki can’t help but feel like everything is
different now. He is different now. He’s returned, but this place can’t ever be the same
because Katsuki isn’t the same. The thought sits uncomfortably in Katsuki’s gut.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, when Katsuki stops in front of the door to Izuku’s dorm.

“Yeah?” Katsuki asks, gruffly.

“When you… when you said that— that thing about not being able to do something on my
own,” Izuku begins, shyly. “You... You mean that right?”

Katsuki snorts. “Do I ever say shit I don’t mean?”

Izuku gives him a knowing little grin. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I meant it,” Katsuki confirms, quietly.

Izuku purses his lips.

“I know we’re not in the hospital anymore,” Izuku says. “But I… I really don’t think I can
sleep on my own right now.”

Oh thank god. The relief feels like a tidal wave hitting Katsuki square in the chest. Secretly,
he’d hoped for this, of course, but he never dared to let himself believe he’d actually get it.
This new intimacy between them feels precious and delicate. Like it can be snatched away
from Katsuki at any moment.

“Come to my room,” Katsuki says. “I’m not sleepin’ in your creepy All Might shrine.”
“It’s not creepy,” Izuku huffs. “You have just as much All Might merch as I do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have it all starin’ at me in the same place I jack off,” Katsuki counters.

“He can’t see it if I do it under the covers Kacchan!”

Katsuki laughs so hard that he almost pisses himself and the triumphant grin on Izuku’s face
makes his body warm and fingertips tingle. They shower and brush their teeth; Izuku quickly
darts back downstairs to change into pajamas in his own dormitory before rejoining Katsuki
in his dorm room. Izuku is awfully fidgety as he crawls into bed with Katsuki. Goddamnit, all
that sugar better not make his nightmares worse. Katsuki will strangle Sato himself. Katsuki
sighs and sets up his laptop, searching for the corniest, cheesiest comfort movie he can find
just in case.

Izuku hasn’t stopped staring at him. Katsuki turns to look at him sharply.

“What?” Katsuki demands.

Izuku’s mouth twists into a funny little line.

“This isn’t weird, right?” Izuku asks. “Me, being here?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You’re always weird. I’m used to it.”

Izuku sticks his tongue out at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Who cares if it’s weird?” Katsuki asks. He opens Netflix and starts scrolling. “We saved all
of fucking Japan. I think we’re allowed to be weird.”

“We?” Izuku asks with a mischievous pop of his brow.

“How many times do I gotta tell you we’re in this shit together?” Katsuki snaps. “You want it
written out? Do I gotta spell it out in the sky for you?”

Izuku half-shrugs, looking terribly amused. “Would you?”

“No,” Katsuki lies, turning away from him. He feels the back of his neck burning with his
blush. “Now make yourself useful and tell me which one of these god-awful movies is gonna
put you to sleep the fastest.”

Izuku picks a rom-com of all things. Some Korean drama where the leading lady has a quirk
where whoever she kisses is compelled to tell her the truth. It looks stupid, and is stupid,
Katsuki realizes about forty-seconds after turning it on. Everybody is visibly air-brushed and
overacting every line. Whatever. Katsuki can only see half the screen with Izuku’s fluffy head
on his chest anyway.

“I wonder if someone really has a quirk like that,” Izuku ponders aloud, as the main character
starts to despair when her fiancé starts avoiding her kisses.
“Probably,” Katsuki says. “Poor bastard would probably get herpes if they tried to do
anything useful with it, though.”

Izuku giggles and nudges him with his knee. “Gross.”

Two-thirds of the way in, Izuku's commentary peeters out and his breathing becomes deep
and even. Katsuki stays awake, not because he’s invested or anything, that would be fucking
stupid, but he knows the nerd will ask him about it the morning so he might as well.

The climatic scene takes place in the rain. The two impossibly perfect leads look somehow
even more breathtaking with their hair soaked and their clothes sticking to their skin.

“Kiss me,” the actor says, his dubbed-over-voice choked and broken. “Kiss me and you’ll
know it’s true that I’ll love you to my dying days.”

Cheesy, Katsuki thinks. Melodramatic too. Why is she hesitating? It’s not like he can lie to
her if she kisses him. Just get it over with, Jesus.

It’s a very wholesome kiss, made all the more grand and romantic with sweeping orchestral
music and sunlight breaking through the storm clouds the moment their lips meet. Because
that’s how it goes in real life. Katsuki snorts. What a waste of fucking time. Katsuki feels
personally violated by just how corny this shit is.

And yet. Something about their embrace. The way they smile at each other after such a soft,
innocent kiss makes Katsuki’s heart twist in his chest. In-love sparkle, Izuku had said. Of
course, these people are just acting, but Katsuki thinks he can kind of see what he means.
Does Izuku want that with someone one day? Someone who gives him the ‘in-love sparkle?’
Sure, Uraraka doesn’t want him, but Izuku has just saved the nation of Japan. If they’re as
viral as everyone is saying they are, surely Izuku can have just about anyone he wants.

Katsuki is being ridiculous. Izuku is sixteen, and has just survived a war. He should be
focused on recovering, both mentally and physically, and enjoying the peace he’s created.
Everyone’s emotional state is too volatile and fragile to jump into a relationship any time
soon. It’s bound to become unhealthy, codependent even. The best thing for Izuku would be
to go back to as normal a life as possible. It’s terribly selfish, but Katsuki is relieved to think
he has a good few years before Izuku is ready to date anyone.

He shuts the laptop off and sets it on his bedside table. Izuku stirs and complains at the
movement and Katsuki shushes him, petting his hair until he settles. Something in Katsuki’s
chest goes soft as Izuku relaxes against him once again. He strokes his hair, relishing the
feeling of soft locks coiling around his fingers. For now, this is only for Katsuki. And that
will just have to be enough.
Muffled, hurried footsteps. A frantic pounding at his door. Katsuki frowns before he even
opens his eyes.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima is calling through the door, and he pounds on it thrice more.
“Bakugou, wake up! It’s an emergency!”

Katsuki’s head is still heavy from the sleep medication, and more than that, he’s cocooned in
warmth and extremely comfortable. There’s a fluffy head tucked into his throat and a warm
body curled around his own. He groans softly, burying his nose in Izuku’s unruly curls and
breathing in deeply before there’s more banging on his door.

“Bakugou, come on! It’s Midoriya! His door was left wide open last night and he’s not in
there! We think he might have run away again!”

Katsuki jolts awake at his name. Izuku. What had happened? Did he really—? Izuku whines
and clings to the front of Katsuki’s shirt at his sudden movement. Oh, right. The relief leaves
Katsuki boneless and he slumps back with a sigh. Wait. Fuck! He sits up again and throws off
the covers, ignoring the small pitiful sounds of protest from Izuku. Katsuki swings open the
door furiously only to find Kamanari and Kirishima with twin expressions of grave concern.

“Morons, keep your fucking voices down,” Katsuki hisses.

“But Midoriya—” Kirishima begins.

“He’s fine,” Katsuki cuts him off. “Now get out of here so he can get some fucking sleep,
alright?”

“Oh thank god,” Kirishima says, holding a hand over his chest and shoulders sagging with
relief. Kaminari eyes him suspiciously.

“He’s in there with you?” Kaminari asks. It feels like a loaded question.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says. He feels his skin heat with embarrassment and it’s fucking annoying.
“What about it?”

Kirishima’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair. Kaminari and him exchange a look. Katsuki grits
his teeth.

“Do you fuckwads need anything else?” Katsuki grouses.

“No, nope, nah,” Kaminari says, backing off with his hands raised. Katuski doesn’t miss the
way he purses his lips strangely; Kirishima’s amusement is barely concealed.

“Great,” Katsuki says, flatly. He slams the door on their faces harder than he means to. Izuku
jolts in the bed and whines.

“Being so loud,” Izuku complains, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Sorry,” Katsuki mutters. “Goddamn extras always in my fucking business.”

 “Huh?” Izuku says, obviously only half awake. He yawns.

He looks good like this, Katsuki thinks. Soft with sleep, freckled cheeks marred with red-
indents, his viridian curls bright against the stark black of Katsuki’s bedsheets. It makes
Katsuki’s stomach do backflips. The picture of him sleepy and comfortable in Katsuki’s room
is just so domestic. So right . The affection within Katsuki is so intense it feels like a raging,
ravenous beast rattling inside his ribcage. Katsuki pulls over his black-out curtains.

“Nothin’,” Katsuki reassures him. He leans over the bed, pulling the blanket back up over
Izuku’s shoulders and patting it down. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Mmmm,” Izuku says, yawning once again. He grabs for him blindly, his hand fisting in the
front of Katsuki’s shirt. “Y’ sure?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki says. He indulges himself, carding his fingers through Izuku’s soft fluffy
curls and picking through the tangles. Izuku tugs at his shirt insistently. “What?”

Izuku huffs. His bottom lip protrudes slightly and he’s so fucking cute it should be illegal. He
cracks open one eye to peek at him.

“You’re on bedrest too, Kacchan,” Izuku reminds him.

Katsuki snorts. “Alright.”

He slides into bed with Izuku, curling his arms around his shoulders and holding him close.
Izuku hooks a leg over his waist and Katsuki feels a pulse of arousal. Don’t , he orders
himself. He can’t go there. This isn’t sexual, it’s not even romantic; it’s just because Izuku
needs him and Katsuki is determined to be whatever Izuku requires. Izuku presses his cheek
to Katsuki’s chest and sighs in deep contentment.

“Thank you,” Izuku whispers.

“Just sleep, moron,” Katsuki says, and mercifully Izuku obeys.

Chapter End Notes

thank you so much for reading and please, PLEASE leave a comment if you enjoyed it

❤️❤️
really helps me stay motivated to keep writing!! come say hi to me at @gabbkdk on
twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr!! love you thank you !!
 the vow
Chapter Notes

just a note that there is a depiction of a panic attack in this chapter if that's something
that is triggering to you just beware !!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

In a way, it almost feels like they’re under house arrest again. All of the other students come
and go as they please, and are all kept plenty busy participating in the restoration efforts.
Every single one of them is needed somewhere: whether it’s clearing debris, building
temporary shelters for the unhoused, or working to keep people fed and clothed, they all have
somewhere to be. Izuku and Katsuki have to wait for the doctor’s approval before
participating in any strenuous activity and every single one of their friends has been informed
to keep an eye on them to enforce this.

Aizawa comes down to lecture them about not leaving campus, either. Apparently they’ve
gone so viral that the media is hounding the school for any word from either of them, and any
sudden appearances could send the press into a frenzy. Aizawa advises that they stay indoors
as much as they can. Which is fine. Katsuki is surprised that he doesn’t really mind being
forced to stay inside and out of sight. He supposes nearly dying forces you to relax about
small inconveniences like that. And besides, Izuku has a million ideas of how to keep them
occupied.

“Do you remember this game?” Izuku asks, eyes bright with excitement as he boots up his
ancient GameCube. They have it hooked up to the TV in the common room and are getting
ready to play now that breakfast is finished.

“I remember you suckin’ at it,” Katsuki allows. Izuku glares at him and he screws up his face
in indignation as he chucks a throw pillow at Katsuki’s head. Katsuki deflects it with his
elbow, grinning.

“Well you’re going to help me beat it,” Izuku says, huffily. He hits Start and selects the first
save slot titled ‘BKDK.’ Katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair.

“Is that our old save file?” he asks, incredulously.

Izuku sends him a bashful look. “Maybe.”

“Sap,” Katsuki accuses, but he settles on the couch right next to Izuku, close enough that
their thighs squish together. Izuku hands him a controller with a smug little grin.

It takes them an embarrassing amount of time to remember how to use the controls, and they
end up having to start a new game altogether to replay the tutorial and refresh themselves.
Soon enough though they’re laughing and cursing at each other.

“You’re doing that shit on purpose!” Katsuki roars. The Game Over screen blares at them
meanly.

“I’m not, I’m not!” Izuku cries.

“That’s the third time you’ve died right there!” Katsuki protests.

“It’s hard!”

“No it fucking isn’t! Watch this,” Katsuki says, snatching the controller out of his hands.

He scowls furiously as he tries to concentrate, but he’s uncomfortably aware of Izuku’s eyes
on him. What the fuck? Dumbass should be paying attention to the screen so he gets this
platforming puzzle right. Here comes the tricky part now, all Katsuki has to do is dodge the
fire-ball, jump over the gap and—

And he dies in the exact same spot Izuku did. In the exact same way. Izuku laughs so hard
that he keels over and rolls off the couch.

“Okay, maybe it’s hard,” Katsuki mutters. Izuku chokes on his cackling, going red in the face
and wheezing.

Maybe it should be weird, but in some ways it feels like no time has passed at all. Izuku still
sucks at video games, just like Katsuki remembers, and always giggles when his failures
inevitably drag Katsuki down with him. Which should be frustrating (and it is, goddamn it,
Katsuki spent twenty minutes grinding to get them both to ninety-nine lives and Izuku wastes
a fourth of them in a single level. If they were facing these platforming challenges in real life,
Izuku would have less difficulty with it. He’s coordinated in actual battle, so why isn’t that
translating to this game made for literal children?), but it’s also fun. A lot of fun actually.
Maybe too much fun, because by the time the extras have come home from the restoration
efforts, he feels strangely exhausted and his cheeks ache from smiling so much. Kirishima
hunches over the head of the couch and squints at the screen.

“All Might Super Smash?” he asks. He’s got soot all over his face and his mask is cracked. “I
always preferred Crimson Riot Bash and Crash.”

Katsuki and Izuku swivel to glare at him as one.

“Fuck you,” they say in unison.

Katsuki jolts in surprise. He almost gives himself whiplash as his gaze snaps back to Izuku.

“Did you just say ‘fuck you’?” Katsuki asks, incredulously.

Izuku shrugs shyly.

“You’re a bad influence on me,” Izuku answers, a blush dusting his cheeks pink.

Katsuki has never loved a creature on this earth the way he loves Izuku at this moment. It’s a
good thing all these extras are around or else Katsuki might have just tackled him right there
and kissed his dirty little mouth. Kirishima’s snort breaks him out of his reverie.

“Wow, Midoriya, saving the world really changed you!” Kirishima says, rubbing Izuku’s
curls good-naturedly.

“You slackers having fun?” Uraraka teases, pulling off her visor and shaking out her sweaty
hair. Izuku leaps to his feet to give her a hug and is quickly swept into following her to the
kitchen as he asks her about her day. Kirishima takes Izuku’s place on the couch beside
Katsuki, sighing in relief as he relaxes into the cushions. He turns his head to shoot Katsuki a
grin.

“You look happy,” Kirishima comments.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki advises.

Kaminari appears out of fucking nowhere to drop his head onto Katsuki’s shoulder, wedging
himself between the two of them and making obnoxious kissy-noises right into Katsuki’s ear.

“Kacchan’s in loooove,” he sing-songs.

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki hisses, seizing him in a headlock. Kaminari squawks as he’s
half-dragged over the head of the couch and chokes. “He could fucking hear you!”

Katsuki quickly glances at Izuku, but thankfully he is busy belly-laughing with Uraraka and
patting Todoroki’s shoulder with an oh you sort of expression on his face. Thank fucking god.
Katsuki rounds on Kaminari, who is going slightly purple in his grasp.

“You cut that shit out right now,” Katsuki seethes.

“Geez, Bakugou, relax!” Kirishima laughs. He pats Katsuki’s arm until his grip loosens and
Kaminari sputters as he inhales raggedly. “He’s just teasing you!”

“I know what he’s doing and it’s not fucking funny,” Katsuki insists.

“And yet you’re not denying it,” Kaminari says, still somewhat wheezy as he rubs his neck.
Katsuki’s palms crackle to life, arm raised and ready to seize Kaminari’s face and singe his
eyebrows off when Izuku’s voice breaks through to him.

“Kacchan!” he calls, bright and merry. “Todoroki-kun is ordering pizza for our first night
back! Meatlovers is still your favorite, right?”

“Meatlovers,” Kirishima and Kaminari mutter in tandem. Katsuki thwaps Kirishima upside
the head.

“Yeah, it is,” Katsuki answers and Izuku looks so pleased with himself that he’s practically
sparkling with it. He turns back to thank Todoroki profusely, throwing his arms around him
and squeezing. Todoroki pats his back somewhat uncomfortably and Katsuki’s jaw tightens.
Get your fucking filthy hands off —

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, man,” Kaminari says, because he has a fucking death wish
apparently.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Kirishima adds with a knowing grin. Katsuki growls and curls his
hands into fists.

“We’re not fucking talking about this when he’s in the room,” Katsuki hisses, as quietly as he
can.

Kaminari makes a zipping motion across his lips and then mimes locking it and flicking away
the key.

“Your secret is safe with me, Bakugou!” Kirishima says, happily pumping his fist.

But of course. Of fucking course, at that moment Mina had to bound over to talk to them.

“Secret?” she repeats. “What secret? I love secrets!”

“There’s no secret!” Katsuki snaps. Goddamn it, he hasn’t even been back in the dorms for
twenty-four hours and already Mina has caught wind of his stupid crush on Izuku. He’s so
fucking screwed. And there’s no way Kirishima is gonna do a good job keeping it from her
when they’ve been making googly eyes at each other all year.

Mina raises her eyebrows at him. She shifts her stance, placing her hands on her hips.

“Sounds to me like it’s your secret,” she says, and Kirishima and Kaminari titter like it’s the
funniest fucking thing in the world. She gasps, looking between them all. “It is, isn’t it!”

“You!” Katsuki fumes. Okay, fuck this is quickly spiraling out of his control. Little crackling
explosions dance over his palms as he rages. “I can’t— you don’t—”

“Hey, hey, let’s go easy on him guys,” Kirishima says, as if this isn’t all his fucking fault for
being such a ridiculous blabber mouth. “He doesn’t wanna talk about it so we won’t talk
about it.”

All three of them look at Katsuki expectantly. Katsuki closes his eyes. He forces himself to
breathe the way his therapist has been teaching him to when his rage threatens to boil over.
He curls and uncurls his fists, willing them to cool down.

“I’m going to kill all of you,” Katsuki vows.

They all laugh uproariously. Kirishima and Kaminari grab his shoulders and jostle him back
and forth. Mina claps her hands in delight.

“Oh I really have missed that terrible attitude of yours!” she coos.
His friends abandon him to go shower before the pizza arrives and thank fucking god for that.
Katsuki can’t believe he’d been stupid enough to miss those fuckers. All they do is make his
life more complicated. As soon as they’re alone again, Izuku pads over to him, leaning over
the couch and throwing his arms around his neck.

“It’s good to be home,” Izuku says.

“I guess,” Katsuki grumbles, leaning into his touch.

Pizza night goes just about as well as anyone could expect. Todoroki has grossly
overestimated just how much pizza everyone can eat and no-less than sixty boxes show up at
Class 1-A’s dorm. He had to order from three towns over to get a restaurant that was open,
and their delivery boy looks a little worse for wear. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero take all
the excess pizza as a challenge to see who can down the most slices the fastest, and soon
enough everyone has gathered around to watch the spectacle. Mina whips her phone out to
record and money is exchanged as everyone places their bets. Katsuki expects Iida to step in
and declare the whole thing a waste of time and precious resources, but to his surprise Iida
only wheels out a giant whiteboard that he must keep in his room and offers to keep score.

Katsuki watches from a distance, reclining against the wall with his hands stuffed in his
pockets as Uraraka uses a dish towel as a flag to start the races and the madness ensues. He
doesn’t notice Izuku has approached until he bumps him with his shoulder.

“Who’s your money on?” Izuku asks.

“Shitty Hair,” Katsuki answers, mostly because that’s what he’s probably supposed to say as
Kirishima’s self proclaimed ‘number one bro.’

Izuku snorts.

“What?” Katsuki demands, turning to look at him.

“You’re just saying that because he’s your best friend,” Izuku accuses.

What the fuck? Can Izuku read minds? Has that been the secret quirk he’s been hiding from
Katsuki all these years? No, that’s ridiculous. Katsuki shakes his head dismissively.

“Is it a crime to believe in my friends?” Katsuki challenges.

Izuku shoots him a look.

“No,” he says, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It is cute, though.”

Cute. Katsuki is the strongest man alive for not keeling over right then. He folds his arms
across his chest and hopes Izuku doesn’t notice his ears blushing. Kirishima has five slices
down and there’s already pepperoni stuck in his hair. Kaminari somehow chokes on air as he
scarfs down a fourth.

“I think your affection for your friend is clouding your judgment,” Izuku continues, evenly.
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki says.

“Mhm,” Izuku says. His eyes glitter with mischief.

“Clouding my judgment, how?” Katsuki prods, because obviously he’s going somewhere
with this.

“You’re not taking their quirks into consideration first of all,” Izuku begins, clasping his
hands behind his back.

“Oh I get it,” Katsuki goads with a smirk. “I gotta think more like a shitty nerd, hm?”

“It could help,” Izuku says, lightly.

There’s a burst of applause as Sero suddenly takes the lead. Momo gasps and clutches the
end of her ponytail. Todoroki claps very politely, but Katsuki gets the sense he doesn’t really
know what he’s cheering for.

“What else?” Katsuki says.

“Kirishima chose meatlovers,” Izuku says, gesturing with a nod. “Lots of protein. Harder to
digest. Will fill his stomach faster.”

Katsuki wishes he wasn’t impressed. He hadn’t even thought about the actual pizza being a
factor. He checks Kaminari’s pepperoni versus Sero’s plain cheese and immediately it clicks.

“So your money’s on Sero,” Katsuki concludes. “His quirk requires creation from his body,
thus consuming more calories, and he’s strategically chosen the easiest pizza to get down.”

Izuku beams and flutters his eyelashes.

“I knew you’d catch on,” he says, which is so fucking condescending but also so
unbelievably hot that it feels too big for Katsuki’s body. What the fuck? Is it normal to get
turned on by someone else’s brain? He’ll have to ask Kirishima later.

“Ten slices! Kaminari is at ten slices!” Iida shouts, making a tally on his stupid whiteboard.
Kaminari’s face is beet red and he’s visibly sweating. Katsuki snorts. Serves him right. He
still hasn’t forgiven him for his audaciousness earlier. Kirishima clutches his stomach and
burps loudly.

“This is kind of gross,” Izuku comments.

“Super gross,” Katsuki agrees.

“Go, Kiri!” Mina cheers, jumping up and down, her shrill voice cutting through the
commotion.

“Come on, Kaminari-kun!” Uraraka says, waving her dishtowel up and down frantically. Just
about everyone is shouting someone’s name. Sato must have put a lot of money on someone,
because he fidgets anxiously even as he cheers.
“Did you get enough to eat?” Katsuki asks.

Izuku smiles slowly. “I did.”

Sero chokes suddenly. Everyone gasps. Iida stops his tallying to smack him on the back
harshly. Uraraka quickly shoves a glass of water into his hands and Sero chokes it down,
gasping for air like a man drowning.

“Don’t die!” someone shrieks shrilly.

He isn’t going to die, Katsuki thinks, rolling his eyes. His airways are already cleared. And
besides, all of them have been trained in basic first aid. Katsuki could probably do the
Heimlich in his sleep if he really had to. But it does give Kirishima good amount of time to
take the lead.

“Eleven slices,” Iida continues, considerably less invigorated and his glasses slightly askew.
“Kirishima-kun… eleven slices.”

“Are you tired?” Izuku asks, quietly.

Katsuki nods. “Yeah. Too much noise.”

Izuku hums like he agrees. He gestures toward the dorms with his head.

“Come on then,” he says.

Katsuki turns to look at him then. Izuku is so beautiful; his wide emerald eyes look at him
imploringly and his plush lips are pulled into a secretive little smile.

“You’re the one who likes this shit,” Katsuki reminds him.

“I do,” Izuku admits. “And I’m tired. Take me to bed?”

It’s not an offer Katsuki can refuse.

It’s strange how easy it is. Katsuki had thought there would be some awkwardness, some
adjusting. Some leftover tension between them after everything. No matter how much they
want it, ten years of bullying and distrust between two people doesn’t just vanish overnight.
But in a way, this time together feels like a do-over. Like their stupid saved game slot that
Izuku had kept all these years, their friendship has always been right there, waiting for them
to take it up again when they were ready.

They read comic books in Izuku’s room together, debating which arcs are worse and laughing
about how drastically the art style changes over time. They rewatch movies they haven’t seen
in years and giggle over the terrible CGI effects and corny dialogue. They both need to
practice their fine-motor skills after all the damage their arms have sustained during the war,
and they spend hours making some truly hideous origami. Somehow that devolves into
making paper planes and having a contest to see whose flies the farthest (Katsuki wins,
obviously).

They aren’t allowed to go to the gym, so instead they walk laps around the school. They
wander through corridors they’ve never used before and explore the abandoned classrooms.
Most of it isn’t anything exciting, but they do steal a sealed package of gum from a teacher's
desk and discover someone’s diary, abandoned down a stairwell. Izuku skims it as he chews
his gum and tells Katsuki the juicy bits. Apparently, this girl really has a thing for Todoroki,
which is gross, but Izuku is convinced that it's sweet. They write Todoroki’s number on the
last page and abandon it once again.

“If she comes back for it, it’s fate,” Izuku decides and Katsuki snickers.

Once, Izuku mentions that he misses the shitty pre-packaged brownies they used to split at
the hospital and Katsuki spends the whole afternoon whipping up the best batch of brownies
that’s ever been. Izuku chews on one with a look of deep concentration.

“Well?” Katsuki prods, when Izuku licks his lips and wipes his hands with a paper towel.
Izuku reclines against the counter and folds his arms across his chest.

“It’s pretty good,” Izuku grants him.

“Pretty good?” Katsuki demands, leaning into his space.

Izuku winkles his nose. “Could be better.”

“You little shit,” Katsuki says. Izuku yelps and leaps off the countertop. “You’re fucking
lying! You’re a fucking liar and you know it!”

“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, running from him, even though the doctor has put them under strict
orders not to be running until their medical leave is up. “Kacchan don’t!”

Katsuki seizes him around his waist, lifting him off his feet and Izuku kicks in the air as he
shrieks.

“Don’t! Kacchan! Your stitches!” Izuku cries.

“Say my brownies are the fucking best, nerd!” Katsuki shouts.

“Stop!” Izuku wheezes, laughing wildly. “Seriously! They’re the best! I swear!”
Katsuki doesn’t let go of him, but he does set him back on his feet. He’s trying not to indulge
himself too much, really, but Izuku is just so cute. He’s just so grabbable and just so right
there in front of him that it’s hard to resist. Katstuki swears he’ll get stupid crush under
control when things go back to normal. He thinks the gods will forgive him if he’s a little
indulgent in these rare two weeks of just Katsuki-and-Izuku.

Three days before their bed rest is up, Izuku takes Katsuki by the hand and drags him out of
the dorms. Katsuki thinks he just means to explore the school some more, but today, Izuku
insists they’re on a mission.

“I was talking to Togata-senpai and he says the molten-hero Magma needed to maintain his
body temperature by soaking in super hot water for hours,” Izuku informs him. “So when he
came to UA they built him a hot tub to soak in!”

Katsuki snorts. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Togata-senpai wouldn’t lie to me,” Izuku insists. They march down the stairs, hand in hand.
“And he swears it’s true.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “The guy’s a freak with a twisted sense of humor. He’s obviously
trying to mess with you.”

Izuku sends him a flat look. “Trust me.”

Katsuki would fight him on it harder, but he knows by now just how stubborn Izuku can be
when he really sets his mind to something. And honestly, who cares. It’s not like Katsuki has
anything better to do. Besides, Izuku is holding his hand. Katsuki’s heart flutters when Izuku
squeezes it as they turn the corner and head down the stairs. Katsuki thinks he would go just
about anywhere if Izuku kept holding his hand like that.

“The third years are all out today so it could be our only chance to see it,” Izuku says,
tugging him along. They turn into a dark corridor that Katsuki’s never seen before and pad
down the hall. “Togata-senpai says it’s in their sento.”

Wandering around the school while it’s so abandoned always has a strange sense of unreality
to it. Like it’s a liminal space or a dream, it’s just a bit unsettling. It’s quiet, with only the
sounds of their footsteps against the marble floors breaking the oppressive silence. It really
feels like he and Izuku are the only two people in the world.

Katsuki feels a thrill of danger as they head toward the third-year corridors. Technically, first
and second years aren’t allowed to use the third-year’s sento. It’s bigger and much nicer than
the one for the underclassmen. They make sure to stop and peek before turning every corner
and step as quietly as they can.

Just as they reach the ground floor, they hear the clang, clang, clang of Aizawa’s metal
footsteps approaching. Katsuki nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Quick!” Izuku whispers, tugging on his hand. “Hide!”

They break into a run. Katsuki’s gaze darts everywhere, searching for anything— anywhere
that could hide them. There! A janitor’s closet. It’s been propped open with a mop bucket just
ahead. Izuku breaks their handhold to yank it open and they duck inside, leaving the mop
bucket in place in case this thing locks itself behind them. It’s cramped, and smells like shit,
but they should be safe. They’re breathing hard as they’re forced to crowd together,
crouching low to the ground and pressing up, shoulder-to-shoulder. Izuku makes strange,
hitched little sounds and it takes a moment for Katsuki to realize he’s fighting back laughter.

“Shut up!” Katsuki hisses.

“Sorry!” Izuku whispers. He muffles his giggling with a hand.

Aizawa’s footsteps grow louder as they approach. His voice echoes through the hall, low and
irritated.

“I told you I’m not doing anything on school property,” Aizawa says, irritably. He snorts.
“No, not even that.”

He’s quiet for a beat. Only the hush of their breathing fills the clamped closet air. Aizawa’s
close enough that Katsuki can hear the rustle of his clothes as he walks; he must be right
outside the door.

“Ha,” Aizawa laughs dryly. He sighs. “I doubt love-hotels are high on the priority list for
reconstruction efforts.”

Izuku gasps through his nose. Katsuki elbows him sharply to keep him quiet.

Aizawa’s voice fades as he continues down the hall.

“I think you should learn some patience, Hizashi,” Aizawa says, in what can only be
described as a flirtatious tone. Oh my fucking god. Katsuki gags. Izuku clamps both hands
over his mouth, a strained noise of shock just barely repressed. Katsuki could strangle him.

“Shut. Up,” Katsuki mouths. Izuku nods furiously and buries his face in his hands.

Aizawa laughs again and the sound of his heavy footsteps fade. They wait several beats
before Katsuki stands and risks poking his head out. The coast is clear. He sighs with relief.

“Oh my god,” Izuku breathes, still crouched low to the floor. “Oh my god?”

“That was fucking disgusting,” Katsuki agrees. He helps Izuku to his feet. Izuku is gaping,
one hand sliding down his jaw. He looks up at Katsuki, emerald eyes wide and full of
disbelief.

“Did he say—” Izuku begins. “ Present Mic? ”

Katsuki startles. “What?”

“Hizashi, that’s his first name,” Izuku explains. Katsuki retches.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spits. Thinking about one professor needing a love-hotel was one
thing, but two of them? The images that flash through Katsuki’s mind are beyond horrifying.
He needs to douse his brain in bleach.

Izuku’s body lurches with laughter. He grabs Katsuki’s bicep and shakes him.

“I can’t believe we just heard that!” Izuku cries in a half-whisper. “Oh god, that’s so— And
the two of them—I never would have guessed. No one is going to believe me!”

Katsuki would have been perfectly happy to shut up about the whole thing and pretend they
never discovered any of this, but somehow Izuku’s breathless giggling about it has Katsuki
grinning against his will.

“Can’t believe Boombox gets anyone with that stupid little mustache of his,” Katsuki says,
wrinkling his nose.

“Right?” Izuku cries. He cackles as he gives Katsuki’s bicep a squeeze. “It probably tickles
when they—“

“Stop,” Katsuki cuts him off. “Don’t even go there.”

“I was going to say kiss, Kacchan!”

“Like that makes it any better!”

They bicker about it playfully as they finally arrive at the third years’ sento. The air is warm
and humid here and they toe off their slippers as they creep inside. It is definitely much more
spacious than their own, with high, sloped ceilings and the tiling whiter than Katsuki ever
thought possible. At least they know it’s clean. It’s predictably empty, but Izuku breathes a
sigh of relief anyway.

“Come on, come on,” he says, urging Katsuki forward and hurrying to explore.

“Idiot, slow down, you’ll slip!” Katsuki snaps.

Izuku only giggles. There is a sectioned off space in the corner of the sento, made into its
own separate room by glass-paneled walls. Izuku rushes over.

“This is it, Kacchan!” Izuku says, excitedly. “It has to be!”

Izuku opens the door, and sure enough, inside is a square-shaped jacuzzi with water-jets and
everything. Katsuki’s jaw drops; Izuku shoots him a triumphant grin.

“I told you it was real,” he says, all too smugly.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Oh, whatever.”

“Admit it!” Izuku demands. “Admit that I was right!”

Katsuki only grunts, but Izuku seems satisfied with it. The jacuzzi takes up most of the room,
but there are still shelves full of fluffy white towels lining the walls. There’s the faint scent of
chlorine and somehow the air feels extra heavy and humid with it. Izuku examines the edging
of the tub. He finds a control panel and with a press of a button the water roils to life. Izuku
grins wickedly.

“Come on,” Izuku says, tugging his shirt over his head.

Katsuki makes a strangled sound. God fucking damn, the back muscles on Izuku. He is
rippled and defined, even after a month of inactivity. Sweet Jesus. Katsuki turns away before
his dick can get the wrong idea.

“Izuku,” Katsuki says, but his protest sounds weak even to his own ears.

“We didn’t come all this way just to look at it, Kacchan,” Izuku says, impatiently.

Katsuki makes it a point to look at Izuku as little as possible as they strip. This is ridiculous.
He’s seen Izuku naked before. What makes this any different? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Katsuki allows himself to risk one, singular peek. The powerful, chorded muscle of Izuku’s
thighs tense as he peels off his boxers and what the fuck his ass has dimples . Katsuki snaps
his gaze away sharply, flushing all the way up to his ears.

They sink into the hot water with harmonizing sighs. Holy shit, the hot water is actually
fucking heavenly. Already Katsuki can feel the knots in his back loosening, the stress and
tension of several months of war melting off of him as he soaks. Okay, maybe he really
needed this. He hadn’t realized just how much tension he’d been holding until the heat and
pressure of the churning water started beating it out of him.

“Oh wow,” Izuku breathes as he relaxes. “This is amazing.”

Katsuki can only hum his agreement and Izuku giggles. The heat permeates through
Katsuki’s flesh and he sinks lower, lower until only his face is above the water.

Katsuki isn’t sure how long they spend like that. Long enough that Katsuki’s limbs start to
feel jello-y and his fingers prune. Long enough that the jets turn off on their own and they
both rush to smack it back on again immediately. Izuku jolts as their hands brush on the
control panel.

“Sorry,” he says, slinking back and retreating to the far end of the hot-tub.

Katsuki frowns. “What for?”

Izuku shakes his head. He fully submerges himself underwater, air bubbling up after him.
Idiot. He should be keeping his fucking mouth closed. Who knows how many disgusting
bodies have been in this water? Izuku sits up with a splash, wiping the excess water out of his
eyes.
“Kacchan?” Izuku says. He suddenly sounds nervous. “Can I… Can I ask you something?
Something important?”

Katsuki’s heart starts to pound sluggishly. His blood pressure must have dropped significantly
while soaking in the hot water, and the sensation is strange and uncomfortable. He nods
slowly.

Izuku looks up at him through damp eyelashes. His wet curls are plastered to his face as he
chews on his bottom lip.

“It’s.. it’s about the footage,” Izuku continues, words careful and deliberate. “Of our fights
during the war.”

Oh. Right. Katsuki feels a pang of embarrassment. Why had he even thought—? It doesn’t
matter. He shakes it off and clears his throat.

“Okay,” Katsuki says, gruffly. “What about it?”

“I know Aizawa-sensei said we shouldn’t watch it,” Izuku goes on. He taps his index fingers
together and resolutely doesn’t look at him. “But we should, right? I mean eventually.”

“I guess,” Katsuki says. “I don’t see how, though.”

After getting new phones from their parents, the first thing the school did was confiscate
them and install software to block Izuku and Katsuki from accessing news outlets and video-
streaming services. It was for their own good, Aizawa had said. At least for now. The school
didn’t want them retraumatizing themselves with the footage while they were still recovering.
That, and apparently just about every news outlet in the world had something to say about
them. If left to their own devices, they might spend hours reading it all instead of focusing on
their recovery and put themselves through a whole lot of unnecessary stress. Katsuki had
protested; wasn’t part of being a hero learning how to handle media attention? Aizawa had
shaken his head.

“This is different,” Aizawa had said. “This isn’t like any press-coverage I’ve seen before.
You’re still only students. And you two have been through enough as it is. Focus on getting
better and we’ll talk about how to handle it when you’re ready.”

It really had been for the best. Just last week Izuku had caught sight of a thumbnail over
Kirishima’s shoulder as he tried to show him a Youtube video, and Izuku had flinched from it
like he’d been struck. It had taken him ages to fall asleep that night, and when he did finally
manage to drift off, his nightmares were worse. Katsuki had given Kirishima an earful about
it later.

“I don’t want to watch it anytime soon,” Izuku clarifies. He skims the surface of the water
with his pruney fingers. “But… eventually.”

Katsuki understands. Memories of his battle with All For One and Shigaraki are hazy,
clouded with the fog of adrenaline and choppy as he had flitted in and out of consciousness.
In some ways, it feels like everybody knows more about what actually happened than they
did, even though they’re the ones who had actually lived it.

Izuku looks up at him with those huge, pleading eyes.

“Would… would you watch it with me?” Izuku asks, quietly. “Whenever we’re both ready?”

Katsuki sags with relief. Even if he’s annoyed that Izuku looks so unsure. He’d said he’d take
care of the things he can’t, didn’t he? What’s it going to take for Izuku to believe him?
Maybe Katsuki should consider writing it in the sky, if only to get his fucking point across.

“Of course,” Katsuki answers, firmly. “When we’re both ready.”

Izuku breaks into a sunny smile. He leans toward him, cheeks flushed with hot water and
eyes sparkling. Katsuki’s heart thuds against his ribcage.

“Thank you,” Izuku says, softly.

You don’t have to thank me, Katsuki thinks as Izuku creeps toward him. Not for this. Not for
being there for you when it matters most. Katsuki desperately wants to say it out loud, but the
words stick in his throat. Being naked and alone with Izuku is making it hard to think about
saying anything really, so he only nods. Izuku settles on the bench beside him and rests his
damp curly head on Katsuki’s shoulder.

Their legs are wobbly and dark-spots crowd the corners of Katsuki’s vision as they finally
manage to pry themselves out of the tub. Izuku almost slips as he reaches for a towel and
Katsuki throws out his arm to steady him, wrapping it around Izuku’s shoulders and tugging
him close.

“Be careful,” Katsuki growls.

Izuku is bright red and refuses to look at him. He slips out of Katsuki’s grip and snatches up a
towel, burying his face in it and drying himself vigorously.

“S-sorry, Kacchan,” he mutters.

Much later, when their classmates have returned to the dorms, Izuku sits with Mina, Uraraka,
and Sero in the common room as he excitedly recounts what they’d overheard Aizawa saying
in the hall.

“No way,” Sero says, grinning evilly.

“Oh my god!” Mina cries, clasping her hands over her heart. “They’re in love!”

Uraraka shoots her an amused look.

“Well, not necessarily,” Uraraka says wryly. Mina sticks her tongue out at her.

“They’re probably in love,” Izuku argues. His eyes are alight with mischief. “I mean, he used
his given name and everything!”
Katsuki overhears everything from the kitchen as he slices up bell peppers for their dinner.
His heart is a sweet, sappy thing in his chest as he watches Izuku throw his head back and
laugh. He looks so carefree. So wonderfully bright as he’s surrounded by friends and
chattering about something trivial. Katsuki wishes he was happy like this all the time. He
thinks of how hollow-eyed Izuku looks after a nasty nightmare and his stomach sours.

Kaminari slides up beside him, elbowing him with a sly look on his face.

“Hey lover boy,” he says. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Nothing for you,” Katsuki says shortly. He brings the knife down hard.

“Awww, Kacchan,” Kaminari pouts. He leans his cheek onto Katsuki’s shoulder. “Pretty
please?”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says, as kindly as possible.

Kaminari sinks his weight into him further, huffing and crying fake little sobs. Katsuki
growls in irritation, but he’s not stupid enough to shove him off with a fucking knife in his
hand. Kaminari must know this because he cackles as he nuzzles into his shoulder.

“Oh! Kacchan!” Izuku's voice comes suddenly. “Did you need help with that?”

Katsuki looks up, but Izuku is already at his side. Katsuki frowns. Did he use One for All to
get himself here that fast? Izuku smiles up at him hopefully.

“Well, hello to you too, Midoriya,” Kaminari says, sounding positively devious. He should
really knock it the fuck off when Katsuki has a weapon in his hands. He does take a step back
though and some of the tension drains out of Katsuki’s shoulders.

“Hi, Kaminari-kun!” Izuku says brightly. He steps in between the two of them, taking
Kaminari’s place and pressing his cheek to Katsuki’s shoulder, holding onto his bicep as
Katsuki keeps slicing. “Did you hear about Aizawa-sensei?”

Izuku recounts the story to him and Kaminari laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever
heard as Katsuki finishes up dinner. He serves Izuku a plate before adding chili oil to his own
portion and Izuku thanks him profusely. Kaminari watches on, forlorn.

“Can’t I have just a tiny little bite?” Kaminari whines, holding his fingers up in a pinch.

“No,” Katsuki says at the same time Izuku says, “Sure!”

Katsuki and Izuku exchange a glance. Izuku’s shrug is sheepish.

“Well, I mean, Kacchan’s the one who cooked,” Izuku amends bashfully.

Kaminari bats his eyelashes and pouts up at Katsuki. Katsuki wrinkles his nose; that shit is
only cute when Izuku does it. Katsuki turns to Izuku then.
“You’re not gonna be hungry later?” Katsuki asks. Izuku shakes his head with a smile and
Katsuki shrugs. “I guess you can have whatever’s leftover, Dunce Face.”

“Wow, okay, favoritism much,” Kaminari jokes. Katsuki shoots him a death glare, but
Kaminari only grins.

Izuku tugs on the bottom of Katsuki’s shirt as they all sit at the countertop together.

“Thanks for cooking,” he whispers.

“You’re on dish duty,” Katsuki replies. Izuku beams.

“Of course!”

Aizawa calls them into his office the morning their medical leave is up. Everyone else has
already headed out to their assigned places in the restoration efforts. Aizawa’s office is
cluttered with loose files scattered everywhere and crumpled up energy drink cans on the
floor. His sleeping bag is half tucked under his desk and a picture of Aizawa with Present
Mic’s arm slung around his shoulders is hung up on the wall. Katsuki and Izuku exchange a
glance. Izuku’s lips purse and he clears his throat uncomfortably.

Stop, Katsuki thinks, glowering at him. Izuku can’t make him laugh right now, he can’t.
Aizawa sighs and half-sits on his desk rather than sitting behind it.

“Alright, problem children,” Aizawa says. Somehow, he looks even more haggard than usual.
There’s a prominent silver streak glittering in his black-bun and the circles under his eyes are
deep and plum-colored. “We’re going to let you off school property, but if any media
personnel approach you, you answer ‘no comment’, do you hear me?”

Katsuki tches. Izuku nods obediently.

“Bakugou,” Aizawa warns, dragging out his name. “Are you listening?”

“No comment,” Katusuki repeats, not bothering to hide his irritation. Izuku chokes down his
laugh.

Aizawa sighs heavily.

“Midoriya will be assigned to subsection A-5, where you’ll be using your super strength to
clear out debris from a car pile-up,” Aizawa says, leaning over his desk to place a green pin
on the map. The city has been highlighted and divided into subsections with red tape.
“Bakugou, you’ll be in subsection E-6, clearing out a fallen skyscraper and breaking the
building up into moveable pieces with your explosions.”

Aizawa’s hand drags all the way to the far end of the map, where he places a second, orange
pin. Katsuki’s stomach sinks. No, he can’t be seeing this right. What the fuck? Why the hell
have they been assigned so far apart from one another? They’re literally on opposite sides of
the map.

“This is ridiculous,” Katsuki snaps. “Fuck that, I’m going with Izuku to clear out that car
pile-up.”

Izuku visibly brightens and Aizawa frowns.

“You’ll go where I assign you,” Aizawa says, shortly. He folds his arms across his chest.
“We’re all very grateful for your contributions to ending the war, Bakugou, but you’re still
my students and you will follow my instructions.”

Katsuki scowls. “But—”

Aizawa holds up a hand to silence him and Katsuki bites back a growl. Aizawa sighs heavily.

“You both know just how much media attention you’ve both gotten since the war ended,”
Aizawa goes on. “We have set up checkpoints and perimeters that should keep most of the
press in line, but you two being put out in the field is only going to invigorate them. And that
will be harder to manage if we put you two in the same spot. Separating you is for your own
protection.”

Katsuki grits his teeth. “Like I need protection from—”

“And besides,” Aizawa continues as if Katsuki hadn’t spoken. “You and Midoriya have two
of the most powerful quirks in your class. You’ll be much more useful to everyone right now
if you divide and conquer.”

Katsuki snaps his gaze over to Izuku. “Are you okay with this shit?”

Izuku doesn’t look at him. He stares at his hands as they fidget in his lap, his mouth twisting
into an uncomfortable line. No. That’s most definitely not an Izuku that’s ‘okay’ at all.
Katsuki rounds back on Aizawa, inhaling and ready to protest some more when Aizawa
speaks up again.

“You go where I assign you, or you get put back on bedrest,” Aizawa threatens immediately.
Katsuki clamps his mouth shut. Goddammit. His stomach is sick and roiling with anxious
butterflies. He checks the map again. Twenty kilometers doesn’t seem that far away, but what
if there’s an emergency? Will they have telecommunicators that can reach each other or just
ones that connect them to their respective teams?

Aizawa sighs through his nose, the hint of a smile on his face.

“You’re still my problem children, even when you’re getting along,” Aizawa says, almost
sounding fond. “Now behave or I will expel you.”
It’s fine. It should be fine. Katsuki doesn’t know why he thinks it won’t be fine. And yet
there’s a sense of impending doom as he and Izuku make their way to the locker rooms to get
changed. They haven’t been apart for longer than an hour since Katsuki first crawled into
Izuku’s hospital bed and the anticipation of separation feels horrible. Realistically, they
should be sick of each other by now, but Katsuki just… isn’t. Maybe Izuku is, though. Maybe
that’s why he didn’t even try to fight it when they got assigned so far apart. The thought
makes Katsuki’s mouth fill with bitterness. Katsuki scowls as he stuffs his feet into his
chunky combat boots and straps on his knee pads. Izuku pulls on his gloves and adjusts his
belt in unusual silence.

“Kacchan?”

Izuku’s soft, sweet voice cuts through him like a knife. Katsuki has just zipped up his winter
uniform as he turns to meet Izuku’s gaze. Izuku’s eyes are watery and his smile wobbly.

“Is it weird that I’m gonna miss you?” Izuku asks, voice cracking.

Katsuki wants to laugh. He almost breaks into a sob. Fuck, it’s such a relief to hear him say
it. Katsuki blinks back the tears forcefully. He blames the PTSD and all the war bullshit for
making him so emotional.

“Get over here,” Katsuki says, gruffly.

Izuku throws himself into his arms and they embrace for long moments. It’s silly and
definitely an overreaction, but it doesn’t stop it from feeling oh-so-fucking right. Katsuki
buries his face in Izuku’s throat and breathes deeply. He smells like vanilla, and chamomile,
and the new, plasticy smell of fresh hero-costume.

“Come back in one piece or I’ll kill you,” Katsuki orders.

Izuku laughs shakily.

“I will if you will,” he says.

It doesn’t feel like enough. Katsuki wants to squeeze him until they’re melded into one being
and their shitty Worm-Professor has no choice but to assign them to the same area.
Eventually they slide out of each other’s arms, though Izuku keeps his fingers curled around
Katsuki’s wrist as they make their way toward the front gates.

Someone must have tipped off the press that they were scheduled to join the restoration
efforts because there's a whole circus of paparazzi waiting for them just beyond campus-
grounds. Lights flash and their voices get louder as Izuku and Katsuki appear. They can’t get
too close with the neon-orange barricades blocking off their path, but it doesn’t stop them
from shouting.

“Deku! Dynamight! Over here! Over here!”

“Mr. Deku! Mr. Deku! How do you feel about the efforts being made to rehabilitate mass-
murderer Shigaraki Tomura?”

“Dynamight! Is it true that All Might has personally mentored both you and Deku?”

“How do you feel about UA cosigning the use of child soldiers?”

“No fucking comment!” Katsuki barks at them. Izuku laughs nervously, squeezing his wrist
and giving the media a polite wave.

They don’t part ways until they absolutely have to and they both hesitate before they do.
Katsuki grits his teeth. This is so fucking stupid. Izuku smiles at him like he understands.

“I’ll see you at six?” Izuku asks, like he’s honestly sure he might not.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, too gruffly to pretend he’s unaffected by everything. “See you later.”

Izuku’s hand slides down to squeeze Katsuki’s before he drops it. He takes a running leap,
charging up One For All and launching himself into the air with a powerful jump. Katsuki
watches him go as anxiety slithers up his throat. His body feels heavy with dread. Why does
feel like he might never see him again? He remembers the last time they were separated, how
Izuku had come back to him half-dead and bruised just about everywhere. No. Stop. Katsuki
shakes his head, trying to banish the thoughts. He’s being irrational; he knows Izuku can take
care of himself. Katsuki’s stomach squirms. Usually.

Izuku’s green blur disappears over the horizon and feels like an anvil dropped in Katsuki’s
gut. His skin is pulled too taut over his body and he’s been punched through the core with
cold, cruel iron. It takes every bit of willpower he can muster to force himself to walk in the
opposite direction of Izuku. His stomach sours as he joins Uraraka, Sato, and Shoji as he
promised.

He feels Izuku’s absence like a missing limb. He tries to lose himself in the work, focusing
on breaking down rubble into movable pieces for Uraraka to float over onto a dump truck,
but he keeps finding himself checking over his shoulder, looking for an Izuku who isn’t there.
Every time he remembers, he grimaces and curses himself.

The hours tick by and Katsuki only gets antsier. All he can think about is Izuku: if he’s
alright, if he’s pushing himself too hard, if he’s eaten yet or if he’s forgotten like an idiot, if
his teammates are looking out for him the way Uraraka, Sato, and Shoji all seem to be
looking out for Katsuki. Probably. Katsuki should have demanded to know just who is on
Izuku’s team; god knows what any good the purple pervert or fucking Invisible Girl would be
against any real threat that might come their way.
Every once and a while, Katsuki catches sight of paparazzi at the perimeters. Their cameras
flash when he releases a controlled explosion and sometimes one of them has the nerve to
shout a question at him. Irritating motherfuckers. Katsuki forces himself to ignore them as
best he can. He’s sure Izuku has the worst of it, which only makes Katsuki’s stomach ache.
They better stay the fuck away from him, Katsuki thinks with a fierce scowl. He’s just saved
all their asses; it's the least they can do to give Izuku some breathing room as he settles into
his new normal.

The day is torturously long. Katsuki tries to lose himself in the work, but constantly his brain
is niggling at him that something isn’t right. Something is missing. His chest is tight with
anxiety and his body is unusually antsy.

It’s just a few hours, Katsuki tells himself. He forces himself not to check his phone; he
knows watching the clock won’t make the time go by any faster.

His body gets sore embarrassingly quickly. He’s having trouble adjusting to so much
vigorous activity after weeks of bedrest. His arms in particular fucking ache and it frustrates
him to no end realizing he’s gonna have to build up his blowback tolerance again. He plans
on asking Izuku to spar with him after this, but by lunchtime, his legs are already too wobbly
to even consider it. Fuck, how has he let himself get so weak? He checks his phone as he
inhales his spicy udon; seven new texts, all of them from Izuku. Katsuki can’t help his grin.
Clingy bastard. Katsuki is positively giddy.

It’s only sheer exhaustion that keeps Katsuki from blasting his way back to UA the moment
the clock hits six. He is absolutely drained: both physically and emotionally. Fuck, he can’t
wait to see Izuku again. He needs to hear his voice and see his face. He needs him near
enough to soak in the heat of his body. Even the thought of being with Izuku soon lessens the
anxiety straining Katsuki’s heartstrings.

He speedwalks ahead of Uraraka, Sato, and Shoji, scanning the horizon for the other of the
teams. He sees Kirishima, Jirou, Todoroki… Momo and Aoyama and Koda… Huge Fists
Girl from class 1-B and fucking Monoma, but no Izuku. Nothing. No Izuku anywhere.
Everyone gathers at the front gate, laughing and chatting as they wait for the teachers to buzz
them in, but Izuku still doesn’t appear.

Katsuki’s heart pounds hard against his ribcage. Where the fuck is he? Has something
happened to him? Katsuki’s mind reels as he considers the possibilities. Is it the press? Some
leftover gang of Liberation extremists? Oh god, Shigaraki is bound to have inspired some
fanatics. What if one of them decided to target Izuku? Katsuki’s breathing is quickly going
ragged. Who the fuck was on Izuku’s team? Did they even bother putting Izuku with students
that would be strong enough to defend him? Idiots, fucking goddamn idiots! Katsuki’s vision
warps around the edges as he searches and scans, but he still doesn’t see Izuku anywhere. Not
even the slightest hint of green.

“Hey man!” Sero says. He takes off his helmet and waves at him cheerily. “Whoa, you
alright?”

Katsuki rounds on him, gripping him by his ridiculous tape-shaped shoulder pads and
squeezing them until the plastic squeaks.
“Who the fuck was assigned to A-5?” he demands. “Where is he?”

Sero blinks at him rapidly, visibly startling at Katsuki’s intensity and shirking a little in his
grip.

“Where’s who? What happened?” Sero asks.

“Izuku!” Katsuki shouts, angrily. “Where the fuck is he? What happened to him?”

“What?” several voices echo. Todoroki and Uraraka swivel to stare at him. Kirishima gasps.

“Midoriya?” Sero repeats, still confused because he’s a fucking useless idiot like all the rest
of them.

“What’s going on?” Todoroki demands.

“Did something happen to Deku-kun?” Uraraka asks, quirking a brow.

“Which one of you fucks was supposed to be looking out for him, huh?” Katsuki demands,
releasing Sero and rounding on the others. Rage surges through his body; his palms heat
against his will as his voice cracks. “Stop starin’ at me like fucking morons and tell me where
he is!”

Kirishima and Kaminari exchange a worried glance. Multiple people mutter to each other and
shift their stances, but no one speaks up.

“This isn’t fucking funny!” Katsuki screams, voice breaking and going breathy at the end.
His chest heaves with his panting; his hands are trembling. Oh god, how had he known he’d
never see Izuku again if he let him out of his sight? His body feels like it’s shrinking in on
itself. Fuck, fuck, fuck how has he allowed this to happen? This is all his fault. His vision
blurs as angry tears fill his eyes. “Just someone— anyone—”

Todoroki steps forward, inhaling like he means to say something just before—

“Kacchan!”

Katsuki’s heart leaps and stammers. He inhales shakily. Thank fucking god. His knees wobble
as the relief courses through him like cold river water. He turns toward the sound just in time
to see an electric green blur racing right at him. Katsuki opens his arms and Izuku fills them.
Izuku. His solid body collides with Katsuki’s chest and oh. There. There it is. Katsuki’s body
is buzzing with relief. For the first time all day he feels like he can breathe. The tension
drains out of him. The world has righted itself under Katsuki’s feet and a vital piece of
Katsuki’s heart has just clicked back into place. Tears roll down his cheeks as he buries his
face in Izuku’s throat.

“You piece of shit,” Katsuki whispers into his skin.

“The press,” Izuku says, breathing heavily. “They caught us as we were making our way back
to the safe zone. Couldn’t get away. There were so many of them. I’m sorry.”
Katsuki feels a stab of white-hot rage, but that can wait. Katsuki leans back to examine him.
Izuku has dirt smeared on his cheeks and his hair is a little damp with sweat, but his eyes are
shiny and sincere.

“And you’re not hurt?” Katsuki asks, roughly.

“No,” Izuku confirms, and his huge doe eyes feel like they’re going to swallow Katsuki
whole. “Not hurt. You?”

Katsuki shakes his head. Then he scowls.

“Where the fuck was your team?” Katsuki demands, pinching his cheek meanly. “Why
weren’t they looking out for you?”

Izuku shakes his head, wiggling out of his pinch.

“Tokoyami-kun got sick so Testutestu-kun took him back to campus. It was just me and
Ojiro-kun. He got swarmed too, it’s not his fault.”

Katsuki fumes. He feels a muscle twitch in his neck as his teeth clench.

“What the fuck? You two were on your own?” Katsuki demands. “And no one told me? No
one thought to go get back up?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku presses, squeezing his shoulders and looking up at him pleadingly. “Really,
it was my fault. I thought we could handle it.”

Katsuki sighs through his nose, irritated at Izuku for his stupid selfless fucking impulses.

“You coulda called me,” Katsuki says, furious. He flicks Izuku’s forehead hard. “Called
Aizawa, called anyone . What were you thinking?”

Izuku at least has the decency to look abashed. His hands slide down to clutch the front of
Katsuki’s uniform and his gaze is downcast. His lashes paint long shadows down the soft
curves of his cheeks.

“Just been feeling so useless, Kacchan,” Izuku whispers. “Didn’t want my first task to be a
failure.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki scoffs.

Someone coughs loudly and they both jolt. Izuku reflexively pulls Katsuki closer to him with
a flash of green lightning. Every single one of their classmates, and a good chunk of Class B,
too, are watching them with rapt interest.

“What the fuck are you starin’ at?” Katsuki shouts, making sure each of them gets a piece of
his nasty glare. He doesn’t miss the way Kaminari and Kirishima whisper to one another.
Mina’s eyebrows shoot up into her hair. Izuku pats his chest soothingly as Katsuki growls.

Todoroki looks completely unbothered as he takes a step toward them.

“Midoriya, are you alright?” he asks, in that patient, gentlemanly way of his. Fucking half-
and-half bastard. Katsuki sneers at him, but Izuku smiles.

“I’m fine,” Izuku says. “It’s been a long day.”

Present Mic finally shows his ugly mug to let them through the gate and Izuku takes
Katsuki’s arm as they head inside. God, it’s so good to feel him. The physical reminder of his
presence is a balm on Katsuki’s bad mood, but doesn’t quite stamp it out. He’s going to
Aizawa first thing in the morning about this. Clearly their separation plan hadn’t worked at
all if Izuku still got harassed. The fucking media. Katsuki seethes to think about it. Usually
his rage invigorates him, but today there’s just nothing in the tank left to burn. He’s fucking
exhausted.

“I know,” Izuku says, even though Katsuki hasn’t said a word. He pets Katsuki’s bicep like
he’s a fucking cat he’s trying to soothe or something.

Katsuki is ready to crash as soon as they’re out of the showers, but Izuku coaxes him into
eating anyway. He gently lectures him about how important protein is to repairing muscle,
even if they’re too tired to do anything more than reheat some leftovers. They take their
plates up to Katsuki’s dorm room and eat in unusual silence on the floor. As soon as Katsuki
has scarfed down his stir-fry he throws himself back and lays right there on the carpet, staring
up at the ceiling vacantly. He listens to the rhythm of Izuku’s breathing and his chewing
noises until he hears the soft clink-clink as Izuku stacks their bowls.

“I really am sorry,” Izuku whispers.

“Shut up,” Katsuki advises.

Silence. Izuku takes a stuttering breath.

“Do… do you want me to go?” Izuku asks, in an impossibly small voice.

“No!” Katsuki shouts damningly quickly. He rolls over onto his side and covers his face with
a hand. That’s literally the last thing he needs right now. “No, no I don’t—I just—”

He sighs heavily. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“You really fuckin’ scared me, ‘Zu,” Katsuki says, eventually, hating the way his voice
cracks.

Izuku shuffles closer to him. Katsuki feels gentle hands cradle his head, lifting and shifting
until Katsuki’s cheek comes to rest on Izuku’s plush thigh. Izuku cards his hands through his
hair tentatively, gaining confidence after Katsuki nuzzles into it.

“I’m so sorry,” Izuku whispers.

“Next time come get me,” Katsuki says, trying to sound irritated. “It makes me sick thinking
you were out in the field all by yourself. Call me. Text me. Anything.”

“I wasn’t all by myself,” Izuku counters gently. “And I… I wanted to call you. I almost did.”
“Why didn’t you?” Katsuki demands. He lifts his head to give Izuku a stern look. Izuku’s
mouth twists into a funny line. He shrugs with one shoulder.

“I don’t know, I’d already texted you so much today and I… I dunno,” Izuku says, curls
bouncing as he shakes his head. “I didn’t wanna be too clingy, I guess.”

Katsuki’s sigh streams out his nose. He pushes himself out of Izuku’s lap and sits up on his
knees, looming over Izuku and looking at him hard. Izuku bats his eyelashes at him, mouth
pursed into a cute little pout. Katsuki cups his face in his hands.

“I swear to fucking god it’s like you never listen to me,” Katsuki says, disdainfully. He gives
Izuku a small shake. “Be as clingy as you want. I don’t care.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku protests, his voice wobbling.

“I’m serious,” Katsuki says; he squishes Izuku’s sweet, freckled cheeks for emphasis.

Izuku pouts between his palms. He slumps forward, his head hitting Katsuki’s sternum
lightly. He mutters something too quiet for Katsuki to understand.

“Hah?” Katsuki demands. “Quit your mumblin’ nerd, I can’t hear you.”

Izuku looks back up at him with a truly pitiful expression. His big hands frame Katsuki’s
waist and he’s so cute Katsuki just wants to bite him. Ugh. Being in love has made him
fucking weird.

“You’re gonna get sick of me if I’m as clingy as I wanna be,” Izuku says, lowly.

That’s his concern? Katsuki tches and rolls his eyes. Goddamn nerd has no idea what he’s
talking about.

“Stop bein’ fucking stupid,” Katsuki says, flatly. “I told you, I’m not pushing you away
again.”

“I’ll be annoying,” Izuku says, like he means to warn him. “I’ll never leave you alone.”

Good, Katsuki thinks. Never leave me alone. Never leave my sight again. The thought stirs
something strange and dark in his chest. Katsuki pushes it all down, locking those feelings in
a box and throwing away the key, ready to never examine any of it too deeply.

“You’re always annoying,” Katsuki says, pinching Izuku’s cheek just hard enough to hurt.
“I’m used to it.”

Izuku snorts at that and his lips twitch into a grin.

“You already sleep in my bed every night,” Katsuki continues. “How much clingier do you
wanna be?”
A shadow passes over Izuku’s gaze. Katsuki rubs over the pink patch of skin he pinched with
his thumb.

“Just spit it out, Zu,” Katsuki says, with as much patience as he can muster. “It’s just me.”

Izuku sighs. He leans in and rests his cheek against Katsuki’s chest.

“Being assigned so far apart today,” Izuku says. “I hated it.”

Katsuki hums in acknowledgement. He winds his arms around Izuku’s shoulders and drops
his chin atop his fluffy curls.

“We’ll go to Aizawa first thing in the morning,” Katsuki decides. “Tell him we’re assigned
together or he can stuff it.”

“What if he doesn’t let us?” Izuku asks, quietly.

“He’s gonna have to let us,” Katsuki counters. “We’ll tell him what happened today. Clearly
you can’t look after yourself so I gotta do it for you.”

Izuku scoffs lightly. Katsuki jabs him in the ribs.

“You gotta better idea?” he challenges.

“I guess not,” Izuku says, after a moment's consideration. His arms tighten around Katsuki’s
waist. “Kacchan?”

Katsuki squeezes him back, turning his head to nuzzle his cheek into Izuku’s vanilla-and-
chamomile scented curls. He hums in acknowledgement.

“You… you aren’t just doing all this because… because you still feel guilty about everything,
right?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki’s sigh streams out his nose. “Izuku.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful or anything,” Izuku cuts him off quickly. He rubs his head
against Katsuki’s chest with a frustrated sound. “I just. I feel kind of guilty. Like I’m taking
advantage of you or—”

“Izuku,” Katsuki says again.

“I just don’t want to ask too much, you know? You’ve done so much for me already, and I’m
worried you’re gonna resent me for it and then I’ll lose you again and—” Izuku goes on,
really beginning to babble now. “I just can’t do it. I can’t risk it. I don’t know what I’ll do, I’ll
—”

“Izuku!” Katsuki snaps. He grabs a fistful of Izuku’s curls and yanks his head back to meet
his gaze. “Oi!”
“Sorry,” Izuku whispers. His eyes are bright and sparkly with on-coming tears.

“Stop,” Katsuki presses. He cards a hand through Izuku’s hair. “And stop bein’ sorry.”

Katsuki pulls Izuku into his chest again, ignoring the way his knees are starting to protest
from being in this position so long. Somehow, it’s easier to talk when he doesn’t have to look
directly at him. Izuku’s touch grounds him and soothes him, but sometimes having those
huge, expressive eyes boring into him is overwhelming. It’s like Izuku’s vulnerability makes
Katsuki all the more protective of his own. He rests his cheek on Izuku’s fluffy head.

“Just how nice of a guy do you think I am, hm?” Katsuki demands, gently. “You think I’d be
doing any of this shit if I didn’t want to?”

“Kacchan…”

“Of course I feel bad about all the shit I did to you,” Katsuki continues. “But I’ve felt bad
about that for a while. It isn’t new.”

Katsuki takes in a steadying breath. Goddammit, he’s not good at this whole emotional
vulnerability bullshit, but he knows Izuku needs it. Izuku doesn’t know how anyone feels
about him unless he’s directly told. Damn nerd never assumes people love him, even if every
action Katsuki has taken since he’s woken up should have fucking proved it by now. Katsuki
closes his eyes and braces himself. He promised to do right by him, and Bakugou Katsuki
doesn’t half-ass anything, especially not when it comes to Midoriya Izuku.

“Today fucking sucked for me too, alright?” Katsuki admits in a small voice. “It freaked me
out. I dunno if it’s post-traumatic stress or whatever, but… I’d feel a whole hell of a lot better
if we stuck together. It isn’t just you.”

Izuku makes a choked noise. “It isn’t?”

“Of course it isn’t,” Kastuki says. Maybe it’s a little reckless, but he drops a quick kiss to the
top of Izuku’s head. “You’re fucking important to me.”

Izuku’s breath hitches at the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything he squeezes Katsuki
harder.

“You’re important to me, too,” Izuku says. He’s almost too quiet and hoarse to be understood.

“I fuckin’ better be,” Katsuki says, desperate for any reprieve from the oppressive emotional
weight of the moment. Izuku’s laugh is half a sob.

“You are,” Izuku insists. “You always have been.”

It’s so annoying how easily he says it. Katsuki feels like he’s pulling teeth trying to get
himself to admit the truths he’s holding in his heart and Izuku just drops emotional honesty
like it’s nothing. Katsuki can’t stand it. He can’t let Izuku be better than him at anything. He
braces himself with this thought as he continues.
 “I’m only gonna say this shit once,” Katsuki declares. He prods Izuku’s back gently. “You
listening?”

Izuku nods. Katsuki takes a steadying breath.

“I swear to you. No matter what it is. No matter how stupid or trivial you think it might be, if
you think you can’t do it on your own I’ll step in and take care of it for you. Whatever you
need. Whenever you fucking need it. I’m gonna be there for you. Not cuz I owe you, or think
I have to, but because I want to. I’m here for you. You got that?”

Izuku is quiet for long, dreadful moments. Katsuki’s glad he can’t see his face burning up, but
he must feel how hard his heart pounds under his cheek. Katsuki’s knees are fucking aching
from kneeling so long, but he forces himself to remain where he is. He focuses on the warmth
of Izuku’s body, the strength of his arms around him, and the soothing scent of his hair.
Izuku’s physical presence is the only thing keeping Katsuki from leaping out the window and
denying he ever said something so corny and heartfelt, but no. He promised he would do
better, and that includes the embarrassing shit like this.

Eventually, Izuku relaxes his hold. He draws back and tilts his head up to stare at Katsuki
with those enormous, evergreen eyes of his. Katsuki can’t read the emotion he sees in them
now. He’s almost afraid to try.

Slowly, without even fucking blinking, Izuku holds up one curled fist. His pinky protrudes,
extended out in offering.

Katsuki snorts when he realizes. “Really?”

Izuku doesn’t waver. His face is the very picture of grave seriousness. Katsuki sits back on
his haunches and snags Izuku’s pinky with his own.

“I pinky-swear it,” Katsuki adds, scornfully. Izuku’s face splits into a grin.

“Now you can’t break it,” Izuku says, keeping their fingers firmly locked together. “Or I
break your pinky.”

Oh yeah. Katsuki had forgotten that was the rule. God, he really had said a lot of stupid shit
when they were brats. Katsuki huffs out a laugh.

“Asshole,” Katsuki says. Izuku hums.

“Better not break it,” Izuku warns.

“I won’t,” Katsuki vows. And he means it.

(He has no idea what he’s just signed up for.)

Chapter End Notes

kacchan: i will NOT tell you i have a crush on you. I WILL make a solemn vow
devoting my life to you

hehe i hope you enjoyed the update !! please PLEASE leave a comment if you enjoyed
it, they fuel me to update faster and make me so so happy!!

say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr !! see you soon!!

 mutual
Chapter Notes

heads up there is some drinking in this chapter !! drink responsibly !!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next few months pass surprisingly quickly.

The restoration efforts go by much more smoothly now that Izuku and Katsuki are out on the
field (together, because Aizawa was shockingly amendable as soon as Izuku cried about it a
little. Katsuki suspects that his own freak-out didn’t hurt either) and soon enough Musutafu
starts to look like home again. Trees are replanted, playgrounds restored, and office buildings
and restaurants become operational once again. Children go back to school, adults return to
work, and life goes on.

Regular classes resume at UA. It’s more than a little weird putting on their school uniforms
and sitting through fucking algebra lessons after experiencing the horrors of war, but it’s also
a kind of nice. The mundane feels like a privilege after everything they’ve been through.
Homework, boring lectures, training regimens, and eating with friends at lunch were hard-
won victories. It’s hard not to be grateful for it. It’s a slow process, but eventually, things
settle into a new kind of normal.

Except it’s better. Way better. Because now Katsuki has Izuku and the whole world is brighter
because of it.

True to his word, Izuku is as clingy as he likes. They train together, study together, partner up
on group projects, hang out in Katsuki’s room after class, and go to the gym together. They
don’t leave campus without one another, even if it’s just to pop by the convenience store or to
visit their parents’ homes. A few times a week, Izuku’s friends will drag him away to have a
Dungeons and Dragons session in one of their dorms or a study date in the common room,
but for the most part their friend groups have merged. They all sit together at lunch, even
though they have to cram multiple tables together to fit everyone, and even then it’s such a
tight squeeze that their thighs squish up against one another. It’s a little overwhelming to
hang out with all of them at once, but somehow having Izuku at his side makes it easier to
bear. Izuku still hasn’t spent a single night in his own dorm room.

And true to Katsuki’s word, he is there for Izuku. Whatever he needs. Whenever he needs it.

At first Izuku is shy about the things he requests. It starts with small favors: helping Izuku do
his physical therapy exercises, lending Izuku his hoodies when the nights got cold in
Katsuki’s dorm room, reminding Izuku to take his anxiety meds, jogging together in the
mornings in case he gets ambushed by the press again (which they did. Because those fuckers
were relentless.) Katsuki does it all gladly. Every small task feels like it’s a step forward, a
building block added to the foundation of their repairing friendship. It’s both an honor and a
relief that Izuku trusts him enough to ask for what he needs; it makes Katsuki’s heart feel like
a brilliant star blazing in his chest.

But the more time passes, the more bold and casual Izuku’s requests become. Katsuki only
starts noticing it about six months after they’ve been released from the hospital.

They’re studying in the common room together, with their homework splayed out across the
coffee table as they sit on the floor, close enough that their shoulders brush as they write.
Izuku must be having trouble with English again because he keeps muttering to himself in the
garbled language, but Katsuki knows better than to offer help before he asks. Izuku can be
weirdly stubborn and competitive sometimes, especially when it comes to Katsuki.

Izuku sets his pencil down and sighs heavily, letting his head fall onto the coffee table with a
thwunk. Katsuki smirks.

“You good?” he asks, nudging Izuku with his knee.

“Can’t do it,” Izuku declares. “Too tired. I think I need a break.”

Katsuki hums in acknowledgement. It’s almost dinner time anyway. They can pick this shit
up after they get some food in them. Maybe he’ll pop on an episode of Wonderful Quirks and
Where to Find Them while they eat. It’s the least annoying of Izuku’s favorite trashy reality
TV shows anyway. Katsuki starts gathering up his pencils and scrap paper.

Izuku leans on the coffee table, propping himself up with an elbow as he looks at Katsuki
with a strange glitter in his eye.

“Hey,” he says. “You know how to make katsudon?”

Katsuki frowns as he shoves his homework back into his school bag. “Course I do. Shit’s
easy.”

“Hm,” Izuku says. He taps his chin with the butt of his pencil. “Well. I don’t.”

“What the hell? Didn’t your mom ever teach you how to cook?” Katsuki demands, turning to
frown at him.

Izuku shrugs. His grin is somewhat sheepish. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“You’ve gotta learn that shit if you want to be a hero,” Katsuki scolds. “Can’t maintain
muscle mass off of TV dinners and protein bars.”

Izuku hums like he agrees.

“Kacchan is right. I should learn how to cook,” he says, nodding seriously.

And then peeks up at Katsuki with a cheeky little grin.

“Teach me?”

God, he’s so cute. All soft curls, shimmery sea-green eyes, and dimples. He’s beyond cute,
he’s fucking angellic. Katsuki should be used to it by now, but somehow Izuku’s specific
brand of adorable only gets more potent over time. Katsuki takes an extra three seconds to
process what he’s just asked.

“You want me to teach you how to cook?” Katsuki repeats as flatly as he can.

Izuku bats his huge fucking bambi-eyes up at him innocently.

“I can’t do it on my own, Kacchan,” he says, soft and sweet.

Katsuki’s belly riots with butterflies. Fucking butterflies. Who is he? How has he allowed
himself to become this pathetic? He feels a flash of annoyance, but it’s quickly drowned out
by this strange, fluttery fond feeling. Even though he really should stay annoyed. Is Izuku
seriously trying to use Katsuki’s solemn vow to strong arm Katsuki into making katsudon for
him? Katsuki isn’t an idiot; he sees right through Izuku’s little game. Katsuki fights down his
grin as best he can.

“Go wash your fucking hands,” Katsuki says. Izuku leaps to his feet, beaming so brightly it
puts the sun to shame. He bolts into the kitchen and shimmies his shoulders excitedly.

Katsuki gathers the ingredients and starts instructing Izuku on what to do. To Izuku’s credit,
he does seem to actually be paying attention. He takes note of all the spices Katsuki stirs into
the breadcrumb mixture, remembers to pick the eggshells out of the egg-wash for the pork,
and insists on being the one to put the pork in the oil. But then when they need to cut
scallions to garnish, he does such a terrible job that Katsuki could strangle him.

“Okay, no, what the fuck are you doing? Katsuki demands, peering over his shoulder. “You
know we want them in even pieces, right?”

Izuku’s face screws up in concentration. “I’m trying!”

It’s so fucking clear that Izuku has never handled a knife properly before. His scarred hands
are always somewhat shaky after all the damage done to them over the years and Katsuki’s
heart breaks as Izuku struggles to keep the knife steady. Katsuki steps in closer, winding his
arms around Izuku’s waist and covering Izuku’s hands with his own.

“Point of the knife stays on the cutting board,” Katsuki says, moving Izuku’s hands for him
as he demonstrates. His chin hovers an inch above Izuku’s shoulder.

“Oh!” Izuku says. His laugh is somewhat nervous. “Um. I think I’m getting it. Like this?”

He tries to repeat the motion without Katsuki’s help, but it’s sloppy. Katsuki tsks.

“Come on, nerd,” Katsuki says. He’s so close that his breath ruffles the curls behind Izuku’s
ear. “You can do better than that.”

“Show me again,” Izuku demands.

Katsuki takes his hands and guides them. Izuku’s hands are cool, but his body is warm
pressed against Katsuki’s chest. God, Katsuki can’t ever get enough of the scent of his hair:
sweet, earthy, and masculine. He has half a mind to lean in closer when a loud cough
interrupts them and he jolts.

Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Uraraka have all appeared out of fucking nowhere and are all
openly staring at them. Mina has a truly wild gleam in her eye with her hands clasped over
her heart. Kaminari and Kirishima smirk at Katsuki all too knowingly and Uraraka just looks
fond. Katsuki clears his throat and takes a step back, his ears burning with his blush.

“Uh, we were gonna go out for ramen,” Kirishima says. He pops his brow. “But it looks like
you two already have plans.”

Katsuki glowers at him over Izuku’s shoulder. Not a fucking word, he thinks at him furiously,
but Kirishima only looks amused.

“Kacchan is teaching me how to make katsudon!” Izuku says brightly. He turns to give
Katsuki a big dumb grin; Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Aww,” Uraraka says, tilting her head to the side and placing a hand over her heart. “Your
favorite.”

Kaminari and Kirishima exchange a loaded glance. Mina’s bottom lip trembles. Fuck,
Katsuki has to get them out of here now.

“Go get your ramen. Y’all aren’t getting any fucking leftovers,” Katsuki warns. He busies
himself by gathering up their collection of spices and shoving them back in the cabinet.

“Aww Kacchan,” Kaminari says, giving an exaggerated pout.

“You never make food for any of us,” Mina says, with a knowing lilt in her voice.

Katsuki fights not to sputter and he rounds on her, making a cutting gesture across his throat.
Her grin is positively wicked. Goddamn meddlesome fucking extras. Kirishima laughs and
throws his arm around Mina’s shoulders.

“Alright, let’s get out of here!” Kirishima says breezily as he turns Mina toward the door.
“I’m starved!”

He sends Katsuki an I got you bro look over his shoulder. Katsuki makes a note to buy
Kirishima something nice for his birthday this year. Izuku waves them off happily and then
turns to Katsuki with his big pleading eyes.

“Um,” he says, holding up his hands. “Show me one more time?”

Katsuki snorts, but dutifully wraps himself around Izuku once again.

“Pay attention, nerd,” he says. Izuku shivers as Katsuki’s breath hushes over the skin of his
throat.
Izuku’s requests became more frequent and varied after that. Suddenly, it’s like Izuku can’t
do anything on his own. He needs help with his English homework, help lugging his laundry
down to the laundromat, or he needs Katsuki to dry his hair and massage his aching hands.
He has Katsuki bring him tea before bed, demands Katsuki’s shirts to sleep in because they’re
“comfier”, and at least twice a week Katsuki has to scratch his back until he falls asleep.
Katsuki goes with Izuku when he takes Eri to the park and pushes both of them on the swing-
set and buys them popsicles from the ice cream truck. Izuku enlists Katsuki into building the
thousand-piece All Might Legacy Lego set with him and tracking down rare merch in shady
thrift stores across town, once even meeting a creepy guy from CraigsList who claimed to
have a first-edition All Might Fights doll. (It was a fake. A poorly made one too.) Katsuki
peels his oranges, cuts off the crusts of his sandwiches, and he even calls in to schedule
follow-up appointments with Izuku’s therapist for him. (Apparently the receptionist won’t
stop hitting on Izuku, and he’s too embarrassed to ask her to stop. Katsuki never seems to
have the same problem.)

One time Izuku swears on his life that it’s of the utmost urgency that his chocolate-chip
cookie craving needs to be satiated, and when all of the store bought cookies just don’t do the
trick, Katsuki finds himself whipping up a batch from scratch. Izuku is covered in flour and
giggling when Uraraka pulls him aside to ask about his notes from their sparring session
yesterday. Kirishima and Kaminari are quick to come up and flank Katsuki on either side.
Sero snatches up a spoon and eyes the bowl of cookie dough greedily.

“You are soooo whipped, man,” Kaminari says, leaning heavily on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“He can stay whipped!” Sero says, diving in to steal a scoop.

“That has raw eggs in it, dumb shit!” Katsuki snaps, smacking the spoon out of his hands.

“Aww guys, give him a break,” Kirishima says, smiling that dopey smile of his. “He can’t
help it.”

He’s right. Katsuki can’t help it. He likes that Izuku asks him for things. He likes knowing
that he’s rebuilding trust between them, that Izuku feels safe enough to come to him. Even if
the tasks can sometimes be irritating or tedious, it still pleases Katsuki to know that Izuku
feels comfortable asking for it. He feels a possessive thrill knowing that Izuku doesn’t just
ask these things from anyone. He relishes thinking that he has a special place in Izuku’s life,
a relationship with him that no one else has. So what if Izuku’s sort of abusing his solemn
vow to him? Katsuki isn’t a fucking pussy. He can handle whatever Izuku throws at him. It’s
almost something of a challenge. Every new ridiculous thing Izuku asks of him is a test of his
sincerity and Bakugou Katsuki does not fucking back down.

“Ugh,” Izuku says, star-fished out on the sparring mat. His curls are puffy and frayed from
suffering too many blasts to the face. “I can’t. You’ve killed me.”

“Loser,” Katsuki says, even though he’s breathing hard. Goddamn nerd. He still puts up a
good fight, even after losing most of his quirks. Izuku kicks at him half-heartedly, but he’s
not quite close enough to hit him.
“Help me up,” Izuku orders. Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Kacchan.”

“Do it yourself, lazy,” Katsuki says, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“But Kacchan,” Izuku says. He holds a hand over his heart and speaks with a soft, faux-
dramatic air. “I can’t do it on my own.”

Katsuki snorts, amused. “Really?”

“How attached are you to your pinkies again?” Izuku asks, blithely. Katsuki laughs and
extends a hand. And because Izuku is an asshole, he takes that hand and yanks Katsuki down
with it, rolling him over and trying to pin him. Their wrestling quickly devolves into a sixth
sparring match that leaves them both breathless.

“Okay, now I’m really dead,” Izuku says, once Katsuki has him pinned again (hah, suck it
nerd). “Help me up.”

“No,” Katsuki says. He offers him his hand anyway and Izuku gives a haggard, guttural
groan as he’s hauled to his feet. He slumps into Katsuki’s arms, nuzzling his sweaty head into
his chest.

“Can’t walk,” Izuku says. “You’re going to have to carry me.”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow.”

“Your fault,” Izuku insists, like the fucking brat he is. He clutches the back of Katsuki’s shirt
and tugs. “Worked me too hard.”

“Sounds to me like I’m not working you hard enough,” Katsuki counters. Izuku giggles. He
sighs and breaks the embrace, staggering off toward the locker room with a slight limp. He
really does look tired. Katsuki knows he was joking, he does. Izuku has asked for a lot, but
surely that would be a step too far. And yet…

Katsuki surges up behind him, seizing Izuku’s waist with both hands and flipping him
around.

“Kacchan! What are you— Ah!” Izuku makes such a cute little yelp as Katsuki bends over,
locks his arms around Izuku’s legs, and hoists him up over his shoulder. Izuku laughs.
“Kacchan!”

“Oh now you don’t wanna be carried,” Katsuki deadpans.

“I didn’t mean like this!” Izuku cries, and Katsuki cackles as he hauls his ass all the way into
the locker room.

Izuku is oddly quiet as they shower. Usually Izuku is talking his ear off about how he thinks
their sparring session went, what strategies they should implement next time, and what he
thinks they can improve upon in the future. Katsuki can hear the soft sounds of Izuku
scrubbing himself from one stall away, but he doesn’t say a word. He keeps sending Katsuki
secretive little glances as they dry themselves off and change into clean sweats and t-shirts.
The third time Katsuki catches him looking, he throws his towel at his face.

“Just spit it out, Izuku,” Katsuki snaps.

Izuku catches the towel out of the air easily. He twists it in his hands as he leans up against
the lockers, eyes big enough to drown in. His mouth twists strangely, like he’s chewing on the
words before he speaks them. He looks at the ground and swallows.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just…”

Katsuki raises his eyebrows at him. “Just?”

Izuku shrugs one shoulder. His gaze flicks up at him again.

“Bet you couldn’t carry me all the way up to our room,” he says, lowly.

Our room. Katsuki shivers. He leans in, close enough that his shadow creeps up Izuku’s
chest.

“You underestimatin’ me, nerd?” Katsuki asks, dangerously soft.

Izuku rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. Katsuki wonders how it tastes.

“I dunno,” he says, quiet and coy. “Am I?”

Katsuki looms in even further, until Izuku’s back is pressed flat against the lockers and
they’re standing toe-to-toe. Izuku is the perfect height for him, Katsuki thinks. He’d only
have to crane his neck down an inch to kiss him. Fuck, what the fuck who brought up
kissing? Katsuki keeps his gaze locked on Izuku’s wide, emerald eyes, not even daring to dip
back down to his lips.

“That really what you want?” Katsuki gruffs.

Izuku’s eyelashes tilt as he scans Katsuki’s face up and down. He nods once.

Katsuki makes quick work of it. He stoops, sliding one arm under Izuku’s armpits and
knocking the other under his knees. Izuku scrambles to hook his arms around his neck.

“Oh my god,” Izuku says, laughing a little. “You— Kacchan—”

“You fuckin’ asked for it, nerd,” Katsuki reminds him. He marches toward the exit, kicking
the door open with more force than necessary. Izuku’s giggling is breathy and somewhat
shrill.

“You really— I can’t believe—” is all Katsuki manages to catch of Izuku’s mutterings.
Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Don’t act all shocked,” he says, sourly. “I’m strong as hell.”

“Not shocked!” Izuku insists. “Not shocked at all!”

Getting into the dorms is a little tricky. This door has a handle, and even when Katsuki hits it
with his foot it won’t open. Iida ends up having to come to rescue them and— fuck. Katsuki
feels a twist of embarrassment. Of course their friends are all sitting in the common room
right at that moment. It’s like they were just waiting for them to waltz in. There are multiple
oohs and wolf-whistles as Katsuki carries Izuku past the couches. Izuku waves at them shyly.

“Oi, Bakugou, me next!” Kaminari calls, leaning over the head of the couch.

“And me!” Sero chimes in.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Katsuki spits. Izuku giggles.

“You lose a bet or something?” Katsuki doesn’t know who shouts that. He’s already marching
up the stairs toward their dorm room, trying to hurry before anyone says anything too
damning.

“No, that’s just his princess,” Kaminari quips, and everyone bursts into uproarious laughter.
Izuku frowns.

“Ignore them,” Katsuki orders. His hamstrings are straining, but he grits his teeth and forces
himself to move faster. Izuku rests his head on Katsuki’s collarbone and says nothing.

Katsuki’s glad their door was left a crack open. Despite his boasts, carrying Izuku up all those
stairs after a full day of training was fucking taxing. He drops Izuku onto the bed
unceremoniously.

“Told ya,” Katsuki says, chest heaving.

Izuku stares up at him with wide, starry eyes.

“Kacchan sugoi.”

Katsuki’s heart lurches. Oh. He hasn’t heard that one in a while. He clears his throat and turns
away from him, the back of his neck heating with his blush.

“Obviously,” Katsuki says, too quietly to really be believed. They should get ready for bed.
Katsuki needs to find a shirt for Izuku to sleep in. He takes a step toward the dresser and
Izuku sits up suddenly, snatching his wrist.

“Kacchan?” he asks.

Katsuki quirks a brow at him. “Hm?”

“I— you—” Izuku’s cheeks are strangely flushed. There’s a sparkle in his eye Katsuki can’t
name and he chews on his bottom lip as he struggles. “You’d, um. You’d tell me if… If I was
annoying you, right?”
Katsuki blinks. What the hell? Where the fuck is this coming from? Katsuki’s brow furrows
with his scowl.

“I just!” Izuku says, sputtering and waving his hands around as he does. “I know I’ve been
asking a lot and I know you promised and everything, but I don’t actually wanna annoy you
and if I’m asking too much I hope you’re comfortable telling me and you don’t—”

Katsuki scoffs. He seizes Izuku by the chin and immediately his babbling cuts off. Even his
breath catches in his throat.

“Have I ever,” Katsuki says, slow and deliberate. He pinches Izuku’s chin for emphasis. “And
I mean ever had a problem telling you to fuck off?”

Izuku blinks once. He snorts. He chokes. And then he’s ripping out of Katsuki’s grip and
collapsing back onto the bed, laughing so hard that he clutches his belly and covers his face
with a hand. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but Izuku doesn’t stop. He laughs until he wheezes, his
giggles becoming high-pitched and near-hysterical. Katsuki can’t help breaking into a grin.

“Sounds like a stupid question now, doesn't it?” Katsuki says, teasing.

“You’re right!” Izuku exclaims, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Katsuki supplies. “Because you’re an idiot.”

Izuku sits up with a jolt. “Hey! Rude!”

He pouts at Katsuki then, his fluffy curls staticy from rubbing against the sheets and freckled
cheeks thoroughly flushed. Katsuki cackles at him meanly until Izuku starts hitting him with
pillows, which quickly devolves into wrestling and soon enough they’re giggling as Izuku
tries to suffocate Katsuki with his own pillow.

It’s perfect. Katsuki honestly thinks this is the happiest he’s ever been in his life. He couldn’t
ask for anything better. Making Izuku happy is more than enough, more than he deserves
really. The nightmares still come, and on the rare occasions they have to be apart for more
than a few hours, they both get antsy and anxious, but those are small blips in the grand
scheme of things. Katsuki wouldn’t trade the life he has with Izuku for anything.

The real trouble comes when the anniversary of Katsuki’s near-death approaches. Izuku
becomes clingier than ever. He scowls at the sakura petals drifting through the air and dark
clouds gather in his eyes when anyone comments on the lovely spring weather. Katsuki can
feel Izuku’s fingers pinching the back of his school uniform all throughout their classes and
suddenly he doesn’t want to eat lunch with all their friends. Instead Izuku drags Katsuki up to
the roof with him, where they eat as quickly as possible before Izuku turns to him and tugs on
his sleeve.

“I need—” Izuku tries. He always struggles to say it out right. “I need you— I need you to
—”
Katsuki already knows. He envelops Izuku in his arms and presses his ear to his chest,
sometimes rocking him back and forth as he does. Izuku clings to him and trembles.

Truthfully everyone is feeling a little strange as the anniversary of— well, everything
approaches. There’s less chatter, less laughter. There’s a heaviness to the air that sits
uncomfortably on everyone’s shoulders. A terse sort of tension that everyone is afraid to
break.

Everyone except Momo, that is.

“Okay!” Momo says, clapping her hands together as all of class 1-A gathers for their weekly
movie night in the common room. “Is everyone here? I have an announcement.”

Glances are exchanged. A murmur ripples through the room. Izuku is half-sitting in Katsuki’s
lap and turns to give him a questioning look. Katsuki scowls and shrugs at him. Why the hell
would he know what’s going on?

“Ah! It’s not like! A homework thing!” Momo assures, waving her hands around. “Just! Next
weekend my parents will be attending the opening of a winery in Italy and—” she takes a
deep breath, like she’s bracing herself “—and you’re all invited for a huge, end-of-term—um,
party! I’m throwing a party.”

Kaminari and Kirishima gasp in tandem. Multiple people shout. Mina grips her hair and
gapes around the room like she’s making sure everyone heard the same thing she did.

“I’m inviting everyone!” Momo goes on. She has a gentle flush to her cheeks. “Bring
whatever you like: drinks, games— I think we’ve all earned it. We’ve survived a whole year
since— you know— and I think it would be good for everyone if we um—”

She sends Iida a quick glance. He nods at her decisively.

“Let loose?” she finishes.

The room bursts with excitement. All the girls squeal and rush to embrace her and the boys
leap to their feet and start chanting: party, party, party . Katsuki can already hear chatter
about planning outfits, who’s bringing what liquor, and what drinking games they should all
play. Damn. Good for them. Katsuki knows Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero are always
looking for an excuse to knock back some beers. He can’t believe Iida is cosigning any of
this. Izuku turns in Katsuki’s lap, looking up at him hopefully.

“What do you think?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“It sounds fucking miserable,” Katsuki answers, honestly. “Noise. Crowds. Drunk people.
They’ll all probably start crying at the end of it anyway.”

Izuku’s grin is a little lopsided, but genuine.

“But you’ll go?” he prods, voice painfully light.

Katsuki gives him a look. “If you need me to.”

It’s as good as a yes. Izuku smiles at him sweetly, sliding an arm around his shoulders and
pressing their cheeks together.

“We’ll have fun,” Izuku promises.

Somehow, Katsuki doubts that.

Of course Ponytail lives in a fucking mansion. Katsuki feels on edge just looking at the place.
It’s too big for anyone to live in reasonably. There are high, domed ceilings and marble
pillars like they’re in a fucking museum or something. There’s second and third floor
balconies looming over the honest-to-god entry hall (who the fuck needs an actual entry hall?
Fucking bougie-ass bastards) and there’s stained glass windows decorating the rounded
ceilings. They’ve come on time, but already there’s a throng of teens filling the space and
music pulsing through the air. Fuck. Katsuki doesn’t recognize half of these people. What did
Momo do, invite the whole school or something? Katsuki’s skin begins to crawl. A gaggle of
first-years gape at them and point at Katsuki and Izuku as they pass by. Katsuki glowers at
them; Izuku takes his hand and squeezes it.

“Welcome!” Momo says, clapping her hands together when she spots them. Katsuki is
surprised to see she already looks a little tipsy. She ushers them into the kitchen, which is
massive . Katsuki wishes he wasn’t envious. “Drinks are in the fridge. The entertainment
room is downstairs. Oh! And if you want to use the pool there are towels in the cabinet!”

“Thank you!” Izuku says, brightly.

“Oh! Deku-kun!” Uraraka calls. She’s standing at the island countertop in a crop top, waving
over to them as Sero fills shot glasses. Mina has her arms around both of them, giggling
excitedly. “Come take a shot with me!”

“Oh! Uh,” Izuku glances at Katsuki. “Are— are you going to drink, Kacchan?”

“Doubt it.” Katsuki has no idea why everyone seems so excited to poison themselves until
they’re stupid. It might be kind of fun to watch though. Izuku chews on his lip and Katsuki
scoffs. “What?”

Izuku shrugs. “I—I dunno.”

Katsuki squints at him skeptically.

“If you wanna drink then drink,” Katsuki says, tersely. He squeezes the fingers still entangled
with his own. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

Izuku considers that for a moment. His laugh is somewhat nervous.

“Well…” he says, scratching behind his ear. “Okay!”

Uraraka and Mina cheer. Sero waggles his eyebrows at Katsuki in a way that makes Katsuki
scowl, but thankfully Izuku isn’t paying attention. The girls are quick to drag Izuku over and
all four of them clink their glasses together before throwing back their shots. Izuku makes a
truly hideous face and Katsuki cackles. Izuku gags until Momo hands him a bottle of
lemonade to chase it down.

“It’s so bad!” Izuku informs Katsuki from across the countertop. He shakes his head over and
over again. “Oh that’s so gross!”

“You want one, Bakugou?” Sero asks. He’s taken his shot much easier, but his voice is still
somewhat raspy.

“Hell no,” Katsuki scoffs. “Shit’s for idiots.”

“So straight-edge for an edgelord,” Sero mutters, tutting like it’s a shame. Katsuki shoots him
a look that could kill.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” he demands.

Uraraka ignores them both, pouring out another round as Mina does a happy-dance, clapping
her hands and chanting, “More, more, more!”

“You want another, Deku-kun?” Uraraka asks.

Izuku’s eyes are watering, and he looks like he’s about to hurl, but he nods. “Yeah, alright.”

Katsuki snaps his gaze over to him disbelievingly. “Really?”

Izuku waves him off. “I wanna see what it’s like!”

Katsuki scowls. “Be careful, asshole.”

Izuku smiles at him sweetly. “I will, Kacchan.”

Sero holds his hand over his heart, giving Katsuki an overly-exaggerated pouty face and
mouthing so cute at him. Katsuki bites back a growl. Izuku plugs his nose before taking his
second shot and sticks his tongue out right after.

“Yuck,” he says, childishly. How the hell does he make that shit look cute? He’s going to be
eighteen in four months, he shouldn’t be making faces and saying yuck like a toddler.
Looking at him makes Katsuki’s heart flutter and it’s nauseating.

“You get used to it,” Uraraka assures. She pounds her chest with the flat of her fist and burps
loudly. Ugh. Katsuki wrinkles his nose. Izuku wipes at his eyes and sniffs.

“You good?” Katsuki asks. Izuku nods vigorously.

“Yeah,” he says. He dry-heaves for a second but manages to hold it down. Mina rubs his back
and coos. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Drink some water,” Katsuki orders. “If you come to me crying about a hangover tomorrow,
I’ll kill you.”

For whatever reason, Izuku seems amused by that, but he does procure a water bottle from
the fridge and sips on it like Katsuki asked. Uraraka fills up two more shot glasses.

“You sure you don’t want one, Bakugou-kun?” Mina asks, in a hopeful voice. She shimmies
her shoulders at him as she sing-songs, “It could be fun.”

Izuku frowns faintly. He puts a hand on her shoulder.

“He said he doesn’t want to,” Izuku tells her, gentle but firm. Katsuki feels a rush of affection
for him and Mina pouts.

Uraraka shrugs. “There’s no shame if you can’t handle it, Bakugou-kun.”

Katsuki reddens with a hot flash of rage. Mina and Sero go oooh because they’re fucking
children and Izuku shoots her a stern look.

“Uraraka-san!” he cries. “Don’t pressure him!”

“What?” Uraraka says, looking between all of them. “I said there’s no shame!”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki snaps. He snatches up the nearest shot glass and throws it back before
he can think better of it. The liquid burns down his throat and immediately tears prick at his
eyes. Izuku’s yuck was putting it mildly. He sets down the glass with a retch and Izuku
gasps.

“Kacchan!” he cries.

“‘M fine,” Katsuki rasps. People really do this shit for fun? More people are dumber than
Katsuki realized. Izuku shoves past Mina and Uraraka, rushing over to Katsuki and pressing
his chaser into his hands. “Thanks.”

Katsuki has to gulp down almost the entire thing before he’s sure he can keep the liquor
down. He swivels to glare at Uraraka.

“How’s that for fuckin’ handling it?” he demands.

“I really wasn’t trying to challenge you!” Uraraka protests. Her flushed cheeks seem even
rounder when she pouts. Izuku frowns, rubbing Katsuki’s bicep like he means to soothe him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Izuku tells him quietly.

“I know,” Katsuki says, snappier than he means to. Izuku’s frown deepens and Katsuki forces
himself to soften. “I promise it’s fine, ‘Zu.”
“Okay,” Izuku says, reluctantly. “Drink some water?”

Katsuki grunts, displeased. He knows he should, but downing all that lemonade makes him
hesitate. Izuku squeezes his arm.

“Please?” Izuku presses. “For me?

Katsuki sighs through his nose. “Yeah okay.”

Izuku passes over his own half-drunk water bottle and watches as Katsuki takes a few
swallows. Katsuki resurfaces with a gasp and Izuku smiles.

“Thank you,” Izuku says.

Katsuki feels the impulse to kiss his forehead, and tell him yes of course, literally anything
but fights it down. He sees Uraraka and Sero exchange a glance over Izuku’s shoulder. Mina
is barely repressing a giggle. Katsuki narrows his eyes at them.

“What?” he demands.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sero says, waving his hand dismissively. “Come on, they’re waiting for us
downstairs.”

The basement is also fucking huge. It’s wide and open, with a massive flatscreen on one end
and foosball tables at the other. There are scattered game tables set up all across the room
with people crowded around each one and talking animatedly. Katsuki spots games of Poker,
Flip-Cup, Cards Against Humanity— Monoma is playing chess against a first-year for some
fucking reason— the TV is surrounded by squashy leather couches where way too many
people are all squished together and screaming over a particularly fierce game of Mario Kart.
Kirishima and Kaminari are at one of the game tables at the far end, laughing as they stack
red solo cups into a gigantic pyramid.

“Whoa!” Kirishima says, when he spots them heading over. He must already be drunk
because he pumps his fists excitedly right through their pyramid. “Bakugou, you really
came!”

“Dude!” Kaminari cries, flailing and attempting to catch as many of the falling cups as he
can. Sero points and cackles.

“Alright, let's get the beer-pong table going!” Uraraka says, clapping her hands together.
Everyone cheers way too loudly and Katsuki grimaces. Izuku tugs on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Do you know how to play?” he asks.

“Why the fuck would I know how to play?” Katsuki asks back, loud over the crowd.

“It’s easy!” Kirishima insists. “I’ll teach you!”

Kirishima gives them a rundown of the rules as Mina and Uraraka set up the table. Katsuki
half-listens. The booze is starting to hit him and his body feels like it’s humming with it. His
skin is oddly flushed. Is this what drinking is supposed to feel like? Katsuki makes a mental
note to google it later.

“What the fuck,” he says at the end of Kirishima’s explanation. “So if you suck at it you end
up drunk as hell.”

Kaminari snorts. Apparently he’s been listening in.

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of the point, my man,” he says, breezily.

Katsuki folds his arms across his chest. “It sounds stupid.”

They all boo. Mina throws a red solo cup at his head. There’s a flash of green lightning and
Izuku bats it out of the air just before it can hit him. The cup crumples as it smashes directly
into the back of Monoma’s head halfway across the room and he swivels to scowl at them.
Izuku shouts over his apology.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki says, fondly.

“Sorry,” Izuku says, looking abashed. “Body moved on its own.”

Uraraka and Mina play against Kirishima and Kaminari first. Izuku, Katsuki, and Sero all
watch, cheering where it’s appropriate and laughing at just how ridiculous they look as they
scramble to chase the ping-pong ball when their shots miss. Jirou shows up just in time to
watch Kaminari drunkenly slip on his ass.

“Wow,” she says, dryly. “Beer-pong? Really?”

“Hey!” Kaminari says, pointing at her from the floor. “Beer-pong is a teenager's right of
passage, alright? Don’t hate on the classics!”

Katsuki sees Izuku’s brow quirk in interest and yeah, Katsuki knows that look.

“Seriously?” Katsuki asks, as flatly as he can. “You wanna play this shitty excuse for a
game?”

Izuku swivels to stare at him with big, pleading eyes. “It’s a teenager’s right of passage,
Kacchan.”

“It’s barely a game at all,” Katsuki protests. “It’s just—" he waves a hand around as he
struggles to phrase it. “It’s just throwing a bunch of balls around.”

Kaminari keels over with his snort. “ Balls .”

“Oh my god, man,” Kirishima laughs, slapping Kaminari’s back.

Izuku pinches his mouth into a skeptical pout.

“Now I could be wrong,” Izuku says, as he taps his chin. “But I think most sports are just
throwing a bunch of balls around.”

Katsuki opens his mouth to protest. And then promptly closes it. Huh. He supposes that’s
true. He frowns as he considers. Kirishima scores against Mina and Uraraka before giving
Kaminari a double high five. It looks easy enough too. Besides, Katsuki and Izuku make an
excellent team. They probably wouldn’t end up having to drink that much anyway.

“You really wanna play?” Katsuki asks to confirm. Izuku nods eagerly. Maybe Kaminari has
a point about him being whipped. “Fine. I’ll play one round with you.”

“Really?” Izuku cries. He looks torn somewhere between concern and hope. “But— I thought
you didn’t wanna drink!”

Katsuki’s glad he has the shot to blame for his blush. He shrugs, hoping he seems dismissive.

“S’not so bad,” he says, lowly. The buzzing sensation is mild and almost kind of nice. “We’re
gonna fucking crush them.”

Izuku leaps into the air and cheers. He throws his arms around Katsuki’s neck, chanting his
thank yous in his ear. Jirou clears her throat awkwardly. Katsuki might regret this once the
hangover hits him, but seeing the freckles on Izuku’s cheeks bunch up as he smiles at him
makes it all worth it.

Unfortunately for Katsuki, they absolutely fucking suck at beer pong.

“Boom baby!” Kaminari says, as the third toss in a row sinks into one of their cups. Fuck!
Katsuki grabs the beer and pounds it angrily.

“How are we losing?” Izuku cries. His hair is mussed from tugging at it in distress.

Truthfully? Izuku’s hands are always somewhat shaky after all the damage they’ve taken and
Katsuki’s hands are perpetually sweaty. For all their prowess on the battlefield, they’re truly a
terrible combination here. And it only gets worse the more they’re forced to drink. Kaminari
and Kirishima seem to have a much higher alcohol tolerance than they do and they just keep
scoring points. For the first time in his life Katsuki regrets never taking up their offers for
“Beer Night with Da Boyz” as Kaminari texts it.

“Just try to score, dumbass,” Katsuki snaps.

Izuku aims and misses. Again. At least Katsuki gets to watch Kirishima stumbling after the
ping-pong ball like an idiot. Uraraka and Mina giggle at him from the sidelines. Ugh.
Katsuki’s stomach hurts and the room seems like it’s rocking back and forth. Izuku grabs
onto Katsuki’s arm, his head colliding with his bicep.

“Kacchan, I’m sorry!” he wails.

“You fuckin’ suck at this,” Katsuki tells him tersely.

Izuku pouts up at him. “You haven’t made a shot either!”

Katsuki seizes him in a headlock, grinding his knuckles into his scalp harshly. “Asshole!”

“Hey! Ow! Kacchan!” Izuku says, struggling to shove him off. He giggles as Katsuki’s hands
find the tender flesh just under his armpits, aiming for where he knows he’s ticklish. “Stop!
No! I can’t!”

“Oh my god,” Kaminari says, hands on his hips. “Stop flirting and play already.”

Katsuki could kill him. He sends him a fierce glower, but thankfully Izuku is too busy
wheezing and wiggling out of Katsuki’s arms to have heard. Izuku dabs his eyes and looks at
the table.

“What? Oh my god, did you score again?” he cries. He checks and sure enough, the ping-
pong ball is floating at the top of the center-most cup. “How?!”

Kirishima puffs out his chest proudly. “Practice, baby.”

Mina goes magenta with her blush. Uraraka elbows her and giggles; Katsuki rolls his eyes.
He wishes Kirishima would just grow a pair and ask her out already. Watching them dance
around each other is getting fucking irritating.

“Blergh,” Izuku says after he’s downed his drink. A bit of it dribbles down his chin and
Katsuki snorts. He drags Izuku over by the elbow, licking his thumb before wiping the sticky
beer off his face.

“You’re a mess,” Katsuki says. He’s too tipsy to hold back his grin.

Izuku flashes his dimples at him. Katsuki rubs his thumb over one of them before he can
think better of it. He watches the tip of the digit sink into the little divot with a pleased,
possessive rush.

“Okay, guys seriously, come on,” Kaminari says. “I wanna actually get drunk over here!”

“No! Stop!” Kirishima hisses, smacking at Kaminari’s chest. “Let it happen, let it happen!”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. He releases Izuku and takes the ping-pong ball from him. Kaminari
cups his hands over his mouth.

“Try aiming this time!” he jeers.

Katsuki is fucking sick of this game. He hurls the ping-pong ball right at Kaminari’s face
instead and smacks him right between the eyes. He stumbles back with an “Owch!”

Uraraka folds her arms across her chest and tuts.

“Oh sure, now you can aim,” she says, blandly.

They all burst into mad, cackling laughter. Kirishima goes as red as his hair; Mina struggles
to breathe. Even Kaminari joins in on it after a few seconds of sulking. Izuku leans on
Katsuki as his giggles go high-pitched and breathless.

It’s a relief when they finally lose. Katsuki hates the feeling (he’s supposed to win, dammit),
but at least he doesn’t have to drink anymore. His mind is fuzzy and the room is warped
around him strangely. Jirou and Sero step in to take their place, promising to give Kirishima
and Kaminari an actual game this time and Katsuki sees red. He takes a step toward him,
ready to strangle Sero for his fighting words, but his knee wobbles and stomach rises. His
angry shout transforms into a truly disgusting burp.

“Oh god,” Katsuki says, cringing at the taste left in his mouth.

Izuku rounds on Katsuki, batting his chest lightly.

“Kacchan, gross,” he scolds.

“You!” Katsuki cries. He means to seize him by the shoulders, but limbs aren’t working quite
right and his hands slide right off him. “This is your fault!”

Izuku shrieks as he flees. He moves surprisingly quickly for someone who’s even drunker
than Katsuki. He bobs and weaves past the beer-pong table, ducking behind Uraraka and
Mina and hugging them both as he hides behind them.

“Help me!” he cries.

Katsuki lunges forward; he’s so focused on the tuft of green hair over Uraraka’s shoulder that
he doesn’t even see her hand shoot toward him. Five finger-pads hit him square in the chest.
His stomach lurches. Oh god, her fucking quirk. His body becomes weightless and he floats
up into the air helplessly.

“What the— Fucking put me down!” he shouts. Everyone scatters as he starts thrashing in the
air, uselessly trying to propel himself in any direction.

“Nope,” Uraraka says. She seizes Izuku’s wrist and yanks him forward. “Bye Bakugou!”

“Round Cheeks I’m gonna fucking murder you!” Katsuki roars. He kicks and waves his arms
around to little effect as he’s sent drifting up into the ceiling. Several other game tables stop
to point and laugh at him. Some of them are even fucking cheering. Katsuki feels like he’s
glowing with just how furious his blush is.

Izuku is giggling hysterically as Uraraka drags him toward the exit. Mina follows after
chanting, “Go, go, go! ”

All three of them stumble up the stairs, giggling and squealing. Izuku sends one last glance
over his shoulder at Katsuki. He mouths something, but Katsuki can’t quite make out what
he’s saying. Oh god, he can’t let himself turn upside down, he’ll fucking vomit. Katsuki
scrambles at the ceiling for purchase but there’s none to be had. The closest thing to him is a
powered-down ceiling fan and Katsuki is just out of reach. Fuck! He struggles uselessly for it
anyway as he drifts.

“Damn,” Kaminari says, hands on his hips. “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

“I’ll fucking destroy you,” Katsuki vows.

He would use his explosions to propel him back to the floor, but unfortunately he respects
Ponytail too much to purposefully destroy her fancy-ass house. Maybe he'd risk one, tiny
explosion if he wasn’t drunk, but he honestly doesn’t trust his coordination right now. He
shouts at his friends to help him down, but they only laugh.

“I dunno, I think you look pretty good up there,” Sero quips.

“You’re like the world’s angriest pinata,” Jirou adds, and Kaminari laughs so hard he curls up
on the floor like a fucking idiot.

“You’re all fucking useless!” Katsuki screams.

Uraraka really must have it out for him, because two whole games of beer-pong go by and
she still doesn’t release him. All Katsuki can do is try not to vomit all over everybody as his
body floats, bobbing up against the ceiling occasionally and cringing as all the liquid in his
belly sloshes around uncomfortably.

God, if only he could figure out how to stay still. Maybe he could reach the fan if he
calculated just when to kick off the ceiling— Katsuki tries it, his stomach lurching and bile
rising to his throat as he flings himself at the ceiling fan. Katsuki catches the blade of the fans
with the tips of his fingers. Aha! Thank god. Katsuki hangs onto the blades for dear life,
grateful to be still while his body digests all the poison he’s just fed it. Katsuki closes his eyes
and focuses on not throwing up. Even if his friends totally deserved to get rained on right
about now.

“Wow, she’s really just gonna leave you hanging, huh?” Jirou says, checking the time on her
phone.

“Come on,” Kirishima says, patting Sero’s shoulder. “Help him out.”

Sero slings a strip of tape up at him and Katsuki latches onto it gratefully. Sero starts reeling
him toward the ground.

“Now you’re the world’s angriest party balloon,” he says, and they all laugh so hard that Sero
fucking drops him and they have to start the process all over again. It’s a miracle Katsuki
doesn’t strangle Sero with his own stupid tape. They drag over a bean bag chair and shove
Katsuki onto it, holding him down as they secure him into it with several layers of tape. Sero
wipes the sweat off his brow, grinning as he admires his handiwork.

“Damn look at him,” he says, gesturing to him grandly. “The Great Lord Explosion Murder
God Dynamight everybody.”

Kaminari has a truly wicked gleam in his eye. “He’s totally at our mercy.”
Katsuki can’t help it. His palms crackle to life, just enough to singe the cover of the bean bag
chair. Not that it’s much use with the tape pinning his arms to his sides.

“I’ll murder all of you,” he grouses.

“Ooh, so scary,” Jirou says, teasing.

“Guys, leave him alone,” Kirishima says, even though he’s grinning.

“No, you know what,” Kaminari says, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to
the side. “I think we’ve left him alone plenty this year.”

He rounds on Katsuki then.

“I have some fucking questions for you, sir,” he says, jabbing a finger in Katsuki’s chest.

Katsuki’s sigh filters through his nose. He supposes that’s marginally better than getting a
dick drawn on his face. Which is undoubtedly what Katsuki would do if their positions were
reversed.

“What?” Katsuki asks, flatly.

His friends all exchange glances. Katsuki doesn’t like the mischievous glimmer in their eyes.

“You know what,” Sero accuses, waggling his eyebrows.

“Everyone knows what,” Jirou adds, grinning.

The skin on the back of Katsuki’s neck prickles. He's never had Danger Sense, but he
imagines this is what it must feel like. His stomach roils uncomfortably as he looks between
them all. Kirishima shrugs helplessly.

“It might help to talk about it,” Kirishima says, gentler than the others. He gestures toward
the exit with his head. “You know, while he’s not around.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki demands, feeling heat creep up his throat.
Fuck, are they seriously going to do this to him? Suddenly a dick drawn on his face doesn’t
seem like that bad of an option.

They all sigh like he’s greatly disappointed them. Kaminari massages his temple and shakes
his head.

“Alright, listen man,” Kaminari says. “And I say this with so much fucking love in my heart
for you dude. But you’ve got to get your act together.”

There are several noises of agreement. Kirishima clears his throat and looks at the ceiling.
“What the fuck do you mean?!” Katsuki roars. “My act is together! I’m very much—” He
really must be drunk, because he’s rambling and he doesn’t even care if he’s making sense.
“Everything’s together! I’ve got it all! My shit, my act it’s— is—it’s all fucking together!”

Sero snaps a finger gun at him.

“Exactly!” he says. “Together! Like you and Midoriya should be!”

Everyone oohs at Sero as if he’s just made some deeply profound point. Jirou even goes so
far as to high five him. Katsuki’s breath hitches. His body flashes cold with dread and he
grimaces. No, no, fucking no. There’s a reason he’s never talked to his friends about this. For
the most part, Katsuki tries to smother his desires entirely and pretend they don’t exist.

But oh god, do they fucking exist. His yearning for Izuku haunts his every waking moment.
He wants him in every way that it’s possible to want someone. He wants to taste Izuku’s lips,
the arch of his throat, the curve of his cheek. He wants to feel the heavy weight of Izuku’s
thighs on his shoulders as he— No, fuck stop! What is he doing? He shoves it all back down.
He’s not going to fucking think about it. And he’s most certainly not going to talk about it.
Talking about it would make it too real, make his yearning all the more harder to ignore.

“We— we are together—” Katsuki says, evasively. “We’re together all the time.”

“No, dude,” Kaminari says. “Like actually together. Like ‘just finally bite the bullet and be
his fucking boyfriend already’ together.”

Katsuki growls. Okay, fuck this. Back to the ceiling he goes. He thrashes against the tape
trying to free himself, but Sero has done his job too well.

“Are you seriously gonna pretend all that shit you do is platonic?” Jirou prods. Her leather
jacket ripples as she folds her arms across her chest.

“We almost fucking died!” Katsuki snaps. “Of course he’s a little clingy!”

“A little clingy?” Kaminari repeats it like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “He’s
in love with you!”

Fuck! Katsuki’s heart is bursting all over again, but this time it does it sweetly. Warmth
spreads all down his limbs and sings through his skin. God, it pleases him too much to hear
Kaminari say it and he fucking hates himself for it. It’s not like Katsuki hasn’t imagined it. Of
course he longs for more; almost every night as he watches Izuku drift to sleep in his arms,
he pretends it’s because Izuku belongs to him. That Izuku isn’t just his to take care of, but his
to keep. No, no, god fucking damn it, no! He can’t let his thoughts linger there. He’s going to
get fucking greedy. Hasn’t Katsuki taken enough from Izuku already?

“He’s— He isn’t—” Katsuki protests.

“Dude,” Kirishima says, grinning at him affectionately. “Come on. I know you see the way
he looks at you.”
“He’s always looked at me like that!” Katsuki snaps.

The images flash through his mind: tiny adoring Izuku, always chasing after him and staring
at him with those wide expressive eyes. Eyes that always felt like they were about to
consume Katsuki if he looked back at them long enough. Katsuki had misread the intent
behind that gaze for years, but now he sees the truth of it. He scoffs. As if he ever deserved
Izuku’s admiration.

“How does that make it less gay?” Jirou asks, disbelievingly.

“He’s fucking affectionate okay!” Katsuki shouts. “God, you’re all— you don’t—”

None of them get it. Nobody knows what Katsuki had put Izuku through. Even if Izuku did
love him back, it wouldn’t change anything. Because how could Katsuki ever deserve it?
Izuku deserves better: someone kind, and gentle, and who cherished him right from the start.
Someone who’s never— fuck, it still stings to think of it— hurt him the way Katsuki has hurt
him. Katsuki could atone for the rest of his life and never earn the right to Izuku’s heart. Not
after how many times he’s broken it. Intentionally. Over and over and fucking over again. It
makes him fucking sick to think about it. Katsuki wants to hold his head in his hands and
melt into the ground.

“Whoa, whoa, hey man don’t cry!” Kirishima shouts. His hand is on Katsuki’s shoulder and
shaking him.

“I’m not fucking crying!” Katsuki snaps, even as he sniffles. Fuck all of them for doing this,
honestly. Fucking holding him hostage while he’s drunk and virtually helpless. “Just— just
fucking stay out of it! God, you don’t—”

You don’t know the things I’ve done to him, Katsuki thinks. Unforgivable things. Things he
should never have done to someone he loves. He thinks of Izuku’s plush lips, his kind voice,
his gentle strength. Katsuki will never be worthy of someone so… perfect.

He is only vaguely aware of his friends whispering about him in concern. Katsuki forces
himself to breathe evenly and fights to find his resolve. Right. Izuku will never be his. So
what? He can’t afford to break down about it. Izuku needs him. He remembers what his
therapist has said, so often that the words are fucking grating.

There’s nothing we can do about the past, he reminds himself. There’s only what we can do
now.

Right. Katsuki steels himself and swallows down the soreness in his throat, choking back his
tears forcibly. And what he can do now is take care of Izuku. Be his shoulder to lean on, be
his friend. Do everything he promised he would. Katsuki is doing it right now; he’s here at
this god-awful party for him, isn’t he? Proving that he can be better is more than enough.
Izuku’s friendship isn’t a consolation prize that Katsuki is merely settling for because he can’t
have him in a romantic sense. It’s the best thing in his life, the thing he’s most proud of, even.
It’s enough. It has to be enough. Which is apparently something too complicated for these
stupid extras to fucking understand.
They’re all surrounding him now, looking worried and much more subdued than before. Jirou
presses a wad of toilet paper in his face and dries his eyes clumsily. At just that moment, his
body weight returns to him with an oof. He sinks back into the bean bag chair and forces
himself to breathe evenly.

“Fucking,” he manages, jostling against the tape-restraints. “Fucking get me out of this. She
released me.”

Sero runs to grab some scissors. Kirishima rubs as much of Katsuki’s back as he can reach.
Kaminari’s lips tremble as he looks at him.

“I’m— I’m sorry—” he starts

“Save it,” Katsuki says, hoarse. “I need to fucking piss.”

Kirishima follows him to the bathroom, because of course he does. Sometimes having good
friends is fucking annoying. Katsuki blows his nose and washes his face while he’s in there.
He examines himself critically. He can blame the red tinge in his eyes on being drunk, right?
God, he’ll never hear the end of it if Izuku notices he’s been crying. He rinses his face again
for good measure.

Kirishima jolts when Katsuki finally exits the bathroom.

“Hey man,” he says, gently. He grabs Katsuki’s wrist and squeezes it. “Seriously. You
alright?”

Katsuki really, really, really doesn’t want to talk about it. He takes a steadying breath in
through his nose.

“I’m fine,” he says, short. “Drunk.”

Mercifully, Kirishima allows him to take the out on this one. Even if Katsuki can see he
doesn’t really believe that’s all it is. He releases his arm and punches his shoulder lightly.

“Never thought you’d be a mopey drunk,” he teases.

“Fuck you.” He touches his cheeks. “It— I don’t look like I’ve been—”

Crying, he doesn’t say. Kirishima shakes his head quickly.

“No, no, you look great!” He claps him on the back. “You gonna find Midoriya?”

Obviously. Someone’s gotta look after him, and Katsuki sure as hell doesn’t trust Round
Cheeks to do it. Fuck, where have they run off to anyway? Katsuki curses Momo for her
stupidly huge house. He lets Kirishima hug him briefly before he marches upstairs to begin
his search.

Jesus, this place is fucking packed. First years gape and whisper at him as Katsuki weaves
through the crowd, clumsily brushing up against too many unfamiliar bodies as he does. He
checks the kitchen first. Shoji and Tokoyami are chatting by the island countertop and
Katsuki has to scoot past them to snag two water bottles from the fridge. He’d seen just how
eagerly Uraraka had been pouring those shots. She’s probably coaxed Izuku into drinking
even more and he doubts they’ve hydrated at all. Impulsively he grabs a third bottle just to be
safe. Not that he cares if Uraraka drinks herself into a coma. Now he just has to find them. He
rounds on Shoji and Tokoyami, opening his mouth to speak—

“He’s upstairs,” Shoji says, gesturing up with his chin. Tokoyami nods to confirm.

Oh. Well, Katsuki supposes that makes it easier. He grunts his thanks and heads up, pushing
past giggling idiots grinding up on each other to the blaring music, some of them with
cigarettes in their mouths. Dumbasses. How the fuck are you supposed to do hero work if you
trash your lungs like that? He passes Camie as he marches up the stairs, but shakes off her
attempt to grab his bicep and ignores her greeting.

Upstairs, they’d said, but there’s two whole fucking floors! Katsuki growls in irritation. Some
of the rooms are locked, but most of them aren’t. He barges into two different guest rooms,
several linen closets, two bathrooms— the third guest bedroom he stumbles upon has a
couple inside, mouths suctioned together and grinding up on each other eagerly. Katsuki dry
heaves at the sight of them.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarls. “You guys are fucking disgusting!”

He slams the door behind him and sighs, gripping onto the handle until his knuckles go
white. He orders himself not to, but he can’t help it, the images are summoned to him
unbidden and unwelcome— Katsuki can all too easily conjure the way Izuku’s hands would
feel on him, the familiar weight and shape of his body, the sounds he might make as he— No,
fucking no! Goddammit, he’s going to throttle Kaminari the next time he sees him. This is all
his fucking fault for bringing it up. Katsuki is usually so much better at keeping all that
romantic yearning bullshit on lock down. He trudges down the hall grimly.

He hears Izuku’s giggling before he sees him. Izuku. Katsuki feels fifty pounds lighter. His
heart flutters in his chest. Katsuki didn’t realize how much tension his body had been holding
until the sound of Izuku’s voice melts it away. Katsuki rushes forward. Izuku, Izuku, Izuku.

“That tickles!” Izuku is saying, his words floating through a door left slightly ajar at the end
of the hall.

“Stay still!” Uraraka cries. “You’re making me mess up!”

“Uraraka-san, really I don’t think—”

Katsuki whips the door open with a bang. Everyone turns and gasps: Mina, Momo, Uraraka,
and Huge Fists Girl (Kenta? Katsuki thinks. Fuck, he’s bad with names even when he’s
stone-cold sober) are all sprawled out on the shaggy carpet, surrounded by several wine-
glasses and their faces covered in horrifying-looking mud masks. Izuku has a fluffy pink
headband keeping his hair out of his eyes, and his hands are in Uraraka’s lap— Katsuki sees
red for an instant. Is this why fucking Round Cheeks kept him air-borne so long? So she
could take advantage of Izuku while he’s inebriated and finally get his hands on her? How
dare she? How fucking dare— no wait. Katsuki blinks and she’s only painting his nails. Fuck.
And she’s gay. It’s embarrassing how long it’s taken Katsuki to remember that.

Izuku breaks into a brilliant grin at the sight of him.

“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, leaping to his feet. He knocks over a glass of wine in his haste and
Uraraka only barely dodges getting kicked in the face. He leaps into the air and throws
himself at Katsuki, wrapping both his arms and legs around him as he does. Katsuki stumbles
back a step, dropping their water bottles as he fumbles to catch him. Katsuki sighs at the rush
of security and peace.

“You found me!” Izuku says, happily.

Katsuki huffs through his nose, amused. The texture of Izuku’s mud mask is crumbly and
uncomfortable against Katsuki’s neck, but he leans in and nuzzles into him anyway, breathing
in deeply. Izuku. His earlier freak out seems so trivial now. His sour mood ebbs away, like
Izuku is somehow leeching it off him with his embrace. Of course this is enough: the heat of
his body, the scent of his hair, the rumble of his voice. It’s so much more than enough, it’s
everything . Katsuki smiles fondly.

“Were you hiding from me?” Katsuki asks, low and teasing.

“No!” Izuku shouts right in his ear. Katsuki winces as Izuku squeezes him harder. “Never! I’d
never hide from Kacchan!”

Liar. Izuku leans back. He looks ridiculous in his mud-mask and the fluffy pink headband,
but his eyes are sparkling with so much happiness that he manages to be beautiful anyway.
Katsuki prods at his crusty cheek experimentally and Izuku wrinkles his nose.

“It’s not comfortable,” Izuku informs him. Katsuki huffs again

“I don’t like it,” Katsuki announces. He presses against Izuku’s cheekbone until little cracks
appear in the mask. He misses his freckles and the soft flush of his skin.

“Help me wash it off then,” Izuku says, like he’s bargaining with him. Katsuki moves to set
him Izuku on his feet and he whines. “No! Don’t put me down!”

Katsuki snorts. “Really?”

“Missed you,” Izuku insists. He squeezes Katsuki with his thighs. “I need it.”

“ You ran away from me ,” Katsuki reminds him and Izuku giggles.

“Oh my god, get a room,” Uraraka calls over to them. Izuku whips his head around and sticks
his tongue out at her. Katsuki takes that as his cue to carry Izuku out into one of the
bathrooms he’d stumbled upon earlier. Izuku hums happily as Katsuki sets him on the
countertop. He ducks to grab a hand towel from the cabinet.

“Do you like my nails?” Izuku asks, spreading his crooked fingers to show him. Katsuki
pokes his head up to look, frowning as he examines them.
“What the fuck?” Katsuki says, quietly. The more he looks the worse it gets. Almost every
nail is a different color and the paint is smeared just about everywhere. There’s more paint is
on Izuku’s skin than on his fucking nails. “How fucking drunk is Uraraka right now?”

“Uh, pretty drunk,” Izuku says with a nervous laugh. “But wait, look, everyone gets their
own nail.”

He points to his right thumb first.

“Purple for Uraraka-san, pink for Mina-san, half-and-half for Todoroki-kun, navy blue for
Iida-kun, cranberry for Momo-san.” He switches over to his other hand as he lists them off.
“Yellow for Kaminari-kun, red for Kirishima-kun—”

He holds up the last three fingers, his left middle, ring, and pinkie finger are all a vivid
orange.

“And orange for you!” he finishes, beaming.

Katsuki can’t fight his grin, even if he wanted to. He shakes his head, turning on the faucet
and wetting the towel.

“All of them?” he clarifies.

Izuku nods eagerly.

“I couldn’t decide which one you’d like most,” Izuku admits. “I mean, I know this one is
your favorite.”

Izuku flips him off. Katsuki thwaps his hand away with the damp towel and Izuku laughs.
Katsuki seizes his giggling face and begins scrubbing the crust off harsher than he needs to.

“Hey! Kacchan!” Izuku cries, squirming in his grip. “No, no, be gentle!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki snaps, even as he obeys. Izuku admires his painted nails,
his feet kicking in the air as Katsuki continues cleaning him.

“But I had to give you the pinky too,” Izuku continues, wiggling the digit at him. His eyes
glitter and Katsuki is close enough to see the secret gold speckles scattered within the sea of
green.

“Of course,” Katsuki says. God he feels so much better now that they’re together. His
yearning and self-hatred seem so insignificant compared to the enormous joy of being with
Izuku. His heart feels warm and syrupy in his chest. He snags Izuku’s pinky with his own.
“This shit’s mine.”

Izuku giggles. His face is finally clean and ah. There are the freckles Katsuki loves so much.
The mask must have done something because Izuku’s skin is much more glowy and dewy
than usual. Izuku gaze dips to their entwined fingers with a small, secretive grin.
“I would have given you all of them,” Izuku admits quietly. “But everyone else was doing it
and I didn’t want anyone to feel left out.”

Fuck. Katsuki’s heart is too fragile to be experiencing so many emotions in so little time. It’s
exhausting. All of them, Katsuki thinks. He imagines Izuku entirely consumed in his colors.
No room for anyone else. All Katsuki’s. Just Katsuki’s

“Fuck the extras,” Katsuki blurts before he can stop himself. “I want all of them.”

Izuku’s breath hitches. His glassy-green eyes are wide and impossible to read.

“You do?” he asks quietly.

I’ll take anything you give me, Katsuki thinks. Izuku’s mouth drops open. Shit! Did Katsuki
say that out loud? Izuku’s stupid muttering habits must be fucking contagious. Or maybe
Katsuki is just drunk. His face screws up in embarrassment as he turns away from him.

“Kacchan?”

It happens in slow motion. Katsuki feels like every heartbeat lasts an eternity. Izuku’s poorly-
painted fingers tilt Katsuki’s chin back toward him, prodding at his jawline gently until
Katsuki summons the courage to meet his gaze. Katsuki’s heart pounds sluggishly in his
chest. Izuku is so strikingly beautiful that it’s almost painful to look at him. Izuku’s smile has
never been softer, his eyes never warmer. He cradles Katsuki’s face in his hands, petting him
like he’s something precious. His brows pinch into the smallest of frowns.

“You really will, won’t you?” Izuku asks; his voice is the very essence of wonder and awe.
“Everything. You’ve taken everything I’ve given you and more.”

Katsuki nods once, shallowly. The backs of Izuku’s knuckles brush his cheeks, the scarred
texture of his skin so achingly familiar and— arousing. God fucking dammit why is Katsuki
aroused right now? He’s touching his face, not his dick. Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek
to force the feeling down.

“It’s not very fair, is it?” Izuku adds, quietly.

Katsuki’s brow furrows into a deep frown.

“‘Course it’s fair,” Katsuki counters, roughly. His hands are draped over Izuku’s thighs,
merely resting atop them even though he itches to knead the dense, powerful muscle. “I
promised you.”

“That’s true,” Izuku admits. His hands wander to thumb at the soft spikes of Katsuki’s hair.
“But what about you?”

Katsuki’s jaw works but no sound comes out. Izuku licks his lips: his mouth is so pink and
wet and inviting. It’s like Izuku has every organ in Katsuki’s chest squeezed together in a
tight fist and is subtly pulling him closer, closer. Fuck, Katsuki can’t stop staring at his lips.
He barely remembers what he was just asked. He blinks rapidly, forcing himself to
concentrate.

“What about me?” Katsuki repeats, as evenly as he can. He tilts his head up, and shit, looking
at Izuku’s adoring expression isn’t any better than his sweet mouth. Not that Katsuki would
know if Izuku’s mouth is sweet. He probably tastes like wine and— fuck, stop, stop . Izuku
smiles gently.

“I mean,” Izuku goes on, almost sounding shy. “You’re promised to me… but I haven’t made
any promises to you.”

Promised to me. God help him, why is Izuku making it sound like they’re fucking engaged?
Katsuki thinks his heart really will give out on him this time. It feels like it’s trying to punch
its way through his ribcage and fling itself at Izuku, pumping blood as thick as syrup.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hush,” Izuku whispers, covering Katsuki’s protests with gentle fingers. The touch zips
through Katsuki’s body like an electric shock. Izuku’s eyes are sparkling. “Give me your
hand.”

Katsuki swallows thickly. He raises his arm, offering himself up to Izuku and trembling.
Izuku winds their pinkies together; orange-paint smears across Katsuki’s skin.

Izuku takes a deep breath, his eyes flutter shut.

“I, Midoriya Izuku, swear to you, Bakugou Katsuki, that no matter what happens, for the rest
of my life I will be there for you,” he says, soft but certain. “Whatever you need. Whenever
you need it. Even if you don’t need my help all that often, you’ll still have it. Even if it’s
small, or silly. I promise I’ll always stand by your side. For however long you want me, I’ll
be there.”

For the rest of my life, Katsuki thinks, dizzily. For however long you want me. Each sentence
is like a physical blow. Katsuki braces himself on the bathroom’s countertop as his legs
threaten to give out from under him. Izuku can’t promise this to him. He doesn’t know what
he’s signing up for. Katsuki will never let him go, he’ll hoard Izuku all to himself. He’s too
selfish for this; he’ll become too greedy. But he can’t deny him. He can’t ever deny him.
Katsuki is so full of love, hope, and happiness that it threatens to burst out of his skin and tear
him limb from limb. The room is spinning and Katsuki’s stomach has been launched into his
throat.

Izuku opens his eyes and his cheeks dimple.

“I pinky swear,” he adds, with a little squeeze.

Katsuki sobs. Fuck, goddamn it. He hadn’t even realized he’d been tearing up until suddenly
hot trails are dribbling down his cheeks. He breaks away then, burying his face in his hands
and curling into him. Izuku coos; he hooks his arms and legs around him, cradling the back
of Katsuki’s head and hugging him with his whole body. Katsuki didn’t know love could feel
like this; like something he could drown in if he wasn’t careful. His stomach is churning,
rising to consume his heart in dark gluttonous water. Only the warm weight of Izuku’s body
surrounding him keeps him anchored and secure.

“I promise,” Izuku whispers over and over again. His breath hushing past the shell of
Katsuki’s ear. “I promise.”

He’s safe with Izuku, Katsuki realizes then. No matter what storms rage inside him, Izuku is
his harbor, his safe place, his home. He's a sacred oasis; the one peaceful isle in an endless
ocean. Katsuki submits himself to Izuku’s embrace. Izuku rubs his back with one hand and
strokes Katsuki’s hair with the other, rocking him gently side to side like he’s a fucking baby
or something. Katsuki certainly is blubbering like one. He’s held Izuku like this so many
times before, but it feels entirely different now that their positions are reversed. Is this how
Izuku feels when Katsuki holds him? Cherished, adored, and maybe a little ashamed of just
how vulnerable it reveals himself to be? God fucking damnit. At least when Izuku needs to
be comforted like this it’s about something actually traumatic. What is Katsuki crying
hysterically over? A pinky-swear? This shit is so embarrassing.

“You’re such an asshole for doing this when I’m fucking drunk,” Katstuki sobs, hoarsely.

Izuku shakes them both with his soft laughter.

“Was only brave enough to do it because I’m a little drunk,” he admits.

That thought triggers a twinge of insecurity. He frowns into the crook of Izuku’s shoulder and
clings to him fiercely.

“You—you mean it though, right?” Katsuki hates himself for asking. “You’re not— you’re
not just—”

“Kacchan!” Izuku cries. He reels back and seizes Katsuki’s face in his hands. “Of course I
mean it! I mean it more than anything!”

Katsuki sniffs and swipes at his face, but he can’t shake the niggling doubt. His lips twist into
an uncomfortable line.

“Swear it when you’re sober,” he decides, “And I’ll believe you.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whines. He strokes Katsuki’s face, thumbing at corners of his frown. “I
swear I mean it now!”

Katsuki remains firm and Izuku sighs heavily.

“Fine,” Izuku says, tersely. “I’ll swear it to you every day for the rest of my life if I have to.”
He squeezes Katsuki’s cheeks between his palms. “I’m not changing my mind.”

Now it really does sound like a marriage proposal. Katsuki’s heart is a sore, aching thing in
his chest.
He’s fucking drunk, Katsuki tells himself. Surely he can’t be aware of what it fucking sounds
like he’s saying. Izuku’s eyes are warm and soft with affection.

“Kacchan,” he says, teasing. “What if I needed you to believe me now?”

Katsuki scoffs lightly.

“That’s not how the promise works and you fucking know it,” Katsuki says, booping his
nose. Izuku giggles.

“Midoriya-kun! Bakugou-kun!” Iida’s voice shouts through the door. “There is pizza in the
foyer! I repeat! There is pizza in the foyer!”

What the fuck? Katsuki nearly jumps out of his skin. Oh right, they’re at a fucking house
party hogging up the bathroom. Katstuki feels a strange sense of vertigo. Like his soul has
just now crash landed back into his body.

“Fuck,” Izuku says in a whisper. Katsuki clears his throat and wipes away the tears on his
cheeks. He snatches up the used towel and smears it all over his face.

“You need to eat so you can sober up. Water too,” Katsuki says decisively. Goddammit, he’d
dropped their water bottles back in the girl’s room. “Come on.”

Katsuki helps him off the countertop, and Izuku’s legs wobble slightly. Katsuki winds his arm
around his waist, and guides him into the hall. Iida is still marching down the corridor,
shouting as he goes. He bursts into another room further down and chokes, going beet red.

“That!” he sputters. “Is an extremely— this isn’t— What would Momo think if she knew you
were— Jesus put your clothes on!”

Izuku lurches forward with his laughter, leaning on Katsuki heavily and nearly toppling them
both. Katsuki is forced to yank him even closer to keep them steady.

“You need to wash those sheets immediately!” Iida is still going. Katsuki swears his glasses
are fogging up.

“Pervert, close the door!” Katsuki shouts over his shoulder. Izuku cackles into Katsuki’s pec.

“Come—come get pizza when you’re dressed!” Iida says, obviously flustered. He slams the
door shut; his cheeks are blotchy and red with his blush.

Izuku has definitely had more wine than he should have. He approaches the stairs with a
pitiful little whimper.

“Oh god, we’re so high up,” he whispers, peering over the balcony.

“Izuku, relax,” Katsuki says. “I won’t let you fall.”

They cling to each other as they step down the stairs carefully, one at a time. Katsuki keeps
one arm around Izuku, using the other to brace himself up against the wall. Katsuki would be
annoyed at how slowly they’re going, but it’s fine. Izuku is in his arms. Izuku has sworn
himself to him. Fuck, no don’t think of it like that. He’s not promised-promised to him. He’s
just— he’s— Okay, focus on stairs now and worry about life-long vows later. Multiple
people pass them by and give them strange looks as they creep down at a snail's pace.

“Dude,” Kaminari says. He’s at the base of the stairs, peering up at them like they’re an alien
species. Katsuki’s mood sours at the sight of him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kaminari-kun I’m scared!” Izuku cries. “I don’t wanna fall!”

“No one is falling!” Katsuki snaps, before Izuku can panic. “Fuck off, Dunce Face!”

“I wish I still had Float!” Izuku bemoans.

“Wow, Jesus,” Kaminari says. “You know you guys could try holding onto the railing if
you’re really that worried about it.”

Oh. Their gazes snap to Izuku’s left and sure enough. Okay, Katsuki really has gotten too
drunk if he's failed to notice that. Izuku snorts.

“Whoops,” Izuku says. He takes the railing in one shaky hand and Katsuki roils with
embarrassment. Izuku snags the front of Katsuki’s shirt before he can pull away. “I didn’t say
you could let go!”

Izuku is glued to his side the rest of the night. He insists on hand-feeding Katsuki bites of his
pizza and giggles when he accidentally gets grease all over Katsuki’s face. He sits in
Katsuki’s lap and sips on water while the extras play some drinking game where they spill
secrets. Or something. Katsuki isn’t really paying any attention, if he’s being honest.

There’s only Izuku: his warmth, the squish of his ass in Katsuki’s lap, the scent of his
cologne, the rhythm of his breathing. He can’t see Izuku’s face, which is a shame, but having
a nose full of Izuku’s sweet-smelling hair is nice, too. Momo brings over a cooler full of
water bottles and Izuku calls her over excitedly, pulling her down by the elbow to whisper in
her ear.

“Of course,” Momo says. “Just the one?”

Izuku nods. She creates a little bottle from her collarbone and passes it to him. Izuku thanks
her profusely. Katsuki grabs more water from her cooler while she’s here and pounds it.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says. He tugs on where Katsuki’s arms are braced around his middle.
“Give me your hands.”

Katsuki obeys unthinkingly. He tucks his chin into the crook of Izuku’s shoulder and watches
him unscrew the cap of the bottle. The sharp scent of nail polish wafts over to him and
Katsuki frowns.
 “What do you think you’re doin’ nerd?” Katsuki grouses.

Izuku giggles for some reason. “I’m painting your nails.”

Katsuki grunts. “Why?”

“Because,” Izuku says, lightly.

He brings Katsuki’s hand to his face. Kastuki feels soft, plush lips and just the barest hint of a
wet mouth kissing his littlest finger.

“This is mine now,” Izuku murmurs against his skin.

Katsuki doesn’t ask any more questions. He watches Izuku work from his perch on his
shoulder. He does his best to keep his hands still as Izuku’s shaky hands do their best to paint
his nails carefully. He still makes a mess. Paint ends up on both of their clothes and splotched
all over their arms, but it’s fine. All of Katsuki’s clothes are Izuku’s to ruin. Katsuki leans
into him, pressing the tip of his nose against Izuku’s soft cheek, breathing in the heady scent
of his skin.

Promised to me, Katsuki thinks, thoughts hazy and fragmented. Booze, sleepiness, and
Izuku’s proximity have him buzzing and boneless. Rest of our lives. He promised. Mine.

Izuku sticks the brush back into the nail polish bottle. He admires his handiwork, bringing
Katsuki’s fingers to his face and blowing on them gently.

“Do you like them?” Izuku asks quietly.

Katsuki hums his confirmation. He hadn’t told Izuku what colors he wanted. He hadn’t
needed to. Izuku has painted every single last one of them green.

Chapter End Notes

katsuki: wtf why does it sound like he's proposing to me rn

gee i dunno man it sure is a mystery… dunno why that could be happening that’s crazy.

thank you so so much for reading!! i hope you aren't feeling too edged by this, i swear
they do eventually figure it all out!! (i have like three different drafts of this chapter
where they just made out in that stupid bathroom but i have a PLAN goddamnit) next
chapter might take a bit longer to come out because it's an important one and i have to
devote some time to a fic-exchange project!!

come say hi to me @gabbkdk on Twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr !!

please PLEASE leave me your thoughts in the comments, it really helps me stay
motivated to keep writing and it totally makes my day !! love you guys so much i'm so
happy with the response to this fic so far!! thank you!!
 anything
Chapter Notes

maybe buckle up for this one.

content warning: severe!! panic attacks and fear of death/canon typical violence

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Things are different after Momo’s party.

Katsuki honestly can’t say if things are better or worse they’re just… different. Charged
somehow. Almost like Katsuki and Izuku are on the precipice of something Katsuki can’t
bring himself to name. There’s a new understanding between them; an even deeper sense of
intimacy than before. They have entire conversations through glances alone. It’s handy,
especially when they team up to spar against their classmates or when Katsuki’s social
battery is drained and they need to dip. Katsuki loves it; it’s like a secret language just for
them.

Izuku seems especially fine-tuned to Katsuki lately. He brings Katsuki Advil before he even
mentions he has a headache. Whenever Katsuki spars with Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero,
Izuku will stop by to escort Katsuki back to the dorms, always with Katsuki’s favorite flavor
of gatorade and a protein bar in tow. He leaves Katsuki little messages and doodles on post-it
notes for him everywhere: in his textbooks, on his desk, on their bedside table. Katsuki keeps
every single one in a secret envelope under his bed.

They’re forced to spend more time apart now than ever since taking up separate work-studies.
Izuku insisted he intern with Togata now that he’s taken over Nighteye’s agency and Katsuki
had begrudgingly agreed to work-study with Endeavor. It meant spending their school days
apart, which is only barely tolerable because Izuku is sure to text him every few hours to
assure Katsuki he’s okay. But Izuku’s gotten the idea in his head that he needs to bring
something back with him every time he leaves. And because he’s Izuku, it’s always
something thoughtful: Katsuki’s favorite ultra-spicy chips, a candy bar, protein powder,
motor oil for his gear, Clorox wipes for the earpieces they have to share while on patrol, a
dorky All Might keychain Katsuki pretends to only wear begrudgingly. Izuku does other
small things too: lugging around Katsuki’s gym bag for him, carrying the grocery basket
when they shop, always walking just a half a step ahead to beat Katsuki to every door and
hold it open for him. Katsuki fights not to roll his eyes at that last one.

“I can open my own doors, Zu,” Katsuki scolds, but there’s no heat to it. It should be
annoying, but it’s just so doting in such a dorky, gentlemanly way, that Katsuki can’t help but
be a little charmed by it. Which is concerning. Katsuki remembers a time when he hated it
when Izuku walked ahead of him. Fuck, being in love is making him lose his edge.

Izuku shoots him a knowing grin as he holds the door for him. Katsuki passes through and
Izuku seeks out his hand, tangling their fingers. Katsuki pretends that it doesn’t make his
heart flutter.

But then, Izuku does him one better— or worse— fuck, Katsuki really can’t decide. Izuku
makes eye contact before bringing their joined hands to his mouth, kissing Katsuki’s littlest
finger softly.

A zing shoots up Katsuki’s spine. The kissed patch of skin feels like it’s sparkling as Izuku’s
breath hushes over it. Katsuki’s own breath hitches as he fights not to shiver.

Izuku looks up at him through his lashes and murmurs, “I know.”

That’s the newest thing. The— the um— oh god, fuck it fine, the fucking kissing thing.
Katsuki flushes like a goddamn school girl every time he thinks of it, but ever since the party,
Izuku just can’t seem to stop kissing him. Never Katsuki’s lips, never where Katsuki really
wants him. It’s only ever Katsuki’s hands: the center of his palm, the backs of his knuckles,
the pads of his fingers. Most often it’s after he’s done something sweet for Katsuki, like
refilling his water bottle without needing to be asked, or polishing his gauntlets for him. He
only ever does it when they’re alone too. Sometimes days go by without kisses and Katsuki
wonders if maybe he’s imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be surprised if his longing for
Izuku has finally made him snap.

But then, while out on a mission during Katsuki’s work-study, disaster strikes and the pattern
breaks.

Endeavor has sent Katsuki, Todoroki, and the Flame-Hair-Chick out to do some data
recovery at an office building downtown. It should have been simple, they were only meant
to retrieve highly classified documents and bring them back to Endeavor’s agency for safe
keeping.

Katsuki should have known better. He shouldn’t have let his guard down. The trio of blue-
collar office workers had all just looked so ordinary and harmless. But as soon as the USB
stick is brought out into the open, one of them lunges forward, striking Flame-Haired Chick
in the gut. Katsuki seizes the villain by the scruff of his neck, just barely yanking him away
before he can snatch up the USB stick— But then Todoroki is shouting. Flame-Haired Chick
is doubled over. The tendrils of her green-fire hair shoot out of her scalp with all the fury of a
raging volcano, flooding the room with scorching heat and sending flames lapping up at the
ceiling.

A destabilizing quirk, Katsuki immediately registers. Which means— Katsuki hurls the
villain against the wall just before his hand can make contact with his skin. Fuck! That was
too close. The other office workers shriek as they flee.

“Burnin’ get a hold of yourself!” Todoroki screams over the roaring flames.
Frost diffuses from his body, but Katsuki can tell he’s holding back. He doesn’t want to hurt
her and his ice melts all too quickly. She wails as the flames burn brighter, spearing out of her
like several blowtorches all cobbled together. Goddammit, Katsuki’s nitroglycerin-slick
hands were not built for this. He can only trust Todoroki to figure it out before the entire
fucking building lights up. Katsuki rounds on the fallen villain then. He’s a stout man, with a
toupée peeling back from his bleeding scalp, but he’s moving. He struggles to free himself
from the crater his impact had left in the wall.

Avoid his hands, Katsuki thinks. But what if it didn’t work like that? What if any type of
skin-to-skin contact would trigger his quirk? Any small brush could turn Katsuki into a
ticking time bomb. Katsuki scans the office space, but it’s difficult to see anything as
billowing smoke clouds his vision and stings in his eyes. There! He’ll rip up the cubicles and
use them as a shield before charging forward. He’ll have to make sure the villain is knocked
out before Katsuki tries to restrain him with his binding-tape. Katsuki surges forward, seizing
the walls of the cubicle when—

An eruption of blazing heat, thick plumes of churning smoke. Katsuki chokes on a lungful
and—and— Katsuki is dizzy. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. He can’t—

His heart stalls.

One beat. Two.

Three.

Oh god. Oh no, oh fucking god no don’t let this be happening. He pounds at his chest, but no
movement. Searing pain screams through the muscles in his torso. It all comes flashing back
to him with horrifying clarity. His heartstrings splintering, his flesh ripping apart, the dreadful
stillness of his heart. Katsuki falls to his knees, gasping for air, but it won’t move, his heart
won’t beat.

No, no, fucking goddamn it! Katsuki convulses on the floor, kicking, shaking, fucking
screaming through gritted teeth. Nothing jumpstarts his heart. It’s like a black hole is
concaving his ribcage, oppressive and weighty with its dark emptiness.

Don’t let this be happening to him. Not here, not again. Izuku. Bile surges within him as he
imagines Izuku’s stricken face, his tears, his despair. Katsuki can’t do this to him. He
promised that Izuku would never lose him— He can’t break Izuku’s heart again. Not like this.
Tears sting in his eyes, he rolls onto his side, legs curling up as he claws at his chest, pleading
with anything, anyone.

Just let me see him one last time, Katsuki begs in his mind. He’s woozy, and lightheaded, and
his throat stings with smoke-inhalation. Just once. Just one last time.

If this is really how it has to go, then all Katsuki asks is to hold Izuku once more. To talk to
him: to tell him that everything will be okay, that Izuku is so much stronger than he knows, to
tell him that Katsuki’s sorry he’ll have to do it on his own, and that he loves him. He loves
him, he loves him, and god he never fucking told him, but Katsuki loves him with every last
fiber of his being. Katsuki paws at his heart weakly. Just once more. That’s all he asks. Just—
A sharp blast of cold. Pillowy puffs of snow crash into him like a tidal wave. The sudden
shock knocks the air out of his lungs and Katsuki gasps, sharp and painful. He hears glass
shattering as the snow bursts out the windows. The wind roars as fresh air surges in.
Katsuki’s lungs fill with air for the first time and—

Thump, thump, thump. Oh god. Oh thank fucking god. His pulse hammers through him,
jackrabbiting and violently alive. Alive. Katsuki curls in on himself further, hacking and
choking on his sobs.

“Bakugou!” Todoroki cries. “Bakugou! Are you alright?”

Katsuki doesn’t respond. His body is numb to everything except the pounding of his heart.
It’s all he can do to press his hand to his sternum, squeezing his eyes shut and honing in on it.
Alive, alive, alive. He’s fucking alive. Tears stream down his cheeks, but Katsuki barely feels
them.

Todoroki drags him onto his feet. The villain is caged in jagged daggers of ice and Burnin’ is
passed out on the floor. Katsuki doesn’t process any of it. Time stops and starts. Katsuki
blinks once and he’s in the elevator with Todoroki’s arm supporting his weight. Twice and
he’s sitting on the sidewalk outside the office building. A third time and there’s an ambulance
blaring its alarm as it pulls up to the curb. The noise sends a quiver of pain through Katsuki’s
tender heartstrings. He touches his sternum again, making sure his heart is still beating.
Todoroki clamps a hand on his shoulder like he means to comfort him.

Burnin’ is rolled out on a gurney. Paramedics drape a blanket over Katsuki’s shoulders. One
paramedic with a snake tattoo running up his arm checks Katsuki’s vitals. Katsuki snarls as
he shines a light in his eye, but it still feels oddly… detached somehow. Like he’s sitting just
to the left of his body, rather than inhabiting it. He watches the ambulance’s flashing lights
wash the concrete red again and again vacantly.

“He was clutching his chest,” Todoroki tells the paramedic as Katsuki slowly drifts back into
himself. His voice is all earnest concern. “He had heart surgery a little over a year ago. I think
he might have had a heart attack.”

A heart attack. Katsuki is hit with a fresh wave of numbness. God, it wouldn’t surprise him.
Not considering Katsuki’s medical history. The paramedic frowns like he isn’t convinced. He
touches the pulse points on Katsuki’s wrists with the tips of his fingers, and they glow soft,
glittery pink through his latex gloves.

“No, I’m not seeing any signs of cardiac arrest,” the paramedic says, warily. He hooks up a
small clamp to Katsuki’s index finger and hums when it beeps. “Oxygen levels are normal
too.”

What? But it had been so violent. Katsuki had been so sure he was about to die. He’d been
pleading and praying; he’d been saying his goodbyes to Izuku in his head and everything—
Katsuki frowns faintly.
“My guess is inhaling all that smoke gave you some severe heart palpitations,” the paramedic
tells Katsuki, as if he’s really there. “If you’ve had heart trouble before, it might have
triggered a panic attack.”

A panic attack? All of this— everything he just went through— was over a fucking panic
attack? The outrage is there, but muted by the shock. No, no, he can’t be this fucking weak.
He’s going to be the number one hero, he can’t afford to choke like this. What is wrong with
him? Katsuki’s frown deepens into a scowl.

“Bullshit,” he grouses, hoarsely. “I know what I felt.”

The paramedic hums sympathetically.

“You’d be surprised how severe panic attacks can be,” he says, patiently.

Endeavor pulls up in his car then, looking frantic and hugging them both fiercely. Katsuki
can’t even bring himself to shove him off. A panic attack. What would have happened if the
villain hadn’t been so slow to recover? Would Katsuki have been left there, writhing and
useless as the villain descended and turned the building into a heap of rubble when Katsuki’s
quirk destabilized? He would have been toast if Icy Hot hadn’t come to his rescue. Pathetic.
He’s fucking pathetic. How can he call himself a hero if a whiff of smoke is enough to take
him out? Katsuki is so numb it almost feels like he doesn’t have a body at all; the only thing
that cuts through clearly is the revulsion churning inside his gut.

Todoroki and Endeavor argue heatedly about who is going where. Katsuki suddenly can’t
bear to be anywhere near them. He struggles to his feet and is disgusted at himself when his
knees wobble.

“Bakugou?” Todoroki asks, moving toward him.

“Can it, Icy Hot,” Katsuki snaps. “I’m going home.”

But his legs won’t move. Todoroki wraps an arm around his shoulders and Katsuki flinches
from it.

“Get the fuck off me,” he grumbles.

They wrestle him into the car anyway. Katsuki knows it’s for his own good. Maybe muscle
memory could have carried him back to the dorms, but he doubts it. The car starts to move
and Katsuki’s stomach lurches with it. God this sucks. Weak , he thinks. He’s fucking weak.
His hands are shaking too hard to even text Izuku and tell him what happened. He almost
doesn’t want to. He wonders if Izuku will be disappointed in him, if he’ll realize just how
pathetic Katsuki’s always been and he’ll finally lose that sparkling look of admiration in his
eye. He barely hears Todoroki and Endeavor sniping at each other; Todoroki is making
several phone calls that all seem to be going unanswered.

They drop him off at the dorms. Todoroki insists on being dropped off too, which triggers
another argument that Katsuki doesn’t care to listen to. He staggers inside and up the stairs
with great difficulty.
He’s exhausted. The smoke inhalation and the aftershocks of his panic attack have left him
too wiped to do anything but collapse face first onto the couch in the common room. He’s
disgusted with himself and he grits his teeth. He’s weak, pathetic, fucking useless— All too
quickly he’s spiraling again, and now that there’s no one to be embarrassed in front of, the
tears come even more insistently. He tries to fight it, but his chest aches and oh god, he’s
shivering. The tips of his ears and his nose are icy cold. Fuck, is this what Izuku feels like
when he panics? It’s fucking humiliating. Izuku is even stronger than Katsuki gives him
credit for. He’s too fuzzy-headed to remember what he’s supposed to do to calm down. It’s
like a steel-toed boot is being shoved down his throat and he chokes on his sobs. God, fuck
breathe.

The door slams open. Rapid footsteps and familiar panting. Fucking Todoroki, god, Katsuki
can’t cry in front of stupid, goddamn—

“Kacchan?”

Izuku. It’s a cold blast of air shocking him back into his body. It’s like a lifeline tossed out
into the stormy sea of Katsuki’s mind. Finally he has something to latch onto. Something to
stabilize and center him. He wants to push himself off the couch and run to him, but his body
is too heavy to move. His muscles twitch as he tries anyway.

“Izuku,” he says, hoarse into the cushions.

“Kacchan,” Izuku answers, and Katsuki hears him approach. He kneels down beside him,
taking Katsuki by the shoulders and rolling him over. “Kacchan, are you alright?”

Katsuki blinks at him sluggishly. His vision is blurry around the edges, but it’s really him.
Izuku, his Izuku. God the relief hits him like a drug surging through his bloodstream, comfort
and ease blooming through his body and oh god it feels so good. Izuku’s face is streaked with
tears, but his eyes are firm and determined. Freckles disappear into the furrows of Izuku’s
brow as he watches him in concern. He’s still in his hero costume and smells faintly of ozone,
like he’s just used One For All to get himself here. He’s so goddamn beautiful that Katsuki’s
heart stammers again, but this time fearlessly. He’s used to it happening when Izuku is
around.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Izuku whispers, cupping Katsuki’s cheek in his warm, broad palm. He
must have removed his gloves on the way over. His hand trembles slightly. “What happened?
Todoroki-kun said it was a panic attack?”

Katsuki nods once, weakly. Izuku makes a sympathetic sound and his fingers brush over
Katsuki’s cheekbones.

“You’re so cold,” he says, worry etched into every feature. He rubs at the icy nub of
Katsuki’s nose with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

Katsuki means to nod, he does. But then his face crumbles and Izuku is cooing and pulling
him close.
“Oh, Kacchan, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, cradling Katsuki’s head to his collarbone and
rubbing his back. “It was really bad today, wasn’t it?”

Katsuki nods into the crook of his shoulder as he clings to him. He wants to tell him, but he
doesn’t know if he can. His throat is raw from the smoke inhalation and sore with threatening
tears.

“My poor Kacchan,” Izuku coos. He traces spirals over Katsuki’s back. God Katsuki just
wants to melt into Izuku, cocoon themselves under their comforter, and hide away from the
world until this rotten feeling of uselessness subsides. He sniffles and his eyes sting.

“It’s okay,” Izuku assures him. “You’re okay now.”

Katsuki knows. Izuku’s arms are the safest place he’s ever known, the only real home he ever
wants to return to. He allows the tears fall freely then. There’s no point in trying to hide it.
Not from Izuku anyway.

Izuku leans back to look at him, dragging Katsuki’s mask up until it pushes his hair back and
thumbing his cheekbone.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Izuku whispers. “Is that alright?”

Katsuki’s brow twitches into a slight frown. Izuku thumbs at a flyaway lock of his hair.

“I know,” Izuku says, sympathetically. “But I can’t leave you like this. And I know you don’t
want anyone else to see you like this either.”

Fuck, he’s right. Even just the thought makes his stomach sour and he flinches, pain shooting
through his already tender heartstrings. Izuku shushes him gently.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Izuku says again and again. Izuku’s hand slides down
Katsuki’s body, fingers sliding between his own and grasping tight. His wide evergreen eyes
are clear and full of quiet determination. “But it’s just me.”

He brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing Katsuki’s littlest finger again and again. And
despite everything, Katsuki still feels fucking butterflies like he’s a twelve-year old girl or
some shit. God he must look disgusting with tears and snot smeared all over his face.

“Let me keep my promise to you,” Izuku whispers.

It should be humiliating. Katsuki should try to fight it. Some small part of him feels his old
instincts trying to kick in, demanding he shove Izuku off and deal with this on his own.
Hasn’t he been useless enough for one day? But it’s a faint impulse. He looks at Izuku then.
So beautiful and steadfast. Izuku kisses the back of his hand.

“You’d do the same for me,” Izuku says, softly against his skin. “I know you would. You
have. Over and over again. It’s okay for it to be your turn this time.”

Your turn. Somehow it’s okay if it’s just… Katsuki’s turn. He’s guided Izuku through panic
attacks half a hundred times now and has never thought less of Izuku because of it.
Admittedly, that might be because Katsuki is ridiculously, helplessly in love with him, but
Izuku is a better person than he is. He thinks back to Izuku’s promise in the bathroom at
Momo’s party. How good it had felt to be held, even if the vulnerability of the moment had
been terrifying. It still makes Katsuki’s stomach squirm, but this is what Izuku had meant. To
be there for him in times like these, when Katsuki really can’t do it on his own. He blinks
several times as he tries to settle into himself.

“It’s okay to say no,” Izuku adds, quietly. “We can just stay here.”

Katsuki shakes his head. He squeezes Izuku’s fingers, glancing down at their clasped hands
before looking back up again meaningfully.

Please know what I mean, he thinks. Despite coming around to the whole ‘relying on others
thing’, it’s still embarrassing to have to say it outright. Katsuki dips down to kiss Izuku’s
pinky back and Izuku smiles warmly.

“Thank you,” Izuku whispers.

Izuku forces water on him first. Which, holy shit, good call. Katsuki hadn’t even realized just
how dried out his throat had been. He finishes off two full glasses easily and most of a third
too. Izuku then slides an arm under his armpits and helps him to his feet. Katsuki is
dreadfully ashamed at just how wobbly his first step is. And over what? Some fucking
smoke? He’s so goddamn pathetic, so fucking weak. How has he allowed himself to be— to
be—

“Hey, stay with me,” Izuku says, softly. He rubs his shoulder soothingly. “It’s just you and me
right now, okay? It’s just me.”

Right. Katsuki closes his eyes as he forces himself to remember. He’s safe with Izuku. He’s
allowed to rely on him, he’s allowed to be… taken care of. Katsuki takes a steadying breath
and Izuku half-carries him down to the third-years sento, murmuring all the while.

“Remember when we snuck down here last year?” Izuku is saying, talking just to talk. Just to
keep Katsuki from getting lost in his own head again. “Weird that it’s just our sento now. I
thought we were so cool and rebellious back then too.”

Katsuki would snort if he had the energy, but it comes out as just a soft puff through his nose.
Izuku helps him settle onto the bench just outside the actual showers. Even just walking
down here has Katsuki shaking again, so Izuku starts unfastening the clasps of Katsuki’s
gloves for him, shucking them off one by one. His hands move to the zipper of Katsuki’s
winter costume and he raises an eyebrow, silently asking permission.

Fuck. He— Is he really—? Katsuki can hardly believe it. He swallows thickly as his heart
starts to race. It… it should be fine, right? The boys of class 1-A had done something similar
for Izuku after he finally came home from his whole vigilante phase. This should be fine.
Izuku is offering and Katsuki is trembling too hard to use his fine-motor skills anyway. It
isn’t sexual, it's… practical. Necessary even. Katsuki nods his consent.
He regrets it immediately. Izuku starts unzipping him, hands skimming over his torso as he
peels the costume off of him, and it’s fucking agony. It’s so intimate that it feels like there’s a
dagger pressed against Katsuki's jugular. He closes his eyes, but it doesn’t help. He can still
hear Izuku’s soft breathing, feel the heat of his hands as they hover over him, anticipate his
fingertips grazing over his bare skin as Izuku undresses him. Every small touch is coaxing
Katsuki back into his body, quickly overriding the numbing effect of his panic-attack.
Goddamn it, now Katsuki comes back to his senses? Fuck, goddamn it, don’t get fucking
hard right now do not—

“Shhh,” Izuku says, softly. “You’re okay.”

He is most certainly not fucking okay. But he can’t very well tell him that, now can he? Now
he feels like panicking for an entirely different reason. Then Izuku kneels before him as he
unbuckles his belt, looking up at him expectantly. Katsuki’s heart is swollen and surges up to
choke him. No, this can’t be happening. He isn’t— Why would he—

“Stand for me?” Izuku asks, breaking him out of his reverie.

Fuck! Right! Obviously he— What had Katsuki even—? Okay, gay panic fucking later. God,
Katsuki is the most despicable person on the planet for sexualizing this. Izuku is only trying
to take care of him, and here Katsuki is— he banishes the thoughts from his mind. Not
fucking now. Katsuki’s legs tremble, and he has to brace himself on Izuku’s shoulder to stand,
but he manages. Honestly, the panic attack killing his circulation is a goddamn miracle
because otherwise he’d be hard as a fucking rock right now. Izuku shimmies him out of his
baggy pants.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Izuku is whispering, which is not helping just for the fucking
record. “You’re almost there.”

Izuku finishes stripping him, folding Katsuki’s clothes neatly before undressing himself and
tossing his hero-costume to the floor. Katsuki can only stare at him, naked and shivering.
Izuku smiles before wrapping an arm around him and guiding him over to the stool in front
of the shower head. He turns it on, holding it away from Katsuki and testing the temperature
with his fingers. When he’s satisfied, he takes Katsuki’s hand and guides it until it’s under the
stream.

“Good?” Izuku prods. “Warmer? Colder?”

Katsuki doesn’t trust himself to speak. How can he? A gloriously naked Izuku is before him,
looking like an angel, speaking to him so sweetly, and doting on him— Katsuki doesn’t know
how he’s supposed to handle it all. It’s too unbearably close to what he wants: all of Izuku,
exposed and offering himself to him. God there’s so much freckled skin, so much muscle
under a plush layer of healthy fat. He’s fucking perfect and he’s right there in front of him.
Like he’s ready for the taking.

Maybe Katsuki never made it out of that burning building. Maybe he’s still there, laying half-
dead on the ground and this is all just some wild hallucination he’s experiencing as he lays
dying of smoke inhalation. Maybe this is the afterlife. The thought makes him want to laugh.
The gods were hilarious for this one; Katsuki can’t even tell if this is supposed to be heaven
or hell.

“Kacchan?” Izuku prods. “Are you with me?”

Katsuki clears his throat. He struggles for a moment.

“Warmer,” he rasps.

Izuku’s smile brightens the whole room. He turns the heat up a touch.

“Better?” he asks and Katsuki nods. “I’m going to rinse you off now.”

The hot water running over him brings sweet, grounding relief and he sighs with it. Izuku
makes a pleased noise as he maneuvers the shower head to rinse his body over and over
again, like he knows it’s somehow washing away the stress of the day along with the grime.
Next Izuku lathers up a loofa and brings it to Katsuki’s chest.

They make eye contact; Katsuki has to tilt his head up to look at him and Izuku’s silent
question is all too clear in his gaze.

I really must be dreaming, Katsuki thinks. Somehow the thought is comforting. If this isn’t
real, then he doesn’t have to put up a front. There’s no need to act tough. He can just absorb
these tender moments, drink in the experience, and just…. be. Katsuki surrenders to it,
relaxing and nodding his consent.

Izuku sets upon scrubbing every inch of him, lifting Katsuki’s arms one at a time as he works
and kneeling to follow the lines of his legs. Katsuki can only watch and soak it in. Izuku’s
rapt attention is so satisfying. He feels oddly floaty with it. He’s always loved Izuku’s
attention more than anyone else’s. He always looked to Izuku first whenever he did
something impressive as brats, always silently begging Izuku to keep his eyes on him. And
now they were. With such steely focus, too. Izuku’s hands are so gentle, yet methodical, as
they roam over Katsuki’s body and it’s just so Izuku that Katsuki feels like he’s falling in love
all over again. Izuku peeks up at him as he lathers soap over his calves.

“You’re smiling,” Izuku says, warm and non-judgmental.

I’m happy, Katsuki thinks. But it’s more than that. He feels at peace. He didn’t think being
taken care of could be like this; he’d thought the indignity of it all would override any
comfort he might have gained from it. And it is still a little frightening, but in a thrilling way.
Somehow, despite being naked and vulnerable in just about every way imaginable, Izuku still
manages to make him feel safe. Izuku seems to get the message anyway because he’s smiling
back. He lathers Katsuki’s back last.

“I’m going to get your hair wet now,” Izuku warns him.

He waits for Katsuki to acknowledge him before bringing the faucet over his head. Katsuki
shivers as water drizzles down his neck. Izuku turns the faucet off and sets it aside. Katsuki
hears the shampoo bottle crack open and then—
Katsuki gasps at the contact. Thick fingers are digging into his scalp and it’s oh-so-fucking
nice. Pleasure ripples down his spine, tingling down his limbs and warming every inch of his
skin. Oh god, oh wow. What the hell? Katsuki’s moan is only half suppressed.

Izuku pauses. “You okay?”

Katsuki nods frantically. Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop— okay, yes it’s a little mortifying
that he’s responding to it so strongly, but good god are Izuku’s hands heavenly. His nails
scratch his scalp just right, coaxing the last bits of tension out of Katsuki and flooding him
with soft pulses of pleasure. What the fuck is this? Why does it feel so good? Katsuki has no
idea; sensation overrides all coherent thought. He’s only a needing, feeling body.

“Okay,” Izuku says, after way too short a time. “I’m gonna wash myself really quick while
you rinse off. Can you do that for me?”

Katsuki does not whimper at the loss of Izuku’s hands, but it’s a near thing. Izuku makes
quick work of cleaning himself before bringing Katsuki a towel. They forgo soaking in the
tubs after; the sooner they can be snuggled up in bed together, the better.

“Come on,” Izuku says, and even if Katsuki doesn’t really need him to, he allows Izuku to
hold the bathrobe open for him as he slips into it. Katsuki leans on him as they trudge back
up to their room, more out of a desire to touch him than a need for support.

God, Katsuki has never been more grateful to be back in their dorm room. As soon as the
door closes behind them, he collapses face first into their bed and melts into it with a groan.

Izuku tuts. “Oh sweetheart, we’re almost there, I promise.”

Katsuki only grunts in response. He hears Izuku opening their dresser drawers and shuffling
around the room. And then there’s a hand wedging between Katsuki and the mattress and he’s
being flipped over. Izuku hovers over Katsuki, smiling sweetly, and Katsuki just wants to
seize him, curl his body around him, and pass out. Izuku’s brows pinch together, his smile
somewhat sad.

“Kacchan,” he says, almost chiding. “I know. But you’ll feel better in pajamas.”

Damn him. Stupid bastard is always right about everything. Katsuki glares at him, but Izuku
only grins back at him knowingly.

Izuku tries to help him into his sleep shirt, but Katsuki bats him off. He takes the clothes and
stands to dress sluggishly. Izuku throws on one of Katsuki’s skull t-shirts to sleep in and
wiggles into some boxers before sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for Katsuki to finish.
Katsuki turns to him once he’s done, feeling absolutely drained even by the relatively small
task. He supposes he’s had a rough day.

Izuku takes him by the hand and they lay together, face to face and limbs loosely entwined.
Katsuki sighs and the last bit of stress shudders out with it. Finally. Everything is as it should
be. He’s cocooned in a golden bubble of perfect peace. Katsuki finally feels restored,
complete. He gazes at Izuku fondly, and Izuku reaches up to cup his cheek.
I love you, Katsuki thinks. And god, he so desperately wants to say it. He needs to say it
even. Wasn’t that the one thing that had haunted him most when he thought he was dying?
This is it, this is his chance.

Katsuki opens his mouth, but the words stick in his throat. The sudden anxiety pierces his
heart like a thousand tiny needles. What if his confession ruins everything? What if Izuku
doesn’t feel the same and Katsuki loses this tender intimacy between them forever?

Izuku stares at him, so beautiful and serene, thumbing his cheekbone and smiling, smiling,
smiling. What if his confession stole that smile from him forever? Katsuki’s heart shatters
into a million jagged pieces even considering the possibility. God, it kills Katsuki, but he just
can’t bring himself to do it. Telling him feels too much like asking to be loved back. Guilt
gnaws at his ribs. Katsuki knows better than anyone that he will never be worthy of having
his love returned.

“Thank you,” Katsuki says instead, with all the earnestness he can muster.

Izuku’s smile blooms into a full grin. Flushed cheeks, shimmery eyes, and dimples popping
into view. Katsuki wonders if there’s ever been someone as beautiful as Izuku. Probably not.
Izuku wiggles in just a touch closer.

“Thank you for letting me do this,” Izuku returns, softly. “It means a lot to me.”

What? Katsuki jolts so hard that he shakes the bed with it. Thank him? He’s so flabbergasted
that the hazy, dreamlike spell he’s been under shatters.

“What the fuck?” he whispers, hoarse from disuse and Izuku giggles. “The fuck is wrong
with you? Don’t fuckin’ thank me for this.”

Izuku keeps smiling at him like Katsuki is being terribly amusing; Katsuki scowls. Izuku
shrugs one shoulder, looking away shyly.

“I know it isn’t easy for you,” Izuku continues gently. “So I’m grateful.”

“Asshole,” Katsuki mutters. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Izuku says back, teasing and poking him in the chest hard.

“No,” Katsuki says. He jabs him in the belly even harder. “Thank you.”

Izuku giggles, batting his hands away lightly. If Katsuki giggles too, no one has to know.

“Of course,” Izuku relents. He reached up to stroke Katsuki’s cheek again. “Anything.”

Anything. He shouldn’t make offers like that. Katsuki will get the wrong idea, he’ll get
greedy. But… maybe. Maybe there’s one thing Izuku could give him. His hand is already so
close to where Katsuki wants it. His scalp tingles with the memory of being massaged and he
licks his lips nervously. Maybe if Katsuki just thinks it really hard, Izuku will somehow know
what he needs. Katsuki squints at him; a smile toys at Izuku’s lips.
“Yes, Kacchan?” he asks.

Clearly he isn’t getting the message. Katsuki huffs through his nose. He isn’t good at this
part. He’s spoiled really. Izuku makes all of his own needs abundantly clear, but Katsuki
struggles to reciprocate. It’s difficult enough even admitting that he has needs, let alone
asking for them to be met. Katsuki has come around on the whole relying on others thing, but
this— whatever this is with Izuku feels different. More vulnerable somehow. Katsuki nuzzles
into the palm of Izuku’s hand, trying to encourage him. Izuku’s brows quirk in interest, but
his hand remains in place. Ugh. How come he can read his mind in battle, or when they’re
silently agreeing Kaminari is making an ass of himself, but not when Katsuki truly needs him
to? Katsuki scowls harder.

“Such a mean face,” Izuku says softly, thumbing the crease in his brow with a smile. Katsuki
headbutts his fingers. “Hm?”

Katsuki huffs, irritated. He grabs Izuku’s wrist harder than necessary and shoves it against his
head. Izuku giggles.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Izuku teases. Katsuki growls, low and irritated. “Alright, alright
come here.”

He rolls over onto his back and pats his chest. Katsuki drapes himself across Izuku, resting
his cheek against his sternum; Izuku scratches his scalp and fuck. The gentle tingling rushing
through him is so sweet, and so satisfying, and leaves him entirely boneless. Katsuki sighs,
relieved.

“Thank you,” Katsuki whispers gruffly.

Izuku leans in then, pressing a lingering kiss to his brow. Every cell in Katsuki’s body thrums
with it, humming like a plucked harp string.

“Anything,” Izuku says again.

It’s too much. He’s too good for him. Katsuki sometimes feels at war with himself about it.
On one hand, how can he pretend he deserves even a fraction of what Izuku gives him? He’s
lucky enough to have him in his life at all, let alone all of… whatever this is. The guilt eats at
him. It feels like Katsuki is taking advantage of him somehow. Like he’s taking something he
doesn’t have the right to.

But at the same time he knows that it makes Izuku happy to do these things for him. And
Katsuki can’t just reject him; it’d break Izuku’s heart. Katsuki had promised not to push him
away again. He tells himself this is the reason he doesn’t make Izuku stop. But deep down,
Katsuki knows there’s a more selfish motive at play. Izuku’s attention is addictive as it is
intoxicating. And Katsuki is so terribly in love he doesn’t know if he has the strength to end
it, even if he wanted to.

It’s all quickly spiraling out of his control.

Thankfully Katsuki is too busy to linger on those thoughts for long. Everything is ramped up
now that they’re in their third year: training camps, practical exams, and training regimens
are all longer and more intense than ever. They have to do twice as many work studies to
make up for the time lost to the war during their second year, which Katsuki hates. Izuku’s
work study with Togata is the bane of Katsuki’s existence. Togata is messy, inexperienced,
and almost never sends Izuku home at a reasonable hour. Katsuki finds himself marching
over to pick Izuku up himself at least a half dozen times, and often Izuku has been so
overloaded with work that he hasn’t eaten all day. Katsuki starts swinging by on his own
lunch breaks to bully Izuku into taking care of himself.

But Izuku worries about him too. The worst is when Katsuki accidentally smashes his phone
in a high-speed chase with a villain, and within the hour he has a near-hysterical Izuku on his
hands, sobbing about Katsuki’s location suddenly being switched off. Endeavor mercifully
allows Katsuki the time to hold Izuku until he calms down (Katsuki suspects Todoroki had all
but demanded it), but Katsuki doesn’t miss the way Endeavor eyes him afterwards, like he’s
considering something.

It’s all manageable though. They always come home to each other at the end of the day and
that’s what truly matters. Their bed is Katsuki’s sanctuary; Izuku’s arms are his home.
Sometimes, when Togata keeps Izuku late into the night, Katsuki finds himself more irritable
and snappier the next day. Like he needs a fixed amount of Izuku’s affection to recharge his
patience every night.

June rolls around and all of the third years are required to participate in much more intense
internships than usual. The internships would last the entire summer and their options have
been expanded to include several hero agencies outside of Musutafu. Everyone else seems
excited at the prospect of spending their summer in a new city, sleeping in hotels, exploring
new neighborhoods, and really immersing themselves in proper hero work. Izuku and
Katsuki immediately agree to intern together.

“I really wanna see how Mirko does things,” Izuku says, his head pillowed on Katsuki’s pec
as he scrolls through an e-pamphlet about her agency in Fukuoka.

“She has a shitty attitude,” Katsuki warns him and Izuku giggles, patting Katsuki’s stomach
good-naturedly. “Could be cool though.”

Izuku hums. “I know you want to intern with Best Jeanist though.”

Of course he does. Katsuki would rather shove his hand down a garbage disposal than admit
it, but he has a tender spot in his heart for the mentor who took him under his wing. Jeanist
would never hold it against him if he chose to intern with someone else though. He might
even recommend it, especially since he knows Katsuki’s ultimate goal is opening his own
hero agency someday. Getting a sampling of how several different agencies operate would be
the most sensible approach. But truthfully, Kasuki only cares about going where Izuku goes.
There wouldn’t be a point in exploring a new city if he had to do it without Izuku.

“Right, Kacchan?” Izuku prods. He tugs on Katsuki’s sleep shirt, trying to reclaim his
attention.

“Yeah I did,” Katsuki confesses. “But if you want to go to Mirko’s then we should go there.”

Izuku tsks. He shuffles, rolling over under Katsuki’s arm to meet his gaze. Katsuki loves the
way his freckled cheek smushes against his chest, even when his eyes are stern.

“Kacchan,” he says, scolding lightly. “It can’t be all up to me. We’re in this together.”

He takes Katsuki’s hand and links their pinkies, pulling Katsuki’s to his lips briefly.

“Remember?” he presses.

Katsuki’s heart softens. “I remember.”

They weigh out the pros and cons for the better part of an hour. Izuku sits up and grabs his
notebook, chewing on the end of his pencil as he lists them all out. Todoroki has also invited
both of them to intern with his father’s agency again, of course, but Izuku quickly rules that
one out, citing the need to diversify their pool of experience. In the end, they both decide
Mirko is the best option overall.

“I heard she even has a sidekick who is quirkless,” Izuku confesses, looking pleased and
clutching his notebook with nervous hands. “I guess she’s some kind of tech genius who
makes her own equipment and everything—Hatsume-san says she’s her idol! I was hoping to
ask her about coming up with a support item for me to replace Blackwhip. Hatsume-san has
just been so busy with finals, she’s only had time to draw up some rough sketches, but she
says Shimizu-san is the real deal!”

Katsuki covers Izuku’s fidgeting hand with his own.

“Then we’ll go there,” Katsuki says, in a low voice. “And see if that loony-ass gearhead
knows what she’s talkin’ about.”

Izuku smiles at him, all dimples and rosy cheeks; Katsuki’s heart feels like it’s a sun-warmed
pool of honey. It should have been perfect. Would have been perfect even.

The day after they submit their applications Principal Nezu calls them both up into his office.

Katsuki knows something is wrong as soon as he sees Aizawa and All Might are also there
waiting for them. Aizawa has his arms folded across his chest as he leans against the wall and
All Might sits with his hands clasped in his lap, looking equally as grim. Principal Nezu
smiles at them from behind his desk gently.

“Please have a seat boys,” he says, gesturing.

Katsuki and Izuku exchange glances. An entire conversation passes between them
wordlessly. What could this be about? Are they in trouble? Is this about bed-sharing? Katsuki
knows technically it’s against the rules, but surely as saviors of Japan they could be cut a
little slack. Who were they to tell him how to best cope with their trauma? It would be
fucking cruel to force them to stop. Katsuki feels a stab of irritation at the thought. They sit
down slowly and Izuku reaches for his hand, lacing their fingers together in Katsuki’s lap.

“Ah,” Nezu says, holding his paws up. “No need to look so frightened, boys. No one is in
trouble.”

Katsuki isn’t the least bit relieved. All Might won’t meet his gaze, looking more sunken-in
than usual, and Aizawa hasn’t seemed so exhausted since the war.

“I see you have both applied to be in the study-abroad program with Mirko,” Nezu says, with
such perfect neutrality that Katsuki doesn’t even know where to begin trying to decipher it.
Katsuki’s brows pinch.

“What?” Katsuki demands. “Has she not accepted us?”

Principal Nezu shakes his head, not-unkindly, but it grinds Katsuki’s gears anyway. Get to the
point before Izuku has a godddamn panic-attack, you stupid fucking rat. Izuku squeezes his
fingers so tightly that his fingers tingle with the lack of blood flow.

“I’m afraid we cannot allow you both to intern with Pro Hero Mirko,” Nezu says. “One of
you will need to go somewhere else.”

Perfect silence. Katsuki’s heart stills for at least three-solid seconds. He shakes it off quickly.

“Fine,” Katsuki says crisply and he turns to Izuku. “Edgeshot’s old agency is in Fukuoka. I'll
go there.”

Izuku softens with his smile, but there are several uncomfortable noises from the adults.
Principal Nezu smacks his lips, clasping his paws in front of him.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand me,” he continues, every word careful and measured. “We
cannot allow you two to intern in the same city this summer.”

It’s like a bullet shot straight through the center of his chest. Katsuki winces. Pain rattles
through his ribcage and leaves him icy with violent aftershocks. No, no god please no. This
can’t be right. They can’t be serious. His gaze whips around to All Might and Aizawa, but
their frowns are a bad fucking sign. Dread laces through Katsuki like poison in his veins.

“Are you fucking serious?” he snaps. Katsuki’s heart pounds like he’s just been thrust into
battle. “Why the fuck not?”

“Language,” Aizawa warns, flatly. Katsuki sends him a sharp look; Principal Nezu’s smile
doesn’t reach his eyes.

“As your teachers and mentors we have to do what is best for both you and your futures as
Pro Heroes,” Nezu continues, infuriatingly calm. “Aizawa-sensei tells me you’ve become
increasingly reliant upon one another this past year.”

“So what?” Katsuki seethes. The rage surges within him, lava-hot and clashing messily with
the lingering cold of his shock. It feels like every organ has taken a side in a war of terrible,
raging emotions. Fury, dread, helplessness, sorrow, fear, fucking fury again. “It’s called
fucking teamwork.”

Aizawa sighs heavily.

“It’s called codependency,” he says. “And it’s a serious threat to you both.”

It feels like a bowling ball dropping into Katsuki’s gut, obliterating his organs and smashing
through his spine. Izuku’s shoulders hunch, shrinking in on himself, and Katsuki barely
resists the urge to pull him into his arms right there in front of all their teachers.

“No it fucking isn’t,” Katsuki says, venomously. “We’re just— we’re just fucking better as a
team! That doesn’t— It doesn’t mean—”

But he knows it isn’t quite true. Just the thought of being apart from Izuku for so long makes
him feel like his arteries have shrunken four sizes. Katsuki wants to Howitzer Impact all of
their stupid concerned adult faces for even suggesting it. So what if Izuku needs him? Is that
a crime now? They can’t do this to them. They can’t fucking take Izuku away from him.

“Plenty of pros have hero partners,” Katsuki argues, even though it makes his heart race
faster than ever. Alright, so they’ve never verbally agreed to be hero partners after
graduation, but Izuku did swear to stay at Katsuki’s side all his life. That was close enough,
right?

“Even hero partners get separated sometimes,” All Might chimes in gently. “Especially top
heroes. A large part of this job is going where you’re needed, and that doesn’t always mean
going together. When you join hero agencies next year, you will need to obey orders and go
where you’re needed, including sometimes overseas. And if you ever plan to open a hero
agency of your own someday, there will undoubtedly be missions where one of you will need
to go abroad and leave the other to hold down the fort.”

Every throb of Katsuki’s heart feels like a fucking dagger plunging into his chest. He…
goddamn it he has a point. Unfortunately. Katsuki grits his teeth until his jaw aches. Izuku’s
hand has gone limp in his own and he stares at the floor vacantly, eyes flat and lifeless.

“I’m afraid that if you’re not able to do this, we would not be able to provide either of you
with full hero licenses,” Principal Nezu says, softly.

Katsuki wants to vomit. All of his boiling rage is dropped into stone-cold oblivion. No
licenses. No agency. Their futures flushed down the drain. Twelve weeks apart from Izuku or
else their dreams will be shattered. It’s a fucking outrage. It’s the most infuriating thing
Katsuki has ever heard in his life. They can’t seriously be doing this to them. They have to be
bluffing. Katsuki’s mouth tastes like battery acid.
“This is fucking unbelievable,” Kastuki says, hoarsely. “After everything we’ve fucking
sacrificed, after everything we’ve fucking done--”

“I’m afraid it’s out of our hands,” Principal Nezu says. His voice sounds heavy, almost
remorseful. “The Hero Public Safety Commission’s board has reviewed both of your files and
they need proof that you’re able to operate as separate individuals before you’re deemed
stable enough to perform hero work.”

Stable? Katsuki will show this stupid rat fucking stable. Katsuki is ready to lunge across the
desk and strangle him, but All Might stands then suddenly.

“Bakugou-shounen,” he says, in his deep, oaky timbre. “I know how much you care about
Midoriya-shounen. And I am so proud of both of you for coming together and learning to
rely upon one another’s strengths. Nothing would make me happier to see you two become
hero partners and carry on my legacy as new Symbols of Peace.”

His mouth purses into a flat, grim line.

“I did go to the board myself to argue for leniency considering the circumstances,” he says
before sighing gently. “But I’m afraid they do have a point. There is no guarantee you will
always be able to be at each other’s sides, especially in battle. Your partnership will be
improved if you are both capable of standing on your own before coming together. We need
you to combine your strengths, rather than being dependent on one another for that
strength.”

Katsuki shakes his head angrily. He swipes at the tears running down his face with his fist.

“We’ve already proven we can fucking stand on our own,” Katsuki counters, voice cracking.
“He took down Shigaraki, I took down All For One. We’ve already proved it.”

“And since then, you’ve haven’t been able to spend longer than a school day apart without an
incident,” Aizawa chimes in. He steps forward and flips a folder open on Principal Nezu’s
desk and pushes it over to them. A big fat stack of ‘incident’ reports. Fuck. “We had hoped
that since you took on separate work-studies that you were showing signs of improving. But
Lemillion and Endeavor have both expressed their concerns about the two of you, and they’re
not the only ones who’ve noticed. The media has caught wind of your…. reliance upon one
another and rumors are starting to spread.”

Rumors? Katsuki is taken aback. He hasn’t looked at a gossip article in well over a year
thanks to the media-blocking software installed on his phone. Izuku looks up sharply too.
Katsuki sees him mouth the word in confusion.

“To be very frank with both of you,” Principal Nezu cuts in. “It places a large and obvious
target on both of your backs to be seen as so dependent on one another. Especially as people
are looking to you two to be the new Symbols of Peace. Should any villain organization wish
to follow in All For One’s footsteps, knowing that they can destabilize you by separating you
could lead to devastating consequences.”
They’re right. Katsuki knows they’re right. The horror of it is like a blanket on the flames of
his rage. He knows he has to do this, but Christ if it doesn’t fucking hurt. Katsuki feels like
he’s been cored like an apple, his skin peeled raw and stinging. He tastes bile at the back of
his throat. All he wants to do is scoop Izuku up into his arms and carry him away from all of
this bullshit hero-politics, this scrutiny, and start new lives together as—as— fuck. Katsuki is
heavy with the realization. They can’t just run away. He can’t imagine them being anything
but heroes. He squeezes his eyes shut as he grasps tight onto his resolve. He can’t let Izuku’s
dream be ripped away from him like this. He has to be strong. For Izuku.

Katsuki turns toward Izuku then. He’s as still as a statue. His face is gray, tears are streaming
rivers down his cheeks, but no sound escapes him. Tears plop like fat raindrops onto his shirt
and Katsuki rounds back on the adults with fury.

“So, what do we do about it then?” he demands.

“One of you can take the study-abroad program with Mirko,” Principal Nezu says, patiently.
“And the other will stay here and take an internship within the city. You’ll go on patrols and
everyone will see just how well you’re able to work without one another. The board will be
satisfied, those pesky codependency rumors will be squashed, and then you’ll be more than
welcome to apply to be registered hero partners after you graduate.”

Twelve weeks. It feels more like twelve years. Katsuki closes his eyes; the dread reverberates
through him like a gong being struck in his chest over and over again.

“This is fucking stupid,” Katsuki spits.

All Might hums sympathetically.

“It’s only a few weeks,” he says, kind and low. “You’re both so much stronger than you
realize. I know you can do it.”

”We are more than happy to provide copies of your incident reports to your therapists to see
what their suggestions are for helping you through this process,” Principal Nezu adds.

Izuku stands abruptly, his chair screeching against the hardwood floor. He bows deeply then,
low enough that his forehead brushes against Principal Nezu’s desk, before turning on his
heel and fleeing. Katsuki leaps to his feet, but Izuku has already slammed the door behind
him.

“Izuku!” he cries. He swivels around to skewer Principal Nezu with his fiercest glare, before
charging after him. “Izuku, wait!”

He swings the door open, but the hall is empty. Izuku must have used One For All to escape
faster. Fuck! Where could he have gone? Katsuki somehow already knows. His heart is
racing. He’s sore and aching with agony as the reality of their situation starts to hit him.
Three months. Twelve weeks. Eighty-four fucking days. Ridiculous. Katsuki almost doesn’t
care if it’s for Izuku’s own good— almost. He sprints down the hall at full speed, racing
down the stairs three at a time, only the lingering scent of ozone proves that Izuku was ever
here.
He passes Iida on his way toward their dorms, ignoring his chastising shouts about not
running in the halls. Like he fucking cares. All that matters is Izuku. His gray face, his
lifeless eyes. God fucking dammit, how is Katsuki ever supposed to leave him if the mere
suggestion of it has him looking so despondent? Their friends are clustered together on the
couches in the common room, laughing over a game of Mario Kart, but Katsuki doesn’t
acknowledge any of their questioning cries or greetings. He marches up the stairs, swinging
the door open to their dorm and—

Izuku is curled up in bed, his face buried in a pillow, and body heaving with his sobs. He
doesn’t even seem to hear Katsuki come in. He jolts when Katsuki’s weight sinks onto the
bed.

“Just me,” Katsuki murmurs, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Izuku sobs harder. He pushes himself up, abandoning his pillow, and throwing himself at
Katsuki instead. Katsuki clutches his trembling body and rubs his back soothingly. Izuku
latches onto him so tightly that Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if he’s channeling a tiny
amount of One For All to keep him in place.

“I’m so sorry,” Katsuki whispers into his throat.

“I can’t do it!” Izuku wails. He wracks them both with the force of his weeping. “I can’t, I
can’t—I don’t want to! I don’t—”

“Shhh, shhh,” Katsuki says. He’s ready to murder every single one of the board members for
this, Aizawa and the stupid fucking rat too. All Might can stay, but he’s on thin fucking ice.
He needs to get Izuku’s anxiety meds from his bedside drawer and maybe an ice-pack to put
on his vagus nerve too. He’s well-versed in what to do when Izuku has a panic attack, but it’s
been a minute since he’s seen one this bad. “Hey, breathe with me, alright? Don’t worry
about any of that right now, just breathe.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, hoarsely. “ Kacchan. ”

“I’m right here,” Katsuki says. He wants to say he isn’t going anywhere either, but that’s not
fucking true, is it? Three whole goddamn months. What is he supposed to do? Katsuki has
never felt so helpless.

“What are we supposed to do?” Izuku says, like he really can read Katsuki’s mind. Katsuki’s
shirt is soaking with Izuku’s tears and sticking to his skin. “I don’t wanna do this, I don’t
wanna do this. ”

“Hey, just breathe with me, Zu,” Katsuki says. He slides a hand between their chests,
pressing down on Izuku’s sternum. “Are you listening? I need you to breathe with me.”

Izuku nods frantically. Katsuki counts him through it, murmuring his praises when Izuku
follows his lead. It’s shaky, broken up by his ragged sobbing, but eventually his trembling
subsides enough that Katsuki feels safe to continue.
“I am going to let go of you,” Katsuki warns him. Izuku’s whine is loud and childlike in a
way that makes Katsuki ache. He seizes Katsuki so tightly that his nails bite into his shoulder
blades through his shirt. “Shhh, I’m not going anywhere. I need you to take your meds. Can
you do that for me?”

Izuku sniffles and whimpers, but nods his head sorrowfully. Katsuki remains as close to
Izuku as he can as he leans over to his bedside drawer, retrieving the meds and a water bottle.
Katsuki opens the cap on his medication for him, but when Izuku holds out his palm to take
the pill, he’s shaking so hard that Katsuki doesn’t trust him not to drop it.

“Just open your mouth,” Katsuki murmurs. He takes the small white pill and places it on
Izuku’s tongue, bracing Izuku’s elbow as he holds the water bottle to his lips to wash it down.
He must be dehydrated because he almost finishes the entire thing. Katsuki lets both bottles
fall to the floor and embraces him again.

“Good job, Zu,” Katsuki whispers his praises. He cups the back of his head as he holds Izuku
close. “Thank you. You’re doing so good for me.”

Izuku’s weeping is weakening, but his grip isn't. His hands feel like steel clamps bunching up
the back of Katsuki’s shirt.

“I can’t do it,” Izuku admits, quietly and choked. “I can't, I don't want to.”

Katsuki’s heart shatters. He turns his face in toward him, resting his cheek against Izuku’s
temple.

“It’s not gonna be forever,” Katsuki says, hoping he sounds more soothing than he feels. “Just
a few weeks.”

“Too many weeks,” Izuku whines. Katsuki’s skin stings where Izuku’s knuckles dig into the
ridges of his spine. “I don’t— I can’t—”

Katsuki presses his lips against Izuku’s temple for a long, drawn out moment. His mind reels
as he searches for solutions.

“I’m gonna see you every weekend,” Katsuki promises, murmuring into his hair. “And call
you every night.”

Izuku sobs again. Katsuki kisses his forehead twice more before cradling him to his chest and
rocking him back and forth.

“It’s not fair,” Izuku whispers.

Katsuki forces himself to take deep, steadying breaths. He has to be the fucking strong one
here, he has to. Even if the thought of being apart for so long feels like it might kill him, he
knows he has to be what Izuku needs right now. He struggles to think of anything— anything
that might lessen the blow.

“It’s just going to be one summer,” he manages, weakly.

“It’s such a long time,” Izuku complains. “I just— I wanted—”

“I know,” Katsuki says, softly. “I know.”

There’s a long moment where all they do is hold one another. Izuku sniffles and Katsuki’s
mind reels. Everything feels so different now. It’s like the ground has been swept out from
under him and they’re in a free fall, with no hope of anything softening the blow at the
bottom. No, fuck, toughen up. They’re goddamn heroes. There has to be some way to get
through this.

“What if they’re right?” Izuku whispers, eventually. “What if— what if we can’t help people
because we’re— we’re too—”

“No,” Katsuki cuts him off firmly. “No, fuck that. We’re better as a fucking team. We’re
going to help more people because we’re a fucking team, you got that? Those old shitbags
don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“But what if we can’t always be together?” Izuku whispers.

“What do you mean?” Katsuki demands. He reels back, just far enough to look at him head
on. Izuku crumples with his frown, shrugging half-heartedly.

“I dunno… just what if… what if we’re—” Izuku winces and looks away. “Separated.”

“Listen to me,” Katsuki says, roughly. He squeezes Izuku’s shoulder. “It’s never happening.
After this summer, nothing is separating us ever again.”

“But—”

“No fucking buts,” Katsuki cuts him off. He seizes Izuku’s face in his hands. He doesn’t
shake him, but it’s a near thing. “You’re the one who said the rest of our lives. You wanna get
rid of me?”

“No! No, of course not!” Izuku cries, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. “I meant it! I
promise!”

It shouldn’t be such a relief to have it spoken aloud. Shouldn’t it be obvious? Izuku is near-
hysterical at the prospect. Every day Izuku proves that he wants him around, and yet putting
it into words gives it another weight entirely. I promise , he’d said. Katsuki thinks back to the
very first promise made between them, little over a year ago now. It had been such a spur-of-
the-moment, impromptu thing. Born of desperation rather than devotion. Suddenly doesn’t
feel good enough; it no longer captures the intensity and enormity of what he feels. And
besides. Izuku’s promise back to him had been so much better. So much more thoughtful, and
sweet, and heartfelt. Katsuki can’t let that stand. They’re fucking equals now, dammit. He
won’t let Izuku out do him here.

Katsuki tilts forward, letting his forehead rest against Izuku’s.

“You and me,” Katsuki says, quietly. “I promise you. Just this one summer apart and then it’s
you and me for the rest of our lives. Wherever you wanna go, I’ll follow you. Whatever you
wanna do, I’ll do it with you. I don’t give a fuck what hero agencies tell us to go where. If
they don’t let us stay together then we’ll start our own and make our own rules. If you’re lost,
or kidnapped, or whatever the hell else, I’ll come after you. I’ll scour the face of the earth
until I find you again. It’s us, Izuku. Forever. I’m not letting you go.”

A long pregnant pause. Izuku hiccups and sniffles.

“You mean it?” he asks, faintly.

“Course I mean it,” Katsuki tries to scoff, but it comes out weak and unconvincing. Izuku is
quiet for another moment.

“Just one summer?” he repeats. “And then… forever?”

“Forever,” Katsuki confirms.

Izuku winds his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, tucking himself into his throat and sighing
deeply.

“I still hate it,” he admits.

“Me too,” Katsuki says. He rubs Izuku’s back.

Izuku is quiet for another beat, but Katsuki can practically feel the thoughts whirling around
in his head.

“You really wanna be my hero partner?” Izuku asks, devastatingly soft.

“Of course,” Katsuki says, like it’s obvious. And then he’s hit with a stab of uncertainty. “If
you wanna be.”

Izuku sniffs. Katsuki can hear him trying to breathe evenly.

“Our hero agency,” Izuku continues. “I want—I want ours to be like Mirko’s— where
quirkless people are given the chance to be heroes too.”

“Done,” Katsuki agrees, squeezing him. “Anything else?”

Izuku shakes them both with his sudden, watery laugh.

“Anything?” he repeats, warm with amusement. Katsuki hums his confirmation and Izuku is
quiet again.

“I… I want to live together,” Izuku confesses, eventually. Almost too quiet to be heard.
“After we graduate.”
“Okay,” Katuski says. He pretends the idea doesn’t shake him to the core. He can’t lie and
say that this isn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for—he honestly can’t remember how he
ever slept without Izuku curled around him—but hearing that Izuku wants it hits him where it
hurts. Katsuki swallows thickly. “Where?”

“I— I dunno,” Izuku admits. “Haven’t thought about that part yet.”

It doesn’t matter really. Katsuki’s home is wherever Izuku is. Izuku could announce he wants
to move to Norway, and Katsuki would only complain mildly. Okay, maybe he’d never stop
bitching about it, but whatever. As long as he gets to sleep with Izuku in his arms every night
then it’s fine. Everything else is secondary.

“One summer,” Katsuki repeats. “And then never again.”

“Never again,” Izuku echoes.

Instead of winding pinkies, they remain wound around one another, but Katsuki feels as
though the promise is just as binding all the same.

It’s like there’s a guillotine hanging over their necks. The date of their separation looms
closer and closer, and suddenly the days seem to be slipping through Katsuki’s fingers like
rushing water. Izuku is sleeping less, eating less, and has somehow become clingier than ever.
He constantly needs to be touching Katsuki, whether it’s clutching the corner of Katsuki’s
shirt, or leaning his cheek against his bicep, or holding his hand. He’s just all over him. It’s
like they’re back at square one during their hospital stay after the war. Katsuki cancels his
regular sparring sessions with Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero to instead hide away in his
room with Izuku, cradling him to his chest like soaking in skin-to-skin contact now will make
being apart later not so bad.

Katsuki helps him pack. He reminds him to get his prescriptions refilled, memorizes the train
schedule for him, gets them both air-tags sewn into their hero costumes in case their phones
get smashed and locations switch off, and he even buys Izuku one of those goofy weighted
plush toys for him to hold at night. Izuku cries when he sees it, tugging on the bunny’s fluffy
green ears sadly.

“I love it,” he whispers, but he immediately pushes it aside to hug Katsuki instead. “I love it
so much.”

The night before he leaves, Izuku raids Katsuki’s dresser for shirts to sleep in. He fishes them
out one by one, holding them to his face and breathing them in before deciding whether to
cram them into his suitcase or not. He takes more than he really needs to, but Katsuki isn’t
going to complain. He’s too busy watching Izuku, trying to memorize as much of him as he
can before he leaves. How his shoulder blades move under his t-shirt, how the scar tissue
striping his arms ripples in the light, the little twitches in his expression that give away every
whirling thought in his head. God, he isn’t even gone yet and Katsuki somehow feels like
he’s already missing him. Maybe their teachers have a point about the whole codependent
thing. Katsuki hadn’t realized just how much of his sense of security relies upon knowing
he’ll reunite with Izuku every night. Sleeping with Izuku in his arms, hearing the soft tenor of
his voice, basking in the heat of his skin. Thinking that long days will drag on without him
feels like fucking torture.

Izuku rounds on him suddenly, eyes bright like green fire.

“Give me the shirt you’re wearing,” he demands.

Katsuki brows twitch up in surprise. He snorts lightly when it clicks.

“Really?” he asks.

Izuku tosses him something else to wear with a firm look. Katsuki sits up and exchanges it
out for him dutifully. Izuku hugs it to his chest and breathes it in, nodding before tucking it
into his suitcase.

“Oi,” Katsuki says, gruffly. He’s almost too embarrassed to ask, but well, fuck Izuku started
it. “Gimme yours too.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, evidently surprised for some fucking reason. He strips it off, a stupid
blue thing with the word ‘pajamas’ written on it, and tosses it over. Weird how the shirt
smells so much different when they use the same laundry detergent. Izuku’s scent is so
masculine and comforting, with hints of his vanilla-and-chamomile body wash clinging to the
fabric. Katsuki hopes it lingers until they’re reunited once again.

Izuku double-checks that he has everything before zipping up his suitcase.

“Okay,” he says, nodding to himself. “I think… I think I have everything.”

Katsuki briefly considers tricking him into leaving something behind so Katsuki has an
excuse to go to Fukuoka and bring it to him. But that wouldn’t exactly do them any favors
proving just how not-codependent they are, would it? Honestly, they’re lucky they’re even
being allowed to see each other on the weekends. Thank god what they do in their personal
time can’t be held against them. It’s just their hero work they need to prove they can do on
their own, not their lives.

“Okay,” Katsuki says. He gestures with his head. “C’mere.”

Izuku crawls into bed with him, sliding his arms around Katsuki’s torso and squeezing tight.

“It’s only four nights really,” Izuku says, after a moment of just soaking in one another’s
presence. “As soon as I’m off on Friday, I’ll take the first train back and spend the weekend
here with you. And I’ll wake up early on Monday to go back.”

Katsuki hums.
“You suck at wakin’ up early,” he counters, low and warning.

“I can do it,” Izuku insists. He takes Katsuki’s hand and squeezes it, a look of fierce
concentration on his face. “You’ll help me wake up.”

Katsuki really isn’t very good at waking up early either, but he nods. He has a solemn vow to
uphold after all. Katsuki brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing Izuku’s littlest finger
three times in quick succession.

“I can handle four nights,” Izuku whispers firmly. “I can, I can.”

Neither of them manages to sleep much. Instead they hold one another, watching each other
and whispering as the night creeps by slowly. Izuku’s eyelids get heavy, but Katsuki watches
him force them open again and again.

“It’s okay,” Katsuki tells him. “Just sleep.”

Izuku stubbornly keeps fighting it anyway and Katsuki snorts, grinning despite himself.

Katsuki is half-dead on his feet when their alarm sounds off, but he insists on walking Izuku
to the train station. They wear baseball caps and sunglasses to avoid the press, fingers tangled
all the while. Katsuki’s chest aches. It’s so early that the train station is almost entirely
abandoned. One elderly man sniffs at his newspaper in the far corner and a handful of tired-
looking women are slumped over on the benches. Katsuki checks the little schedule hanging
on the bulletin board. Fifteen minutes before Izuku’s train arrives.

Izuku turns toward him then. Katsuki can see his eyes over his shades and they’re already
tearing up. Izuku reaches for him, framing Katsuki’s face with his hands.

“Promise to call me,” he whispers.

“Promise,” Katsuki echoes. Izuku nods. “Text me when you get there.”

It’s only about two hours away. Katsuki knows that, on some level, they’re severely
overreacting. But the knowledge he’ll sleep alone tonight makes his heart feel like a leadened
thing in his chest. And he knows it’ll be worse for Izuku. God this fucking sucks. Katsuki
should have bribed that welder-quirk guy into fusing them together so they didn’t have to do
this bullshit. He draws Izuku into his arms, squeezing him until his back cracks. Izuku almost
laughs.

“Remind me to have you do that again when I come home,” he jokes.

Anything, Katsuki thinks. I’ll do anything. Just come home. Just come back to me. His
baseball cap gets knocked askew when he burrows his face deeper into Izuku’s shoulder. He’s
only vaguely aware of disapproving stares from the gaggle of women. It doesn’t matter. He’s
above decency for Izuku.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much,” Izuku says, almost too soft to be heard. God, Katsuki
is going to miss the weight and pressure of his arms locked around him.
“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees. “Me too.”

The whistle sounds. The train pulls into the station, rolling to a stop. The doors open with a
hiss and bodies start to migrate toward the carriages. This is it. This is the time. Katsuki
watches it over Izuku’s shoulder with a painful knot in his throat.

“You better go,” Katsuki says, softly.

“In just a second,” Izuku insists. He drags his hands up and down Katsuki’s back, like he’s
trying to memorize him with his palms.

Katsuki allows him one moment. Then another. Fuck, it takes everything in him to draw
back. Izuku whines low in his throat.

“Izuku,” Katsuki chides.

“I know,” Izuku says. “I know.”

He rips himself out of Katsuki’s arms, face screwed up in agony. His eyes are bright with
unshed tears.

“I’ll call you,” Izuku says, retreating. He steps backwards, not breaking eye contact.

“You fucking better,” Katsuki says, hoarsely. Izuku’s laugh is weak.

“I will,” he promises. He turns away. And then immediately he’s spinning back around and
throwing himself into Katsuki’s arms once again. Katsuki barks out a watery laugh.

“If you miss your train I’ll fucking kill you,” he vows in a whisper, even as he clings to him.

“I know,” Izuku says. The warning chime goes off. “Fuck!”

He leaves a smacking kiss on Katsuki’s cheek before he yanks away, crackling green
lightning encircling his limbs as he sprints for the train, just barely ducking into the carriage
on time. Katsuki laughs; goddamn ridiculous nerd. He’s buzzing with the kiss, his heart
galloping in his chest, and the feelings clash strangely with the nausea as it hits him that this
is it. It’s really happening. Izuku is leaving. He looks at Katsuki through the window panel,
pressing his palm to the glass and Katsuki can’t help it. The train starts to move, and Katsuki
chases after it, smacking the window where Izuku’s hand rests. Izuku laughs, tears trailing
down his cheeks.

Katsuki follows the train until it disappears into the tunnel. Despite the warmth of early
summer, the rush of air in its wake leaves Katsuki ice cold. Gone. Some part of Katsuki still
hadn’t really believed it would happen and yet here it is. Katsuki is alone. And will be for
four solid days. God, it’s like his heart has been torn from his body, heartstrings vomiting out
of his chest cavity, tangled around his ribs and pulling taut in the direction of Izuku. The
resolve to be strong has vanished with him and Katsuki’s eyes sting, his throat becoming
heavy and sore. Fuck! He swipes away the tears angrily.
Despite his valiant efforts, he’s still crying when he returns to the dorms. All of their irritating
friends are there waiting for him. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Uraraka, and even Iida all
crowd around him, taking turns hugging him and patting his back like Izuku has fucking died
or something. The indignity of it all finally gives Katsuki the strength to compose himself.

“You’re all fucking annoying,” he growls. Mina presses a tissue into his hands and he blows
his nose. “Thanks.”

Kirishima rubs shoulder consolingly. “He’ll be back before you know it.”

Nothing could be further from the truth. The hours drag on like cold molasses. Katsuki feels
frozen in time. He does his best not to let it show, but Jeanist eyes him like he knows
something is wrong. Katsuki checks his phone so often that his battery drains twice as fast.
There’s always a myriad of emotions every time Izuku texts him: joy, hope, a stab of pain.
His favorites are selfies, but they also hurt. God he misses him so fucking much it feels like
he’s hollowed out with it.

Katsuki puts on a brave face though. He has to; all of this is for fucking nothing if he can’t
keep his act together. Jeanist has put him out on patrol in heavily-populated areas and during
the daylight hours. He needs to be seen dammit, so he’ll be fucking seen. Jeanist and Fat
Gum’s agencies are working close together, so Katsuki gets to patrol with Kirishima, which is
nice at least. He doesn’t pressure Katsuki to talk about it, and doesn’t call him out for
constantly checking his phone on their breaks. He even goes so far as to stick around after
their shifts wrap up, chatting jovially as they get ramen at the usual spot just off campus.

Katsuki doesn’t complain when Kirishima drags him to his room for a ‘Boys Night.’ They
crack open some beers; Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima all start a game of the greatly inferior
Red Riot Bash and Crash, while Katsuki curls up on the beanbag chair and tolerates it all as
best he can. He keeps checking Izuku’s location. Still at Mirko’s agency, even though it’s
well after seven. He scowls fiercely. They better not be working him too hard. Katsuki shoots
him a text and Izuku’s response is lightning quick.

“Just chatting with Shimizu-san!” he writes.

Ping! And there’s a selfie of him with the techy-girl Hatsume had told them about. They’re
both smiling, and the girl is pretty, oil-smeared with dangly beaded braids hanging over her
shoulders. Katsuki only spares her a glance. Izuku . God, seeing him feels like an arrow
puncturing Katsuki’s lung. Izuku is flashing him the peace sign; his cheek bunched up and
squishy looking as he winks at the camera. Katsuki touches it through the phone screen with
two gentle fingers, but it’s a poor replacement for Izuku’s actual face.

“You good over there?” Kirishima asks, lightly.

“What?” Katsuki barks, jolting a little. He holds his phone to his chest like he’s just been
caught doing something shameful. Kaminari sends him a knowing grin.

“He’s gonna come back,” Kaminari assures, leaning over to pat Katsuki’s knee. Katsuki kicks
at him half-heartedly.
“It’s only been, what, ten-hours since you last saw him?” Sero adds. He takes a long swig of
his beer.

Katsuki shoots daggers at him. Their teasing has softened since Momo’s party, but they just
can’t seem to help themselves sometimes. Kirishima punches Sero on the shoulder.

“Hey, he’s allowed to miss him,” Kirishima says. “They’re— you know.”

Katsuki frowns. They hadn’t told anyone why Izuku was being mandated to intern in another
city, just that he had to and they were both unhappy about it. Did… did everyone know they
were (apparently) codependent? Oh god. Katsuki’s stomach squirms uncomfortably at the
thought. Maybe their teachers had a point. He considers asking for the copies of those
incident reports for his therapist, even if the word ‘codependent” makes him feel like he’s
being strangled. He indulges himself in another beer to wash it all down.

Katsuki bails as soon as he gets the ready text from Izuku. His drunk, idiot friends all whine
about it, and Kaminari clutches at his ankle in an attempt to make him stay, but he shakes him
off. He clasps Kirishima’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he tells him.

“Anytime man,” Kirishima says, with an easy grin.

Katsuki returns to his room, changes, and collapses into bed. He swipes open his phone.

Facetime connects with a little chime. Izuku is already dressed in one of Katsuki’s skull t-
shirts, and is laying down with his weighted plushie pressed to his chest. Katsuki watches
him brighten as their eyes meet and Izuku wiggles closer toward the screen. Izuku. God, even
the little snuffling sounds of his breathing give Katsuki such sweet relief.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, hushed.

“Hey,” Katsuki says, too softly. What the hell? Why does Katsuki feel close to tears right
now? He should have known that beer and a half would come to bite him in the ass. He clears
his throat. “How are you? Did you eat?”

“Shimizu-san ordered take out for us,” Izuku informs him brightly. “She was so excited to
hear about Blackwhip! I brought her the sketches Hatsume-san whipped up, and she—”

Katsuki lets him ramble. He’d never admit it, but he adores the way nerdy shit makes Izuku
light up. Even if he talks too damn fast to be understood half the time, the passion and energy
is just so attractive. If everyone cared about things the way Izuku did, maybe the world
wouldn’t be so shit.

“Sounds like a nerdfest,” Katsuki says, when Izuku finally has to stop for air. “How are you
though?”

Izuku blinks like the question startles him. He scratches the back of his neck and looks away.

“Oh,” Izuku laughs nervously. “Well. I’m…I’m alright now.”

 “Now?” Katsuki prods.

Izuku makes a sheepish noise. “Train ride sucked.”

God, Katsuki just wants to reach through the screen and grab him. He’s taken touching Izuku
for granted. His hands itch for the heat of Izuku’s body, the tiger-striping of his scar tissue
along his arms, the soft fuzz of his body hair. The urge to cradle him is so powerful Katsuki
feels almost nauseated that he can’t.

“Coulda called me,” Katsuki gruffs.

“Kacchan,” Izuku scolds with no heat. “It’s not polite to be on the phone in front of
everyone.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Katsuki mutters. Izuku huffs.

“Well I give many fucks,” Izuku counters, primly. “I give all of the fucks actually.”

Katsuki snorts. “Dork.”

Izuku grins, resting against the head of his bunny plushie and Katsuki feels a stab of
irritation. That should be him under the squish of Izuku’s cheek. Not that Katsuki is insane
enough to be jealous over a fucking toy. That would be ridiculous. Katsuki shakes off the
feeling before he can think too deeply about it.

Izuku’s gaze darkens. “I miss you so much.”

“I know,” Katsuki says, soft. “I miss you too.”

They whisper quietly until Izuku drifts off, but Katsuki doesn’t hang up. He keeps watching
Izuku through the too-small screen, drinking in the sounds of his gentle snoring. It’s annoying
that Katsuki even misses that too. Only when he’s certain that Izuku is truly asleep does he
shuffle over to retrieve the shirt he’d taken from Izuku, holding it to his face and breathing in.
Izuku. If Katsuki closes his eyes, only focusing on Izuku’s snoring and his scent then maybe,
just maybe, he can pretend that he’s still here.

Chapter End Notes

to all my friends who i swore on my life that this chapter would have kissing/smut
hahahahahah--runs

also if you saw this bump up from 5 chapters to 6 hahaha no you didn't, don't worry
about it, i have everything under control promise (sweats)
i did make myself cry writing this, i hope it had a good comfort to all that hurt ratio!!
also the true summary to this fic is "how many bakudeku get pseudo-engaged before
they figure out they're in love with each other" hopefully it’s not repetitive and is more
like!! the promises are escalating in intensity with their relationship!!

thank you so so so SO much for reading!! please PLEASE tell me what you think in the
comments, i read every single one multiple times and they really help me stay motivated
to keep going!! thank you so much !!

come say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr thanks !! <3

 happy
Chapter Notes

sorry about the wait!! thank you so so much @Fawn_Eyed_Girl for your help with this I
couldn't have done it without you ily so much <3 <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Four nights. Katsuki repeats it to himself like a mantra. He just has to make it through four
nights, and then it’ll be Friday, and Izuku will come home. That’s hardly any time at all,
really. It’s not even a big deal. Katsuki can survive that long without Izuku. He’s Bakugou
Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. He’s fought villains with gaping holes in his chest, finished All For
One with a broken arm, underwent heart surgery on an open battlefield, and still got back up
to keep fighting. He can handle four nights on his own. Sleeping by himself should be fuckin’
easy compared to the shit he’s been through.

It’s by far the most difficult thing Katsuki has ever had to do in his life.

It’s absolutely fucking miserable. Sleeping is impossible. He tosses and turns most of the
night, his thoughts spiraling, his body fidgety and anxious. His brain won’t stop throwing
terrible scenarios at him. What if Izuku doesn’t make it back on Friday? There could be a
training accident, a bad run in on patrol, an emergency mission that requires all hands on
deck for the weekend. Principal Nezu had promised Katsuki that their weekends were theirs
to do as they pleased, but what if they changed their mind? The longer he tosses and turns,
the worse the scenarios become. He has a list of all the active villains in Fukuoaka
memorized and fuck, some of them are really dangerous. What if the skin-stealer gets to
Izuku? Or that particularly nasty villain with the blood boiling quirk? What if that melting
quirk villain goes on another rampage, crosses paths with Izuku’s train and derails it, and
Izuku is killed before Katsuki can ever see him again? Oh god, it’s like an icy spear in his
heart; Katsuki can’t help but roll over and check the on-going facetime call, just to check to
make sure Izuku is still breathing. Even if Katsuki manages to get his mind to settle, there’s
still his body to contend with. He keeps catching himself reaching out, seeking an Izuku who
isn’t there and jolting himself awake in his panic. And it fucking kills him every time.

They leave facetime running as they drift to sleep every night, so Katsuki knows Izuku isn’t
faring much better. When Izuku does manage to drift off, it’s shallow and fidgety and plagued
with nightmares. Sometimes Katsuki will hear him begin to whimper and sniffle in his sleep
over the line and it fucking feels like Katsuki has just swallowed glass. Katsuki can’t just let
him suffer; he always rolls over and wakes him, which usually leads to Izuku apologizing and
crying, which also fucking sucks. Katsuki feels like a goddamn prisoner, forced to watch the
man he loves suffer through a tiny screen and unable to provide any real relief. Forced to
murmur to Izuku instead of cradling him, forced to watch Izuku hug himself and tremble
instead of being there for him like he fucking promised. Katsuki is gritting his teeth so much
he swears that his enamel has worn down a layer. It’s so goddamn infuriating how literally
everything would be better if Katsuki could just fucking be there.

The days aren’t great, either. It’s annoying how literally everything is worse without Izuku.
Beating Kirishima in a spar isn’t the same without Izuku cheering him on, cooking is lifeless
without Izuku chattering warmly at his side, and even mindless television is just irritating
background noise now. Even if it’s something Katsuki is usually excited to watch, it feels
pointless without Izuku’s dorky commentary and quips. Katsuki is so drained by the
harrowing nights that he doesn’t have the energy or patience to do more than the bare
minimum. Kirishima doesn’t seem to mind; he lets Katsuki just hang out in his room until
bedtime. Katsuki is usually too tired to do more than stare at his homework blankly and grunt
in response to whatever Kirishima wants to talk about, but Kirishima mercifully doesn’t point
it out.

Missing Izuku has its own weight. His loss has its own dark, foreboding presence. Katsuki
can always feel it, even when he should be distracted by the company of his friends or the
demands of his internship. It’s a constant itch under his skin, an ever-present ache in his
throat, a deep sense of wrongness weighing low in his gut. Katsuki tries to ignore it, but it’s
just so oppressive . It’s as exhausting as it is inescapable. It’s every waking moment. It’s like
his skin is two sizes too tight and he can’t settle comfortably or breathe easily.

By day three Katsuki actually feels ill. His head is muddy and aching, his stomach is so
twisted he can barely eat, and he’s gotten so little sleep that his hands are shaking. It’s like
he’s been stripped down to nothing but pure, raw nerves. Every little thing is setting him off:
Jeanist’s concerned looks (stop fucking staring at him he’s fine), the barrage of texts from his
mom (seriously, who does she think she’s helping, constantly texting him in all caps? Katsuki
keeps thinking it’s Izuku and getting his hopes up, only to have them dashed when it’s just his
mom being irritating as hell), Kirishima’s anxious chattering about his upcoming date with
Mina this weekend (just fucking pick the red tie and pay for everything, how could Kirishima
possibly mess this up when it’s this clear he and Pinky are made for each other?).

The worst is when he’s anticipating a call from Izuku. He sits with Kirishima as they take
their lunch break on a rooftop halfway through their shift out on patrol. Kirishima is
yammering, chomping on his ham sandwich and agonizing over what is “date-appropriate
food.” Katsuki is barely listening. Izuku texted that he would call any minute now and
Katsuki can’t stop fidgeting. He keeps bouncing his leg anxiously and thinking the jostling is
his phone vibrating and getting pissed when it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. Fuck,
he’s so exhausted that his vision is slightly blurred and his brain feels muted, like his body is
on low power mode. Katsuki checks Izuku’s location again; Izuku’s little blue dot pulses at
him, but gives him no answers. Katsuki growls in frustration; his bento is set to the side and
untouched.

“Do you think spaghetti is romantic enough, though?” Kirishima says. He scratches his chin
as he thinks. “It was pretty romantic in that dog movie, wasn’t it?”

Jesus fucking Christ. Katsuki has a hard enough time talking about romance on a good day,
but here? With three days of shit sleep and over a year of hopeless longing for the one person
he can never have? Kirishima is lucky that Katsuki doesn’t yank the sandwich out of his
hands and hurl it off the rooftop. Katsuki massages his aching temples and sighs.

“How would I fuckin’—” he begins, exasperated.

And then his phone vibrates. For real this time. Katsuki jolts. There’s a pulse of life and
energy. Izuku.

Katsuki’s excitement feels like it’s strangling him. He picks up before the first vibration has
ended. His heavy heart races, thud, thud, thudding against his ribs as the screen buffers.

And then Izuku appears before him, sitting on a bench outside a cafe and stuffing his face
with rice inelegantly. Gross. But he’s so fucking cute with his chipmunk cheeks that Katsuki
almost doesn’t mind. Izuku always holds the phone too close to his face at first, squinting at
the screen like he’s a fucking grandpa or something. Katsuki watches him brighten when the
call fully connects.

“Kacchan!” he cries, spitting rice as he does.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sicko,” Katsuki says. He jerks his head to the side.
“Kirishima’s here.”

Izuku hums apologetically, nodding and covering his mouth with a hand. His eyes are warm
as he smiles at him, but also rimmed with dark bruises. Katsuki feels heavy with misery
looking at him. It makes Katsuki sick to think he’s been sent out on patrol like that: his senses
dulled with exhaustion and without Danger Sense to alert him if anyone should try and get
the jump on him. Katsuki grips the phone until his fingers are white. One more night. They
just have to make it through one more night.

“Hi Midoriya!” Kirishima says, leaning over Katsuki’s shoulder and waving cheerily. “We
miss you!”

Katsuki bristles. We miss you. There is no ‘we’ here. There’s not even a comparison.
Kirishima doesn’t ‘miss’ Izuku, not like Katsuki does. He might be bummed that Izuku isn’t
around, but Katsuki is living with a dark black pit in his stomach. He’s haunted by Izuku’s
absence: his suffering is breaking down Katsuki’s routines, breaking down his body as he
continues to push himself despite the week of shit sleep and lack of appetite. As if Kirishima
knows the first fucking thing about missing Izuku. Ridiculous. There’s no fucking ‘we’ about
any of this.

Izuku smiles at Katsuki knowingly. Be nice, he doesn’t say, but Katsuki gets the message
anyway.

“I miss you guys too,” Izuku says. He gives Katsuki a significant look. “A lot.”

Affection blooms warm in Katsuki’s chest. Izuku has to have said that he misses him dozens
of times, but hearing it always strikes a tender chord within Katsuki. Izuku misses him. It
makes Katsuki want to plunge his hand through the too-small screen and bury himself in the
cradle of Izuku’s throat. God, Katsuki wants to feel the heat of his skin so badly that his
stomach aches.

“What time is your train leaving tomorrow?” Katsuki demands.

Izuku grins like he sees right through him. “Five.”

So he’ll be home around seven. Which means there is approximately thirty hours until
they’re together again. God, it’s still too fucking long, but Katsuki can do that. He has to. The
finish line is in sight. Katsuki takes in a steadying breath through his nose and nods.

“Pack your shit tonight,” he advises. “And text me once you’re on the train.”

Izuku’s smile is so fond that Katsuki feels like melting with it.

“Okay,” Izuku says. He almost sounds shy. “Can’t wait.”

Katsuki pulls the phone closer. It’s so much harder to deal with his cute aggression these
days. Usually when Izuku’s cuteness overwhelms him, Katsuki can just grab him, smother
Izuku into his chest and bury his face in his curls until the feeling subsides. Now all Katsuki
can do is look at him and— and ache . He swears Izuku just keeps getting cuter the more he
looks at him, too.

“Yeah, me neither,” Katsuki agrees.

Izuku’s smile turns playful. He arches a brow.

“Really?” he asks.

Katsuki frowns. “The fuck do you mean ‘really?’”

Izuku shrugs one shoulder. The light catches in his eyelashes as his gaze tilts down,
illuminating just the barest hint of green.

“Just making sure,” Izuku says, lightly. He suddenly seems extremely preoccupied with
scooping up the next bite of his bento.

Seriously? What the fuck have they been doing the last three days? Of fucking course
Katsuki misses him. Izuku isn’t this dense. Katsuki should be annoyed with his neediness, but
it’s just so painfully Izuku that Katsuki can’t help but love it.

“Look at me,” Katsuki orders and Izuku’s gaze flicks back up. “ I miss you .”

Izuku breaks into a nervous little laugh that’s just as sweet and adorable as Katsuki hoped it’d
be. Izuku clears his throat, setting down his chopsticks and leaning in toward the screen. He
rests his chin against the heel of his palm as he gives Katsuki his full attention.

“Yeah?” Izuku prods, sounding amused. “How much?”

Clingy bastard. Always has to test his luck, doesn’t he? Katsuki rolls his eyes, even though
he’s grinning.

“So much,” Katsuki adds. He tries to sound unaffected, but this whole being in love shit has
made him too soft to do it properly. He pops his brow challengingly. “Way more than you
miss me.”

That wins him a real laugh this time, a full shoulder-shaking one. Katsuki loves to hear it,
even through the strange, tinny filter of the phone.

“Is it a competition?” Izuku cries.

“Course it is,” Katsuki replies. “It’s us.”

Izuku giggles; his eyes are all glittering delight.

“I’ll beat you,” Izuku warns him.

“No shot.”

“Yes shot!”

Katsuki jabs a finger at the screen. “You’re full of shit.”

“Nuh uh!” Izuku says, so childishly that a laugh is ripped out of Katsuki against his will.
Katsuki draws the phone a little closer.

“Yeah huh,” Katsuki returns, quietly.

Izuku shakes his head, his nose crinkling. “Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah—”

Kirishima makes a strange, almost strangled sound and a bucket of ice water crashes over
Katsuki’s head. Fuck, right, they’re not alone. He straightens his spine and clears his throat.

“Yeah, well I’d crush you,” Katsuki finishes lamely.

Izuku sticks his tongue out at him. And then a voice comes from off-screen. Izuku’s head
jerks, looking over the phone.

“What?” Izuku asks, and Katsuki gets a nice view of the stretch of his neck as he leans
forward. “Oh— yeah. Yeah. I was just— I can finish up, yeah. Sorry.” Izuku glances back
down at Katsuki. “I gotta go.”

Katsuki’s heart sinks. Just as he was starting to feel better, too. He ignores the lump gathering
in his throat.
“Okay,” Katsuki says, and he sounds sullen even to his own ears. “Talk to you soon.”

“I’ll call you when I’m off,” Izuku promises. He brings his fingers to his lips and blows him a
kiss. “Bye.”

Katsuki’s stomach swoops. Cheesy ass motherfucker. If Kirishima wasn’t here, he’d consider
blowing him a kiss back, but instead he hangs up quickly and hopes Kirishima didn’t see (or
hear) that last bit.

There’s a beat of silence. Katsuki’s stomach twists with nerves. And then Kirishima snorts.
Katsuki elbows him sharply.

“Shut the fuck up!” he hisses.

Kirishima snickers as he shields himself poorly from Katsuki’s jabs.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kirishima says, though his grin tells Katsuki he’s anything but. “You guys
are just so cute.”

“I said shut up! ”

Kirishima laughs as they play-fight and Katsuki has to admit it makes him feel a little bit
better. They’re so close. Only one more sleep until Izuku’s home. Katsuki feels lighter than
he has all week.

Katsuki sleeps terribly, of course, but the adrenaline of seeing Izuku in only a few hours
keeps him hyper alert throughout the day. He’s jumpy, and fidgeting with everything, but
brilliantly alive and energized for the first time all week. Izuku is coming home today. Izuku.
God, a lump is gathering in Katsuki’s throat just thinking about it. Touching Izuku, holding
him, getting to sleep with Izuku in his arms. Fuck, he can’t wait, he can’t fucking wait. The
anticipation hums under his skin. Kirishima keeps shooting him worried glances.

“You sure you’re okay man?” Kirishima asks. It’s the fifth time he’s asked today. Katsuki
wishes he would just shut up so they can get patrol over with.

“Fine,” Katsuki insists. He checks the time. Five more hours until Izuku comes home. He just
has to live through one hour five times. He can do that. This shit is easy. He fiddles with the
strap on his gauntlet and swallows anxiously. Fuck, why is he anxious? Izuku is closer than
ever, shouldn’t he feel better? Katsuki feels like there’s wasps buzzing in his head, leaving all
his thoughts staticky and hard to grab onto. Kirishima frowns like he isn’t convinced.

“If you say so,” Kirishima says, warily.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. None of this fucking matters. Katsuki just has to get through it.
Just get through it, just get through it. Fuck, Katsuki swears the time is going by slower than
ever now that he’s just so close . His thoughts are on a loop: calculating about how much
time is left, cursing himself for thinking about the time when that won’t make it go by any
faster, forcing himself to think about anything else, only to inevitably have his train of
thought dragged back to Izuku and his impending arrival. God, Katsuki can hardly focus.
What’s he supposed to be on the lookout for again? Something about a water-quirk gang?
Katsuki hadn’t been able to pay attention to the lecture this morning. Fuck, maybe that should
worry him, but he’s too exhausted and rattled and anxious to care. Only one thing matters.
Four hours until Izuku is home. Three hours. Two. Katsuki’s patrol shift wraps up and he all
but sprints back to Jeanist’s office to shower.

Ping! Katsuki nearly drops his phone in his scramble to answer it, letting his towel slide off
his shoulders in his fumble to swipe it open. His heart leaps when he finally reads the words
he’s been waiting for. “ On the train! ” Izuku writes with about thirty smiley heart emojis
attached. Adrenaline spikes through Katsuki’s veins. Home, he’s coming home. Izuku .
Katsuki presses the phone to his forehead and thanks any gods that might be listening. It’s
real, it’s happening, Izuku is coming home.

One hour. Katsuki paces around the common room. It’s a lot emptier than usual; almost
everyone is out at internships in different cities, which had been nice until Kaminari barges
in, apparently expecting a grand welcome for returning for the weekend. Katsuki barely
spares him a glance before checking the time once again and resuming his pacing. Kirishima
greets Kaminari much more warmly. And then they both turn to Katsuki with twin
expressions of deep concern.

“Has he been like this all week?” Kaminari whispers, not quietly enough for Katsuki to not
fucking hear him. Katsuki shoots daggers at him; Kirishima pats Kaminari’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine soon,” Kirishima assures him. “Let’s just give him some space.”

Another ping. Izuku is twenty minutes away. God, it’s like there’s a javelin lodged in
Katsuki’s chest. Finally. Katsuki races up the stairs three at a time, snatching up his baseball
cap, sunglasses, and keys at record speed. He’s so keyed up he shoves his feet in the wrong
shoes at first and has to double back for his wallet. He sprints out the door, shoving past first
years who gawk at him and flipping off Present Mic when he shouts about not running on
school property. Stupid mustached bastard is lucky Katsuki isn’t blasting his way to the train
station.

Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. Katsuki can feel his nearness with every beat of his pounding heart. He’s
so close that Katsuki can taste it. Katsuki arrives at the train station ten minutes early, panting
and sweating and jittering with nerves. Ten minutes. Ten minutes and Izuku will be here.
Here! Home and with Katsuki, where he belongs. Katsuki’s throat is tight. He feels close to
throwing up. He resumes his pacing, drawing dirty looks from the surrounding crowd of
passengers, but he couldn’t care less. Fuck the extras, fuck everyone, they don’t know how
badly Katsuki needs this. He’s riddled with exhaustion and longing and dreadful anticipation.
His body is thrumming, his skin prickling. Izuku. God, just please, please—
Katsuki hears the train whistle. Fuck! Katsuki’s heart is lodged in his throat and he’s honest-
to-god trembling. The train pulls in. Chugs to a stop. The doors hiss as they slide open.
Katsuki tugs on the collar of his shirt. Here, here, here he’s fucking here this is it. Katsuki
sees the shadows of people moving through the windows. There’s too many fucking people
in the way. It’s so much busier now than it was when Katsuki had dropped him off. There’s
too much movement, too many bodies. Katsuki stands on his toes, scans the crowd—

Everything stops.

Katsuki doesn’t breathe. His heart stills in his chest.

Izuku.

Everything else falls away. Katsuki doesn’t hear the noise of the bustling crowd, doesn’t
sense the motion of bodies swarming around him, everything in the background becomes one
jumbled blur. There’s only Izuku: his stocky frame, his wayward curls only half-contained by
his baseball cap, his suitcase clutched in his hand. He looks fucking exhausted, the bruises
under his eyes are even worse in person and his shoulders have a weary-slouch to them. He
hasn’t spotted Katsuki yet, too busy fiddling with his suitcase trying to get the handle to
detract.

Katsuki doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t even consider calling out to him, he just
moves. He surges forward, shoving past strangers, ignoring their disgruntled sounds of
protest, and stomping over wayward luggage as he makes a beeline for Izuku, Izuku, Izuku.
Passengers scramble to get out of his way and Katsuki breaks into a run.

Izuku turns to look at Katsuki at the last second. Katsuki watches the realization wash over
him, the light returning to his eyes, color washing over his face. Izuku practically swells with
excitement and he lets his bag hit the pavement as he breaks into a run, already sobbing. One
heartbeat away, their arms are outstretched—

Katsuki feels the first brush of his hand like an electric shock. And then the solid weight of
Izuku is crashing into him. And oh my fucking god does it feel good. Izuku’s strong arms lock
around him, the familiar scent and warmth of Izuku envelops him, and Katsuki is swept up in
a wash of love and peace and fucking relief. God, it feels so good to hold him. To feel him
breathe, to be warmed by his body and his affection. He can feel Izuku’s sobs, too, but he
knows they’re good tears. Katsuki goes boneless with it. He’s half-tempted to collapse with
Izuku in his arms right here and now. Izuku.

Four days of heavy misery evaporates in an instant and Katsuki trembles. The relief is so
potent, so visceral and complete. Only clinging to Izuku keeps him upright. He nuzzles into
the crook of Izuku’s throat and sobs, knocking off his stupid hat in the process. For a
moment, Katsuki can’t remember any of it— all of the anxiety, longing, and dread— the
euphoria of their reunion eclipses everything and there is only this. Perfect, glorious elation.
The completion he only feels with Izuku. Security and peace.

Okay, maybe their teachers have a point about this whole codependency thing.
Katsuki will have to worry about it later. Right now there’s only Izuku. He sniffles quietly
against Katsuki’s throat, his fingernails biting through Katsuki’s shirt and into the meat of his
shoulders. God, how Katsuki loves the hush of his breath against his skin. There’s so many
little sensations Katsuki had forgotten to memorize. The even rhythm of his breathing, the
texture of his curls against his cheek, the warmth of his body. Katsuki turns his face to press
kisses to his temple.

“Hey,” Katsuki rasps.

Izuku shakes them both with his quiet laughter. He draws back, turning his face up to look at
him, and what the hell? How the fuck did he manage to get more gorgeous in their time
apart? His shimmery sea-green eyes have never been more hypnotizing, his sweet freckled
cheeks have never looked more biteable, his radiant smile feels like basking in the sun after
days of miserable storming. He looks exhausted and fucking perfect. Katsuki swears he falls
in love all over again.

Katsuki moves to embrace him once more, but Izuku doesn’t let him. He cups Katsuki’s jaw
in one hand, tilting his head down until their foreheads are pressed together, pushing up the
lip of his baseball cap as he does.

“Tadaima,” Izuku says, soft.

Katsuki’s eyes burn with unshed tears. He sniffles. His laugh is half a scoff. He reaches up
and tucks a curl behind Izuku’s ear, just to give himself something to do.

“We ain’t home yet, Zu,” he says, lowly.

Izuku hums. He shakes his head once and their noses brush past one another.

“No,” he says. “I’m home right now.”

Katsuki can’t help it. He surges in to kiss the apple of Izuku’s cheek and, fuck, it’s everything
Katsuki dreamed it’d be. Soft and plush and warm with his soft blush. Katsuki lingers a beat
too long as he savors it.

“Okaeri,” Katsuki whispers back.

Izuku beams, preening under the attention and eyes sparkling with joy. He tucks himself
under Katsuki’s arm as they head back to the dorms. Katsuki can’t believe just how much
better he feels now that they’re together. He’s still drained, sure, but he feels human again.
Tired, but alive. It feels like years of tension have just melted off him. Izuku . Katsuki can’t
stop glancing down to check he’s still there, and then tugging him close and squeezing him,
just because he can. Izuku giggles like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

They drop off his suitcase in their room before heading down to the kitchen. Now that Izuku
is home, Katsuki’s appetite has come back with a vicious fury. He decides on omelets
because god knows he doesn’t have the energy for anything too complicated. He’s in such a
good mood he doesn’t even give Izuku shit for planting his ass on the countertop instead of
on a chair like a normal person. Izuku kicks his feet happily.
“I wish you coulda seen it,” Izuku says, hands clenched into excited fists as he rambles. “It’s
like a gel-like substance? Obviously it won’t be as good as Blackwhip, but she said I should
be able to have ten separate tendrils active at a time!”

“That’s amazing,” Katsuki says, honestly. He’ll never admit it, but he’s sort of missed playing
Catch-a-Kacchan. There’s something exhilarating about Izuku pursuing him that Katsuki
can’t get enough of. He whips up a small dish of an avocado-cream sauce to go with their
omelets and offers a spoonful for Izuku to taste. Izuku lets Katsuki feed it to him and throws
his head back, practically moaning.

“God, I’ve missed your cooking,” Izuku says, wistfully.

Fuck. Katsuki forces himself to ignore the way Izuku’s voice makes his cock throb. He
swallows thickly and looks away. Fucking focus.

“Not too spicy?” Katsuki asks. Izuku shakes his head.

“It’s perfect,” Izuku says. He seizes the front of Katsuki’s shirt and drops a sticky kiss onto
his brow. “Thank you.”

God. The small affection hits Katsuki right in his spent and tender heart. Izuku is really here,
he’s home. Katsuki lets the spoon clatter to the floor as he throws both arms around Izuku,
crushing their bodies together and nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“Whoa!” Izuku says, laughing even as he embraces him. He presses his cheek into Katsuki’s
hair. “You okay?”

Katsuki sighs, long and satiated.

“Yeah,” he admits, hoarsely. “I am.”

Izuku rewards his outburst with several more kisses pressed to his crown and Katsuki blooms
with it. Warmth and love permeate his entire body, wash through his limbs, tingle down his
fingertips and toes. He can’t believe just how much better he feels now that Izuku is back in
his arms. It’s like the miracle cure-all: Katsuki’s anxiety has evaporated, his headache is
gone, the constant wringing in his gut has disappeared. Maybe it should worry him that so
many of his ailments have suddenly vanished now that Izuku is around, but Katsuki can
hardly bring himself to care. Not when it feels this good.

As soon as they’re finished eating they decide to get ready for bed. Neither of them have
slept much this week and frankly, all Katsuki wants to do is curl up in bed and cuddle. Fuck,
maybe it’s embarrassing, but Katsuki is so starved for Izuku-cuddles that it feels more like a
need than a desire. They shower, brush their teeth, and collapse into bed. Izuku wiggles his
way into Katsuki’s arms, slotting a thigh between Katsuki’s legs and tangling their fingers.

“It’s so good to be home,” Izuku says. He lays his head on Katsuki’s chest and sighs
contentedly.
Katsuki hums in agreement. Home is the cradle of Izuku’s arms, the warmth of his embrace,
the tenor of his voice rumbling through him. Only Izuku can bring him true rest and restore
him to perfect peace. Katsuki turns his head and places a kiss on the top of his head.

“Get some sleep, nerd,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku’s breathing is already deep and even. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, but
Katsuki knows he’s already drifting. Good. Katsuki holds him close and at last sleep takes
him easily.

They sleep almost sixteen hours. Katsuki wakes up with a crick in his neck (and morning
wood, but thankfully he wakes up in time to tuck into the waistband of his boxers before
Izuku can notice). Izuku’s face is marred with red indents and striped with drool. Katsuki
teases him mercilessly and Izuku tackles him, jabbing Katsuki with tickling fingers until
Katsuki kicks him off the bed.

It’s a perfect weekend. They’re both too lethargic to train as hard as they usually do, but it’s
fine. They’ll have plenty of time to train when they aren’t recovering from a horrendous
week apart. They spend every single second together: watching movies, playing video games,
anything they can do while cuddling, really. Which almost always devolves into napping in
each other's arms, whether hiding away in their room or curled up on the couch together. It’s
like their bodies know they need to rest while they can. Izuku still gets huffy about it, though.

“I don’t want to sleep away all our time together,” he whines. But then his whine becomes a
yawn and Katsuki snorts.

“It’s okay,” he promises. He cards a hand through Izuku’s hair and Izuku hums in content.
“We’re still together.”

Izuku huffs. He’s so fucking adorable when he’s pouty and sleepy it should be a crime.
Katsuki can’t be held responsible for all the sickeningly sweet things he wants to do to him.
Right now it’s contemplating nibbling his earlobe. Izuku is ticklish; he'd probably giggle. But
that would be a step too far, wouldn’t it? Katsuki settles for flicking his ear instead.

“You know what I mean,” Izuku says, shouldering away Katsuki’s hand.

And Katsuki does. It’s why he forces himself to stay awake as long as possible, long after
Izuku has fallen asleep. Katsuki strokes his hair, soaks in the heat of Izuku’s body draped
over his, drinks in the sight of Izuku relaxed and at peace. It’s everything to Katsuki. He
always drifts off eventually though. After a week of fighting for even a scrap of true rest, the
easy, dreamless sleep he shares with Izuku is sweet relief.
Katsuki can’t help but notice it isn’t just sleep that Izuku is catching up on though. He has
seconds of everything Katsuki makes for him, plus snacks and dessert, too. It’s like he’s
starved himself all week. Katsuki narrows his eyes at Izuku as he practically inhales his
katsudon; he knows Izuku at least ate his lunches while they were apart, but was that all he
was eating? The thought sends a pang of fear through Katsuki. He knows Izuku is shit at
taking care of himself and there’s no one Katsuki can trust in Fukuoka to look after him and
make sure he eats.

It’s why during their Sunday afternoon nap, he allows Izuku to drift off before slinking out of
his embrace. Maybe Izuku will have more incentive to eat if Katsuki goes to the trouble of
meal-prepping for him. The guilt of shirking Katsuki’s hard work might just override his self-
destructive tendencies long enough to get some more calories in him.

Katsuki doesn’t make anything fancy or complicated: just a couple of containers of stir-fry,
some pork onigiri, and a batch of his special brownie recipe for dessert. He’s really perfected
it over the last year and a half. Even Izuku agrees that Katsuki’s recipe has far surpassed the
ones they used to split at the hospital. It’s one of Katsuki’s finer accomplishments. Okay
maybe he’ll make two batches, just because he knows Izuku is a greedy little fuck and will
want to eat some now. Katsuki has just finished taking the second tray out of the oven when
he hears a heavy thud and frantic footsteps from upstairs.

His heart rate spikes. Izuku. What had happened? Was there a break in? Is he alright? Katsuki
fumbles to switch off the oven, scrambling to rush up and check on him— only to find Izuku
already in the stairwell heading right for him, OFA wreathed around his limbs and a panic on
his tear-stained face. Izuku sobs when he sets eyes on him and rushes into his arms. Katsuki
embraces him, his mind reeling—

“I woke up and you were gone!” he cries into Katsuki’s shoulder. “The bed was cold and you
left your phone— I thought— I thought—”

“Shhhh,” Katsuki says, cradling the back of his head. He lets Izuku collapse into him, fully
supporting his weight as he rocks him back and forth. “Hey, I’m right here.”

Izuku shakes with his sobs and clings to him. Katsuki is relieved, but at the same time he
feels a new sort of dread creeping in. He can’t deny it now; they definitely have a
codependency thing. And if anything, their mandated separation is making it worse. Katsuki
grimaces. What is he going to do? Katsuki hides his face in Izuku’s throat. He has to fix this
and yet it feels… wrong somehow. He doesn’t want to push Izuku away. He doesn’t want to
be less codependent. As long as Izuku needs Katsuki, then he can’t ever leave him. Needing
Katsuki means Katsuki has him and— and—

Katsuki’s stomach plummets. And then Izuku is trapped. Bound to Katsuki against his will,
stuck with him because of a trauma-bond, not because he actually wants to be with him.
There’s a solid lump forming his throat and tears well up in his eyes. He curses himself. How
can he have even entertained such dark, possessive thoughts? He’d sworn to do right by
Izuku. He swore to never stand in his way. That includes shit like this.

Katsuki holds Izuku just a bit tighter, soaking in having him for just this moment longer. He
will let go. He has to let go. For Izuku’s own good he has to— has to—
“Maybe we should talk to our therapists about this,” Katsuki forces himself to say, once
Izuku’s sniffling has subsided.

Izuku makes a disgruntled noise. Cute. God, Katsuki loves him so fucking much. How is he
ever supposed to let him go? Katsuki squeezes him even tighter.

“I don’t like this shit, either,” Katsuki tells him honestly.

Izuku sighs through his nose. He buries his face in the crook of Katsuki’s shoulder.

“I just don’t want things to change between us,” Izuku admits quietly.

Katsuki hums sympathetically. “Me neither.”

Izuku sniffs. He reels back and levels Katsuki with a stern look.

“Then why bring it up?” he demands. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “If you
don’t wanna change… and I don’t wanna change…”

“Zu,” Katsuki says, patiently. “What was this week like for you, really? How bad was it?”

Izuku huffs. He looks away stubbornly.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he mutters

Katsuki pokes him in the ribs lightly. Izuku makes an irritated noise that Katsuki knows is
covering up a laugh. Ticklish bastard.

“I just wanna know that you’re gonna be okay if I’m not around,” Katsuki says. He lets his
hand drag up Izuku’s body, over the broad swell of Izuku’s shoulders, up the column of his
throat. He scritches the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Izuku scowls. He’s still so cute, even when he’s trying to be fierce. His fingers tighten on the
hem of Katski’s shirt.

“But you will be around,” he presses. It’s probably disrespectful to be thinking about kissing
Izuku even when he’s mad at him. “You promised.”

“It’s still you and me, Zu,” Katsuki whispers. He combs his fingers through Izuku’s hair.
“That ain’t gonna change. But maybe— maybe there’s better ways for us to… cope, I
guess.”

Izuku isn’t swayed. If anything, his scowl deepens.

“You said the rest of our lives,” Izuku reminds him, something dark in his tone. “Why do we
need to learn to cope?”

Katsuki is somehow amused despite everything. He frames Izuku’s face in his hands.
“I’m gonna keep all my promises to you,” Katsuki assures him gently. “But what about the
next eleven weeks? Can we really keep going like this?”

Izuku’s silence is answer enough, but he still looks displeased. Katsuki loves him too much to
let that stand for long.

“‘Sides,” Katsuki continues. “How am I supposed to surprise you if I can’t leave you alone
for an hour?”

Izuku blinks. Katsuki can see intrigue flicker in his gaze. Izuku twists his lips, narrowing his
eyes suspiciously.

“A surprise?” he asks, slowly.

“Mmmhmm,” Katsuki says. He strokes the soft curve of Izuku's cheek with the back of his
knuckle. So warm, and freckled, and sleep-flushed. He’s suddenly very glad he decided to go
all out with brownies and everything. Katsuki can see Izuku fighting to stay firm.

“What… what kind of surprise?” Izuku asks, too lightly.

Katsuki breaks into a wicked grin. Gotcha, he thinks. He gestures to the kitchen with a jerk of
his head. Izuku slides their fingers together before hurrying down the stairs. And predictably
bursts into tears when he sees what Katsuki has done.

“You really—” Izuku weeps, burying his face in his hands. “You shouldn’t— you seriously—
Kacchan.”

Katsuki flushes, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking away in embarrassment.

“It’s whatever,” he says, dismissively. “Can’t have you fuckin’ starving yourse—”

Izuku seizes his face in his hands, silencing him with several smacking kisses—on Katsuki’s
cheeks, his chin, his jawline, his ear—Oh. Something is bubbling up inside Katsuki,
something bright and free and happy— and then Katsuki realizes he’s laughing. He winds his
arms around Izuku’s waist and holds him close as he continues to smother him in affection.

“Zu,” Katsuki says, when the onslaught shows no signs of stopping. One kiss lands
dangerously close to the corner of Katsuki’s mouth and an electric chill washes over him.

“I like surprises,” Izuku announces breathlessly.

He leaves Katsuki one last kiss on the tip of his nose and Katsuki snorts. God, Katsuki is so
stupidly, ridiculously happy. He thinks he might be floating. He only exists where the feeling
of Izuku’s lips lingers on his skin. Tingling traces of his affection lighting him up from
within. He rests his forehead against Izuku’s.

“You gotta help me with these dishes,” Katsuki warns him. Izuku giggles.

“Alright, I guess,” Izuku sighs with faux-exasperation. Katsuki jabs him in the ribs for his
insolence and Izuku shrieks, trying to wriggle out of his grip as the laughter is forced out of
him. Katsuki grins savagely; he doesn’t stop tickling him until he spots Kaminari and
Kirishima out of the corner of his eye. Katsuki jolts and takes two steps back, but it’s way too
late. Kaminari’s eyebrows are buried in his hairline, his hands on his hips and looking like the
very picture of smug victory; Kirishima just looks fond.

“Oh, don’t stop on our account!” Kaminari says, holding his hands up in surrender. His grin
is downright wicked. “Please, keep going!”

“Fuck off, Dunce Face,” Katsuki bites. Izuku smooths out his shirt and clears his throat.

“Ah, Kacchan made brownies!” he says, airily. “Let me— I’ll cut some up and we can watch
something! I’ll just—”

He’s blushing as he excuses himself to the far end of the kitchen. Katsuki turns to follow
after, but Kirishima’s voice makes him freeze.

“See?” he says, elbowing Kaminari in the ribs. “Told ya he’d be alright soon.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Goddammit, how long were those eavesdroppers hanging around? It’s
going to be really hard to explain the whole— the y’know— fuck, the kissing thing.

Kaminari waggles his eyebrows. “When you’re right, you’re right, Kiri!”

Kirishima snickers and Katsuki growls. Little sparks go off in his hands threateningly. Izuku
tuts from across the kitchen counter.

“Oh, Kacchan, please don’t set off the sprinklers, you’ll ruin all your hard work!” he cries.

Katsuki sighs, but obeys. Kaminari and Kirishima exchange a loaded glance. Kirishima
chokes; Kaminari snorts.

“ Shut the fuck up ,” Katsuki hisses.

“We didn’t say anything,” Kaminari presses. He tries and fails to smother his giggling with a
hand. Kirishima slaps him on the back, eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“Our lips are sealed, Bakugou!” Kirishima wheezes, miming locking his lips. Which only
makes them laugh harder, doubling over on themselves like idiots. Katsuki makes a note to
not hold back next time they’re matched up for sparring practice.

Monday morning comes all too quickly and Izuku is once again swept away. Parting is such
sweet sorrow, they say, but Katsuki thinks it's all a load of horseshit. The only thing sweet
about any of this is the kiss Izuku leaves him with before he goes. And then it’s all emptiness.
And heartache. And dread.
This week, however, Katsuki has a plan. He doesn’t like it, but he and Izuku agreed they
would try. Katsuki had texted Aizawa to ask for copies of their files to be emailed over to
their therapists so they could… look into some solutions. Not because they wanted to;
Katsuki had to assure Izuku at least three times that he wasn’t going to do anything Izuku
wasn’t comfortable with. But they would see what their advice is. Even if they’re both
reluctant to do anything that would require spending more time apart.

Katsuki had started therapy with Tanaka after the Sludge Villain incident. He hadn’t planned
on sticking with it any longer than the hours mandated by his doctor for his ‘trauma’, but…
well. As much as Katsuki hates to admit it, he’s really come to appreciate having someone to
talk to. He’d expected his therapist to be the simpering, coddling type. Someone who was just
so ‘sympathetic’ and overly eager for Katsuki to ‘open up’ and cry all over her because of his
‘trauma.’ But Tanaka was a surprisingly stern woman, with a dry sense of humor and a no-
nonsense attitude Katsuki is forced to appreciate. It took him over two years to really open
up, but she never gave any sign that it bothered her. And he’d especially come to rely on her
as the more traumatic things started to pile on.

It wasn’t until after Izuku and Katsuki’s fight at Ground Beta that he was able to confess
more personal things: namely, his inferiority complex, his fears, his guilt over how he treated
Izuku. She had applauded him for his attempts to atone and helped brainstorm ways to show
his sincerity, always reminding him to stay focused on the present when guilt over the past
threatened to swallow him up. When Katsuki had decided it was time to apologize properly,
he’d written it out and read it to Tanaka first. Just to make sure it sounded just right and that
he got all the important points across. Katsuki trusts Tanaka, respects her even. He values her
opinion.

Maybe that’s why he was so nervous about what she will think of their file.

Especially because he hasn’t exactly… told Tanaka everything that’s been happening
between him and Izuku. She knows they’re close, of course, and she has to hear about him
worrying over Izuku almost every session, but he hasn’t disclosed the more intimate details
of their relationship. Mostly because he doesn’t know how to put it into words. How is he
supposed to explain the bed-sharing, or the promises between them, or the whole kissing
thing?

Maybe he doesn’t want to tell her because she of all people should know he doesn’t deserve
this tender intimacy with Izuku. It still makes Katsuki cringe to think about how he’d sobbed
like a baby as he confessed his sins to her. He’d been grateful that she hadn’t been coddling,
or made excuses for his behavior. She’d only acknowledged the severity of the things he’d
done and then helped him brainstorm on how best to apologize and atone. How was he
supposed to come to her now and confess that he was in love with the boy he’d tormented
most of their lives? She knows better than anyone he doesn’t stand a chance. She’d even
warned him not to expect forgiveness from Izuku when he had planned to apologize.

“Forgiveness should not be the goal of your apology,” she had said, in that firm,
authoritative way of hers. “Your apology should be about him, not you.”

He’s come to rely on Tanaka’s advice so much. She is his sounding board, his voice of
reason, and is exceptionally good at her job. Mostly because of her empathetic quirk. Her
empathy has allowed her to sense the underlying truth of his emotions, even when he’s been
too immature to do more than deflect angrily and stonewall. He hadn’t even been able to
identify that the sick, permanent nausea that he’d felt after the Kamino incident was guilt
until Tanaka’s empathy had allowed her to identify the emotion simmering underneath all his
frustration and anger. And even then he hadn’t been able to open up about it until after he’d
fought with Izuku at Ground Beta. Katsuki sighs thinking about what a stupid, reckless kid
he’d been.

So yeah. He’s nervous. He has no idea what Tanaka will make of any of this, and he’s sort of
worried she’ll be disappointed that he’s kept this to himself for so long. And what’s worse is
that he can’t even hide the fact that he’s nervous, because as soon as he walks in the door
she’ll be able to sense it with her quirk. Goddammit. Katsuki sighs as he stares at the door to
her office. He’ll just have to… get through this somehow. He knocks.

“Come in,” she says.

He steps inside. Her office is cozy and quaint with a long squashy couch where Katsuki likes
to recline and that has plenty of blankets and pillows heaped upon it. It is always just a bit
humid and perfumed with the scent of jasmine tea. Tanaka looks the same as ever, with her
steel-gray bob cut, in a pin-striped pants suit, sitting cross-legged in her squishy armchair
with a clipboard perched on a knobby knee. She tenses as he enters, frowning as his
emotional state washes over her. She rubs her chest as she gives him a once-over.

“Someone’s had a bad week,” she comments dryly.

Katsuki snorts. He stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“Somethin’ like that,” he says evasively.

He collapses onto the couch, slouching over and fiddling with the All Might card in his
pocket nervously. He knows she’s evaluating him and he can’t stand it. He forces himself to
lean back and stares up at the ceiling.

Just get through it, he tells himself. For Izuku, all of this is for his sake. He sighs heavily and
closes his eyes.

“Izuku is gone again, I take it?” she prods lightly.

“Eleven more weeks,” he replies. God, it stings to think about it. Their perfect little weekend
together was like a balm on his irritated nerves, but it’s only Tuesday and he’s already itching
for his presence again. She must feel that too because she rubs her chest again like she has
heartburn.

“I’m sensing a great deal of anxiety,” Tanaka says, voice perfectly neutral.

She’s really good at that. Staying neutral and unemotional. She’d mentioned something about
it being a strategy as to not allow her emotional state to affect her clients and consequently
contaminating her data. Even when he’d told her the despicable things he’d done, she’d taken
it all with nothing more than grim acceptance. No reaction, no judgment. Right now Katsuki
doesn’t know if the non-reaction makes things better or worse. He swallows thickly.

“You… you got the file?” he asks, gruffly.

Tanaka hums. He hears her pen click open and she begins to write.

“I did,” she answers. “It was… interesting.”

Katsuki huffs irritably. He snatches up a pillow and hugs it to his chest protectively.

“‘Interesting’,” he repeats.

“Very,” Tanaka says. Fuck, the woman is totally unreadable. Katsuki sits up to skewer her
with a glare.

“Listen, it ain’t fuckin’ fair that you get to root around in my head, but I never have any idea
what you’re thinkin’,” he says, blunt and harsh. “Just give it to me straight. What do I do?”

Tanaka’s thin lips pull into a frown. Not a displeased one, but a thinking one.

“You should know better than that, Katsuki,” she chides, gently. She makes another little note
on her clipboard. “I don’t tell you what to do, you tell me what you want to do and I help you
get there.”

Katsuki sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t— don’t you have any kind of diagnosis or something?” he demands, exasperated.
“You’re the fuckin’ shrink here.”

Tanka lets out a small huff of amusement.

“A diagnosis?” she repeats.

Katsuki lets out a growl of frustration. “What? Did you not read the file?”

Tanaka shrugs one shoulder, twirling the pen in her hand idly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the file too much,” she says blithely.

A beat of perfect silence. Only the soft whirl of the overhead fan tick-tick-ticks so that
Katsuki knows time hasn’t stopped.

“What?” he says, after a moment.

Tanaka’s mouth twists in amusement.

“I’ve shocked you,” she comments. Another scribbling note on her damnable clipboard. “Did
you really think I’d judge you so harshly?”
Katsuki can only stare at her. What the hell? He knows Tanaka isn’t exactly the most
expressive woman in the world, but this is different. It’s almost like— his mouth opens and
closes, but no sounds come out. He squints at her skeptically.

“What did it say?” he asks, warily.

Tanaka shrugs and sighs.

“Nothing I wouldn’t expect, if I’m honest,” Tanaka says, she settles into her armchair as she
flips over a page on her clipboard, probably checking the notes she’d taken while reading it.
“‘Excessive comfort-seeking, abnormal attentiveness, clinginess.’ Typical teenager behavior
if you ask me. Maybe made a little more extreme given the circumstances. Frankly, I’d be
more shocked if you weren’t a bit clingy after everything you’ve been through.”

Katsuki feels… surprisingly relieved. The hope creeps in slowly.

“Really?”

“Of course,” Tanaka says, soothingly. “It’s nothing you won’t grow out of overtime. We will
work through your trauma and it should go away on its own.”

Katsuki can’t fucking believe what he’s hearing right now.

“But… they said we were codependent,” Katsuki protests.

He’d thought they were codependent even. Should he tell her just how awful his days without
Izuku are? The dread, the anxiety? Izuku’s panic attack in the stairwell after Katsuki had only
left him for an hour? His heart races, but suddenly he doesn’t want to. Maybe it really will all
work itself out. It’s only because of their hero work that any of this is a problem anyway.
Maybe he can keep Izuku to himself and nothing needs to change after all.

Tanaka sighs then, sharp lines gathering on her brow as she frowns.

“Your teachers had no right to make any sort of diagnosis,” she says, irritably. “They should
have had you two evaluated by an actual psychiatrist before jumping to such conclusions.
Had they consulted any medical professionals they would have known that a sudden, forced
separation is the last thing that would resolve any real codependency.”

Never in a million years did Katsuki think Tanaka would actually be on his side about this.
He hadn’t even considered it as an option. He gapes at her for a moment before regaining his
composure.

“Right? It’s bullshit,” Katsuki says. “They didn’t even give us a warning or anything! They
just— dropped this on us and now Izuku has to spend the entire summer by himself in
Fukuoka.”

Tanaka hums sympathetically.

“I am sorry to hear that,” she says, sounding truly aggrieved. “It’s not fair that you won’t get
to enjoy the summer with your boyfriend.” She tsks. “Had they consulted me I would have
suggested—”

But Katsuki doesn’t hear anything else. It’s like she’s struck him over the head with a
battering ram. His ears are ringing; his stomach drops. Tire tracks screech to a halt in his
mind. It’s like his soul has just been ejected from his still-living body, and he’s watching
himself gape at her in disbelief.

“What,” Katsuki says, too raspy and clipped to be a question. “What are you— what—”

She stops her prattling to frown at him, tilting her head to the side.

“I’m sensing distress,” she says, uncertainly.

Something inside Katsuki snaps.

“Yeah no fucking shit!” he shouts. He slams back into his body and his rage comes with him.
Hot and coursing through him— he suddenly can’t bear to be still and so he leaps to his feet.
He steps around the head of the couch and starts to pace around the room, tugging on his hair
as his mind reels. “You don’t— What did you—are you—”

He must have misheard. The separation from Izuku has finally made him snap and he's
started hearing things, surely. She can’t really have— Katsuki takes a steadying breath.

“What did you just say to me?” he demands, grabbing hold of the head of the couch and
squeezing it until the fabric protests.

“Katsuki,” she says, sounding genuinely concerned. “I was only saying I would have
suggested couples counseling with a colleague of mine and—”

“ Couples counseling?! ”

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. He knew it. She’s a fucking hack. She hadn’t actually been
listening to him all these years. It had all been some elaborate trick. She never cared about
him. And here he’d been thinking he could fucking trust her. Either that or she’s finally gone
senile and forgotten literally everything Katsuki has ever told her. He resumes pacing the
room, tearing at his hair angrily. He should have fucking known—

“Breathe through it, Katsuki,” Tanaka says, loud and firm. “Breathe with me.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Katsuki growls at her.

“Come now,” Tanaka says, tersely. She’s sitting up in her chair now, leaning over her elbows
and setting her clipboard to the side. She eyes him warily like he’s frightening her and that
hurts. Just because she is a shit therapist doesn’t mean he would fucking lay a hand on her.
He gnashes his teeth.

“Breathe,” Katsuki spits. “I know how to fucking breathe you stupid, old hack.”
Tanaka gives him an unimpressed look.

“Katsuki, you know better than that,” she chides. “Breathe with me so you can tell me what
I’ve done to upset you so much, hm? Come on.”

She holds a hand over her chest, sucking in air through her mouth and patting out the
rhythm.

“Four counts in,” she begins.

Katsuki resists for a beat. He doesn’t want to fucking breathe he wants to fucking get out of
here. He wants to make his escape and slam the door in her face for her stupid, ridiculous,
presumptuous—Why would she even say that? God, what hurts the most is the tiny fragment
of hope she’s just dropped into his lap. Boyfriend. Why had she… why had she said Izuku
was his… ? No, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. Katsuki knows better than this.
He snatches up a pillow, turns away from her, and screams into it.

“And out four counts,” she continues, just as calmly as ever. “Come on, Katsuki. Just breathe
with me.”

Katsuki has to have done this particular breathing exercise a million times— whether with
Tanaka, or Izuku, or just to himself. It must have somehow become instinctual, because when
she keeps counting he finds himself breathing along. It takes a while. Probably longer than it
should, but as usual it does do the trick. His rage is still simmering, but manageable. He still
has half a mind to storm out, but— but well, she’d been there for him for so long. He should
at least hear her out. Maybe this was just some kind of misunderstanding. Or maybe she’s just
fucking stupid. He levels her with a glower.

“I am sorry,” she says, firm and neutral. She looks at him over her horn-rimmed glasses,
hands clasped in front of her. “Will you tell me what I’ve done to upset you so much?”

Katsuki tches. He marches back over to the couch and curls up on it, hugging the pillow to
his chest as he slouches.

“We’re— we’re not—” Fuck, just say it! Izuku is not his boyfriend! It shouldn’t be so hard to
get out, it’s the truth.

But the words stick on his tongue. Denying it feels like a dagger plunged into his heart. It
feels… wrong somehow. Katsuki flashes back to being smothered with kisses in the kitchen
and his stomach squirms. But that was just an Izuku-thing, wasn’t it? Katsuki had gone
overboard with his surprise so Izuku responded with an overboard of affection. It didn’t…
didn’t mean anything.

Tanaka is quiet for a moment.

“Katsuki, I did not mean to out you against your will,” she says gravely. “If you were not
ready to discuss your sexuality then I never should have—”

Katsuki facepalms.
“It’s not the gay thing that’s the problem,” he snaps. “It’s Izuku.”

That oughta jog her fucking memory. But she only blinks at him in confusion. He lets his
hand drop as he sighs.

“Izuku? The guy I told to fucking kill himself?” Katsuki’s throat stings at his own reminder.
“The guy I used as a punching bag for fucking years because I couldn’t handle my own shit?
That ring a fuckin’ bell?”

Tanaka sits back in her seat, head tilted to one side like she’s listening in on voices Katsuki
can’t hear. She steeples her hands over her mouth and nods.

“Alright,” she says, perfectly neutral. “And?”

Katsuki sputters.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘and’? He can’t be— he would never— It isn’t right!” Katsuki
cries. “Izuku is kind and selfless and— and perfect, and all I’ve ever done is shit on him and
—” He sighs. Goddammit, he didn’t want to fucking cry today, but here it comes anyway.
“And I can’t have him.”

Tanaka stares at him for a beat. A little sigh streams out her nose.

“And Izuku has told you all this?” she clarifies.

“I— He—” Katsuki struggles for a moment. “He doesn’t have to.”

Tanaka leans back, the leather of her chair squeaking as she sinks into it, her hands still
steepled over her lips as she considers him.

“Doesn’t have to?” she asks. “Or you’ve assumed as much?”

Katsuki’s throat tightens. He has the feeling he’s just walked into a trap.

“Don’t close up on me now, Katsuki, I can feel this is important to you,” Tanaka warns.

Katsuki’s head drops into the pillow still clutched to his chest.

“I don’t need to ask,” he counters, stubbornly. “I can’t— you should fucking know. Of all
people you should know why we can never be together.”

“And why’s that?” she prods.

“I just!” Katsuki rises, his rage ready to explode again. He feels his palms heat, ready to
crackle to life. No, no he’s fucking better than this. He groans, deep and frustrated and
rattling through his chest. He buries his face in his hands and forces himself to talk through it
slowly. “Izuku deserves… someone—someone better. Someone who’s… who’s never hurt
him the way I’ve hurt him, alright? I told you— God I’ve fucking told you all the shit I’ve
done to him— you told me I could never be forgiven—“
“Stop right there,” she says, holding out a weathered palm. “That is not what I said.”

“But—”

“I said,” she continues. “Not to expect forgiveness, Katsuki. Not that forgiveness could never
be obtained.”

“Same difference,” Katsuki mutters.

“Hm,” Tanaka says. She reaches for her clipboard and flips over a few pages. “How are we
feeling right now, Katsuki? I don’t want to push you too far today, but I do think this is
important to talk about.”

This is another thing Katsuki has come to appreciate about Tanaka. She always makes sure to
check in on him before intentionally pushing his boundaries or challenging him. He knows
it’s mostly thanks to her quirk that she’s able to tell when he’s at his limit, but the consent to
go further always feels reassuring. They can stop at any time. It’s only what he’s comfortable
with. He sighs through his nose.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

At his nod she continues.

“Katsuki, be honest with me,” she says. “How do you expect Izuku to ever find this ‘better
person’ for him, when he already has you?”

Katsuki blinks. “What?”

“It’s all right here.” She gestures to her notes. “Hand-holding, lingering embraces, even
kissing on occasion.”

Katsuki flushes so scarlet so quickly it feels like he’s been pan-seared.

“That’s not—” he protests. He covers his eyes with his hand. “It isn’t like that, it’s just—it’s
just. You know, on his forehead and whatever. It— I dunno— it calms him down I guess.”

“Hm right,” Tanaka says, flatly. “Which is why I’m always kissing my patients to calm them
down.”

Katsuki’s sigh is half a growl. “That’s— that’s different. Izuku’s affectionate.”

“Very affectionate,” Tanaka amends. She keeps reading from her clipboard. “‘Sitting in your
lap during lunchtime’ and ‘playing with your hair’ and ‘long wistful gazes’ affectionate.”

“What the fuck is in that file?!” Katsuki snaps. Mortification is an understatement. Has
someone been fucking spying on them? But of course it could only be Lemillion. Goddammit
Katsuki knew that guy was fucking creep. No one accidentally flashes people that many
times without picking up some perverted tendencies. Katsuki groans into his hands.
“Wistful?”

Tanaka shrugs. “I am only reading what was notated.”

Katsuki shakes his head. “Jesus Christ.”

“I thought it was all rather unnecessarily detailed,” she admits. Her brows twitch into a little
frown. “But now… I think I’m starting to see what they mean.”

Katsuki’s stomach drops, breaking through his pelvic floor and smashing into the carpeting.
He makes a small sound of protest.

“What— what does that mean?” he asks, hating how weak he sounds.

Tanaka sighs.

“It means that intimate relationships have labels for a reason, Katsuki,” she says, sounding
suddenly very tired. “It allows us to set boundaries, hold reasonable expectations for each
other. If you’re not able to properly communicate what your needs are to Izuku, you’re
putting yourself in a very vulnerable position.”

Katsuki scowls. “Izuku would never hurt me.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” Tanaka agrees. “But think about it for a moment. What happens
after you graduate? What if he takes an internship in the States and you don’t see him for
years? Are you going to be okay with that?”

Katsuki scoffs. He can’t help but feel a bit pleased. Shows what she knows. Izuku is
promised to him. That’s what she means, right? That’s a boundary. An expectation. Maybe
they were already on the right track sorting out this whole codependency thing.

“Izuku won’t do that,” he says. “We have— we have a deal.”

She seems surprised at his reaction. Her brow quirks and she leans in just a bit further.

“A deal?”

“A promise,” Katsuki clarifies. “To be there for each other forever. We’re— we’re going to
live together after graduation. Be hero partners. Start our own agency. He wouldn’t go
anywhere without me. And I promised I’d never go anywhere without him.”

She stares at him for several solid seconds. Her mouth opens— then closes again, a sigh
streaming out of her nose. She closes her eyes as her brows pinch together.

“Katsuki,” she says, almost sounding exasperated. “Are you sure he’s not in love with you?”

Fuck! Not her, too! Why does everyone keep saying that?! A surge of hope threatens to
strangle him but he bites it down. Katsuki grits his teeth as he clings to his reminders.
“He can’t love me,” Katsuki repeats. “I— you know what I did— I’ve hurt him too much. I
made his life hell. I— I told him to kill himself.”

She tsks. She removes her glasses with a sigh, massaging her temple with two fingers.

“Katsuki, this guilt you are carrying is not healthy,” she says, gravely. She shakes her head
and looks down at her lap with a grimace. “You’re punishing yourself and it does not serve
you.”

“Yeah well,” Katsuki says, slumping back on the couch cushions. “Maybe it’s what I
deserve.”

That hangs in the air for a few moments. Katsuki doesn’t even know what to feel other than
— exposed. Like he’s stripped bare and frighteningly vulnerable. Fuck, maybe— maybe
bringing this up was a mistake. God knows what Izuku’s therapist is telling him right now.
They probably feel sorry that Izuku got stuck being codependent with the person who’d made
his life miserable for over a decade. Katsuki swallows and his throat is sore. He must be truly
despicable for hoping that Izuku’s therapist doesn’t talk sense into him.

Tanaka takes a steadying breath. She checks her watch and slips her glasses back into place.

“And what about what Izuku deserves?” she asks.

Katsuki’s brows cinch. “What do you mean?”

“Does Izuku deserve a partner that he loves and chooses?” she clarifies.

Katsuki’s frown deepens.

“He deserves someone who hasn’t treated him like shit,” he says, flatly.

“Humor me for a moment,” Tanaka says, with a look of cool determination. “Don’t say
anything, just listen, and really consider what I’m about to say. Alright?”

Katsuki nods, once.

“Let’s say Izuku falls in love with someone,” Tanaka begins, and goddammit Katsuki does
not fucking like where this is going. “Just anyone. A guy he meets at a party or someone at
school. Let’s pretend Izuku is very desperately in love with this person. He admires them,
gains strength from their presence, goes to them for comfort and peace. He wants to spend
the rest of his life with this person, and if only they could be together, he would enjoy a very
happy, loving relationship and live a very happy fulfilling life.”

She pauses. Probably trying to gauge his emotional reaction with her nosy-ass quirk. Katsuki
bristles, but he can’t stop the jealousy slithering within him. The fear, the dread. God he just
wants to curl up into a little ball and hide away forever. Izuku deserved a love like that didn’t
he? Katsuki closes his eyes and feels cold.

“Would you stop Izuku from being with this person? This person who makes him
extraordinarily happy?” she asks.
He shakes his head, grimacing.

“Course not,” Katsuki says in a rough whisper. “I’d… I’d want him to be happy.”

It’d hurt like a bitch, but he’d do it. He’d do anything for Izuku. He’s the love of Katsuki’s
life; his happiness is everything to Katsuki. He could never imagine withholding that from
him. Izuku deserves to be loved more than anyone.

“Of course you do,” she says, sagely. “Because you love him.”

Katsuki nods again, shallowly. She gives him a wry little grin.

“I can feel it, you know,” she says, almost sounding amused. She taps at her sternum. “It’s all
right here. You feel things quite intensely, Bakugou Katsuki. Stronger than most.”

Katsuki scoffs. “Yeah. Well. Plus Ultra or whatever.”

That earns him a huff of laughter.

“I want you to imagine one last thing for me,” Tanaka continues, a bit softer now. “This
person Izuku is in love with. The one who makes him so, so happy. The person he wants to
share his life with, even. Let’s pretend that person is you.”

Katsuki winces. He almost chokes. Him?

“He can’t—”

“Let me finish,” Tanaka says, cutting him off quickly. “Would you still stand in his way? Or
would you let him be happy?”

Izuku, I’ll no longer stand in your way. It’s like she’s plucked the words right out of his head.
He’d been half-delirious on excruciating pain and adrenaline, but he remembers the vow he’d
made to himself as he faced down All For One. His only thoughts had been of victory and
Izuku and the need to survive so that he could do right by him. He thought that’s what he’s
been doing this whole time.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Tanaka says, patiently. “You haven’t done anything wrong. This is just a
hypothetical. What would you do?”

He— He— Fuck, Katsuki doesn’t know. He buries his face in his hands.

“I just… I just don’t deserve him,” he admits.

“This isn’t about you,” Tanaka corrects gently. “This is about Izuku’s happiness.”

Katsuki winces.

“I… I dunno,” Katsuki says, slowly. He paws at his chest, like it can somehow soothe the
strange tangle of hope and guilt squirming inside. He shakes his head. “Izuku is just so…
self-sacrificing. He doesn’t know what’s good for him. He—he might think he wants me, but
— but that doesn’t mean I’m good for him.”

“Do you not trust Izuku?” Tanaka prods.

Katsuki grimaces. “Not with himself.”

“Well, we’ll need to work on that then,” she says. She checks her watch again and sighs. “I’m
afraid we’re out of time, dear, but I do appreciate you bringing this up to me.” She retrieves
her clipboard and jots down several, rambling notes. “I do have a challenge for you though.”

Katsuki sends her a flat look. Her ‘challenges’ are never any fun. She smiles at him wryly.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to start small,” she says. “Just a little open communication. I want
you to ask if Izuku is happy.”

His scoff is half-disbelief, half dry amusement. “What, like in general?”

She shrugs. “If you like. Just whenever you are with him next. Find a good moment, a
moment where you think he might be happy, and then ask, just to make sure.”

When Katsuki continues to frown in confusion, she smirks.

“The challenge,” she adds, “is to believe him when he tells you that he is.”

The rest of the week passes by in a daze. Katsuki isn’t sure what he’s feeling, really. His
therapy session has left him feeling lighter, that’s for sure, but also disoriented. There’s a
dreamy sense of unreality to everything that has him feeling untethered and… insecure. He’d
just been so sure Tanaka would know that a romantic relationship with Izuku was impossible,
but she, just like Kaminari, Kirishima, and everyone else, treated it like it was a given. And
she knows everything . It feels like the world has been upended. Like the very foundation of
his reality has just been ripped out from under him. Is… is Katsuki the one in the wrong
here? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d wildly misinterpreted his relationship with Izuku.
How many years did he spend convinced that Izuku looked down on him? When in reality,
the truth was just the opposite. Could… could the same thing be happening here?

Are you sure he’s not in love with you?

Of course he isn’t. Katsuki bristles at the thought as he tosses and turns, Izuku snoring softly
on the other end of the line. He knows Izuku better than anyone, he should be the first person
to know if Izuku was in love. Right? Izuku is so expressive; every thought he has is written in
those enormous evergreen eyes of his.

But then Katsuki thinks of Izuku’s praises, his neediness, his kisses. And wonders… wonders
if maybe…

He’s getting ahead of himself. Tanaka didn’t say anything about confessing his love right
away, and she didn’t say anything about pushing Izuku away, either. She’d said to start small.
Katsuki can’t help the stab of irritation. The ‘challenge.’ Whatever. At least she won’t be able
to say he was being uncooperative.

Somehow he’s even more anxious picking Izuku up the second week than he was the first.
His palms are sweatier than usual and he’d been so worked up that he’s forgotten his
disguise. The stares and whispers aren’t fucking helping his nerves. This is so stupid, it’s just
a question. Why is he so afraid of the answer?

What if he says no? he can’t help but wonder. Tanaka seemed so sure of herself, but she
doesn’t know Izuku. Not like Katsuki does. At least he knows Izuku well enough to be able
to tell if he’s lying to him.

Izuku gets off the train and Katsuki can’t help but notice that he looks miserable. Slouched
with exhaustion, face gaunt and lifeless— fuck, maybe he’ll have to wait until Izuku gets
some rest before he’s able to ask anyway. But then Izuku spots him and lights up like a
Christmas tree. He’s grinning so hard it looks like it hurts, his eyes sparkle with tears
immediately. He drops his suitcase and runs to him. Katsuki couldn’t stop himself from
rushing forward even if he wanted to. They crash into one another, fitting together like two
puzzle pieces snapping into place. Katsuki sighs, the anxiety seeping away as relief washes
through him.

“God, I missed you,” Izuku says, turning in and leaving smacking kisses on Katsuki’s cheek.
“Missed you so much.”

“Missed you,” Katsuki echoes. Fuck it, it’s now or never. Katsuki won’t be able to enjoy any
of their time together if he still has this stupid ‘challenge’ hanging over his head. “Zu?”

“Hmm?” Izuku’s hum buzzes through his kisses. Katsuki shivers.

“Are—” Katsuki swallows. “Are you… happy?”

Katsuki feels like a fucking moron the second the question leaves his lips. Izuku stills in his
arms. He draws back and Katsuki can see the confusion in his gaze. Katsuki’s heart thuds
painfully in his chest. Goddammit what was he thinking? This ‘challenge’ was stupid,
ridiculous even— But then Izuku smiles. Shining and sincere. He cups Katsuki’s face in his
deliciously rough palm, smoothing over Katsuki’s cheek with his thumb.

“I am now,” Izuku says, low and earnest.

Oh. A hard lump gathers in Katsuki’s throat. Tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Of
course he is. Katsuki can see it plain as day: the pleased flush in his cheeks, the deep dimples
 in his grin, the delight dancing in his eyes.

Izuku’s brows cinch together, just a touch of worry flickering through his gaze. “Are you?”

Katsuki wants to laugh. He feels about a million different things: awe and hope and wonder
and love. He draws Izuku in close and squeezes him.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, roughly. “Yeah I am.”

Chapter End Notes

kacchan: don't you have some kind of diagnosis for me or something

therapist: i diagnose you as gay lol congratulations

sorry about the wait for this one!! i caught covid and then hori released chapter 424 and
that sent me into a fugue state for two solid weeks because jesus christ hori what the
fuck what the hell what the fuck hori (i do have to say that i had kacchan say "the rest of
our lives" first but hori had kacchan say "for the rest of our lives" gayer so we're at a tie
now hori, lets see if you can out gay me once again)

thank you so so much for your comments!! they really kept me motivated to keep
writing even though this chapter took like. a solid eight drafts before it felt right. but
rereading all the nice things y'all had to say kept me feeling good and determined and is
the reason this is even going out <3 <3 <3 please please tell me what you think about
this chapter!! I hope it was fun for everyone hehe <3 <3 <3

some say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr !! ily thank

you so much!!

edit: ahhh you can find adorable art based on this chapter here!!
 the greatest birthday of all goddamn time
Chapter Notes

:)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next few weeks are easier. They’re still not great by any means: the days without Izuku
are still sluggish, and the nights are long and dull, but it does get better. Therapy is
annoyingly helpful. Tanaka gives him lots of grounding exercises to help him deal with his
anxiety, provides him with strategies to help stop his spiraling thoughts before they begin,
and talks him through managing his guilt.

“There is nothing we can do about the past,” Tanaka reminds him gently. Like she has
countless times throughout their time together. Katsuki huffs through his nose irritably. “We
can only focus on what we can do to make things better now.”

She’s right. And he can make things better because he makes Izuku happy. Katsuki can see
that now. Somehow having it put into words has made all the difference. It’s like a veil has
been lifted and it’s just so painfully obvious . It’s in the way Izuku always leans into Katsuki
when he laughs, the light that returns to his eyes when they reunite, the tenderness in his
hands when he touches him, and the open sincerity in all his sweet words. Katsuki keeps
catching himself staring at him: Izuku’s bright smile as he chatters about his day over
FaceTime, his pleased little eating noises he’s munches on the bentos Katsuki has packed for
him, his laughter at Katsuki’s quips while they fold laundry. Katsuki sits back and absorbs the
moments, appreciating them for what they really are for the first time.

I make him happy, he thinks, over and over again. I make Izuku happy.

God, it makes his heart ache in the most wonderful way. Despite everything, despite not
deserving it in the slightest, Katsuki is somehow able to make the love of his life happy. It
makes his stomach roll and his heart flutter. How the hell did he get so lucky? Katsuki still
struggles to accept it sometimes, but it’s easier to let the guilt go when the proof of Izuku’s
joy lies so blatantly before him.

Tanaka gives him more assignments to help them work through their codependency too.
Mostly trust exercises, practicing open communication, setting and maintaining boundaries.
Oddly, all of the exercises seem to be focused on bringing them closer together rather than
driving them apart. Izuku looks pleased when Katsuki mentions it.

“My therapist said something similar,” Izuku admits as he lays in the circle of Katsuki’s
arms, hair still a bit damp from his shower and cheeks flushed. They’ve just wrapped up a
particularly intense afternoon of sparring sessions and Katsuki is more than ready just to
relax the rest of the night. He combs Izuku’s curls out of his face, just because he can. Izuku
leans into his touch with a little grin. I make him happy, Kastuki thinks with a flutter.

“Being less codependent…” Izuku goes on, frowning as he formulates his thoughts. “It was
never supposed to be about driving us apart. It’s… it’s about taking care of me so I can take
care of you.”

Katsuki hums to show he’s listening. And he is. But he’s also a little distracted by how many
new freckles Izuku has obtained now that summer has come to coax the subtler ones out.
He’s a star-speckled wonder. Each little mark is like a target that begs for Katsuki’s lips. The
one by the corner of Izuku’s mouth is the most tempting. Would that be a step too far? Fuck,
he’ll have to wait until Izuku is talking about something less important anyway.

“I guess at first I was scared,” Izuku admits softly. His hands tighten into fists in the front of
Katsuki’s skull tee. He does that a lot when they’re practicing ‘open communication’, like
he’s afraid Katsuki is going to run away if he says the wrong thing. “I’ve been wishing you’d
rely on me my whole life and— and this whole thing— it felt like they were trying to take
you away from me.”

“Not happening,” Katsuki interjects sharply. Izuku smiles, eyes glittering with relief.

“I— I know,” he says, softly. “But they’re also kind of right. If something happened to you,
and you were in the hospital or something— I would need to be able to take care of myself
first. If I couldn’t sleep while you were incapacitated, then I wouldn’t be able to be useful to
you when you needed me. I need to be able to stand on my own so you can truly rely on me.
It’s like—well she phrased it way better but—” He struggles for a moment as he thinks. “In a
way… taking care of me is taking care of you… right? Because I know you worry about me
and I—I wanna do my part to help you worry less.”

Warmth blooms in Katsuki’s chest. It clicks for Katsuki then, too. Everything. This whole
ordeal will make them stronger together. Isn’t that what Katsuki has wanted all along? To be
the very best with Izuku at his side? He can’t help grinning then.

“Me too,” Katsuki admits. He gives Izuku’s curls a soft tug and Izuku huffs, disgruntled.
“God knows you freak out enough as it is.”

Izuku scoffs and jabs at him. “Rude!”

Katsuki jabs back, and soon enough they’re wrestling again. Izuku is done for the moment
Katsuki manages to tickle the sensitive flesh under his arms.

“No! Mercy! No tickling! That’s a boundary! A boundary!” he wheezes, his eyes watering
instantly.

“You’re so full of shit,” Katsuki says, but then he gets a better idea. He lets the full weight of
his knees drop onto Izuku’s thighs, pinning his arms above his head with one hand and
shucking up his shirt with the other. He stoops down low, hovering over the newly exposed
skin and watching Izuku’s abs tighten as his breath hitches. And then Katsuki smashes his
face into Izuku’s belly, blowing a raspberry into his soft flesh.
“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, thrashing underneath him. "What are you, five?”

“You said no tickling,” Katsuki points out. He seeks a new spot, just a bit to the left, and
Izuku’s abs flex as he gives him another. Izuku’s laughter is shrill and bright.

“I was kidding!”

I make him happy. God, how has Katsuki missed it all this time? It’s in Izuku’s flush, his
deep-dimpled grin, the wild gleam in his evergreen eyes. Katsuki stops to stare at him then,
drinking it all in. It strikes a deep, powerful chord in his chest and all at once he feels
dangerously close to tears.

“Kacchan?” Izuku says, still breathing hard as he glances up at him curiously. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki gruffs. He releases Izuku, smoothing down his shirt for him. He settles back
down to lay beside him and Izuku reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers.

“You sure?” Izuku prods. He brings their hands to his lips and kisses Katsuki’s littlest finger.
A quiet reminder of his promise to be there for him.

“I’m good,” Katsuki assures, smiling softly. “I promise.”

Izuku wiggles in closer, examining him critically like he’s checking Katsuki’s sincerity for
himself. Katsuki brings their joined hands to his lips and gives Izuku’s pinky a kiss of his
own.

I’m gonna keep making you happy, Katsuki vows to himself then. Because Tanaka is right.
There’s nothing he can do about the past, but their future can still be good. Better even,
because Katsuki is in it and making it that way.

Izuku’s eyes glitter with mischief. He brings Katsuki’s palm to his mouth and blows a truly
terrible raspberry into it. Katsuki throws his head back and laughs.

How can he keep making Izuku happy? It’s genuinely a struggle to think of what else Katsuki
can possibly do. He already does everything Izuku asks of him; the goddamn nerd has
Katsuki wrapped around his little finger. Katsuki can’t stop trying to think of doing
something even bigger though. Something to really prove just how much Izuku means to
him, how much Katsuki has changed.

And then it hits him. Of course. Izuku’s birthday is only a few weeks away. This is his golden
opportunity, the perfect excuse to do something truly special for Izuku. His birthday last year
had been tainted by the aftershocks of war and the media had been in such a frenzy that they
hadn’t been able to leave campus anyway. But not this year. This year, Katsuki is going to go
all out. Katsuki grins wickedly; he’s going to give Izuku the Greatest Birthday of All
Goddamn Time.

Katsuki calls Uraraka on break while out on patrol. He’s ducked into an alleyway for some
semblance of privacy as Kirishima facetimes Mina at a cafe around the corner.

Uraraka picks up on the third ring, but says nothing. No greeting or hello. Just breathing into
the phone like a total weirdo. Katsuki scowls.

“Hello?” he prods.

“Oh my god I thought you butt-dialed me,” Uraraka says, blunt as ever.

Jesus Christ. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but he supposes that’s fair. It’s not like he’s ever had a
reason to call her before.

“Listen, I need to talk to you,” Katsuki grouses. “It’s about Izuku.”

“Uh oh,” Uraraka says, wryly. “Trouble in paradise?”

“What the fuck?” Katsuki suddenly remembers why he avoids talking to her. Unlike
Kirishima and Kaminari, she has absolutely no fear of his wrath. “No, idiot, we’re fine.
We’re fucking fine.”

Uraraka makes an unconvinced sound. Katsuki’s scowl deepens.

“It’s about his birthday,” Katsuki continues, exasperated. Goddamn it, why is a flush creeping
up his collar right now? “I wanna—I dunno. Throw a surprise party or something. Do
something special.”

Uraraka is silent for three solid beats.

“So?” Katsuki snaps, face red-hot under his mask. “Are you gonna help me or what?”

“Oh sorry!” Uraraka says, and to her credit she at least sounds genuine. Her nervous laugh
sounds just like Izuku’s. “I just— you wanna throw Izuku a surprise party?”

Not really. The last thing Katsuki wants is fuss and noise. But this is for Izuku, not him.

“You know how he is,” Katsuki grumbles, He leans up against the brickwall, scuffing his
boots against the pavement. He can hear Kirishima’s laughter echo down the alleyway. “He
likes dumb shit like that.”

“That’s true.”

“I wanna go all out, make it the best birthday he’s ever had,” Katsuki adds. It sort of kills him
to admit it, but he goes on, “And I dunno what the fuck I’m doin’ so I need your help.”

“Ah,” Uraraka says, breath huffing into the receiver.

God, this shit is so embarrassing. Katsuki grits his teeth. For Izuku, he reminds himself
fiercely.

“Alright, I’m in,” Uraraka says casually and thank god. Katsuki slumps with relief. “I’ll come
back to the dorms tonight and we’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” Katsuki says, gruff and soft.

He can hear Uraraka shudder on the other end of the line.

“I’m still not used to you being so mushy,” she adds.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Uraraka has gone to the trouble of gathering their friends. It takes all of their phones and a
laptop since almost everyone is spread across the country for their internships. Only
Kirishima and Uraraka are physically present; Kaminari and Mina share one laptop set up on
the coffee table in the common room, Sero is on facetime through Kirishima’s phone,
propped up against the couch, and Momo is on through Uraraka’s. She’s the one with actual
party-planning expertise, after all.

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Momo cries when Katsuki tells her his plan. “Bakugou-kun, you’re so
thoughtful.”

Katsuki has to remind himself that the embarrassment is a stepping stone on his path to
redemption.

“Yeah well, he didn’t get to ever have birthday parties when we were kids, so,” Katsuki says,
trying to sound dismissive. His stomach twists with guilt and he pushes it down. There’s
nothing we can do about the past. “We gotta make this one a good one. I’ve been saving my
allowance so we have fifty-thousand yen to work with.”

“That should cover cake and balloons at least,” Kirishima says, nodding encouragingly. He’s
dragged out the giant whiteboard Iida keeps hidden in his dorm room and makes note of their
budget.

“And streamers!” Mina chimes in.

Kirishima turns to smile at her like she just hung the moon or some shit. Katsuki rolls his
eyes. Jesus, being in love has made Kirishima fucking nauseating to be around.

“I have like four thousand yen I can chip in,” Uraraka adds. Kirishima quickly erases and
adjusts. She rubs her chin thoughtfully. “I’m sure if we asked Iida-kun we could get more.”

“Todoroki too!” Sero says, pumping a fist.

Katsuki snorts. That’s true. God knows Todoroki would bankrupt his father’s agency if Izuku
asked for it nicely. He whips out his phone and shoots him a quick text.

“Oh! I can chip in my allowance!” Momo cries. “Hang on, Ochako-chan, I’ll Venmo you.”

Ping! Uraraka goes white.

“Yaomomo!” she cries. She sits up in her seat, clutching at the front of her tank top. “You
can’t— you shouldn’t—How did the app even allow you to send that much?”

Katsuki peers over her shoulder to check the figure and Jesus Christ. He breaks into an evil
grin.

“Did I do something wrong?” Momo asks, sounding worried. She looks between all of them
and massages the webbing between her fingers.

“Nah,” Katsuki says. “It’s perfect.”

Another ping! Katsuki checks his phone and holy fuck Todoroki too? Katsuki feels dizzy
looking at all those zeroes. Kaminari squeals like a girl when the new budget is scrawled on
the whiteboard.

“This is gonna be so lit!” he cries, giving Mina a double high-five.

Brainstorming quickly gets out of hand now that their budget is basically unlimited. Music,
food, lights, a location— it’s quickly agreed it shouldn’t be a rager. Izuku would be happier if
Eri and All Might could be there, after all. They’ll have the party out on campus grounds: set
up canopies and carnival games, hire vendors for food and rent out small attractions.
Kaminari does some googling and things quickly spiral out of control.

“A mini Ferris Wheel isn’t even that expensive to rent!” Kaminari cries. Everyone makes
excited noises at the prospect and Katsuki feels lightheaded.

“A Ferris Wheel?” Katsuki repeats.

Uraraka sends him a significant glance. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go all out.”

That’s… true. Fuck, alright. He nods his consent.

“We’ll have to make sure we get a permit for that,” Uraraka adds, scratching her chin
thoughtfully. Kirishima adds it to the list on the whiteboard. “Ooh, what about a swinging
carousel?”

Everyone makes happy noises of agreement. Okay, they’re definitely going overboard.
Katsuki’s heart races, but— well, he supposes he has about a dozen birthdays to make up for.
Fuck it, yeah whatever. If anyone deserves a whole fucking carnival for their birthday, it’s
Izuku. Which reminds him. He whips out his phone again and texts his mom.

“Someone is going to need to distract Midoriya while we get this all set up,” Sero comments.
Kaminari shoots Katsuki a lazy grin. “Oh gee wonder who could do that for us.”

Katsuki flushes but doesn’t protest. Izuku’s actual birthday is on a Thursday, but they went
ahead and made plans for the party to be on the Saturday after. Even if Katsuki wanted to
pawn the job off onto someone else, he doubts Izuku would let it happen. The weekends were
their precious little time together; there is no way Izuku would be okay spending the whole
day apart.

“You should keep him out of the dorms Friday night, too,” Momo adds. “We’re gonna need
more than one day to get this all set up.”

“He’s going to get suspicious,” Katsuki warns. Though he supposes he’ll be more suspicious
if he sees a mini-carnival appearing on school property.

“You’ll figure it out,” Uraraka says, waving a hand dismissively. “Bat your eyelashes at him
or something, I dunno.” Katsuki scoffs. “Oh, don’t act like it’s hard.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Katsuki gruffs. He can’t help smirking a bit. Alone all weekend with Izuku.
His stomach flutters.

Sero shakes his head, rolling his eyes fondly. “Course you get the easy job.”

“It’s an important job!” Kirishima defends quickly.

Mina shoots Katsuki a cat-like grin.

“Gonna have Midoriya-kun to yourself allllll weekend,” Mina teases.

“Not what this is about,” Katsuki says, tersely. Even though that’s exactly what he’d been
thinking. Fuck, his blush is all-too damning.

“Babe, don’t tease him,” Kirishima says, patting Katsuki’s shoulder soothingly. “He’s
sensitive.”

Katsuki wrenches out of his grip, flashing hot with sudden fury. “I’m not sensitive!”

Kaminari leans in to whisper in Mina’s ear, “Last time we brought it up he cried.”

Momo and Mina coo sympathetically, and Uraraka snorts. Steam gushes out of Katsuki’s
ears.

“No, I didn’t!” Katsuki protests, flustered. “I wasn’t crying; I was just drunk! You all fuckin’
ganged up on me!”

They all nod at him, humming placatingly. Uraraka’s amusement is barely concealed.
Kirishima tries to pat his shoulder again, but Katsuki smacks his hand away before he can.

“Can we fuckin’ focus on party planning?” Katsuki snaps. “We only have a few weeks to put
all this shit together.”
“Right, right,” Kirishima says, nodding hurriedly. He snaps his fingers. “Ooh, what should
we do for cake?”

“Cupcakes would be easiest,” Momo says, knowingly.

“What about ice cream cake?” Mina chimes in.

“I know!” Kaminari cries, thrusting a hand in the air like they’re in class. “What if we get
him a cake in the shape of All Might’s face? He loves All Might!”

Everyone oohs like he’s just made a great point. Katsuki sighs and folds his arms across his
chest.

“No, idiot,” Katsuki says, flatly. “He’ll get all emotional about ruining All Might’s likeness
and get weird about eating it.” Even if he had no problem eating one of his hairs. Ew. “Just
get a cake with All Might’s colors. Vanilla. Buttercream frosting. And no fucking sprinkles.
It’s a weird texture thing; he doesn’t like it. And no ice cream cake. We get that shit separate
because he likes orange sherbert for some fucking reason.”

There’s a beat of silence. They all blink at him like he’s just grown a second head. Kirishima
clears his throat and makes a note on the board.

“Okay,” he says, lightly. “Got it.”

What the fuck are they all staring at him for? Anyone who actually paid attention to the nerd
should know this shit already. Katsuki bristles.

“What about decorations?” Momo continues. “I know we said streamers and balloons… but I
was thinking maybe we could do some fairy lights and flower arrangements, too!”

“Flower arrangements?” Kaminari repeats, incredulously.

Momo pouts as she curls in on herself self-consciously.

“Well… I dunno…” she says. “Just an idea.”

“Zu likes flowers,” Katsuki offers. He remembers the way Izuku had brightened when they’d
gone bouquet shopping for mother’s day. He’d touched all of the petals with reverent fingers
and leaned in to sniff each blossoming bud. Katsuki softens with the memories. Damn, he
should really get him a bouquet sometime soon. Maybe as a surprise after surviving the
summer apart. “Roses and sunflowers are his favorites, but he likes daisies too. Anything but
tulips, they make him sneeze like crazy. Oh and no fucking lilies, or he’ll get paranoid about
poisoning the street cats.”

Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and Uraraka all exchange significant glances. Momo
brightens.

“I can work with that!” she cries, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Oh, there’s this
wonderful boutique I’ve been dying to try out! It’ll be so much fun!”
Katsuki certainly hopes so, considering how much she’s contributing to the budget. Fuck,
he’s gonna have to get her some fancy-ass tea to make it up to her.

“What about food?” Kaminari continues. “Do we do a full dinner or—?”

“I know a great catering company!” Momo offers. Uraraka shakes her head.

“I think it should be more casual,” she counters. “Snacks and junk food. Like a real carnival,
you know?”

“So what should we get?” Sero asks. “Pizza? A taco truck?”

Everyone turns to look at Katsuki as one. His stomach flips. God, he didn’t even know it was
possible to blush so much.

“He’d like a takoyaki truck better,” Katsuki says. Kirishima writes it down quickly. “Just
nothing too spicy or he’ll be a big baby about it, and—“ Katsuki smiles at the memory. A
little Izuku, wild-eyed at the amusement park and hopped up on too much sugar. “He really
loves a good crepe.”

Uraraka’s grin is strangely wicked.

“He does like a good crepe,” she says, something suspicious and loaded in her tone. Katsuki
scowls at her, but her grin only broadens. “And you said you didn’t know what you were
doing.”

The room titters with laughter. Katsuki slumps against the couch, folding his arms across his
chest and making a great show of sulking.

There are a few more details to work out. They debate over whether they should rent
canopies or have Momo make them with her lipids, if they could get permission to use the
sound system from the school festival, how many fairy lights would they need to buy to
cover the lawn. They’ll need to get permission to host a party on campus, but Katsuki isn’t
too worried about that. They’d thrown a similar outdoor party for Eri’s birthday last year.
Hell, at this rate they might even get the same Merry-Go-Round she’d gotten too.

“Alright, Kirishima, you'll be incharge of setting off the fireworks, then,” Uraraka decides.

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima says, activating his quirk as if to show he’s firework-proof.

“Jirou will DJ,” Uraraka says, making another note on her phone. A thumbs up from
Kaminari. “Momo and I will get balloons and flowers. We’ll ask around for volunteers to set
up the canopies, tables, and games… anything else?”

Katsuki hesitates. He almost doesn’t want to. But then he thinks of Izuku’s smile and steels
himself.

“Yeah,” Katsuki cuts in. He rumages for his phone to show them. “There’s one thing.”
The memories are hazy, but his mom has just texted him a photo of the picture from his baby
book. The bouncy castle Katsuki had gotten for his seventh birthday had been All Might
themed and massive, with several separate little rooms to bound around in and a huge slide.
He still remembers Izuku’s delight, the wild excitement in his eyes as they’d chased each
other around for hours. He remembers Izuku tugging on his mother’s elbow and asking if he
could get it for his birthday too. Katsuki had been smug when he overheard. As if anyone
would show up to a quirkless loser’s birthday party. Katsuki knows he never got it.

“A bouncy castle?” Uraraka repeats, frowning.

“Just trust me on this,” Katsuki says, quickly.

Glances are all exchanged around the room. Kaminari shakes his head with a tsk.

“Don’t tell me,” he says, waving a hand. “This is some lovey dovey, childhood-friends
bullshit, isn’t it?”

Sero and Mina snort into their hands and Katsuki sputters.

“You wanna fuckin’ die today Dunce Face?” he roars.

“It totally is!” Mina says, grinning wickedly at Katsuki through the camera. “You love him.”

Sero makes a gagging noise, but everyone else giggles and awws like this all adorable instead
of absolutely mortifying. Katsuki growls through his teeth and Uraraka rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t act like it’s a secret,” she says, dismissively. She slumps back into the couch with
a sigh. “Alright, add the big gay bouncy castle to the list.”

The room bursts into mad cackling laughter and fuck, Katsuki’s stomach roils with
embarrassment. He blushes so hard it stings. God, this stupid surprise party better be worth it.
Katsuki thinks he should win the Nobel fucking Peace Prize for not hurling abuse at every
single one of them. He forces himself to breathe through it, hands clenched into fists and
palms smoking as he fights to restrain himself. For Izuku, for the Greatest Birthday of All
Goddamn Time.

“Can we fuckin’ stay on task?” Katsuki snaps.

“Sorry bro!” Kirishima says, dabbing at his eyes. “She got you good!”

They keep planning, and god knows they’re all going to have their hands full for the next few
weeks, but Katsuki’s mind wanders off. He still has to think of a way to keep Izuku busy
while they set up the party. But he thinks he has a pretty good idea for that too. Fuck, this is
totally going to be over-the-top, but it’s fine. It’ll be like celebrating all eighteen birthdays
rolled into one. He smirks to himself. They’re gonna blow the nerd’s goddamn mind.
On Izuku’s actual birthday, two days before his party on Saturday, Izuku facetimes him with a
mischievous little grin.

“Are you keeping secrets from me?” Izuku asks, lighthearted and teasing. He’s cross-legged
on his hotel-bed in Fukuoka, his weighted bunny plushie perched in his lap.

“Uh yeah,” Katsuki answers, grinning back at him through the screen. He rests his chin on
the heel of his palm, laying on his belly in bed.

“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, rocking back as he laughs. “You’re not supposed to tell me!”

“Oh my bad,” Katsuki says, breezily. “Don’t make any plans on Saturday.”

Izuku giggles and squeezes his weighted plushy to his chest. Lately he’s been forcing the
cheery, candy-colored bunny into one of Katsuki’s grungy skull t-shirts and the poor thing
looks more than a little ridiculous

“Mmm, fine I guess I can keep Saturday open for you,” Izuku says, eyes twinkling with
amusement. I make him happy, Katsuki thinks and his stomach swooshes.

“You better,” Katsuki says, trying to sound stern. “I gotta full day planned, alright? Don’t
pussy out on me.”

Izuku giggles again. “Okay, Kacchan.”

“Oh, and I promised your mom I’d make dinner for you two on Friday,” Katsuki continues,
hoping he sounds casual and not like his whole plan entirely rides on it. “So we won’t be
coming back to the dorms. Good?”

Izuku squints at him skeptically and fuck. Katsuki’s heart is heavy as it pounds in his chest.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, voice even. “What are you up to?”

Katsuki hopes Izuku doesn’t notice his ears blushing.

“That’s for me to to know, and for you to fuckin’ find out,” Katsuki shoots back. That earns
him a laugh.

“ Kacchan ,” Izuku presses, batting his big ole doe eyes at him. He wiggles in toward the
camera. “Don’t I even get one little hint?”

Stay strong, Katsuki. He shakes his head firmly.

“No way nerd,” he says. “I ain’t spoilin’ your surprise.”

Surprises, he corrects in his mind. Izuku makes such a sweet, pitiful sound.
“Please?” His bottom lip protrudes as he begs. “It’s my birthday.”

God, Katsuki fucking loves him. This is bad news. How’s he supposed to deny Izuku
anything when he asks for it like that?

“One hint,” Katsuki allows. Izuku shimmies his shoulders excitedly. “I’ll answer one
question and that’s it, you hear me?”

“Hmmm,” Izuku says, scratching under his chin as he thinks. He shuffles to recline against
the headboard. “Shit.”

Fuck, he’s cute when he curses. Katsuki just wants to grab him, and squeeze his cheeks, and
— and well a lot of things really. Izuku considers for long moments, muttering to himself, but
no questions coming forth. His frown deepens.

“Really?” Katsuki asks, wryly. “You fuckin’ beg me for a hint and now you don’t know?”

“Well I only get one!” Izuku cries, throwing a hand in the air in exasperation. “I gotta make it
count!”

Katsuki hums, low and amused. Izuku pouts harder and Katsuki imagines what it might be
like to suck on his protruding bottom lip. A warm curl of arousal unfurls in his gut.
Goddamnit, focus.

“Hmm…” Izuku’s eyes brighten with mischief as he looks Katsuki up and down. “Alright I
got one.”

Katsuki arches a brow at him and Izuku’s face splits into a grin.

“Why are you so insistent on keeping it a secret?” Izuku continues.

Katsuki snorts. Silly, ridiculous nerd. Katsuki scooches in a bit, drawing the phone in close.

“‘Cuz you said you liked surprises,” he says, lowly.

Izuku’s breath hitches. His lashes flutter as he scans Katsuki’s face, plush lips slightly parted.
God, Katsuki just wants to ruin him.

“Oh,” Izuku says, shakily. But then he blinks and snaps out of it. “Wait!”

“Nope!” Katsuki says. He grins savagely as he leans back. “I said one question!”

Izuku’s whine is loud and pitiful. “Kacchan!”

Katsuki cackles meanly. “Not my fault you wasted it.”

“Ugh!”

Izuku huffs and puffs and pouts even harder. He goes so far as to drop the phone and let
Katsuki laugh at the ceiling.
“Oi! Get back here!” Katsuki calls. “Zu!”

They bicker about it playfully the rest of the night. Izuku pulls out every trick in the book—
whining, bargaining, fake-crying— but Katsuki remains firm. God knows the extras would
fucking murder him if he spoiled their plans.

“Just trust me,” Katsuki says, when Izuku doesn’t stop sulking. “Saturday is gonna knock
your fuckin’ socks off.”

Katsuki picks Izuku up from the train station on Friday, this time with an overnight bag of his
own and a serious case of the jitters. He can’t help feeling a sharp thrill every time he thinks
of all his plans for tomorrow. Fuck, he just wants it to be absolutely perfect. Izuku
disembarks, running to him and throwing himself into Katsuki’s arms as he always does.
Katsuki grins as they embrace.

“Happy Birthday, nerd,” he whispers.

“Mmm,” Izuku hums into his throat. He draws back to kiss Katsuki’s cheek. “I’m ready to
have my socks knocked off.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh. He kisses Izuku’s cheek in return.

“Good,” he says, honestly. He better be, because otherwise Izuku is going to fucking murder
him when he sees all the trouble he’s gone to.

They hold hands as they head to Izuku’s home. Izuku chatters excitedly about just how nice
his birthday week has been: Shimizu had treated him to lunch on his birthday, Mirko had
bought cupcakes for the whole office, and he’d even gotten to test out the beta version of his
Blackwhip support item just this afternoon. He’s most excited about that last one and he’s
still gushing about it when they turn onto his street. Midoriya Inko opens the door when she
sees them approach, rushing forward to sweep them both into a hug.

“Mom, don’t smother him!” Izuku cries, as she yanks them down and blubbers. Katsuki
waves him off. It’s fine. After all the shit he’s done to her son— well, enduring a little
smothering is the least he can do to make up for it, really.

They head inside the house and— oh. It hits Katsuki all in a rush. Fuck, he hasn’t been
inside this house in years. They’d always met up at Katsuki’s home when Izuku came back to
visit his mom or else Katsuki would wait for him outside, not wanting to intrude. The
memories flashback to him vivid and sharp. There’s the wall he and Izuku had colored all
over as toddlers, a stain in the carpet where Katsuki had spilled chocolate milk and blamed
Izuku for it, the staircase he used to chase Izuku up as they raced to play in Izuku’s room.
Everything here is all so achingly familiar; a lump gathers in Katsuki’s throat. Izuku takes his
overnight bag for him and marches upstairs to drop it off in his room while Katsuki soaks it
all in. God, it even smells the same. Like cinnamon and Izuku and something else that’s
distinctly homey.

Some things are different. A new couch, a bigger TV. There are new family photos on the
walls and several framed news-clippings of Izuku’s heroic deeds. Katsuki stops to admire
them, heart soft with fondness. Izuku marches back downstairs again, but Inko quickly calls
him into the kitchen, demanding he tell her everything about Fukuoka. Katsuki hears it all
distantly, too busy processing that he’s really back here after all these years. It’s affecting him
more than he’d expected, tugging at sensitive strings in his chest.

Katsuki follows the trail of Izukus throughout the years into the living room. God, he used to
be so gawky and tiny. There he is in middle school with his acne and braces. Elementary
school with his scabby knees and bandaged cheeks. There’s a complicated tangle of guilt and
affection in Katsuki’s gut as he takes it all in. This is the Izuku that Katsuki had tormented all
those years. Small, helpless, in need of a friend. And god, it fucking kills him. It’s a knife
plunged between his ribs that twists and twists. Izuku had needed to be protected and Katsuki
had— had— fuck! Remembering it makes him fucking sick. The lump in his throat threatens
to strangle him.

One photo makes his breath stop short. An old one, set on the mantle above the couch. A
framed image of a tiny Izuku and tiny Katsuki with their arms around each other, their gap-
toothed smiles so big and bright. Katsuki is looking at the camera, but Izuku is looking at
him. God, Katsuki can see it all too clearly now. Izuku had adored him. And Katsuki had
thrown it away and worse he— fuck . The tears burn in his eyes. Katsuki trembles as he
touches the photo with two tender fingers, too afraid of dropping it to pick it up.

“Kacchan?”

Izuku’s hand cups his elbow. Katsuki startles, shaking himself out of it and sniffing.

“Sorry,” he says, too gruffly. He has to cut this shit out now. He can’t afford to ruin Izuku’s
birthday with his guilt. “I’ll— I’ll start dinner.”

Izuku looks up at him, huge evergreen eyes full of concern. He pets Katsuki’s arm
soothingly.

“Hey,” Izuku says, quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Katsuki blinks his tears back hard and clears his throat. Fuck, focus. There’s nothing that we
can do about the past. All he can do is try to make Izuku happy now. He forces himself to
smile, but even he can feel that it’s weak. He checks to make sure Inko is busy rummaging
through the kitchen cupboards before cupping the back of Izuku’s neck and dropping a quick
kiss onto his brow.

“Just memories,” Katsuki whispers.

“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku says, devastatingly soft. “It’s okay.”

It isn’t. But they can talk about it later. Right now, Katsuki has a job to do. He sniffs, forcing
himself to breathe evenly as he presses their foreheads together.

“I’m gonna make this the best birthday you’ve ever had,” he promises.

“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku says, chiding. “If I’m with you, then it already is.”

Oh. Fuck.

Are you sure he’s not in love with you?

“Izuku tells me you’re a wonderful cook, Katsuki-kun!” Inko calls from the kitchen. “I made
sure to get all the ingredients you asked for!”

Shit, he can’t afford to think about that right now. Katsuki steels himself. Izuku isn’t the only
one he should be making things up to. He’s gotta blow Midoriya Inko’s mind with dinner
tonight. Even if she seems happy just to be there. She sits at the kitchen table and watches
him work, gushing over Katsuki’s knife technique and obvious skill.

“Oh, I should have taught you how to cook,” Inko bemoans, cupping a round cheek in her
hand as she pouts at Izuku. “I always meant to and never did and now—” The waterworks are
instant and overwhelming. “Now you’re all grown up.”

“Mom! Don’t cry!” Izuku exclaims. He snatches up a box of kleenex from the kitchen
counter and rushes over to her.

“Eighteen years old,” she sobs, voice breaking. Izuku presses tissues into her face and she
blows her nose. “My baby.”

“ Mom ,” Izuku says, sounding embarrassed.

Katsuki smirks as he slices the scallops to garnish.

“I tried teachin’ him how to cook, Auntie,” he offers, giving Izuku a significant look. “He’s
hopeless.”

Izuku’s scoff is clearly offended, but Inko breaks into a watery laugh.

“Oh, you never told me that, Izuku,” she sniffles, dabbing her eyes with her tissue.

“He begged me to,” Katsuki adds and Izuku gasps.

“I did not beg!” he protests. He looks at his mom imploringly. “I asked nicely.”

That’s one way of putting it. Katsuki distinctly remembers how Izuku had looked when he’d
asked: so coy and playful.
“Little shit was just trying to trick me into making him katsudon,” Katsuki says. Inko laughs.
“Sorry. I meant. Uh. Turd.”

Izuku gives him an oh you sort of expression. Inko waves her hand dismissively.

“Well, that does sound like him,” she says. She yanks Izuku down, pinching his cheek and
Izuku whines. “I hope you aren’t letting Katsuki-kun cook for you everyday, Izuku. You’re an
adult now. You should be able to take care of yourself!”

“Mom!” Izuku cries, offended and Katsuki snorts. “I— I cook!”

Katsuki narrows his eyes skeptically. Izuku gives him a hard look, mouthing it’s my birthday.
Katsuki is warm with amusement.

“He helps out,” Katsuki allows. With the dishes, he doesn’t add.

“Oh,” Inko says, patting Izuku’s pinched cheek. “That’s my baby. So helpful.”

Izuku flushes, mouth squirming with embarrassment, and god Katsuki loves him. It hurts to
think he could have had this ages ago. This could have been every year, a tradition between
the three of them. The pictures on the walls could have had a decade’s worth of Katsuki-and-
Izuku. Instead Katsuki had wasted it, thrown it all away because of his own bullshit
insecurities. His eyes burn, but he blinks it down harshly. No, he can’t fucking cry too. These
goddamn weepy Midoriyas must be getting to him.

Inko brings out a little white cake after dinner and they sing to him quietly. He’ll get another,
much bigger one tomorrow, but Katsuki doesn’t trust Kaminari not to shove Izuku’s face into
it so it’s best he gets one now, just in case. Izuku blows out the candles the second song ends
and Inko claps. Katsuki scowls.

“You didn’t even make a wish!” Katsuki protests.

Izuku jolts in surprise. He laughs a little, scratching the back of his head.

“I— I already had a wish in mind,” he says, evasively.

Izuku opens his gift from his mom, which turns out to be a wad of cash and a new All Might
poster. He gushes over it excitedly— something about it going great with the poster Nighteye
had left him years ago. Katsuki fidgets uncomfortably.

“You’ll get my gift tomorrow,” he promises. Gifts, he should add, because he thinks the many
plans he’s arranged should count for something. Izuku smiles at him fondly.

“Kacchan didn’t have to get me anything at all,” he assures, reaching over and squeezing his
hand.

“Fuck off, of course I did,” Katsuki says, dismissively. He turns his palm up so Izuku can
tangle their fingers together. “Just— you’ll see.”
Izuku’s eyes glimmer with something strange and unreadable. Inko glances between the two
of them curiously.

Izuku heads to his room to make space on his wall for his new poster and Katsuki starts on
the dishes. He needs to remember to pack lunch for tomorrow too. Inko wanders over to him,
touching his elbow lightly.

“Thank you,” she says, soft and watery-eyed. She looks so much like Izuku in this moment
that Katsuki’s heart breaks. “You make my son really happy.”

Oh. Right. Fuck, it hits Katsuki where it hurts. Katsuki swallows thickly as he looks down at
her.

“Yeah,” he says, gruffly. “Bout time I started doin’ that.”

She pats his arm consolingly.

“You’re still only a boy, Katsuki-kun,” she says. “And I’m… proud at how much you’ve
grown.”

Katsuki’s face crumples. The tears are lava-hot and embarrassing, and even though his hands
are wet, when she pulls him down for a hug he embraces her. It’s… nice. Comforting even.
He’d fucked up for so many years, but somehow he still has a home here. Izuku’s footsteps
come bounding down the stairs.

“Kacchan I need you, I can’t reach—” He cuts off suddenly. “Mom! You made him cry?!”

Katsuki draws back and Izuku is quick to wedge himself between them. He takes Katsuki’s
face in his hands, rubbing away the tears with his thumbs and tutting.

“Now I’m gonna cry,” Izuku complains, voice wobbling, and Katsuki laughs. He lets Izuku
dote on him until Inko pads over with the tissue box in hand. She smiles at them knowingly,
something almost secretive in her gaze.

Katsuki packs lunch for tomorrow, thanks Inko for her hospitality, and then follows Izuku to
his room. God, the memories just keep flooding back. Katsuki remembers All Might coloring
books spread out across the floor, the hard-plastic action figures they’d smash together as
they scream-laughed, the same glow-in-the dark All Might heads are still stuck to the ceiling.
The mattress is different, but he’s slept in here with Izuku before as children. Ugh. You were
only a boy, Inko had said, but they could have been boys together. Fuck, Katsuki is sniffling
again before he can stop himself.

“Hey, hey,” Izuku whispers, reclining on the bed and beckoning to him. “Come here.”

Katsuki lets himself be drawn into Izuku’s arms. They lay on their sides, facing one another,
and curled up so close that he can feel Izuku’s curls tickling his forehead. Izuku leans over
and kisses Katsuki’s tear-damp cheek.

You make my son really happy. It’s true, isn’t it? Why isn’t that enough? Izuku pets his hair,
continuing to pepper Katsuki's face with kisses.
“Talk to me,” he says, soft against his skin. “What’s wrong?”

Right. Open communication or whatever. Katsuki makes a choked sound.

“I don’t— I don’t wanna do this shit on your birthday,” he admits, looking down at their
hands clasped between them.

Izuku hums. He retreats to level Katsuki with a look.

“Well, I do,” Izuku says, a note of tease in his voice. “And it’s my birthday. So my birthday,
my rules.”

Katsuki snorts. Impossible, ridiculous nerd. Katsuki loves him so much that he feels close to
bursting with it.

“We need to talk about these things,” Izuku reminds him. He scratches the back of Katsuki’s
head with his free hand “For our therapy. Remember?”

Katsuki nods shallowly and swallows.

“I dunno,” Katsuki says, struggling. He clutches their clasped hands to his chest and winces.
“Just being back here. It’s bringing up… old shit. And seeing pictures of you when you were
young—” He shakes his head. “I dunno. I don’t— I don’t ever wanna make you feel the way
I used to. I never wanna— I never wanna hurt you again.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku presses. He draws back a little, framing Katsuki’s face in his hands, tilting
Katsuki until he meets his gaze. “Kacchan, I know you don’t. I know you.”

Katsuki flinches like he’s been struck. That’s the whole problem isn’t it? Izuku knows all of
him. Knows every awful thing he’s ever done, all of the cruelty Katsuki is capable of. Sure,
he’s trying to change now, but that didn’t erase the decade of pain Katsuki had inflicted upon
him. He shakes his head again. His heart is squeezed in a thorny fist; a hard lump stuck in his
throat.

“I know it’s hard,” Izuku whispers. “And I know it’s… painful. But if this is still bothering
you, then I need to know about it. Because I worry about you.” He strokes Katsuki’s cheeks
with the rough pads of his thumbs. “Your pain is my pain. Your problems are my problems. I
can’t be happy until I know you’re happy too.”

He’s almost too beautiful to look at. His mossy green eyes are so open and sincere. Katsuki
feels slightly dizzy looking at him. He nods. He takes three purposeful breaths before
continuing.

“It hurts,” Katsuki croaks, and oh god he’s croaking. “Knowing what I did to you. And I can’t
—I can’t erase it. I can’t make it better.”

“But you have,” Izuku says, squeezing his face just hard enough to hurt. “You have made it
better.”

“Izuku—”
“No, listen to me,” Izuku presses on. “Even before all of this— before the war and before we
became… close. You made me happy. Competing with you, training with you— it was more
than I ever dreamt possible. I felt so lucky just to even talk to you— it was everything to
me.”

Katsuki scoffs again, wetly.

“And you apologized,” Izuku continues, shaking his head slightly. “But I’d already forgiven
you. Because I knew. I’d always been watching you, been so in awe of you— of course I
noticed you changing. Learning, growing stronger. Becoming the man I always knew you
could be. And you were so—” Izuku cuts himself off with a dry little laugh. “You were so
you. Helpful, brilliant, blunt, and confident— it was enough for me just to know I was right
to have believed in you all along.”

Izuku leans in close, pressing a long, sweet kiss to the center of Katsuki’s forehead.

“I need you to understand,” Izuku says, the words brushing against Katsuki’s skin. “It doesn’t
hurt me anymore. Fuck, Kacchan, after all the shit we’ve been through—” He shakes his
head, nose brushing against his brow. “So much worse stuff has happened to me since then
that it feels like a lifetime ago. And I know you’re not that person anymore.”

He kisses Katsuki’s temple, then his cheekbone. He winds an arm around Katsuki’s neck as
he presses their foreheads together.

“But it does hurt to think you can’t forgive yourself for it,” Izuku says, softly.

“Zu.”

“Please, just let me—” Izuku’s face scrunches up as he goes on. “I—I need this from you.
Kacchan, you promised me. You promised to give me whatever I needed and I… I really
need this. I need to know you can let it go.” Tears trail down Izuku’s cheeks and he sobs.
“Kacchan, I’m scared.”

A flash of horror. Katsuki trembles.

“Scared?” Katsuki repeats. Izuku nods, face screwing up in agony.

“This.” Izuku waves a hand between their chests. “What we have… if it’s all just based on—
on guilt because you think you owe me—”

“No,” Katsuki says, quickly. He sits up a little, leaning over and cupping Izuku’s jaw in his
hand. Izuku chokes, smearing away his tears with the heel of his palm. “No, Zu. It’s not just
that.”

Izuku makes a soft sound of disbelief. He shakes his head and sniffles.

“Kacchan, I need this from you,” he whispers. He moves to grip the front of Katsuki’s shirt
so tightly that the collar digs into the back of Katsuki’s throat. “I need to know you can let
this go. I need you to forgive yourself so I know— I know—”
Strained, pained, hitched little noises escape Izuku as he struggles. He swallows thickly, his
eyes squeezed shut. Katsuki winds an arm around him, drawing Izuku close and burying his
face in the crook of his shoulder.

“I need to know this is what you want,” Izuku manages eventually. Tears seep into Katsuki’s
shirt. “Not just what you think you owe me.”

They’re both breathing hard. Katsuki is crying too and god it fucking stings. He’d never even
considered that his guilt could somehow hurt Izuku. Izuku’s arms are locked around his neck,
their legs entwined. They clutch each other so tightly Katsuki struggles to remember where
he ends and Izuku begins.

“Of course,” Katsuki wheezes, forcing the words out as best he can. “Of course it’s what I
want, Zu. Don’t you see that I… that’s why it hurts so much. Because I wanna have this life
with you and make you happy and I— I know I don’t really deserve it after what I’ve done.”

“Don’t say that!” Izuku snaps. He draws back, evergreen eyes fire-bright and fierce. His hand
tightens in the front of Katsuki’s shirt. He shakes his head over and over again, looking
horrified. “How can you say that? Of course you deserve it. Kacchan. After everything
you’ve done for me— after everything you’ve suffered because of me—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Katsuki cuts him off. He pets Izuku’s hair, trying to soothe him. “I’d do it
again.”

“Well so would I,” Izuku shoots back, uncharacteristically harsh. Katsuki’s breath catches at
his intensity. “Yeah, getting bullied sucked, and losing you was awful, but I wouldn’t change
anything if it meant I got to keep what we have now. I’d do it all over again. I’d do it a
hundred times over. I’d choose you, Kacchan. And I’ll choose you every time.”

Katsuki is shaking. Too-hot tears are trailing down his cheeks. He sobs, hunching over and
head knocking into Izuku’s collarbone. He clings to Izuku like he’s the only thing holding
him together. Izuku strokes his back with one hand, the other still fisted in the front of his
shirt.

“That’s ridiculous,” Katsuki chokes.

“Not to me,” Izuku says, firmly. He turns his face, kissing Katsuki’s tear-damp cheeks.
“You’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it.”

They weep and tremble in each other’s arms. Katsuki feels Izuku’s tears as he presses kisses
along the slope of his shoulder, just under his ear, wherever his mouth can reach. Izuku only
draws away to retrieve tissues from his nightstand. His face is a fucking mess, but he dabs at
Katsuki’s tears first. God, it feels like Katsuki’s chest has been torn through again, leaving his
vulnerable heart open and exposed and twitching in the cold air.

“What if I can’t do it?” Katsuki asks, quietly.

“Kacchan can do anything,” Izuku answers easily. He wads up their tissues and tosses them
into the waste bin in the corner. He scooches in close again, running his hand up and down
Katsuki’s back in long, smooth strokes. “Kacchan always does what he sets his mind to.”

Katsuki snuggles into Izuku, hiding himself in the crook of his throat. He lets himself be
soothed by the weight of Izuku wrapped around him: the strength of his body, the rhythm of
his heart pounding through his flesh, the hush of Izuku’s breath over the shell of his ear. Izuku
. His home. His love. His heart. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut.

“I just— I just wish I’d been there for you sooner,” Katsuki admits, hoarsely. “When you
were— young. Friendless. Alone. And instead of being there for you I was making shit
worse.”

Izuku hums like he understands. He keeps trailing soothing circles along the broad span of
Katsuki’s shoulders.

“You were there when I needed you most,” Izuku counters. “Saving All Might, saving me
from myself when I ran away from UA. And you’ve been there for me every single day since
the war ended. That’s when I really needed you. I don’t care about what happened when we
were kids.”

Izuku’s nails drag up the nape of Katsuki’s neck and start to scritch his scalp.

“You’re here for me now,” Izuku adds softly. “And you’ll be there for me for the rest of our
lives. Right?”

Katsuki nods hastily.

“That’s all that matters to me,” Izuku assures. He kisses his cheek lovingly. “That’s all I
need.”

Katsuki sniffles. There’s only what we can do now. He nods again.

“Always gonna be there, Zu,” Katsuki promises. “Always.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Izuku whispers. He gives Katsuki a nice squeeze. “Or I’ll break your
pinkies, remember?”

That steals a laugh out of Katsuki. Watery and messy and gross. Izuku giggles too and god
Katsuki fucking loves him. It feels bigger than his body, big enough to fill the whole room.
Katsuki locks his arms around Izuku, crushing him in his embrace.

“I’m gonna try,” Katsuki declares. “I’ll try to— to let it go. For you.”

Izuku hums. They’re wound so tightly around one another that it’s hard to breathe, hard to
remember whose limbs are whose.

“Thank you,” he says, soft.

Katsuki can only nod. And let himself be held.

Katsuki feels like he wakes up in a new reality. Something dense and heavy in his chest has
softened. Something oppressive weighing on his soul has lifted. Everything is different now
somehow. Katsuki can sense it like the shift in the air as the seasons change. There’s a new
crispness to reality, a newfound sense of being truly grounded and—and safe. It’s like his
spirit has been thoroughly rinsed of something dreadful and poisonous and Katsuki is just
so… light. Free.

Izuku is laying in the cradle of his arms, fast asleep; Katsuki gazes at him adoringly. He sits
up a little, carding a hand through Izuku’s sleep-mussed hair. Izuku makes a soft snuffling
noise and Katsuki breaks into a grin. God, he’s fucking perfect. Katsuki feels a rush of
butterflies just looking at him.

Katsuki dips in low, first kissing Izuku’s cheekbone, then his temple, and his eyelid. Izuku
squirms underneath him, making disgruntled sleepy sounds.

“K’chn,” he grumbles, turning away. “Not yet.”

Katsuki hums, low and amused. I love you, he thinks. The words come so easily that
Katsuki’s mouth opens to say them against his will. He shakes himself out of it quickly,
settling for kissing his cheek again instead.

“Five more minutes,” he allows, softly.

He draws back, shuffling to crawl out of bed and start on breakfast, but Izuku’s hand shoots
out, seizing onto the front of his shirt with terrifying force. Katsuki chuffs. “ Zu .”

“Five more minutes with you,” Izuku corrects.

Clingy. Katsuki relishes it. It hits differently now. The emotional catharsis of last night was so
intense that Katsuki still feels somewhat shaky with it, but he’s… happy. Truly happy.
Buoyant and radiant and relaxed. Izuku’s words last night come rushing back to him:
Kacchan can do anything; I choose you; you’re worth it, you’ve always been worth it.
Katsuki can’t find it within him to doubt his sincerity. How can he? Doesn’t he owe it to
Izuku to trust him?

Katsuki resumes cradling him, drinking in the sight of Izuku so serene and at peace. He looks
angelic awash in the golden morning light. Katsuki soaks in every detail: the way the light
catches in the emerald of his hair, the red indents in Izuku’s face where he’s slept pressed up
against Katsuki’s chest, the slight part of his perfectly plush lips. Katsuki doesn’t think
there’s ever been a creature on this earth more beautiful than Izuku. He strokes the soft curve
of Izuku’s cheek with the back of one knuckle and Izuku hums, content.
Katsuki will never stop being grateful for slow, sleepy mornings like these. Each one is a
hard won gift; Katsuki would be a fool if he didn’t savor them.

Katsuki leans in then, pressing his mouth to that soft cheek gently. Izuku sighs. Katsuki
thumbs at his jaw, tilting Izuku’s chin, preparing to give the other side of his face the same
attention and— and—

It’s an accident.

Izuku’s eyes are still closed. He’s half asleep as he turns into it. Katsuki is sure he only meant
to give Katsuki’s cheek a kiss of his own but instead— instead—

Their lips glide past one another.

Izuku’s breath hitches.

Oh.

It’s barely a kiss. Nothing more than the soft brush of mouths, a ghost of a kiss, a tease.
Shooting stars streak behind Katsuki’s eyes anyway. Tingles ripple over his skin. Izuku.
Izuku’s breath shudders out of him, Katsuki feels him tense in his arms, but Izuku… tips his
face into it. Their noses brush. His lips are slightly parted. An ask. A wordless offer.

Katsuki can’t resist.

Katsuki kisses his mouth, purposefully this time, and Izuku makes a soft sound of surprise.
There’s a zing of fear; an electric heartbeat where Katsuki wonders if he’s misinterpreted—
but then Izuku cups Katsuki’s jaw in his hand and oh fuck he’s kissing him back. It hits
Katsuki like a shock of ice water, thrumming through his blood and flooding his limbs with
bright tingling light. Izuku is kissing him; Izuku is kissing him back. The soft, sweet press of
Izuku’s lips feels entirely different against his own and something warm and wonderful
blooms in Katsuki’s chest with it. Izuku.

He turns his head to kiss Izuku deeper, morning breath be fucking damned, and Izuku honest-
to-god whimpers into it. The rush of arousal leaves Katsuki dizzy. Fuck, it just feels so right.
Like their mouths were made to fit together this way, like they were two halves of a whole
that were always ready to click into place.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers between kisses. “Kacchan.”

Katsuki doesn’t need to hear it. Katsuki kisses him again unthinkingly, his desire burned too
deeply into him to do anything else. Katsuki cradles the back of his head as they switch sides,
and the gentle give of Izuku’s mouth is everything Katsuki dreamed it’d be. Izuku makes
such sweet little sounds as their lips smack and fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s so vocal, so responsive.
Katsuki needs an entire symphony of Izuku’s soft sighs and needy little noises. Katsuki props
himself up with one elbow, his free hand gripping Izuku’s fluffy curls as he kisses him again,
determined to steal another moan from him, and is rewarded with a high whine that goes
straight to his cock. Izuku winds an arm around his neck, keening into it, and trying to press
their bodies as close together as possible.
“Kacchan,” Izuku sighs.

Fuck, Katsuki can’t stop now that he’s started. He’s craved Izuku for too long, he’s needed
this too desperately. He feels like parched earth greedily soaking in rainwater after a drought.
Like he’s basking in sunlight after an endless night. Izuku shuffles underneath him, wrapping
one leg around him and slotting the other between Katsuki’s thighs. Katsuki gasps. He breaks
away with a wet pop. Fuck! There, right there! Izuku seeks his mouth again insistently,
accidentally rocking underneath him as he does and god the friction is so fucking good.
Katsuki is lightheaded. If this is a dream he never, ever wants to fucking wake up. He’s so—
he can’t—

“Kacchan, please,” he begs, when Katsuki forgets to kiss him back. One hand has slipped
under Katsuki’s shirt, his nails scraping along Katsuki’s shoulder blades. The other is in his
hair and keeping him close. “Please don’t stop.”

Katsuki can barely breathe. He doesn’t need to breathe, he needs Izuku . Katsuki kisses him
hungrily and Izuku groans into it. Some small part of his brain registers that they’re moving
fast, but it feels so right. There’s no awkwardness, no unfamiliarity. Their bodies already
know each other. They’ve already held, and kissed, and loved each other. It’s an intimacy
they’ve been ready for. Kissing Izuku now with heat and greed is only natural, it’s only what
he’s been meant to do all along. Izuku clings to him, his thick, delicious thigh grinding up
against Katsuki’s crotch and Katsuki groans low in his throat.

“Zu,” he says, a warning.

“Sorry,” Izuku whispers back, stilling underneath him, and Katsuki can’t stand it. He kisses
Izuku hard enough to bruise.

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Katsuki snarls into his mouth. His hand slips underneath Izuku’s
body, palm pressing flat to the small of his back and adjusting him until their clothed cocks
are aligned. “Don't you dare be sorry for any of this.”

Izuku’s responding cry is sweet, and broken, and fuck Katsuki is already close. Their making
out has no finesse to it now: it’s all hunger and need and insistence. Slick with spit and
desperate. Izuku writhes underneath him, trying to get a rhythm going and Katsuki spreads
his legs. Ah! Katsuki shudders as Izuku grinds up on him. There. God, it feels so fucking
good. Katsuki makes an encouraging noise and rocks into Izuku eagerly and fuck yes, yes,
yes.

It only takes another moment. Katsuki is so pent up that his orgasm hits him like a bullet
train, too fast to have even seen it coming. His vision flashes white; every muscle in his body
tenses as he gasps. His hand fists in the sheets above Izuku’s head hard as waves of pleasure
crash over him. Katsuki shivers through it.

“ Fuck ,” Katsuki says, hushed. Masturbation ain’t shit compared to this. “Shit, Izuku.”

Izuku freezes beneath him. His eyelashes are damp as he blinks up at Katsuki. Izuku first
glances at his face, then to the wet spot seeping through Katsuki’s boxers.
“Did you—” Izuku is breathless. “Did you just—”

Fuck, the humiliation strikes Katsuki hot and fast. Of course he’d finally make out with the
love of his life only to immediately cum in his pants like a fucking loser. Katsuki cringes at
himself.

“… yeah,” he gruffs out.

Izuku makes a strange, hitched sound. He chokes. And then throws his head back, laughing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki snaps. The embarrassment burns brightest in his cheeks and the
tips of his ears.

“No! No, I’m sorry!” Izuku cries. He’s tearing up, covering his mouth with a hand like he
means to smother his giggles. “I’m not— I’m not laughing at you!”

“Coulda fooled me!” Katsuki shouts.

Izuku coos, touching Katsuki’s face tenderly as he catches his breath. He dabs at his eyes
with the back of his hand. His grin is too beautiful and jubilant to be mad at for long. Katsuki
struggles to keep scowling.

“I was just— I was just so worried you wouldn’t be able to get it up for me,” Izuku explains,
heaving a sigh of relief.

Tire tracks screech to a halt in Katsuki’s mind. He jolts.

“What?”

Izuku is still giggling, caressing his cheek and pulling him down for a kiss. Sweet and loving
and perfect. Katsuki is only deterred for a moment.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki demands, breaking away with a smacking
sound. “You thought my dick was broken?”

“No! Not you! Me!” Izuku clarifies, patting himself as if to demonstrate. “I thought you
wouldn’t— you know— for me.”

Katsuki stares at him like he’s never seen him before in his life.

“The fuck do mean ‘for you’?” he asks, low and dangerous.

“Oh, Kacchan,” Izuku says, fondly. His smile is somewhat sad. “I… I know I’m plain.”

“ Plain?!”

Izuku hushes him, clamping a hand over Katsuki’s mouth; Katsuki shakes him off.

“Who fucking told you that?” Katsuki demands. He burns with righteous fury. Izuku? Plain?
He can’t fucking believe what he’s hearing right now. “Who fucking said you were plain?”
“Kacchan, keep your voice down!”

“Give me names,” Katsuki seethes, looming over him. “All of them, Izuku. Who told you
that?”

Izuku shrugs half-heartedly.

“No one… A lot of people. It doesn’t matter,” Izuku says, shaking his head.

Katsuki seizes his face with one hand, forcing Izuku to look at him head on.

“They’re full of shit,” Katsuki hisses. “You’re perfect, alright? You’re—“ Stunning,
breathtaking, gorgeous, ethereal. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Izuku’s breath stutters. He blinks several times, searching Katsuki’s face for a quiet moment.

“Really?” he asks, soft.

Katsuki can’t stand the glimmer of doubt in Izuku’s gaze. He hates this, he hates that Izuku
doesn’t know. Katsuki kisses him then, mean and harsh like he can sear the certainty of his
affection into Izuku with his lips, and Izuku moans into it.

“So beautiful,” Katsuki rasps, words smeared against Izuku’s panting mouth. “Fucking
gorgeous. You hear me? You’re gorgeous.”

Izuku makes a sweet, keening sound—and then there’s a sharp knock at the door.

“Izuku?” Inko calls. “Izuku, is everything alright? I heard shouting.”

Fuck! They spring apart like they’ve been electrocuted. Katsuki almost rolls off the bed
entirely in his haste to scramble away and Izuku sits up, head snapping toward the door.
Thank god it’s still shut.

“We’re fine!” Izuku calls, voice damningly shrill. He nudges Katsuki with his knee.

“Sorry, Auntie,” he says. Fuck, how much had she heard? Goddamn Izuku for being so vocal
in bed. His mind reels for an excuse. “Just—just a spider.”

Izuku brightens. “A really big one!”

“Oh,” Inko says, sounding a little taken aback. “I… I suppose I’ll have to spray the house
again.”

Inko murmurs to herself some more about bug spray before her footsteps disapear the
stairwell. Izuku and Katsuki slump over in relief in tandem. That was close.

There’s a beat of perfect silence. Just their soft panting and the whirl of the air conditioner.
Izuku shoots Katsuki a shy glance. Gorgeous was an understatement. Izuku looks ethereal:
cheeks rosy, his lips kiss-flushed, and wild hair mussed. Katsuki suddenly doesn’t know how
he’s resisted him for so long. He crawls back over to him and Izuku’s eyes sparkle. Katsuki
 sees his toes wiggle, watches him lick his lips in anticipation. Katsuki leans in and kisses him
and fuck, it feels so good. Izuku was made to be kissed. Katsuki has been the dumbest
motherfucker alive for withholding it from him for so long. He sits on his knees, framing
Izuku’s perfect face in his hands.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says, the words brushing against his lips. Katsuki can feel it when
Izuku smiles.

“Morning,” Izuku echoes. He pecks Katsuki’s lips gently. “Good morning.” Another kiss,
fiercer. He sits up a little straighter, arms locking around Katsuki’s neck. “Good morning,
great morning, best morning.”

He kisses him between each phrase. Katsuki breaks away to laugh.

“Best morning?” he asks.

Izuku nods fervently.

“This is the best birthday ever,” he adds. Katsuki is still laughing as Izuku smothers his face
in kisses.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Katsuki says. Fuck, he sort of regrets all the plans has he made
for today. Is this really all he had to do? Izuku moans softly into their next kiss and
goddamnit, he’s gotta stop doing that, his mom could come back at any moment. “Zu.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku returns, kissing him soft and slow. Izuku inhales shakily. He swallows.
“Kacchan, you— you made my wish come true.”

Katsuki stares at him. Izuku’s eyes are dazzling, lips flushed and shiny, cheeks flooded with a
rosy glow.

In-love sparkle, Katsuki thinks. Just like Izuku had said all the way back in the hospital.
There’s a swoop in Katsuki’s gut. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. The guilt tries to
slither up his throat, but it’s all too easy to ignore when Izuku smiles at him like that. So
sweet and radiant. He’s happy. And how can Katsuki deny him that? Katsuki draws him
close, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m gonna be worthy of you,” he promises, softly.

“Kacchan,” Izuku scolds him gently. He cards a hand through Katsuki’s hair. “You already
are.”

Chapter End Notes

hehe this is probably where the fic COULD end?? if you want it too?? but i like to let
them bask in their happily ever after for a little bit so we're gonna keep going<3<3 it's
all fluff and smut from here folks!! and we still got a party to go to :)

thank you so so SO much for your comments they really keep me inspired to keep
going!! i hope it was worth the wait <3<3 please please leave a comment and tell me
what you think!!

come say hi to me at gabbkdk on twitter or bakudekublogblog on tumblr !! love you

<3<3
 the greatest first date of all time (part one)
Chapter Notes

warning for light exhibitionism and mild food play

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Getting out of bed requires Herculean effort, but the cum drying in Katsuki’s boxers all but
demands it. Izuku complains and clings to him anyway, winding his arms around Katsuki’s
neck and trying to drag him back down onto the mattress. Katsuki hunches over him,
snorting.

“Really?” Katsuki deadpans.

“Don’t leave me,” Izuku demands, surging up for a kiss.

“Zu,” Katsuki says, grinning despite himself. He winds his arms around him then, kissing
Izuku’s twice and murmuring into his mouth, “I gotta shower.”

Izuku hums, but his grip only tightens. “Lemme shower with you.”

Katsuki scoffs, reeling back and leveling him with a hard look.

“We’re not showering together while your mom’s in the house,” Katsuki says, firmly. Izuku’s
whine is loud and pathetic. “Don’t be a brat.”

“But it’s my birthday,” Izuku protests softly.

Katsuki can’t believe he has to fight Izuku on this. Doesn’t he have any shame? Katsuki can’t
help smirking. He cards a hand through Izuku’s wild curls and Izuku keens into his touch,
making a soft, pleased noise.

“You want it that bad?” Katsuki asks, low and sultry. Izuku nods eagerly and Katsuki snorts,
flicking his forehead. “Then you can wait for it.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku says it like he’s broken his heart.

Katsuki swoops in and kisses Izuku’s cheek once, twice— and then Izuku is turning into it
greedily. And fuck, it’s every bit as good as it was the first time. Breathtaking, wonderful,
flooding Katsuki’s body with brilliant light. Izuku’s pleased hum in response is even better.
God, pulling away from him is absolute agony, every cell in Katsuki’s body screams at him
not to, but he does. Izuku blinks up at him, mouth-flushed and panting softly, and in an
instant Katsuki is diving in for more. Izuku’s giggles are smothered and breathless.
“Kacchan!” he cries. “I thought you were showering!”

“I am,” Katsuki says firmly, leaving him with one last kiss. “I’m showering right now.”

But then they’re kissing again like their mouths are magnetized and fuck, Katsuki seriously
regrets his extravagant plans for today. They could’ve spent all day like this: entwined in
each other’s arms, kissing and exploring each other. Katsuki’s spent dick is already twitching
again in interest. God, no he can’t. Katsuki breaks away again, breathing hard, and Izuku
peppers kisses all over his face.

“Here,” Izuku says. He releases him momentarily, diving for the nightstand and procures a
pack of baby-wipes from the drawer. “Clean yourself with these.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes at him. “Baby wipes? Really?”

Izuku flushes. “Don’t make fun of me! They’re useful!”

Katsuki snorts, but Izuku isn’t wrong. They’re softer than the tissues Katsuki would have
used anyway. He cleans himself quickly, disposing the used wipes in the trashcan in the
corner. Izuku watches the entire time with a wild sort of greed, making a sound of
appreciation when Katsuki bends over to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers from his overnight
bag. Katsuki shoots him a stern look.

“Perv,” he accuses.

Izuku’s giggle is nervous and precious. He’s so lovely when he blushes. Katsuki wishes he
could say the same for himself. He feels like a sunburned tomato as he wiggles into fresh
boxers. He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s changed. Much better. Now he can get their day
started. God knows they’ll have to hurry to get to everything Katsuki has planned today. And
there’s still breakfast to worry about.

But then Izuku’s sweet voice calls to him.

“Kacchan?”

Oh. Katsuki breaks into goosebumps. Something about his tone—so soft and breathy—
sounding just like he did when they were making out. Katsuki’s cock stirs in his boxers. No,
no, no they have fucking plans today. Don’t get distracted, don't —

He glances over anyway and oh god. Izuku is crawling on his hands and knees toward him,
pupils blown out and breathing hard, his hips swaying as he moves.

“Kacchan,” he says again, a call not an ask. His hands sink into the mattress one after the
other as he prowls toward him.

Fuck. Katsuki’s mouth is dry. He must look fucking ridiculous: beet red and gaping, frozen in
place like a man fucking hypnotized as Izuku approaches. Izuku sits on his knees on the bed,
reaching for him— he hooks a finger inside the waistband of Katsuki’s boxers and tugs him
forward. Oh god.
“Zu—”

But his protest is weak, even to his own ears. Izuku’s hands are flat on his body, nosing at the
hem of Katsuki’s shirt and pushing it up, up until Katsuki’s stomach is exposed and Izuku is
free to ghost kisses along the lines of his abs.

“Come back to bed,” Izuku murmurs against his skin.

Katsuki shudders. Izuku’s breath is so warm as it rushes over him. Katsuki cups the back of
Izuku’s head, carding his fingers through his curls. Izuku’s hands creep up the hem of
Katsuki’s skull-tee, drawing it up even further and nipping at the fleshy underside of his pec.
Katsuki grips his hair hard and Izuku sighs like it pleases him.

“I should still shower,” Katsuki says, too hoarsely to be believed. “I gotta start breakfast.”

“Mmm,” Izuku’s hum buzzes through Katsuki’s flesh and fuck Katsuki’s nipples harden. He
didn’t even know his chest was sensitive like that. Izuku glances up at him, eyes dark and
sultry, pupils wide enough to swallow Katsuki whole. “Come back to bed.”

Fuck! What the hell? Izuku’s big hands frame Katsuki’s waist, keeping him in place as he
mouths kisses along his chest. Katsuki shivers as his tongue sweeps over his nipple. How is
he supposed to resist him? No, no they can’t do this. Katsuki has a plan. He has a whole
fucking itinerary to get through before the party tonight. He can’t resist touching him though.
Katsuki’s hand wanders down the warm expanse of Izuku’s back and god he’s so fit, he’s
thick with muscle and strong and— and—

And his .

It hits him then. It’s like a gong being struck, reverberating through him with sudden clarity.
Izuku is his . Really his. Not just Katsuki’s to take care of, but his to have . That’s what this
means, right? This is Izuku giving himself to Katsuki. Katsuki’s desire rises within him like a
churning, ravenous tide. His hand slides under Izuku’s jawline, tilting his face up and getting
a good look at what he’s being offered. Izuku is fucking gorgeous like this: panting softly,
hair mussed, still on his knees, and gaze almost pleading.

Mine, Katsuki thinks, wonderingly. Mine, mine, all mine. He thumbs at the line of Izuku’s
jaw, tracing in toward his chin, and Izuku chases it, catching the digit in an open-mouthed
kiss.

God. Katsuki never stood a chance.

He dives in then, kissing Izuku hungry and harsh. Kissing him like he means to claim him.
As if he can seal them together forever if he just kisses hard enough. Izuku’s responding
moan is all-too pleased. He winds his arms around Katsuki, clawing at his back, and Katsuki
is dizzy again immediately.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” he declares and Izuku giggles.

“I think you like it,” he returns, soft and coy.

God fucking help him he does. Katsuki catches Izuku’s bottom lip between his teeth and
sucks, groaning when Izuku whimpers into it. Izuku’s hands are everywhere— wandering
aimlessly over Katsuki’s broad shoulders, following the ridges of his abs and cupping a pec
— Katsuki gasps when his thumb rolls over a nipple.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, he sits on his haunches and starts scooting back on the bed, hand
fisted in Katsuki’s shirt to drag him along with him. Katsuki is quick to chase after, kissing
him all the while. Izuku is reclining against the headboard with Katsuki hovering over him
when he whispers, “Kacchan, touch me.”

Right, what the fuck has Katsuki been doing? It’s Izuku’s birthday weekend and he hasn’t
gotten off yet. A crime. A fucking disgrace. Katsuki props himself up on one elbow, running
a hand down the generous swell of Izuku’s chest, fingers skittering over his abdominals. He
hesitates at the waistband of his boxers. A line they’ve never crossed. Is he— Is he really
allowed—?

“Kacchan, please,” Izuku whispers. His hand is in Katsuki’s hair now, nails scraping against
his scalp in a way that sends delicious tingles rushing down his spine. “Please.”

Fuck it. Katsuki palms Izuku’s cock through his boxers and Izuku bucks into it, gasping loud
and sharp. Katsuki kisses him quiet.

“Shhh, easy baby, easy,” Katsuki says. The last fucking thing they need is his mom coming
back up here. Izuku grinds into his palm and Katsuki trails kisses down the line of his throat.
“Lemme take care of you.”

Izuku’s clothed cock is hot and already rock hard. He whimpers and god, he sounds so
fucking good. So sweet, so needy. Izuku rocks his hips into Katsuki’s palm.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “I need— I need—”

“Tell me,” Katsuki breathes, heart jackrabbiting in his chest and pulse thundering in his ears.
“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

Izuku lifts his hips, shimmying as he tries to wiggle out of his boxers. Katsuki yanks them
down and— and oh fuck. Of course he’s seen Izuku’s cock before, but never aroused like
this. The head is an angry red and already dribbling pre-cum profusely. It’s a bit shorter than
his own, but impressively thick and sitting pretty in a thatch of dark curls. It twitches as it’s
exposed to the cold air, a pulse of pre-cum drooling down the shaft. God Katsuki’s mouth
waters at the sight of him.

“Look at you,” Katsuki whispers reverently, as he takes a moment to drink it in. He feels a
powerful surge of possessiveness as he realizes that this is his fault. Katsuki did this to him.
“I’ve barely touched you.”

“Kacchan, please,” Izuku whispers, hand over his mouth and breathing hard. “I need you.”

Right. And Katsuki has sworn to be whatever Izuku needs, whenever he needs it. Katsuki
trembles as he licks his palm. Fuck, he’s never done this to anyone but himself and wants it to
be so, so fucking good. He wants to blow Izuku’s fucking mind with how good this is.

Katsuki takes a steadying breath. He wraps a hand around Izuku’s cock and god he’s
scorching hot. Izuku bucks into it, a strangled sound escaping him. Fuck, the sounds he
makes. Katsuki is already hard again, but he ignores it. This is about Izuku, not him. Katsuki
thumbs at the head, smearing pre-cum down Izuku’s shaft as he pumps him lightly. Izuku’s
responding groan is way too loud.

“Shhh, baby,” Katsuki whispers. “I got you.”

Katsuki scooches down the bed, kissing Izuku’s collarbones and sternum as he lowers
himself. He cups Izuku’s balls in his free hand, squeezing gently, and Izuku’s toes curl.

“‘S good,” Izuku says, his flushed face screwed up and gaping. “You’re so— fuck,
Kacchan.”

God, Katsuki feels drunk on his arousal. Everything is hazy except for Izuku spread out
before him. His emerald curls are blazing in the morning light, his freckled thighs are tense,
his built chest heaving. Fuck, they should have done this ages ago. Katsuki wants to possess
Izuku in every way possible; he wants to know Izuku’s body like his own.

He studies Izuku’s face closely as he strokes him, makes note of when Izuku jerks in his hand
and gasps: while thumbing his slit, as he traces a sensitive vein along his shaft, when he
gives his balls another squeeze. God Izuku’s cock feels wonderful in his hand, thick and hot
and hard. The urge to put it in his mouth is so strong that Katsuki’s mouth waters in
anticipation. Fuck it. He dives in, licking a wet stripe up the shaft and Izuku gasps, grasping
at his bedsheets until the fabric squeaks.

“Kacchan, you really— you’re— so good—” Izuku shudders underneath him, powerful
thighs twitching as they barely resist clamping on Katsuki’s head. He grins up at Izuku
wickedly before giving the shaft a filthy kiss. “ Kacchan.”

“Yeah?” he prods. He runs the flat of his tongue over the head of Izuku’s cock. His pre-cum
is bitter and invigorating and Izuku’s . There’s a white-hot surge of arousal. This is Izuku too,
little pieces of Izuku are swishing in his mouth and slipping down his throat. Katsuki laps him
up greedily as he keeps pumping, suddenly desperate for more. Izuku’s legs tremble with the
effort of staying spread open and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Can’t believe it, can’t believe you’re real,” Izuku sobs. Katsuki sucks the tip into his mouth,
swirling his tongue around the head, and Izuku cries out. He scrambles to reach Katsuki,
tugging at his sleeve. “Kacchan, Kacchan I’m gonna—”

Good, Katsuki thinks, savagely. He wants it, he wants it in his mouth. He wants to walk
around all day knowing Izuku’s cum is sloshing inside his belly. He sucks him down hard,
taking him as far as he can go. Izuku’s cry sends zing up Katsuki’s spine.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Izuku babbles, his face a tear stained mess. Katsuki suckles and
strokes in tandem, only drawing back to prod the slit with his tongue. Izuku’s gasp sounds
like it hurts.
“Yes!” he cries. He writhes underneath Katsuki, bucking up into Katsuki’s mouth; Katsuki
chokes as he nudges the back of his throat. “Yes, just like that. Kacchan—”

A hand fists in Katsuki’s hair. Izuku goes stiff, every muscle in his body tightening. Hot cum
hits the back of Katsuki’s throat and his eyes water— for a second Katsuki can’t breathe—
fuck, right. Katsuki’s jaw works as he does his best to swallow everything, but some drools
out of his mouth and splatters onto Izuku’s thighs. Izuku’s shuddering moans are so fucking
beautiful. Katsuki watches him toss his head back, the sexy line of his jaw trembling and
Adam’s apple bobbing. His face strawberry-red and screwed up in what looks like agony.
Katsuki devours it all hungrily. Izuku’s pleasure is his now. Fuck, Katsuki is never gonna get
enough.

“God,” Izuku sighs, shaking as he comes down from his high.. “Kacchan, oh my god.”

Katsuki’s hum is smug. He crawls up the bed and kisses Izuku’s mouth again. Izuku grins
into it, lapping up the mess of drool and cum on Katsuki’s chin with a pleased sound. Katsuki
shivers. Why the fuck is that so hot? Izuku grips his shoulders, cradling his hips with his legs.

“Kacchan is good at everything,” Izuku breathes.

Katsuki barks out a laugh. He knocks their foreheads together and grins, triumphant.

Katsuki lets Izuku shower first while he starts on breakfast. He washes his hands twice,
sanitizes them, and then washes them a third time just to be safe, making sure to scrub under
his nails in case uh— you know. Jizz. Fuck, it makes Katsuki lightheaded to think about it.
He really did that, he’d gotten Izuku off. Katsuki couldn’t wipe the big stupid grin off his
face even if he wanted to. They loved each other. They were together. The possessiveness
purrs in Katsuki’s chest. Him and Izuku, together.

Wait.

Katsuki freezes in place, staring into the sink vacantly as he realizes. He replays it all in his
head quickly: Kacchan, I need you, I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to get it up for
me, Kacchan, you made my wish come true. Katsuki’s stomach sinks with sudden horror.
Wait, wait, wait. They… they are together, right? Katsuki had said he’d try to be worthy of
him, surely that implied—

The possessive purr in his chest sours. Implied isn’t good enough.

Fuck! Katsuki buries his face in his wet hands. He’s so fucking bad at this. How had he given
Izuku a blowjob before confessing to him properly? He scrubs his hands a fourth time
furiously.
Whatever, it’s fine. It’s fucking fine. He knows Izuku loves him. He’d have to be an idiot not
to know. He’ll just confess now. But then there’s a twinge of anxiety. Doesn’t Izuku deserve a
proper confession? Something sweet and romantic? Katsuki thinks about their many plans for
today: the museum, the beach, the mini-carnival. He has about a dozen golden opportunities
to confess.

Which would Izuku like best? Katsuki ponders on it as he starts breakfast. Katsuki thinks the
All Might museum is the worst out of the three, but then again, Izuku is the biggest goddamn
nerd on the planet. Maybe in his twisted little freak brain, getting confessed to in the shadow
of a giant, bronze All Might statue is the most romantic thing imaginable. The thought makes
Katsuki wrinkle his nose and he smashes the ingredients for pancake batter together with
more force than necessary.

The beach then? Beaches are romantic, right? And it’s a personal spot too. It’s the same
beach he and Izuku had gone to all the time as children. Katsuki thinks of the big rocky cliffs
and foamy waves. Would the cliffside be more romantic or the shore? Or would the carnival-
party be better than both? The rides, the crepes, the Ferris Wheel. But then all their stupid
friends would be there, undoubtedly watching them like hawks and eager to tease. Ugh!
Katsuki beats the pancake batter into submission angrily. God, this is fucking impossible.

The noise must draw Inko out, because she pads into the kitchen. There’s a sleep cardigan
draped over her shoulders and she smiles at him tiredly.

“Oh, Katsuki-kun, you didn’t have to cook again,” she says, voice a little husky with
morning.

Okay, chill out. He has to look cool in front of his maybe-boyfriend's mom. Katsuki shrugs
dismissively.

“I’m used to it,” he gruffs.

She pats his shoulder. “You spoil him, don’t you?”

Katsuki flushes. He thinks of his many plans for today, the whole fucking carnival later,
Izuku’s sighs and moans.

“Something like that,” he admits.

Izuku’s breathy voice echoes back to him. ‘S good, Kacchan. No, no goddamn it focus on
something else, literally anything else. Do the Midoriyas have a coffee maker? They’re going
to need caffeine if they’re going to get through everything Katsuki has planned for today. He
turns from her then, rummaging through the cabinets to keep himself busy. He hopes she
doesn’t notice that his ears are a burning pink.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says, sounding amused.

He’s jittering with nerves as he searches. Should he like… ask permission to date her son or
something? No, that would be fucking weird it’s not like they’re getting married or some shit.
Katsuki’s stomach lurches painfully at the thought. Married. Izuku with a ring on his finger,
bound to him in every sense possible. The possessiveness is loud and rumbling in his chest.
The butterflies erupting in his gut are so violent they feel like they’re tearing at his insides
with razor-sharp wings. Oh my god. He clutches at his chest. Okay, fuck one step at a time.
Ask Izuku to be his boyfriend first, Jesus Christ. He’s lightheaded as he continues his hunt for
the coffee maker.

“Can I help you find something, dear?” Inko asks, gently.

He turns to look at her over his shoulder. “Yeah, uh coffee maker?”

Inko pouts as she considers. “I might have left it in the storage closet.”

She mumbles to herself as she wanders off. Just like Izuku, Katsuki thinks with a tug of
fondness. Katsuki suddenly remembers he was literally in the middle of making pancakes and
curses himself. He draws out the frying pan, spritzes it with cooking spray, and pours out a
small flat cake.

Footsteps bound down the stairs. Katsuki straightens, a thrill fluttering through him. Izuku.
He turns and Izuku is in the doorway freshly out of the shower and glowing. Izuku makes a
beeline for him, throwing his arms around Katsuki’s waist and dropping his chin onto his
shoulder as he hugs him from behind. Katsuki has to have the biggest, dopiest grin on his
face.

“Pancakes?” Izuku asks, peeking over Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Yeah no shit,” Katsuki says, softer than he means to. He’s so fucking happy it should be a
crime. He leans over to kiss his temple and Izuku stands on his toes, chasing the kiss with his
mouth. Katsuki laughs. “Greedy.”

“I’m allowed to be greedy,” Izuku states. He kisses him again, slow and savoring. “It’s my
birthday.”

Damn right it is. Katsuki smiles and nudges Izuku with his elbow. “Make yourself useful and
cut up some fruit.”

“Okay!” Izuku says brightly and he bounds over to the fridge.

Katsuki can’t stop sneaking glances at him. God, he’s so cute. He hums as he procures the
strawberries from the fridge, shoulders shimmying and bouncing from foot to foot in a little
happy dance. He drags his hand over the small of Katsuki’s back as he passes and Katsuki
breaks into a full-body chill. No, no, goddamn it, focus! Breakfast has gotta be kick-ass too.
Katsuki flips the pancake over and it sizzles.

They work side by side, an arms-width apart. Besides the humming, Izuku is oddly quiet.
Usually, he’s chattering Katsuki’s ear off by now. Katsuki’s heart races, not even knowing
where to begin trying to interpret that. He can hear the knife working, the floorboards
creaking as Izuku sways to his own music. Katsuki risks another glance and Izuku is looking
right back at him, grinning madly.
“What?” Katsuki demands, even though he’s grinning too.

Izuku shakes his head and god he’s so fucking pretty. His green curls bounce around his
sweet freckled face, his emerald eyes dazzling and bright. He’s a fucking angel and he’s
maybe Katsuki’s boyfriend. Oh god. Katsuki thinks all these annoying-ass butterflies are
going to make him sick.

Izuku looks away shyly. They resume their work for a moment. And then Izuku nudges him
with his elbow, a strawberry slice pinched between his fingers as he offers it to Katsuki.

“Bite?” he asks.

Katsuki can’t stop fucking smiling. He nods once and Izuku brings the strawberry to
Katsuki’s lips, pushing it into his mouth until his fingers brush his tongue. Fuck. The gentle
intrusion is intoxicating; it’s so much like having Izuku’s cock in his mouth but somehow all
the more intimate. Katsuki only half-suppresses his soft sigh. Izuku’s grin is all-too delighted.
Katsuki can’t help himself; he sucks on the digits tenderly as warmth pools in his belly. He
chases after Izuku’s fingers with soft smacking kisses as his hand retreats.

“Kacchan, so dirty,” he scolds.

Cheeky fucker. He started it. Katsuki glares at him, but Izuku only giggles.

“I meant I’ll have to wash my hands now,” Izuku clarifies. He picks up another strawberry, a
full one, and presses it to Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki obediently takes a bite and then Izuku brings
it to his own mouth and finishes off the rest, not breaking eye contact once.

“These are good,” he says, tongue darting out to lick the juice from his fingers. Katsuki’s
grunt of agreement is somewhat strained. Izuku’s eyes are glittering with amusement.

Izuku moves to discard the stem and Katsuki’s stares after him. His mouth is still tingling
from the intrusion and his cock pulses with it. He’s fucking transfixed by Izuku: the way his
shoulders flex under his sleep-shirt, how his thick ass pops out just the tiniest bit as he leans
over the sink to wash his hands. Mine, mine, tell me you’re mine. Does Izuku have any
fucking idea what he does to him? God he just wants to bend him over the countertop and
have him. See if he’s still a fucking tease with two fingers pumping inside him and a hand
clamped over his mouth. There’s a twinge of insecurity in Katsuki’s chest. Would Izuku like
that? Goddammit, how does Katsuki not know?

The scent of char breaks Katsuki out of his ponderings with a snap. Fuck! The pancakes! He
flips it over, but there’s no saving the pancake. Katsuki spews out a string of curses as he
marches it over to the trash, and Izuku’s giggle is downright giddy.

“Is something distracting you, Kacchan?” Izuku teases.

Katsuki glares at him, but Izuku’s smile only grows. Izuku heads over to the fridge next,
stooping to grab something out of the bottom self and fuck! Katsuki’s mouth goes dry.
Izuku’s plaid sweats warp around the generous curve of his ass and god fucking damn it
please let Katsuki be buried in that immediately. His face or his dick, it doesn’t matter.
Katsuki just wants to ruin him. Seize his stupid pretty face in his hands, kiss him until their
mouths are bruised, grab great fistfuls of his ass until Izuku is moaning and pleading for
Katsuki to fuck him. What the fuck, how the hell is Katsuki already this horny again? He’d
just gotten off an hour ago. But having a taste of Izuku has only thrown fuel to the fire. Only
made Katsuki’s desires more real and potent. He wants to have Izuku. Have him in every way
possible, preferably.

Izuku’s gaze snaps over, catching Katsuki staring shamelessly, and Izuku’s brow quirks.

“What?” he asks, challenging. He gives Katsuki a once-over and Katsuki’s arousal is buzzing
through his skin like an electric charge. “Does Kacchan need something?”

Yes, god yes. The air is suddenly tense and heavy and Izuku’s eyes bore into him hungrily,
waiting for his answer. Katsuki makes a show of scanning Izuku’s body. Thick, powerful
thighs, a trim waist, strong arms, and solid pecs. And his fucking ass. Jesus fucking Christ,
Izuku’s ass is insane. So round and full and perky. Izuku preens under the attention, and he
stands up to full height with a can of whipped cream in his hands. God, the way his ass
recoils when he stands— goddammit, Katsuki is so fucked.

“Does Kacchan see something he likes?” Izuku asks, eyes dancing with amusement.

Holy shit yes. You’re so fucking hot. I’m so fucking in love with you. Please, please for the
love of god say you’re boyfriend. Katsuki’s mouth opens and closes, but the words won’t
come out. Fuck, why is he so nervous? Izuku pads over to him, rejoining Katsuki at the
counter, and his sudden proximity makes Katsuki’s arousal flare.

“Is this what Kacchan likes?” Izuku asks, waving the whipped cream in his face. Katsuki
scoffs. He hooks his arms around Izuku’s waist and yanks him close. Izuku giggles as
Katsuki smothers the side of his face with kisses.

“Don’t be stupid,” Katsuki murmurs against his skin. His heart is in his throat. Should he
confess now? Fuck, why isn’t Katsuki prepared for this?

“Hmm,” Izuku says, drawing back with a wicked glimmer in his eye. He uncaps the whipped
cream and shakes it. “Maybe Kacchan just needs a taste.”

Katsuki huffs through his nose. Fine, whatever. It isn’t the white cream Katsuki prefers Izuku
give him, but he supposes it’ll do. What he doesn’t expect is for Izuku to point the nozzle
right at his face and blast him with it.

“What the fuck!” Katsuki shouts, betrayed as he reels back. The moment is absolutely
shattered as the lower half of his face is coated in cool sticky whip. He scrambles out of their
embrace and a fat dollop splats onto the floor.

“You were supposed to open your mouth!” Izuku cries. He has the audacity to look
disappointed in him.

“You!” Katsuki roars.

He lunges at him, wrestling the can out of his hands and blasting him back in turn. Izuku
shrieks with laughter, trying to bat him off and accidentally smearing whip up into his
eyeline.

“No!” Izuku cries, turning and wiping his eyes. “No, Kacchan!”

Katsuki seizes him from behind, wrapping his arms around Izuku's waist and lifting him.
Izuku thrashes in the air, giggling wildly. Katsuki dowses him with more whipped cream and
Izuku screams.

“Kacchan, please!” he wheezes.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Katsuki curses, his chin is hooked over his shoulder and smears
whipped cream into Izuku’s neck. Izuku feels so fucking good in his arms and Katsuki aims
sticky kisses at Izuku’s jawline. Izuku turns into it and wow. His mouth is all sugar and cream
like a fucking dream. Holy shit, kissing is so much better without morning breath. Izuku
seems to agree because he seeks his mouth greedily, tongue darting out to lap up the
remaining bits of whip on his face. Heat stirs in Katsuki’s groin as he grips him tighter.

He doesn’t even hear the footsteps approaching.

“Is everything alright in here— Oh!”

Ice lances through Katsuki’s veins. His eyes snap open and Midoriya Inko stands in the
kitchen doorway, coffee maker clutched to her chest and visibly startled. Fuck! Glass
smashes over Katsuki’s head. A Detroit Smash plunges through his gut. He drops Izuku
immediately and takes three steps back, but it’s way, way too fucking late.

“ Oh my god ,” Izuku wheezes, keeling over and covering his face with a hand. “Um— I’m—
Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

They must look fucking ridiculous. With whipped cream all over their faces and flushing
furiously. And they’d just been— tonguing at each other. Fuck the stovetop, Katsuki could
cook the pancakes right on here on his steaming face. Holy shit, Katsuki wishes he could
melt into the earth right about now. Katsuki has just fucked up so hard. So fucking much for
making a good impression on his maybe-boyfriend’s mom. Katsuki drops his head into his
hands.

“Izuku,” Inko scolds, putting a hand on her hip. “Is this always how you help Katsuki-kun in
the kitchen?”

Izuku squeaks. He seizes onto Katsuki’s shoulders, pivoting to shield himself with Katsuki’s
body, and hey what the fuck! Izuku should be hiding him, not the other way around! Fuck,
how to fix this, how to fucking fix this? Katsuki straightens his spine before ducking into a
stiff bow.

“I’m sorry,” he says and fuck, there’s whipped cream splattered all over the floor too. Katsuki
is a dead, dead man. “I’ll— I’ll clean this up.”
Katsuki and Izuku turn toward the sink as one, scrambling to wash themselves as quickly as
possible. Katsuki can barely look at him. Well, Katsuki definitely isn’t horny now. Izuku’s
hands are trembling as he cups the water in his hands and scrubs his face. Katsuki risks a
glance at him; Izuku is so red that his freckles are swallowed up in his blush. Izuku snatches
up a paper towel, and buries his face in it for long, drawn out moments.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Inko says, padding over to pat Katsuki’s shoulder and pinch Izuku’s cheek.
“I already knew.”

Katsuki wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment. Izuku’s hands crumple his paper
towel and he groans.

Breakfast is horribly, terribly awkward, but Katsuki supposes it’s a just punishment.
Mercifully, Inko says nothing more about the whole whipped cream incident and Izuku’s
blush dies down enough to begin making small talk. He gushes over how delicious the food
is, how excited he is about today, only briefly complaining that Katsuki still won’t give him
any hint as to what they’re doing. Inko smiles placatingly.

“I’m sure Katsuki-kun has his reasons,” she says, sending Katsuki a knowing glance. She’s
invited to the Greatest Birthday of All Goddamn Time, of course, but he hadn’t told her about
the day-activities he’d planned. Which reminds him. Katsuki checks the time. Goddammit,
they’re way behind schedule.

“We should head out,” he tells Izuku, nudging him with his knee under the table. “Gotta big
day today.”

“Okay,” Izuku says, obviously eager. Inko clears her throat as she moves to take their plates.

“I’ll clean up,” she offers. “You two better get going.”

Katsuki wants to protest. Didn’t he owe it to her to clean up after himself? Especially after
this morning? But they really are running late so he decides against it. They hurry upstairs to
get dressed and Katsuki instructs Izuku very carefully on what to wear.

“First stop, you'll need good walking shoes,” Katsuki says.

Izuku grins at him. “First stop?”

Katsuki huffs.

“You think I planned on knocking your socks off with just one thing?” Katsuki demands,
flicking his forehead meanly. Izuku makes a great show of pouting at him. “No fuckin’
shot.”

Izuku snorts and Katsuki takes his hand as they head downstairs. Inko smiles at them coyly
as she waves them off, which makes both of them blush furiously. Well. Whatever. Katsuki
supposes this is better than her disapproval, even if it is mortifying.

They head to the train station. The ride down to the museum is mercifully short. Katsuki
checks to make sure he still has the hidden silver little key in his wallet twice, feeling a rush
of relief as the metal winks up at him each time. Good. Katsuki jitters with nerves.

Izuku puts a hand on his bouncing leg.

“I really am sorry about— you know, ” Izuku says, all in a rush. “Today. In the kitchen. I just
got so carried away and I—”

“Zu,” Katsuki says, covering his hand with his own and squeezing. “It’s fine. So did I.”

Izuku beams at him, in love and starry-eyed. Fuck, has it always been this obvious? Katsuki
feels like the biggest idiot alive for not seeing it sooner. If they weren’t in public, Katsuki
would kiss the big stupid grin right off his face.

“You did?” Izuku asks, somewhat breathlessly.

“Course I did,” Katsuki answers. He brushes a stray curl out of Izuku’s face.

I always do when I’m with you, he doesn’t add. Would that count as a confession? It'd
probably be a lame one. There’s nothing romantic about this random fucking train. Katsuki
snags Izuku’s hand and brings his pinky to his lips instead.

Their train chugs to a stop and Katsuki helps Izuku to his feet. Izuku seems much more
relaxed now thankfully and he begins chatting like he usually does. He makes some truly
terrible guesses as to where they’re going as they wander the bustling streets downtown.

“Is it the arcade?” he asks, gesturing with the hand not currently entangled in Katsuki’s own.
The big neon sign blares at them, somehow harsh even in the morning light. A Totally
Radical kid with a backwards cap sticks their tongue out at them, holding a sign that says:
open .

Katsuki snorts at it. “Nope.”

“Ooh, the cat-cafe!” Izuku tries, tugging him forward to coo at the kittens curled up in the
window. Katsuki grins.

“We just had breakfast,” Katsuki chides, shaking his head.

Izuku huffs and squints at Katsuki skeptically. Katsuki rolls his eyes, fond and amused.

“You’re too easy to please,” Katsuki accuses, giving his hand a squeeze. “I said the best
birthday ever, not random shit we could do any day of the week.”
Izuku hums like he isn’t convinced and god he’s so fucking cute. Katsuki thinks something
must be seriously wrong with him; it can’t be normal to think someone is this cute all the
time. Is this what being in love is like? How is anyone supposed to get anything done?
Finally, they turn onto the correct street. Izuku spots the towering museum and frowns.

“We’re not—” he says, shooting Katsuki a look. “Kacchan, that museum is not open for
another week.”

Katsuki grins wickedly. “Yeah, I know.”

It helps to get VIP access to a brand-new All Might Museum when you actually know the
fuckin’ guy. The museum is massive, with stunning, intricate architecture and huge arching
doorways. The building is propped up on towering marble pillars and they have to duck
under a red-velvet rope before climbing the sweeping staircase. Katsuki stops at large double
doors and withdraws the key. Izuku’s eyes bulge.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Izuku says. He almost sounds mad. “ Kacchan .”

Katsuki slides the key into the lock and click! The heavy, oak door swings open and Izuku
covers his mouth with a hand. Katsuki ushers him inside quickly— god knows he didn’t want
any extras getting the wrong idea about this shit being open to the public.

“Oh my god,” Izuku says, voice echoing throughout the open, empty main hall. “I was so
worried— I knew the crowds were gonna be bad, and the media would be a nightmare, but I
still wanted to go and I—”

Katsuki shakes his head fondly. “Yeah, I know.”

Izuku rounds on him and suddenly Katsuki is pancaked against the door and getting kissed
within an inch of his life. Katsuki chuffs, embracing him and frantically trying to keep up.

“You’re amazing,” Izuku sighs into his mouth.

Be my boyfriend then , Katsuki thinks. But all too quickly, Izuku is yanking away, taking
Katsuki’s hand again and tugging him along. Katsuki stumbles after him, grinning.

God, this place is fucking huge. It’s a vast, open-floor museum with high domed ceilings and
multiple floors. The ceiling is paneled with glass to let the daylight soak the marble floors in
gold. There’s got to be a dozen All Mights in this room alone: hanging above their heads,
smiling in framed news clippings, posed in several action stances. It seems to be going in
chronological order; the first real display is a bronze statue of All Might in his youth, wearing
a middle school uniform with a pipe in hand and a grim set of determination to his mouth.
There’s a statue of a woman too, her hand on his shoulder and dark hair whipping in the
wind. Izuku gasps.

“Shimura-san,” he breathes. “Kacchan, this is the seventh user! All Might’s mentor!”

“Yeah?” Katsuki prods.

Izuku is a little teary as rambles about her. He reads the little blurb under their statues out
loud to him too. There are pictures and framed news clippings as well, but Izuku doesn’t stop
to read everything, only summarizing the important bits for Katsuki excitedly. Katsuki is
surprised to see he moves from display to display rather quickly. Izuku actually squeals when
they reach All Might’s first hero costume,

“Oh my god, look at the cape!” Izuku cries, tapping on the glass rudely. He cups his own
cheek in his hand as he gazes at it. “I can’t believe he ever got rid of it. It looks so good!”

Katsuki snorts. “You and your capes.”

They continue at a brisk pace. Izuku is predictably excited and overwhelmed by just about
everything as they follow the timeline of All Might’s greatest deeds. He stops to read the
blurbs for the statues, but always has something to add— a little known fact or some quippy
commentary. When Katsuki had arranged this with All Might, the museum had offered them
a tour guide, but Katsuki knew they wouldn’t need one. Katsuki has the best tour guide of all
time right here. Even when he already knows the information Izuku is going to rattle off, it’s
made all the more enthralling to hear it in Izuku’s words and with his nerdy enthusiasm.

“They included the vinegar incident Kacchan!” Izuku cries. He does an uncanny impression
of All Might’s twisted expression and Katsuki cackles.

“What the fuck?” he says, grinning as he looks between Izuku and the carved likeness of All
Might. “How’d you make your face do that?”

Izuku laughs nervously and ah, there’s the face Katsuki loves again. He scratches the back of
his head. “Practice.”

“Nerd,” Katsuki accuses.

Izuku jabs him in the ribs; Katsuki jabs back and then they’re chasing each other. Their shoes
squeak against the marble and laughter echoes throughout the large, empty halls. Izuku ducks
behind a statue of All Might, peeking over his thick calf at Katsuki and then squeals when
Katsuki charges after him. It’s wonderful. It’s almost like exploring their abandoned school
during those two precious weeks of bed rest again. Just like back then, there’s a weird liminal
quality to the space. Like he and Izuku are tucked away in their own pocket of reality, where
they’re the only two people who exist.

They race down a long corridor of All Might portraits, breathing hard and giggling— when
Izuku skids to a sudden stop.

Katsuki is on him in an instant, locking his arms around his waist, lifting and spinning Izuku
again and again.

“Gotcha,” Katsuki snarls into his throat and Izuku’s laughter fills the whole hall.

“Wait, wait,” Izuku says, patting his arm and gesturing to the painting in front of them.
“Look. This one is one of my favorites.”
The painting is of All Might, of course, as he scales a hundred-foot bridge to save a cat that
had gotten stuck up in the rafters.

“‘A life is a life, no matter how small’,” Izuku quotes. Katsuki sets him back on his feet and
swoops in to kiss his cheek, humming to show that he’s listening. Izuku leans into his touch.
“The cat died a few years ago.”

“Sorry,” Katsuki says, because knowing Izuku he undoubtedly followed the cat’s owner on
Instagram or some shit.

“She was old,” Izuku says, even though his voice wobbles.

Katsuki kisses his cheek again and Izuku shivers. He tilts his head back, exposing the long
line of his throat, and Katsuki takes that as an invitation to pepper kisses down to the slope of
his shoulder. Izuku sighs like he’s pleased.

“You’re good at that,” Izuku breathes.

Katsuki hums against his throat. But then he opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact
with a big, googly-eyed rendition of cartoon All Might just to their left and he tenses like
they’ve been caught. He releases Izuku with a shudder.

“Come on,” he says, taking his hand once again and continuing their tour.

Izuku moves through the museum quicker than Katsuki would have expected, but then
Katsuki supposes he already knows most of it. They climb up staircases, weave through
displays, take pictures of the especially cool exhibits. Katsuki likes the massive recreations of
All Might’s toughest battles best, but notes that Izuku spends the most time appreciating the
actual relics of All Might’s history. Pieces of his support gear, first-edition merch, his many
retired costumes.

“This isn’t right,” Izuku says, frowning at one exhibit on the third floor. “Look at the soles on
these.”

Katsuki checks and sure enough.

“Acid damage,” Katsuki notes. “From the Chemical villain, Amino.”

Izuku tsks his disapproval. “That makes this Silver Age, not Gold.”

“Damn,” Katsuki says, impressed. Pride curls in his chest. “Good catch.”

Izuku beams, and blushes, and looks away shyly. “Thank you.”

Katsuki is going to kiss the hell out of him. As soon as there aren’t about fifty All Might’s
staring right at them anyway. Jesus, this place is almost as bad as Izuku’s room. They walk
over a little bridge overhanging the main hall and an All Might is suspended over their head,
waving down at them merrily. Katsuki squints at him. Irritating third-wheel ass geezer. Of
course, Katsuki had asked the real All Might if he wanted to accompany them today, but All
Might had declined hastily, muttering something about not wanting to intrude which—
Katsuki frowns suddenly. Hey, wait a fucking second.

The final room is the only one that has the door shut. It’s unlocked of course, but Katsuki had
thought this part would be better as a reveal. There’s a gold plaque above the door frame that
reads: The Future . Izuku glances at him and Katsuki squeezes his hand.

“Go on,” Katsuki prods, gesturing with his head.

Izuku opens the door slowly, like he’s afraid whatever’s inside might leap out and bite him.
But it’s only a room. With a lifelike statue of Izuku at the center.

A New Symbol of Peace , the plaque beneath reads. Izuku holds a hand over his mouth.

“Oh.” He chokes. “Oh my god.”

There’s a statue of Katsuki too, but it’s further down with the recreation of All Might’s
dramatic last-minute rescue. Katsuki couldn’t care less about it. He’s too busy drinking in
Izuku’s reaction: his teary face, his wobbly smile as he shoots Katsuki an almost stern look.

“Did you—” he struggles. “Did you know?”

Katsuki grins. “You like it?”

Izuku sobs. He snakes an arm around Katsuki’s waist and buries his face in his shoulder.
Katsuki guides him forward. The room has recreations of the Sludge Villain incident, his
theatrics at the Sports Festival, his first battle with Shigaraki. Katsuki is only a little miffed
that his stabbing is barely a footnote. Izuku is crying too hard to read anything, so Katsuki
does it for him, hugging him from behind and chin nested in his shoulder as he murmurs in
his ear.

Of course there are likenesses done of Izuku’s last battle with Shigaraki too. Katsuki feels a
shock when he sees it. He still hasn’t seen any of the footage for himself with the media-
blocking software still installed on his phone. He’d never imagined it would look like this .
The statue of Izuku is shirtless, bulging with black webbing, and a truly haunting look in his
eye. Katsuki feels a dark chill looking at him. This Izuku is a sight to behold.

“The fuck happened to you?” he asks, softly. Izuku shakes his head.

“Not today,” he says, sniffing. “I don’t— just not today.”

Katsuki moves on quickly. They skip his own display entirely, though Izuku does comment
that Katsuki’s statue looks very handsome. Katsuki preens and Izuku gives his cheek a wet
kiss.

“Come on,” Katsuki says, guiding him to the very last display. It’s of All Might and Izuku
together, a mirror to the very first statue with All Might and Shimura Nana at the beginning.
All Might is in his deflated form, beaming proudly with his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku
looks confident and handsome, though Katsuki thinks his hair isn’t fluffy enough. Not nearly
enough freckles either. Izuku’s tears start up again in earnest so Katsuki reads for him.
“‘Brave, brilliant, and kind, there is no better legacy All Might could have hoped to leave,’”
Katsuki murmurs. He punctuates this with a kiss to his cheek and Izuku sniffles. “‘With Deku
paving the way, the future looks bright.’”

Izuku breaks into a watery laugh. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki admits. He cups Izuku’s cheek in his hand, tilting in for a proper kiss this
time. “Doesn’t mean it ain’t true though.”

Izuku’s face crumples. He throws his arms around Katsuki, kissing him over and over again.
Katsuki is seeing stars by the time Izuku releases him, shaking his head and laughing.

“My socks,” Izuku announces, framing Katsuki’s throat in his hands. “They’re knocked off.”

Katsuki is blazing with victory. He draws him close, hiding his grin in Izuku’s shoulder.

They make their exit once Izuku’s stomach starts rumbling. Fuck, Katsuki has to hurry. They
still have to hit the beach before the party tonight. Plus they’ll need time to clean up after.
Katsuki checks the time and shit! It’s already two pm. God, they only have a few hours
before the idiots will be on his ass to get Izuku up to the school. He makes sure his phone is
turned up to full volume so he doesn’t miss their call.

“Come on,” Katsuki says, tugging on Izuku’s hand as they head to the train station. “We gotta
stop by your place first and then we’ll eat.”

“Okay,” Izuku says, so soft and pliant.

Katsuki urges him up the stairs as soon as they’re back at Izuku’s house.

“Go change into your swimsuit,” he orders. Izuku’s brow pops, but does as he’s told. Katsuki
packs the cooler into the beach bag. It’s only two-thirty, technically they have plenty of time,
but Katsuki still feels rushed and jittery. How long was the walk to the beach? How much
time would they need to shower and change when they get back? Fuck, he should have
known the All Might museum would take up so much time. This day has to be fucking
perfect. He’s gotta hurry, gotta triple check that he has everything. He races up the stairs three
at a time to change into his swimsuit and almost crashes right into Izuku.

“Sorry,” Katsuki says, ducking to swerve past, but Izuku doesn’t let him. He cups Katsuki’s
cheek in his hand and Katsuki feels a soft rush at his touch.

“Hey,” Izuku says, quietly. “Stop freaking out.”

Katsuki huffs, a protest ready on his tongue. Izuku runs the rough pad of his thumb over his
bottom lip, shushing him before he can begin.

“I can’t enjoy today without you enjoying it too,” Izuku says, so patient and kind. “Let’s just
take it easy, alright?”

Right. Katsuki takes in a steadying breath through his nose, then sighs it out through his
mouth. Izuku smiles, kissing Katsuki briefly, before allowing him to pass. Katsuki still
changes as quickly as he can.

Next stop is the beach. For almost a decade it had been a trash-ridden ruin, but within the past
few years or so it’s been restored to its former glory. Katsuki hadn’t believed it until he’d
scoped it out the week prior; he’s still amazed at just how much better it looks. This pathway
is familiar. Their families had come here together all the time as children.

“We’re lucky the city finally decided to clean this shit up,” Katsuki says, as they march down
to the shore. Izuku grins at him bashfully.

“I mighta had something to do with that,” he admits, scratching the back of his head.
Katsuki’s brows shoot up into his hair.

“What? Like a volunteer program or—?” Katsuki says, searching his face. Izuku shakes his
head.

“It was part of my training,” Izuku says, and he explains everything as they march through
the clean, pristine sand.

“ What the fuck ,” Katsuki whispers at the end of it, and Izuku laughs. “All that shit was a
training exercise?”

Izuku shrugs. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

Finally, they reach the cliffside. It’s a little tricky with their beach bag, umbrella, and cooler,
but they manage to cram themselves into the hidden crack in the rocky wall. The cave inside
is cool and dark, but the exit isn’t far off. Once they’re out the other end, they’re brought to
the very same beach their mothers used to bring them to when they were brats.

It’s perfect. It’s just how Katsuki remembers it. Their own private, secluded cove. The sand is
soft, the waves are gentle, and it’s surrounded on both sides by huge rocky cliffs that stretch
far out into the ocean, shielding the beach like cupped hands. It’s always been sort of a local
secret, and was never particularly crowded, but especially after years of being hidden under
piles of garbage, the spot is entirely their own.

Katsuki can still remember what it was like before though: children laughing as they ran from
the waves, parents with their picnic blankets and boogie-boards, there would always be a
gaggle of teenagers goading each other into jumping off the cliffs that overhang on either
side. Often they’d shove each other into the watery depths below, screaming the whole way
down. Katsuki remembers watching it in awe. He’d always wanted to try. Katsuki and Izuku
had promised each other they would as soon as their parents deemed them old enough. But
then Katsuki had gotten his quirk, and the place became a dumping ground, and they’d never
gotten the chance.

Izuku eyes the western cliff knowingly as they set up camp. Katsuki spears the umbrella into
the earth at an angle and pins down the towels with the cooler and beach bag. Izuku’s mouth
is pursed strangely. His eyes are glimmering with hope.

“Really?” he asks, sending the cliff a significant glance.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki scoffs. He offers Izuku his hand. “Why the hell do you think we came?”

Izuku beams, laughing as Katsuki tugs him along. The cliff is higher than Katsuki
remembers, but the rocks are smooth and easy to climb. They’re panting by the time they
reach the top. The sea breeze tugs at their hair as they peer over the edge. Katsuki feels a roil
of fear. Which is ridiculous. He’s launched himself way higher than this before. And he
knows Izuku has too. There’s nothing scary about it.

They exchange a glance.

“Hold my hand,” Izuku demands.

Katsuki rolls his eyes and takes it.

“You’re not actually scared of this shit, are you?” Katsuki asks, flatly.

Izuku’s veridian curls dance in the wind. His eyes are firework-bright and fond.

“No,” he admits, smiling. “It’s just how I always pictured it.”

Katsuki loves him so goddamn much. It swells in his ribcage like an overblown balloon,
straining against his heartstrings painfully. He has no choice but to kiss him then, the wind
whipping at their swim trunks, arms wound around each other, and bare chests pressed flat
together.

“You sappy fuck,” Katsuki accuses when they break away.

Izuku’s grin only broadens. He takes Katsuki’s hand again, glancing down at the glittering
water below.

“On three?” he asks.

They back up a few steps. The wind gushes between their legs. Their hands are clasped so
tight that their knuckles are white and Katsuki’s fingers tingle.

“One, two—”

And even though he said three, Izuku charges forward then. Katsuki stumbles after him
helplessly. Goddamn menace why would he say three if he didn’t actually mean on fucking—
but then they are launching off the edge, soaring through open air. Wind roars past Katsuki’s
ears and rides up his swimsuit. His belly swooshes as he plummets, feet tingling as they cut
through the air. Falling, falling, falling— Izuku shouts and then they’re engulfed in brisk,
salty water. Only the plunge into the depths breaks their hands apart.

It’s colder than Katsuki thought it’d be. The plummet has sent them deep into water and it
takes him several seconds to kick back to the surface, breaking through with a gasp. Izuku’s
head is already bobbing above the water, sputtering.

“I got water up my nose!” he complains and Katsuki cackles.

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki says. He cups his hand and splashes Izuku right in his face.

“Hey!” Izuku sputters. “Asshole!”

Katsuki cackles and Izuku supercharges his arm before sending a fucking tidal wave at him.
Katsuki does not scream, but he does make some sort of strangled sound as he’s swallowed
up.

“Oh my god,” Izuku is still laughing when Katsuki resurfaces. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re such a fucking dick!” Katsuki snaps, swiping the excess water out of his eyes.

“I didn’t think it’d get that big!” Izuku cries.

He’s so fucking lucky Katsuki would never actually try to drown him. Izuku seems to be
thinking along the same lines, because he giggles and sticks his tongue out at him. Izuku
glances toward the shore.

“Race you back to the top!” he shouts, already charging forward.

“Cheat and I’ll fucking kill you!”

Izuku cheats. Because of course he fucking does. Katsuki can see the crackle of green energy
spiraling around his limbs as he speeds toward the shore. Goddamn asshole. Katsuki’s laugh
is half a growl as he chases after him.

Katsuki loses track of how many times they jump after that. Izuku tells him to wait and watch
as he does a flip off the side, only to land on his back painfully. Katsuki is still keeled over
and laughing hysterically by the time Izuku races back up to the top, shoving Katsuki off the
edge in retaliation. They take turns running and diving, seeing who could touch the ocean’s
sandy floor first. Once, Izuku demands Katsuki throw him off the edge, but Katsuki just can’t
bring himself to do it, cradling Izuku’s wet body to his chest and shaking his head. Izuku
settles for letting Katsuki jump with Izuku in his arms instead and Katsuki thinks it’s just as
good.

They’re panting and haggard by the time they drag themselves back under the shelter of their
umbrella. Katsuki collapses onto their beach towels with a whump. God, Katsuki had totally
forgotten to calculate just how exhausting doing all of this would be. He should have packed
an energy drink with lunch. Which reminds him. His stomach rumbles loudly. Fuck, they’d
forgotten to eat in their haste to cliff dive, and Katsuki is suddenly aware that he’s absolutely
starving.
But then he catches sight of Izuku and stops short of reaching for the cooler. Izuku lays belly-
down, face squished against the towels and his cheeks are rosy with more than exertion. Oh
shit. Katsuki crawls to Izuku on his elbows, cupping Izuku’s jaw in a hand as he turns face
and yup. Izuku blinks up at him and his skin is hot to the touch.

“Goddammit I forgot to put sunscreen on you,” Katsuki grumbles.

Izuku’s laugh is soft. “On me?”

Katsuki flushes. Hopefully Izuku thinks he’s just sunburnt.

“You think you can get your back all on your own?” Katsuki demands.

“Hmm,” Izuku says, voice light as he teases, “I suppose that does fall under your
jurisdiction.”

Katsuki grins and Izuku rolls onto his back with a heavy sigh. Katsuki leans over him to grab
the beach bag, retrieving a towel and sunscreen. He brushes the damp hair off of Izuku’s
forehead, tucking loose curls behind his ears before dabbing his face dry. Izuku watches him
with a bemused sort of expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks quietly. Katsuki rubs the towel down his chest.

“What’s it look like, nerd?” Katsuki says. He cracks open the sunscreen next and squeezes a
dollop onto his fingers. “Stay still.”

He smears the sunscreen over Izuku’s toasted skin, making sure to get his forehead and the
apples of his cheeks. Izuku preens under the attention, smiling and unable to contain his
giggling.

“I said stay still,” Katsuki says, tersely.

“Tickles,” Izuku says. Katsuki massages it into the squish of his cheeks, watching the
freckles move as he does with a dangerously pleased rush. God he just wants to sink his teeth
into him.

“Stop smiling,” Katsuki orders. He’s making it difficult to get the creases in his cheeks and
the corners of his eyes. Izuku struggles not to, but he keeps twitching into a grin and giggling
at himself when he remembers he isn’t supposed to. “Izuku.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku says. He clears his throat and closes his eyes, schooling himself into a
neutral expression. Katsuki is hit with such a sudden surge of fondness that it feels like a tidal
wave crashing right into his chest. Katsuki reaches for more sunscreen, coating down the
column of Izuku’s throat and smoothing the lotion over Izuku’s well-defined chest. Fuck, he
feels so good. He’s so strong and beautiful and— and freckled . Katsuki is enraptured at the
way they cluster at the tops of his shoulders, the spray thinning out the further down his chest
he goes, only to get more numerous again at his thighs. Izuku’s chest heaves as Katsuki’s
hands wander over every inch of him. Katsuki goes slow, maybe taking too much enjoyment
out of following the ridges of Izuku’s abdominals and tracing the curve of Izuku’s pecs. Izuku
whimpers when his fingers slide over his nipples and fuck, Katsuki’s mouth is so dry.

This is mine, he thinks, possessively. Maybe not officially, not yet. But that hardly matters.
Izuku’s heart is his. It’s just a matter of saying it aloud. Katsuki opens his mouth, ready to
claim Izuku as his own—

And then his old guilt niggles at him. You really think Izuku wants to be your boyfriend?
Katsuki grits his teeth, wincing as he stamps the thoughts down.

He’s already mine, Katsuki thinks furiously. There’s no going back from this. He can’t do it,
he won’t. He won’t break Izuku’s heart like that. Katsuki tries to shake himself out of it,
nudging at Izuku’s flank until he rolls over so he can rub sunscreen on his back. He throws a
leg over him, sitting on that thick ass as he massages the lotion into Izuku’s shoulders— oh
god. Wait, he's miscalculated. Fuck the squish of his ass feels so fucking good under him.
Katsuki’s cock is hardening in his swimsuit and there’s no way Izuku doesn’t feel it. Izuku
hums like he’s pleased, arching his back up into him.

“Kacchan,” he says, practically purring.

“Sorry,” Katsuki whispers. He scoots back a bit, straddling Izuku’s thighs instead, but fuck
those are sexy too. “I—um—”

Izuku turns his head, blinking back at him in confusion. “You okay?”

Katsuki nods, but does Izuku’s back much more quickly than he did his chest. All this
touching is not helping his stupid, raging boner. Katsuki scrambles off of him the second he’s
finished and Izuku rolls over to stare at him, a little pout tugging on his lips. But then his eyes
glimmer with mischief. He snatches up the sunscreen and waves it at Katsuki.

“Your turn,” he says.

Katsuki sits cross-legged as Izuku lathers him up. Izuku touches him so reverently. Like
Katsuki is precious and irreplaceable. He starts with Katsuki’s back first, following every
ripple of muscle with his rough, delicious fingers. God, his hands leave trails of fire in their
wake, every caress makes Katsuki cock pulse. This was such a bad idea. Katsuki should have
risked skin cancer instead. It’s indecent to be this aroused out in the open like this, but oh
god, Izuku’s hands are fucking heavenly. Izuku sits on his knees behind him, kneading lotion
into the meat of his shoulders before dipping down low and shamelessly groping Katsuki’s
pecs. Fuck! Katsuki’s breath shudders out of him.

“Still okay?” Izuku whispers in his ear.

Not really. But Katsuki nods, swallowing thickly.

Izuku runs his hands over his arms, humming appreciatively as he massages the sunscreen
into his biceps. He kisses his throat, and Katsuki flinches as the arousal flares in his gut.
Izuku shrinks back.
“Sorry,” Izuku whispers.

“No, it’s fine,” Katsuki insists. Izuku clears his throat and finishes Katsuki’s chest, much
more mechanically than before. Katsuki closes his eyes and tries to kill his boner through
sheer force of will.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks. “Look at me?”

Katsuki turns, meets his gaze, and oh. It hits Katsuki all in a rush. Izuku. God, just look at
him. Izuku is so beautiful, so sun-kissed and radiant, and smiling at him a little sadly. He has
such long eyelashes, such a plush kissable mouth. Izuku dribbles more sunscreen onto his
scarred, crooked fingers and then touches Katsuki’s face. Oh. Katsuki leans into it helplessly
and Izuku giggles.

“You like that?” he asks.

I like you, Katsuki thinks. Fuck, should he say it? Is this the right time? Katsuki’s mind reels
as Izuku rubs the lotion into his cheeks. Izuku stares at him with so much affection as he cups
Katsuki’s face in both hands, brushing over his cheekbones with his thumbs gently, following
the slope of his nose. He sticks his tongue out a little as he concentrates and Katsuki feels the
urge to taste it, run his tongue over it and push it back into his mouth with eager, wanting
kisses. He shivers, the arousal still bright and simmering within him.

“Are you cold?” Izuku asks, devastatingly quiet.

It’s a strangely intimate moment. Something to do with the hush of the waves, the shelter of
the towering cliffs, the cocoon of shade under their umbrella, and all their tender caressing.
Katsuki smiles at him softly.

“Not cold,” Katsuki assures him.

“Mmm,” Izuku says. He retrieves a spare towel and drapes it over Katsuki’s shoulders
anyway, rubbing it down along his arms. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“You even listening to me?” he demands, teasing. “Said I wasn’t cold.”

Izuku gives him a wry grin.

“Just lemme take care of you,” Izuku whispers. His palm rests against Katsuki’s bare chest.
Katsuki wonders if he can feel his heart pounding damningly hard under his fingers.

“It’s your birthday,” Katsuki counters, lowly. Damn. He missed a spot of lotion by Izuku’s
brow. He rubs away the white dollop with his thumb. Izuku turns into it, nuzzling his palm. “I
should be the one takin’ care of you.”

“You’re right,” Izuku says, patting his pec lightly. “It’s my birthday. And I should get
whatever I want. Which includes taking care of you.”

Katsuki snorts.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says with no bite.

“I’m allowed to be ridiculous,” Izuku counters, waggling his brow as he leans in. “It’s my
birthday.”

Katsuki laughs despite himself and Izuku smiles. Izuku looks at him so hopefully then, lips
parted and emerald eyes full of longing. Katsuki’s brows pinch. What? What does he want?
Katsuki searches his face and Izuku’s gaze dips to his lips.

Ah. Of course. Katsuki breaks into a grin. He supposes one kiss couldn’t hurt.

Katsuki cups the back of Izuku’s neck, drawing him forward and kissing him softly. Izuku
makes such a sweet sound of surprise. Izuku grips his shoulder with one hand, cupping his
face with the other. Fuck, the soft give of Izuku’s mouth is everything. Katsuki tilts Izuku’s
head back to kiss him deeper and Izuku’s whimper goes straight to his cock.

Katsuki should stop. Has to stop even. They’re in public, they still haven’t had lunch, and
they’ve already been caught making out once today— but Izuku hums into their kiss happily
and Katsuki forgets everything else. God, Katsuki’s blood thrums with the rightness of it. He
was born to kiss Izuku this way, they were made for each other. Their tongues brush against
one another and Katsuki feels it like an electric shock. His hands find Izuku’s waist, tugging
him into his lap and ah. That’s the love of his life, sitting right on his dick. Jesus fuck, the
friction is delicious. Katsuki gasps, hands raking across Izuku’s back as the kiss turns hungry
and needy. Izuku rocks gently in his lap and Katsuki clings to him, massaging the thick
muscle along Izuku’s shoulder with one hand, the other sliding south. He shouldn’t— he
can’t—but he also can’t resist. Katsuki seizes a fistful of that ass and oh my fucking god it
feels so good. The rush of arousal leaves him dizzy. Izuku breaks away with a broken moan.

“Kacchan.”

Katsuki buries himself in the crook of his neck, suckling kisses at his throat. He tastes more
like saltwater and sunscreen than himself, which is annoying, but Katsuki supposes sacrifices
have to be made. Izuku’s whines are sweet and numerous and oh so fucking good.

“Kacchan,” he breathes. His hand tugs at Katsuki’s hair, rocking against him gently.
“Kacchan.”

This isn’t the place for this. Sure, the cove is secluded, and the umbrella should shield them
in case anyone happens to wander by, but it’s still too risky. Katsuki breaks away gasping.

“Sorry,” he slurs. He’s so aroused that his mind is hazy with it. Izuku’s whimper is pitiful. He
runs his hands up Katsuki’s back, massaging his shoulders.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks. He’s still grinding, needy as ever, and the small friction is
fucking wonderful.

“Zu, we’re in public,” Katsuki murmurs.

“So?” Izuku demands. He mouths at Katsuki’s jawline, suckling gently.

God, he really is fucking shameless. Katsuki relishes it. He captures his mouth with his own
again, tongue delving into Izuku’s mouth—

Izuku’s stomach makes a truly fearsome sound as it growls.

“Fuck, I forgot to feed you!” Katsuki gasps as he remembers suddenly. He shoves Izuku off
his lap and Izuku flumps onto his back, curls haloed around his head on the beach towels.

“Kacchan,” he whines, arms thrown up over his head in defeat. Katsuki ignores him,
cracking open the cooler and tossing a sandwich at him. “Really?”

But Katsuki’s mind is reeling. He’s done this all wrong, how has the plan been thrown so out
of whack? He checks his phone and blanches. Five-thirty? Fuck, it’s way too late in the day
for lunch. The mini-carnival is gonna be packed with food. What if Izuku eats too much?
He’ll feel pressured to enjoy everything given how much trouble they went to. What if he
gorges himself and gets sick on one of the rides? Katsuki feels a shot of panic. If Izuku
throws up on his birthday then it’s Game Over. The Greatest Birthday of All Goddamn Time
absolutely ruined because of Katsuki’s poor time management skills. God, he should have
made them picnic in the All Might amphitheater. He just thought Izuku would like lunch at
the beach better. He tosses his phone aside angrily. Stupid, stupid. Katsuki groans, holding his
head in his hands.

“Hey,” Izuku says, hand shooting out and squeezing his thigh. “Hey, don’t freak out. It’s
alright.”

“I’m not freaking out!” Katsuki snaps, harsher than he means to. Then he wilts. “I’m— I’m
sorry. I’m doing this all wrong.”

Izuku hums like he understands. He sits up. His lip trembles as he takes in a steadying breath.

“Me too,” Izuku confesses, fiddling with his hands and not looking at him. “This— this is all
so new to me and I… I still can’t believe you’re attracted to me like that, so I just get so
excited and it’s hard to stop and—”

What the fuck? Katsuki’s brain short circuits. Izuku thinks he’s freaking out because—
because of the kissing? But of course that’s what he fucking thinks; he’s an idiot. Katsuki
shakes his head furiously.

“That’s not it,” Katsuki counters quickly, but Izuku is still going.

“I know we’re moving really fast,” Izuku breathes, shaking his head. “I just— I’ve wanted
you for so long, Kacchan. But I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t pressure you or—”

“Stop!” Katsuki cries, reaching for his hand. “You’re not pressuring me! That’s not it!”

Izuku blinks up at him, eyes slightly teary. Katsuki scooches closer on his knees, framing
Izuku’s sweet, freckled face in his hands.
“I— Izuku— there’s—” Okay, what the fuck is happening, is he having a stroke? His heart
hammers in his chest, solid as metal and frantic. “You—”

The waves crash along the shore. They’re cradled under the soft shelter of their umbrella, the
sunlight filtering through the candy-colored fabric and soaking their little pocket of the world
in warm pinks and blues. Izuku stares at him with huge, evergreen eyes, still dark with
arousal and Katsuki knows he can’t wait any longer.

“I never wanna stop either,” Katsuki confesses, hoarse and soft. “Zu, I’m so in love with
you.

Izuku’s breath hitches. His eyes are huge and unreadable. God, it takes everything in Katsuki
to keep going, but he forces himself to.

“I wanna do everything with you,” he continues. “I don’t care if it’s fast; I want to go fast.
I’ve wanted you this whole time. You haven’t done anything wrong I—” Izuku is still staring
like a deer in headlights and Katsuki is seized with sudden panic. “It’s just— the thing
tonight. There’s gonna be a lot of food, and I waited too long for us to have lunch, and I don’t
wanna spoil your dinner, so I freaked out, and I’m worried you’re gonna make yourself sick
and—”

Izuku cuts him off with a sharp, piercing laugh. Tears splinter his irises into a thousand stars
and he seizes Katsuki’s face in his hands.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Izuku cries, shaking him a little. “Kacchan—
Kacchan, you love me?”

Katsuki’s heart is racing, adrenaline bright and lancing through his veins, but he nods
frantically. Izuku crawls back into his lap and all but smashes their faces together again,
tonguing at the seam of Katsuki’s lips and kissing him eagerly. Katsuki groans and wraps his
arms around him, letting Izuku push him onto his back and settle on top of him, kissing and
kissing and kissing him.

“This whole time?” Izuku repeats, disbelieving and hushed against Katsuki’s mouth. “But
you— Kacchan, you never made any moves on me. And I flirted with you so much .”

What? Since when? It’s difficult to concentrate with Izuku’s tongue swiping into his mouth,
but Katsuki remembers quite suddenly all of Izuku’s coy little glances, his teasing taunts, and
mischievous grins.

“I kissed you!” Katsuki cries, seizing a fistful of Izuku’s curls and yanking his head back. “I
kissed you all the time! I cuddled you and made you food—I made plenty of moves!”

Izuku snorts at him and Katsuki scowls. Izuku prods at Katsuki’s chest.

“ I started the cuddling thing,” he says, jabbing at him again for emphasis. “And I started the
kissing thing. I dunno. I thought maybe you were just—” Izuku shrugs helplessly “—playing
along, I guess.”
Katsuki sputters.

“ Playing along? ” he demands, completely outraged. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Kacchan, seriously,” Izuku complains, sighing. He sits up then, and Katsuki follows after,
propping himself on his elbows. Izuku massages at the webbing between his crooked fingers,
shaking his head a little. “Kacchan, you play along with me all the time.”

“I do not,” Katsuki counters hotly.

Izuku throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “Kacchan! What do you mean? You
literally do anything I ask you to!”

Katsuki opens his mouth to protest, but Izuku hushes him.

“Just lemme finish!” he says quickly, and Katsuki’s teeth click shut. “Kacchan, what was I
supposed to think?” Izuku continues, softer now, “You—you made this promise to me. To
give me whatever I asked for, and to be whatever I needed— How was I supposed to know
what you wanted?”

He shakes his head again. Katsuki has about a thousand protests, but he knows Izuku isn’t
done. Katsuki’s mouth squirms as he fights to hold the words back.

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you,” Izuku confesses. The sea breeze tugs at his
curls, sun glinting off the sheen of his sunscreened skin. “But I had to be sure— I didn’t want
it to be just me who wanted a romantic relationship, and because you promised yourself to
me, you went along with it just to make me happy. It— it had to be mutual. It’s why I
promised myself back to you at Momo’s party. I wanted things to be equal between us.”

His smile is both sad and somewhat dreamy. The wind picks up and gooseflesh ripples his
skin. Katsuki sits up fully, snagging the discarded towel and wrapping it around Izuku’s
shoulders. Izuku beams up at him for a moment, but then it falters.

“But then you never asked me for anything,” he continues, sounding put out. “You just kept
going along like we always were. I tried to do everything I could for you. I kept kissing your
pinky, kept trying to remind you that we were equals now—but you just— you never—”
Izuku huffs, disgruntled. “It was like you never needed anything from me.”

“Dumbass—” Katsuki begins, but Izuku takes his hand, and squeezes, cutting him off once
more. Izuku stares at their clasped hands and a dark shadow passes over his gaze.

“And then they brought up all this codependency stuff,” Izuku says in a strained whisper.
“And I thought— maybe you didn’t want me around, you needed me around. You weren’t—
weren’t falling in love with me. You were dependent on me. And all this,” Izuku waves his
hand as he gestures between them, “was just so that you could keep me because you needed
me.”

Katsuki has to physically bite his tongue to keep himself from countering angrily. Stupid,
ridiculous nerd. He can’t fucking believe what he’s hearing right now, but he knows it’s his
fault. Izuku would never have felt this way if Katsuki hadn’t let his guilt rob Izuku of the love
he was always owed.

“I was so scared,” Izuku continues, voice soft and fragile. “My therapist was so mad at me. I
didn’t want to work through it at first because I thought maybe if we weren’t codependent
anymore everything between us would stop. No more kissing and cuddling. We’d go back to
being just regular friends. I couldn’t bear it. She got through to me eventually I just—” Izuku
sniffs, dabbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “I’m just so, so in love with you,
Kacchan. I couldn’t lose what we had.”

Zing! Every nerve in Katsuki’s body lights up at once. All of the hair on his body stands up
on end. The confession rings through Katsuki like a struck bell and the joy sings through him,
warm and sweet and wonderful. Izuku loves him. Katsuki sits up straight, breathing hard.
He’s gotta have the in-love sparkle all over his big, stupid grin.

“Yeah?” Katsuki asks, too roughly, because he has to know. He has to be sure. Izuku shoots
him a withering look.

“Kacchan, you really didn’t know?” he demands. He sniffles as he takes Katsuki’s face in his
hands.

Katsuki shakes his head. Maybe that makes him a fucking idiot, but Katsuki is too gloriously
happy to care. Katsuki’s eyes are misty; his grin feels big enough to split his face in two.

“I love you too,” Katsuki tells him, and god it feels so fucking good to say it. It’s a weight off
his chest, a dark clamp lifted off his lungs. He slides his hand over Izuku’s own, keeping his
fingers pressed to his cheek and turning in to kiss the heel of Izuku’s palm. He’s sort of
overwhelmed with all the information Izuku has just given him, but he closes his eyes and
tries to remember the most important bits to refute. “And I loved you before the
codependency thing too. Before the war, even.”

Izuku’s breath hitches. He stares at Katsuki, wide-eyed and adoring. Katsuki just wants to
kiss the hell out of him, but he has to remain focused. He clears his throat.

“Izuku,” he says, and he kisses the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been really fuckin’ stupid about
all this. I let my guilt stand in your way and that was fucking shitty of me, but I— I always
wanted you. I just didn’t think I deserved to have you.”

Izuku looks ready to protest. Katsuki clamps a hand over his mouth quickly.

“Nuh uh, you had your turn,” he says. Izuku’s sigh streams between his fingers, cheeks
puffing out, and fuck, he’s so kissable. Katsuki has to hurry through this so he can smother
him in affection immediately.

“Did it ever occur to you that I did all that shit cuz I’m fuckin’ crazy about you?” Katsuki
demands. He sees Izuku swallow, his lashes fluttering as he scans Katsuki’s face and Katsuki
tsks.
“I did all those things to make you happy, moron,” Katsuki says, shaking his head. “And I
never asked for anything in return because you already gave me everything I wanted.”

Katsuki’s hand is still sealed over Izuku’s mouth, but his brows pinch in confusion. Katsuki’s
sigh is somewhat aggravated.

“You, nerd,” Katsuki finishes. He lets his arm drop then and Izuku gapes at him. “All I ever
wanted was you.”

He knew the waterworks were coming, but the intensity still surprises him. Katsuki laughs as
Izuku throws himself into his arms, peppering every square inch of him with kisses and
smearing tears all over him. Katsuki rolls them over, settling on top of Izuku and claiming his
mouth with his own. Izuku moans into it greedily and Katsuki suddenly doesn’t give a fuck if
they’re in public. He licks into Izuku’s mouth, swiping his tongue along the inside of his
teeth. Izuku clings to him, nails scratching down Katsuki’s back and legs hooking around
him. Their kissing is endless and wonderful. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to
Katsuki. Fuck the Greatest Birthday of all Goddamn Time, this is simply the greatest day
ever period. God, he’s never going to get enough of this. Izuku’s sweet lips, his wicked
tongue, his soft sighs. Izuku hums happily as Katsuki nibbles on his bottom lip.

Katsuki’s phone goes off. Loud and rude and blaring.

Katsuki jolts. Fuck! This is it, the signal! Their friends are calling, probably with some bad
excuse to lure them back to the school. The carnival. Izuku’s groan this time isn’t even the
least bit sexual.

“Don’t answer that,” he orders.

“Izuku—” Katsuki says, shooting a glance at his phone tossed off to the side.

“Don’t you dare,” Izuku presses, and his legs lock around Katsuki’s hips. He bucks upward,
flipping their positions suddenly and settling his full weight onto Katsuki with an oof. “Don’t
you dare answer that.”

Haha. Fuck. Katsuki is grinning as Izuku kisses him frantically, grinding on him and sighing
into his mouth. Katsuki lets it ring, running his hands all over Izuku’s body, thinking mine,
mine, all mine. The idiots are going to fucking murder him. Izuku whines when Katsuki’s
hand slips under his swimsuit and kneads his ass, and holy shit. The idiots are free to murder
him, it’s totally worth it.

The call goes to voicemail. Izuku rubs their clothed cocks together, hand snaking up
Katsuki’s chest to roll his thumb over his nipple. Katsuki throws his head back and gasps.
Izuku takes the opportunity to nip at Katsuki’s neck, scraping his teeth along his skin gently.

Katsuki’s phone goes off again, and the loud, chiming jingle has never been more irritating.
Izuku growls into Katsuki’s throat.

“Jesus Christ, leave us alone,” Izuku mutters and Katsuki’s laughter is almost giddy. He likes
this side of Izuku.
“I should really get that,” Katsuki breathes, his chest heaving. Izuku bites his throat meanly
and Katsuki jolts, the back of his head hitting the sand hard. “Fuck!”

“No,” Izuku says, firmly.

“Zu—”

But then Izuku is kissing him again and all Katsuki’s thoughts fly out the window. Izuku
loves him, he loves him. Izuku. God, Katsuki feels like he’s glowing. Nothing else matters.
Nothing else exists. Just Izuku and his sexy body and needy mouth. Katsuki would be
ashamed of the sounds he’s making if he wasn’t so aroused. He squeezes Izuku’s ass, guiding
him until they’re grinding together again.

The phone goes off a third time. Izuku breaks away with a wet pop.

“Oh my god,” Izuku snaps, and fuck he’s sexy when he’s mad. Izuku rolls off of him,
snatching up the phone and switching it to silent. He scowls at the screen like it’s personally
scorned him. “ Stop .”

Katsuki giggles helplessly. He’s so fucking in love with him. He’s so fucking screwed. They
really do have to get to that party. Everyone is waiting for them: their friends, Eri, All Might,
their teachers, their parents, the whole fucking carnival they’ve arranged. And yet—

Izuku crawls back over to him, eyes dark and seductive, and goddamnit, what’s Katsuki
supposed to do? Izuku kisses him, sucking Katsuki’s swollen bottom lip into his mouth.

“Zu,” Katsuki says, hushed between kisses. “Zu, I gotta tell you somethin’.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I don’t wanna go to a surprise party.”

Fuck, of course he’s figured it out. Katsuki supposes he basically spelled it out for him

“Zu,” Katsuki scolds. He breaks away then, leveling him with a hard look. “We have to go.”

“No, we don’t,” Izuku counters. He leans in again, mouthing at Katsuki’s jawline and trailing
kisses down his throat. “They’ll get drunk and have fun without us.”

Katsuki snorts. Shows how much he knows. He thinks there’s just some basic, regular-ass
surprise party waiting for him. Katsuki remembers how much the fucking Ferris Wheel had
cost and steels himself.

“Babe, they’ll kill me,” Katsuki presses.

“I’ll protect you,” Izuku hushes over the shell of his ear; Katsuki shivers.

“No, seriously, they’ll kill me,” Katsuki says and Izuku huffs.

“We can take ‘em,” Izuku says, soft and dreamy. God, Katsuki can’t help his stupid grin. “I
have cash. We don’t even have to go home; we can just leave. Find a love hotel and hide.
They’ll never find us.”
It sounds so fucking good. Izuku, all to himself, in a place where they’re guaranteed not to
get walked in on. Katsuki clings to his reminders: the fireworks, the crepes, the millions of
yen poured into this thing. He takes Izuku's shoulders and pushes him away gently.

“You wanna go to this surprise party,” Katsuki says, firmly. “Trust me.”

Izuku glares at him. He grinds his thigh against Katsuki’s crotch and fuck! The pleasure
ripples through him.

“What I want ,” Izuku counters, rubbing against him rhythmically, “is to rent a love hotel.”

Katsuki shudders. God, it feels so fucking good. Izuku leans in again, skimming kisses up
Katsuki’s throat and nibbling at his earlobe.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes. “Kacchan, it doesn’t have to be a love hotel. It can be a regular
one if you want, I just— I just wanna be alone. I just wanna be with you.”

God. Katsuki screws his face up in determination. Stay strong, stay fucking strong.

“Me too,” he confesses, voice tight. He can feel Izuku’s lips stretch into a grin against his
neck.

“I know it’s fast,” Izuku continues softly. And there’s wet, open-mouthed kiss to Katsuki’s
jugular. “But Kacchan— Kacchan, I really want you to fuck me.”

Fuck! Katsuki’s groan shudders out of him. Oh my god it’s like he’s trying to murder him.
Izuku is offering him everything, everything he’s ever wanted. So much for having the easy
job. How the fuck is he supposed to say no to that? Katsuki grips Izuku’s hips so hard that he
whimpers.

“That… sounds…” Katsuki says, each word forced and pained. “Really, really good.”

Izuku reels back to look at him. His smile is like the sunrise, brilliant and sweet and
promising everything. “Yeah?”

Katsuki closes his eyes. It feels like the cruelest thing in the world to deny Izuku right now,
but he forces himself to say it.

“We have to go to the surprise party first,” he grits out. Izuku makes a pitiful sound, and
Katsuki seizes his pouting face in his hands, fixing him with a fierce look. “Izuku. Listen to
me. After this party I’m going to give you everything you want, alright? We can do all of it.
We can spend all day tomorrow in a love hotel if you want. Just— just please. Let me take
you to this party first.”

Izuku stills. He searches Katsuki’s face for a long, drawn out moment. Katsuki’s swallow is
thick and dry. He can’t fucking believe he’s turning down sex to go spend time with the
extras, but well, there it is. Izuku must be thinking along the same lines, because he smiles at
him sweetly.
 “Oh, Kacchan,” he says, shaking his head fondly. He caresses Katsuki’s cheek, something
dark and almost dangerous glimmering in his gaze. A chill races up Katsuki’s spine as Izuku
tsks. “Kacchan, what did you do?”

Chapter End Notes

kacchan would never do it, but imagining the AU where he was successfully seduced by
izuku cracks me the fuck up. like just all of class 1-A standing around this whole
fucking carnival they set up with no birthday boy to be found like "are you kidding me
rn. someone better have died or something" and its just. cuts to bkdk going at it like
animals.

hehe i hope you enjoyed!! please please tell me your favorite part in the comments down
below, they really keep me motivated to keep writing!! <3 <3 <3 i hope this was fun for
everyone, sorry they didn't make it to the carnival party yet alskdjf thank you so much
for reading!!

come say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr!! love ya!!

edit: HANODE DREW BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL ART FOR THIS FIC AND I
HAVENT STOPPED SMILING SINCE GO LOOK AND ENJOY HOW BEAUTIFUL
IT IS THANK YOU SO MUCH HANO ILY <3 <3 <3

(this fic now has gorgeous beautiful wonderful art by hanode!! please take a look hehe)
 the greatest first date of all time (part two)
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Katsuki is fucking euphoric.

He didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. It feels like he has the sun clutched in his
ribcage, warmth permeating his body and sunlight shining out his skin. Izuku loves him, he
loves him. Katsuki can’t stop grinning as they pack up their beach towels. He feels like he
could do anything: run a marathon, fly to the moon, take on a thousand All For Ones. Izuku
loves him. Katsuki feels fucking invincible.

They gather up the cooler, umbrella, and beach bag and sprint across the sand, chasing each
other as they race back to Izuku’s house. Katsuki has five seconds to enjoy taking the lead
before Izuku ignites One For All and shoots ahead. Katsuki bellows that he’s fucking
cheating again, but Izuku only laughs. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Katsuki loves the thrill of
the chase. He hopes he’s on Izuku’s heels for the rest of their lives.

Their sandals slap against the concrete as they skid onto Izuku’s street, breathless and
panting. Izuku shrieks when Katsuki’s hand shoots out, skimming over his back as he tries to
catch him.

“No!” he cries, fumbling to hang onto the cooler. “I’ll trip!”

They burst through the door. The chill of the AC is sharp and invigorating on Katsuki’s still-
damp skin. Izuku calls for his mom, but Katsuki knows she’s already at the school. The
carnival, he corrects in his mind. Katsuki’s stomach churns. Fuck this is it, everything he’s
been working towards for weeks. Why the hell is he so nervous all of a sudden? He shakes it
off quickly as he deposits the beach bag and umbrella in the laundry room.

He checks his phone and his heart lurches. Shit. The idiots are going to fucking murder him.
Their first call was over a half an hour ago now and they still need to shower and change.
Katsuki races up the stairs and runs into Izuku, hovering outside the bathroom, eyes bright
with mischief.

“Kacchan,” he says, sweet and coy. His hands are clasped behind his back like he’s trying to
be cute or some shit. “We’d be faster if we showered together.”

Katsuki scoffs. As if. But he can’t help imagining it anyway. Naked Izuku, all soapy and
sweet smelling; his body warm and wet and wanting. Katsuki shivers. God, it sounds so
fucking good. Izuku really is set on testing Katsuki’s willpower today, isn’t he? Katsuki
straightens his spine, stepping forward and looming into his space. Izuku bats his eyelashes
up at him, so deceptively innocent looking.

“Is that what you think?” Katsuki grouses.

Izuku’s giggling is shrill. He grabs Katsuki’s biceps and gives them a nice squeeze.

“I’ll be good,” he says, softly. His gaze rakes over Katsuki’s body. “I promise.”

He’s so full of shit. He’s not even being good right now. Katsuki knows he shouldn’t, but he
can’t resist kissing his naughty little mouth. And fuck it’s just so mind-shatteringly good. The
soft give of Izuku’s lips, the sweet swipe of his tongue. Katsuki has no idea how he’s lived
without Izuku’s kisses for so long; they’re a necessary sustenance, fueling the very life inside
Katsuki’s soul.

It’s this thought that has Katsuki kissing him deeper. He needs this, he needs him . Katsuki
cards a hand through his wild, salt-crusted curls, pressing Izuku up against the wall. Izuku
makes a pleased noise as he licks into Katsuki’s mouth greedily. His arms are so warm as
they wrap around Katsuki and it’s all too easy to get lost in. Every soft suction sound, every
tiny whimper, the sensation of skin sliding against skin. Everywhere they touch feels like
liquid fire.

Izuku’s phone vibrates the pocket of his swim trunks and Katsuki jolts. God, the extras must
be getting desperate if they’re calling Izuku . Katsuki groans, aggrieved.

Izuku tsks.

“Your fault,” Izuku says, absolutely merciless. His nails skim down Katsuki’s back and
Katsuki breaks into goosebumps. “You could’ve had me already if you hadn’t gone
overboard.”

Had me. God fucking dammit, Katsuki’s cock throbs in his swim suit. No, no stay cool, stay
fucking cool. Katsuki forces himself to scoff. His hand fists in Izuku’s curls, yanking his
head back meanly.

“Fuckin’ excuse me for loving you,” he grouses. Izuku’s squeal is so happy that Katsuki can’t
help kissing it out of his mouth, tasting his joy for himself. God, Katsuki is so fucking weak
him. Their mouths smack obscenely in the quiet of the hall.

“I love you,” Izuku hushes into his mouth, nails raking down Katsuki’s back and tilting his
face so Katsuki can kiss him deeper. “I love you so much. I love you.”

He loves him. What else matters? How could Katsuki possibly care about anything else when
he has this? He cups Izuku’s precious face in his hands and returns his kisses reverently.

“I’ll shower fast,” Katsuki promises and Izuku huffs, clearly disappointed. He hangs onto
Katsuki’s wrists with a truly pitiful expression.

“Can I at least watch?” he pleads.

“Zu.”

“What? Mom isn’t home!”

Katsuki shoves him off, pointing a warning finger at him when Izuku pouts. He half-expects
Izuku to try to follow him into the bathroom, but thankfully he doesn’t try. He shuts the door
behind him, pressing himself up against the wood, still breathing hard from their make out
session. Fuck, that was too close. He needs to stay on fucking task. The goddamn carnival,
remember?

Katsuki catches sight of himself in the mirror: face red, lips kiss flushed and shiny with spit,
his irises are a thin red line around his pupils as his chest heaves. Ha. Haha. His grin is
massive and dopey-looking and he doesn’t even care. Katsuki touches his swollen lips with
shaking fingers like he can feel whatever of Izuku lingers there. Izuku loves him. Oh my god.
Katsuki can’t believe this is his fucking life.

He showers as fast as he can. Just get through it, just get through it— first they’ll go to the
party and then— Katsuki’s stomach lurches painfully. Is Izuku serious about the love hotel?
Izuku’s soft, dreamy voice floats back to him. Kacchan, I really want you to fuck me.
Katsuki’s arousal rolls through him, hot and heavy. No, no, stop getting hard! They’re never
getting out of here if he can’t get his stupid dick under control. He cranks the faucet over to
the right, dousing himself in icy water.

Izuku is still standing outside the door when Katsuki exits, waiting to take his place in the
shower. Izuku gives Katsuki’s dripping body a lingering once over, dragging his teeth over
his bottom lip as he does. God damn him. He just can’t make this easy on Katsuki, can he?
Izuku giggles as Katsuki all but sprints into Izuku’s bedroom to change.

Okay, okay fucking focus. Katsuki has to shake himself out of it. He has picked his outfit for
tonight carefully. The black cargo pants he’s chosen are only a little baggy and he throws on a
thick white belt to make it pop. The tank top he’s selected is also black and tight, cupping the
curves of his chest and cinching around his waist.

Katsuki checks himself out in the mirror and jolts. Jesus Christ, Izuku. The goddamn menace
has given him a massive fucking hickey. Bright, and red, and fresh right at the juncture where
his neck meets his shoulder. Katsuki stoops in to get a better look at it and holy shit. He can
actually see the little pin pricks where Izuku’s canines had sunk into him. A prickle creeps up
Katsuki’s pine as he touches it with careful, reverent fingers.

He loves me, he thinks. The evidence is written on his skin, painted in bruises and bitemarks.
God, it’s too much. Who knew Izuku was so fucking horny? Has he always been like this?
But on second thought, Katsuki can’t be that surprised. Izuku has always been sort of a freak.
Overenthusiastic, easily excited. Katsuki should have known all that energy would translate
into being passionate in the bedroom. A chill ripples through Katsuki. The bedroom. He still
can’t quite wrap his mind around it. It’s all real. Izuku is fucking perfect for him and he’s his
.

He raids Izuku’s closet until he finds a white button-up big enough to layer over his tank. The
collar should be tall enough to cover the fucking hickey Izuku gave him. He leaves the front
unbuttoned and rolls the sleeves up to his elbow. He checks himself again and— sigh, well
it’ll have to do. There’s no way he can show up with a fresh hickey visible. God knows he’s
already on thin ice for running so late. Speaking of, he should really call the idiots back to let
them know they’re on their way.
But then Izuku bursts in, entirely naked, with only a towel slung low on his hips. Oh my god.
Katsuki’s knees wobble; his brain short circuits. He’s no more naked than he was at the
beach, but somehow the towel gives Izuku a domestic air that makes all the difference.
Katsuki can’t help drinking it all in. Izuku is so fucking sculpted, thick with muscle and
spiderwebbed with scar-tissue. He has a thousand freckles Katsuki hasn’t kissed yet and
suddenly that feels like an outrage.

You could’ve had me already if you hadn’t gone overboard. Katsuki is so fucking stupid. He’s
the dumbest man alive for going all out with this birthday party. Fuck the carnival, fuck all
their friends. All they needed was each other. A water droplet rolls down Izuku’s jawline,
trailing down the column of his unblemished throat. That’s hardly fair, Katsuki thinks. If
Katsuki has a hickey, then Izuku should have one too. Katsuki’s mouth waters in
anticipation.

Izuku’s grin is positively wicked.

“Keep looking at me like that and we’re not making it to that party,” he warns, tone warm
and teasing.

Ugh. Right. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to turn away. He’s never hated
carnivals so much in his whole fucking life. Which reminds him. He stoops down and
retrieves Izuku’s birthday present from his overnight bag.

“Here, put this on,” he says, chucking the package at him. Izuku’s towel drops as he fumbles
to catch it and Katsuki is careful not to make eye contact with his dick.

Izuku yanks a pair of boxers before sitting on the bed and opening it. The dress shirt is
shimmery and viridian; Izuku oohs at the sight of it.

“Oh Kacchan,” he breathes, feeling the fabric with his fingers. Katsuki smirks; he knows it’s
soft. “Kacchan, it’s so beautiful! I love it.”

Good. He needs better clothes. God knows he’d wear nothing but All Might merch and too
literal tees if left to his own devices. Izuku rubs the fabric between his thumbs and the
glimmer moves with his fingers.

“I hope you didn’t spend too much money on this,” Izuku says, softly.

There’s a roil of embarrassment. Fuck, Izuku is going to murder him when he sees the
goddamn carnival . Katsuki wonders if he’s masterminded his way into his own demise.

“Jesus, relax, it’s from my parents’ company,” Katsuki scoffs. He had triple checked to make
sure it was the exact shade of green as his eyes.

Izuku beams at him. “Thank you.”

Underneath the shirt is a pair of black jeans and Izuku takes a moment to appreciate those
too. Katsuki really shouldn’t, but he watches attentively as Izuku dresses. The way his abs
ripple when he stands, the flex of his shoulders as he pulls the shirt over his head, how his ass
jiggles as he wiggles into those jeans. Mine, mine, all mine . Izuku must have bulked up again
because the jeans just barely fit. Izuku shoots him a look over his shoulder.

“Kacchan just wanted to see my ass in these,” he accuses.

And who can fucking blame Katsuki for that? Izuku’s ass is to fucking die for. Katsuki steps
forward to slide his arms around his waist.

“You’re hot as fuck,” Katsuki tells him, mouthing at his neck. He really, really wants to give
Izuku a hickey to match his own, but knows he’ll have to wait. Izuku’s breath hitches as
Katsuki nibbles on him softly, a teaser of what’s to come. “Can’t fucking believe you didn’t
think you were hot enough for me.”

Izuku giggles, craning to give Katsuki more room to work. “Kacchan. I’ve bathed you before
and you didn’t get hard.”

Katsuki jolts, shooting Izuku a hard look.

“What— after my fucking panic attack?” he snaps. He gives Izuku a punishing squeeze.

Izuku hums like he thinks it's a poor excuse and Katsuki growls.

“You coulda been sittin’ on it and I wouldn’t have gotten hard,” he says, nipping Izuku’s
earlobe just hard enough to hurt. Izuku huffs like that’s the wrong answer so Katsuki
continues more earnestly, “I fuckin’— I thought I was gonna fuckin’ die that day, Zu.”

“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku sighs, patting his arm to soothe him. Fuck, this isn’t what Katsuki
wants to be making him feel today. Katsuki buries his face in the crook of his shoulder.

“It wasn’t you ,” Katsuki presses. He doesn’t like the mournful atmosphere creeping in so he
blurts out, “I’ve been tuckin’ my dick into my pants for over a year hidin’ that shit from
you.”

It’s Izuku’s turn to jolt. He whirls in Katsuki’s arms and outright glares at him.

“Kacchan!” he scolds. “ Why?”

Katsuki sputters. What the fuck, is he in trouble right now?

“I was tryina be respectful!” Katsuki defends.

“Well, don’t be!” Izuku cries. He slaps his hands on both sides of Katsuki’s face as he shakes
him. “Don’t be respectful. I want all of it!” He tsks and looks genuinely pissed. “Kacchan, I
woulda done something about it, if I’d known!”

“Well I know that now!” Katsuki snaps, heating with embarrassment. God, he’s really wasted
so much time. All these months he’s spent agonizing, torturing himself over his guilt, when
he could have been loving Izuku instead. Katsuki knocks their foreheads together with a sigh.
And now he’s gonna waste more time at the godforsaken carnival.
Izuku seems to sense his distress because he softens. He nuzzles their noses together and
coos.

“My Kacchan is too good. Too sweet,” he says. He pecks his lips gently and continues in a
murmur, “Don’t do it again. I wanna feel it when I make you hard.”

Katsuki simmers with arousal. His fingers tighten on Izuku’s waist— but then Izuku’s phone
buzzes again, loud and harsh in his discarded swim trunks on the floor. Katsuki groans.

“I should really get that,” Katsuki admits and Izuku giggles. He kisses Katsuki’s cheekbone,
the side of his nose, his jaw.

“If you must,” Izuku sighs.

Katsuki detangles from Izuku reluctantly and Izuku moves to examine himself in the mirror,
smoothing over his new shirt and preening as he admires himself. Katsuki fishes the phone
out of his discarded swim trunks and picks up.

“YES I’M FUCKING CALLING HIM AGAIN I DONT GIVE A FUCK—” Katsuki reels
back as Kaminari screeches right in his ear. Katsuki must make some sort of sound in
surprise because then Kaminari gasps. “Oh my god, hello? Midoriya?”

“Hey,” Katsuki says and Kaminari flips on a dime.

“YOU!” he rages. Katsuki holds the phone a foot away from his face as Kaminari roars,
“What the hell has gotten into you? Where the fuck are you guys? You had one job, one
fucking job—”

“Jesus, relax, we’re on our way,” Katsuki snaps. Katsuki watches Izuku fluff his hair in the
mirror. “We were swimming.”

“ Swimming? ” Kaminari repeats it like it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. He garbles his
words unintelligibly for several seconds before managing, “I can’t believe— You picked the
one activity where you wouldn’t have your fucking phone on you?”

Well. Katsuki sends Izuku another glance. It would have been a perfectly fine plan if Izuku
hadn’t tried to jump on his dick.

“Sorry,” he says, not feeling particularly sorry at all. “Lost track of time.”

Kamanari’s sigh is deeply aggrieved.

“ Just get him over here, ” he snaps. “We’re all waiting and you— ugh!”

The call disconnects suddenly. Izuku shoots him a look over his shoulder, eyes glittering with
amusement.

“Was that Uraraka-san?” he asks.

“Dunce Face,” Katsuki corrects and Izuku laughs. He pads over to him and god he’s a vision.
All shimmery green and smiling. Katsuki should dress him more often if it makes him look
this good. Izuku loops his arms around Katsuki’s waist.

“You’re in trouble,” Izuku teases.

“And who’s fuckin’ fault is that?” Katsuki demands. He drops a kiss to the top of his head
anyway. Izuku’s crooked fingers hook through Katsuki’s belt loops as he grins.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks, suddenly sounding soft. He wets his lips and glances up at him with
wide, uncertain eyes. At Katsuki’s hum he continues, “You’re— you’re my boyfriend,
right?”

Katsuki feels a bloom of affection. But he also sort of wants to throttle him. He gives Izuku’s
cheek a punishing pinch.

“I fuckin’ better be,” he grumbles.

Izuku shakes out of his hold, giggling. His eyes have never been brighter, his smile never
happier. He cups Katsuki’s face in his hands and drinks him in like he’s seeing him for the
first time.

“My boyfriend,” Izuku says, dreamily. He smooths his thumbs down Katsuki’s face with a
sigh. “My boyfriend is so handsome.”

Katsuki scoffs gently. He nudges Izuku with his knee. “ My boyfriend’s better looking.”

Izuku’s grin is so wide it’s almost goofy looking. Katsuki kisses it off his face and Izuku
sighs, leaning into him heavily.

“Does that make today a date?” Izuku asks, still smushed against his mouth.

“Yes,” Katsuki answers. He seizes Izuku’s face in his hands. “The greatest first date of all
time.”

Izuku’s giggling is happy and high-pitched. He lets Katsuki smother him for a moment, but
then he hangs his head, knocking his forehead into Katsuki’s collarbone with a pained sound.

“What?” Katsuki demands. His heart rate spikes. Did he do something wrong? He’s had
Izuku as his boyfriend for all of four seconds and he’s already somehow fucked it up. He tilts
Izuku to look up at him, and Izuku shakes his head, smiling at Katsuki fondly.

“Not you, love,” Izuku answers, and Katsuki feels a bright chill at the endearment. Izuku’s
mouth squirms in embarrassment. “Just— Uraraka-san is going to give me so much shit.”

Ha. Katsuki grins. So Izuku’s friends had known too. Wait. Fuck, that reminds him. The
dread is instant and writhing like a thousand snakes slithering in his gut. Oh god, Kaminari
and the others are going to have a fucking field day when they find out. Katsuki’s stomach
plummets through the floor when he thinks of all the teasing, the I told you sos, and ribbing.
“Fuck,” he says, tilting his head back and grimacing at the ceiling. This night is going to be
absolutely miserable. “Yeah. They’re never gonna let me live this shit down either.”

Izuku coos and pets his face, drawing him back down for a kiss.

“We don’t have to tell them tonight,” Izuku offers.

Katsuki hates that he’s relieved, but it honestly might be for the best. Kaminari might actually
strangle him if he finds out they’re late because Katsuki could barely keep his dick in his
pants.

“Just for tonight,” Katsuki agrees. He captures him in a kiss, adding lowly, “I don’t wanna
hide you.”

Izuku makes a sweet, pleased sound.

“I don’t wanna hide you either,” he says. “You’re mine.”

The surge of possessiveness is dark and arousing. Okay, fuck they really gotta get out of here.
Katsuki doesn’t know how much more of this teasing he can fucking take before he snaps
and just takes Izuku right here and now. Katsuki forces himself to check the time and
blanches.

“We gotta hurry,” he says. He takes Izuku’s hand, tugging him along. “They’re going to
fucking kill me.”

They walk to the school hand-in-hand. Izuku swings their arms like they’re fucking children
or something, and Katsuki pretends to only be tolerating it. Secretly though, he’s so happy he
could skip all the way back to UA. Izuku is his boyfriend; he loves him. How the fuck did
Katsuki get so lucky? He swoops in and kisses Izuku’s cheek then, just because he can, and
Izuku preens. They get a few dirty looks from an elderly couple passing by, but Izuku’s
giggling makes it worth it.

Izuku is still giggling when the Ferris Wheel comes into view, sparkling with lights as it
peeks over the horizon and already spinning. Katsuki’s stomach drops at the sight of it. Fuck,
didn’t Kaminari say it was a mini Ferris wheel? This thing has gotta be over thirty feet tall!
Izuku squints at it like he can’t quite be sure what he’s seeing. Strangers in the street are also
looking and pointing. One child won’t stop gaping in open awe. Katsuki schools himself into
a neutral expression.

“What the hell?” Izuku asks, sounding amused. He sends Katsuki a curious look. “Is there a
festival today?”

Well. Kind of. Uraraka has been calling today Izu-fest as a joke. Katsuki hates the word; it
sounds like an infection or something.

“I dunno,” he says, evasively.

Izuku stares at him. He glances at the Ferris Wheel then back at Katsuki as he scoffs lightly.
“Kacchan,” he says, imploring. “Are you sure?”

Fuck, fuck. Katsuki roils with nerves suddenly. Embarrassment crawls up his neck and
prickles at his cheeks. What the fuck was he thinking? This is totally overboard. He’s had
Izuku as a boyfriend for all of five minutes and he’s going to scare him off immediately with
this over-the-top gesture. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe they can still turn around and find
that love hotel; Izuku wouldn’t mind. He trudges forward anyway. The closer they get, the
more attractions peek up over the horizon: the spinning carousel, a giant rocking boat, the
bouncy castle. They’re still three blocks away, but there’s no denying that everything is
coming from campus grounds.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, and his tone is cool and dangerous. Fuck, Katsuki is totally dead,
isn’t he? “Kacchan, what the hell is this.”

It’s not a question. He almost sounds angry. Izuku’s grip on Katsuki’s hand suddenly feels
like a threat. What the fuck is Katsuki supposed to say?

“I dunno,” Katsuki isn’t the least bit convincing and he curses himself for it. Izuku looks like
he has more to say, but at that moment a drone show flickers to life above their heads.
Buzzing, brightly colored robots spelling out: Happy Birthday Midoriya! in flashing green
lights. Izuku stops short and stares.

“Kacchan!” he cries. He breaks their hand-hold to clutch at his hair. “What are— What? ”

Katsuki’s sigh is half a growl.

“They were supposed to do that after you got there,” Katsuki mutters sourly.

Izuku gapes. He chokes. He hunches over, burying his face in his palms, and for a moment
Katsuki thinks he’s crying. And then Izuku rounds on him, swatting his shoulder several
times in a row.

“Ow! Hey! What the—” Katsuki says, raising his arms to defend himself, but the barrage
doesn’t stop. “Izuku!”

Izuku’s eyes are shiny with rage as he smacks him. “For your birthday, we went on a hike! ”

“I like hikes!” Katsuki protests, but Izuku shakes his head furiously. His muttering is rapid-
fire and barely intelligible. The drones scatter and reform themselves into an imitation of
Izuku’s bunny-hood above them. Izuku only stops his assault to drag his hands over his face
and groan.

“How much money did you spend on this?” Izuku demands, gesturing to the sky angrily.
He’s red all the way to the roots of his hair, freckles consumed in the color of his cheeks.

“I dunno!” Katsuki says honestly. Uraraka was incharge of the budget, not him. “It wasn’t
just me! It was the extras— we pooled our money together and they went fuckin’ crazy!”

“And you let them?” Izuku presses, scowling furiously.

“What?” Katsuki cries, throwing his hands in the air. “I love you!”

It’s his last defense. Izuku takes in a steadying breath through his nose, and Katsuki can tell
he’s fighting not to smile. Izuku shakes his head over and over again. And then breaks into a
giddy grin. Katsuki has one moment to think he’s safe before the smile wobbles and Izuku is
groaning wordlessly. He hangs his head again like he just can’t accept it. He swivels around,
seizing Katsuki’s shoulders with sudden fury.

“You threw me a fucking carnival before asking me out?!” he demands, shaking Katsuki
vigorously.

Well. It sounds stupid when he puts it like that. Katsuki chokes on his words as Izuku keeps
shaking him, muttering to himself frantically. God, okay well. It was nice dating Izuku while
it lasted. Katsuki supposes he should be grateful for the happiest fifteen minutes of his life.
He’s going to find a bridge to jump off now. No, stop it, focus! They have to get to that party.
Katsuki latches onto Izuku’s wrists, holding him still as he fixes him with a stern look.

“We threw you a carnival,” Katsuki corrects, squeezing his arms hard. “We did. Okay? Class
3-A threw you a carnival and if you don’t like it, they’re all gonna be pissed.”

“ Like it? ” Izuku repeats. Izuku wrenches out of his grip, releasing Katsuki and taking three
steps back. He scoffs. He hunches over his knees, breathing hard. And then he laughs. It’s
wheezy and wobbly, but it’s a laugh dammit. At last, Katsuki sees a glimmer of victory.
Izuku cards a hand through his hair as he shakes his head in disbelief. “ Kacchan .”

Izuku seizes him again. And even though they’re in public, with several people openly
staring at them for their outburst, Izuku reels him in and kisses him square on the mouth.

Oh. Warmth blooms in Katsuki’s chest; Katsuki’s belly roars to life with butterflies. Katsuki
throws his arms around him and kisses him back, everyone else be damned. It’s messy and
their teeth clack through their grins, but it’s real and it’s them. Izuku still loves him. Thank
god.

“You’re so crazy,” Izuku whispers, words smeared between kisses. A hand fists in Katsuki’s
hair. “You’re so fucking crazy.”

“Love you,” Katsuki murmurs back. “Happy Birthday.”

Izuku’s laughter is near-hysterical. He’s still shaking his head like he can’t believe it, but he’s
smiling. Tears are sparkling in his eyes.

“We’re not getting out of this thing early, are we?” Izuku asks, voice cracking.

“No, love,” Katsuki says, thumbing over Izuku’s soft cheek. “No, we aren’t.”
The carnival is absolutely gorgeous. Just about everything is glittering with fairy lights. The
canopies overhanging the food trucks, vendors, and games are a pristine white and heaped
with dozens of bouquets. Red roses, golden sunflowers, pops of daisies, all intertwined with
fairy lights and glowing. The attractions sparkle too, lit up from within and surrounded by
spotlights. There are hired hands running the rides and a few of the games too, all in
matching red vests and ties. The place is bustling; the entire school must have shown up and
more. It must have been mistaken for a proper carnival because there are parents Katsuki
doesn’t recognize and gaggles of children running around and laughing.

Izuku bursts into tears when all their friends jump out at him. He holds a hand over his heart,
blubbering his thanks and praises. He’s all but dragged out of Katsuki’s arms as he’s passed
around for hugs and cheek-kisses. On any other day, Katsuki might be jealous, but Izuku is
his now. Katsuki knows he’ll come back to him. Besides, the idiots deserve it after going all
out like this. He watches Izuku dab his eyes as Momo excitedly tells him about the flower
arrangements.

“It’s gorgeous,” Izuku assures her, looking around in awe. “I can’t believe— you did this all
for me?”

There’s a loud chorus of yes! Several of their friends stare at Izuku like he’s an idiot, and
Katsuki can’t help but grin. Mina ruffles Izuku’s hair affectionately and Kaminari pats his
back with a look of exasperation.

“Midoriya-kun!” Mina cries. “Of course it’s all for you! We love you!”

The sentiment is echoed all around and they swarm in, all of class 3-A crushing together as
they smother Izuku in a giant group hug. Sero oofs in complaint, and Shinsou tries to wriggle
his way out of it, but Kaminari catches him, yanking him even closer. Katsuki stands back
and watches Izuku laugh, beaming so beautifully like the prize jewel in an overly affectionate
pile of bodies. Ugh, Katsuki is so fucking lame for this, but his heart softens at the sight.

“You guys are too much,” Izuku sobs as they release him. Jirou passes him a box of tissues
and he wipes his eyes. “I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”

Everyone bursts out laughing.

“HA!”

“Too late.”

“Way too late for that, Midoriya,” Kirishima says. He grins, looping an arm around his
shoulders and jostling him good-naturedly.

“You’re worth the effort, Midoriya-kun!” Iida declares with his chest puffed out. Izuku gives
him another hug and Uraraka tugs on Izuku’s sleeve until he hugs her too.
Katsuki’s insides are warm and gooey with affection. He did it, he got him here. Katsuki
takes a look around and his stomach swoops. Fuck, okay this party is actually sort of insane.
The Ferris Wheel sparkles as it spins, and Eri and Kota are already making the bouncy castle
dance as they jump through it. The drones swirl above their heads, shaping into a green
bunny hopping along the skyline. First years Katsuki doesn’t recognize ooh and awe at it in
delight. He can see All Might, Aizawa, and their parents in the little seating area by the food
trucks, all watching on with fond expressions on their faces.

Far to the left is an end table, laden with junk food and a covered birthday cake. Katsuki’s
stomach growls at the sight of it, suddenly very aware he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. And—
he remembers with a jolt— neither has Izuku. Fuck, that’s right he’d been making out with
him instead of fucking feeding him. Katsuki curses himself as he surges through the swarm
of their friends. He shoves past Sero as he clamps a hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“Alright, enough,” Katsuki says, not sounding nearly as irritated as he intended to. Izuku
absolutely glows when he sees Katsuki, easily slipping out of Uraraka’s embrace and
throwing himself at Katsuki instead. Katsuki wraps an arm around his shoulders, and lets
Izuku nuzzle into his pec. “Let him eat, he’s fucking starving.”

As if on cue, Izuku’s stomach rumbles and their friends laugh.

“Jeez, you forget to feed him or what?” Sero quips.

Ugh. Yes . Katsuki skewers him with a glare anyway and Uraraka shakes her head like he’s
disappointed her. Izuku’s gaze snaps over to Sero, frowning.

“It’s not Kacchan’s fault!” he defends. “It was me, I distracted him.”

“I bet you did,” Kaminari mutters, and all their friends titter.

Katsuki barely hears it. He’s too busy admiring Izuku as he fixes the collar of Katsuki’s shirt
for him. The way his curls frame his sweet face, the tiny crease as his brow pinches, the
kissable freckles on his cheeks.

My boyfriend, Katsuki realizes with a dangerously pleased rush. His hand smooths down
Izuku’s back as the possessiveness purrs in his chest.

“There’s a takoyaki truck,” Katsuki tells him, hand stopping to cup his waist.

Izuku straightens, brightening immediately. “Really? I love takoyaki!”

Katsuki grins. “Yeah, I know.”

Their friends exchange significant glances all around them. Kaminari makes a little huh
sound, gaze whipping over to Kirishima, but he only shrugs. Katsuki pays them no mind. He
keeps his arm around Izuku as he guides him to the food truck, where a cluster of second-
years are already waiting in line. There’s a chorus of Midoriya-senpai! And Happy Birthday!
Izuku accepts their congratulations warmly. They’re all too happy to let him order first. Holy
shit, the food smells fucking amazing. Katsuki’s stomach rumbles so hard he swears he feels
it rippling through his flesh.

Their food comes out fast and Izuku spears one fluffy ball with a chopstick as they walk over
to the seating area. He feeds it to him, giggling when Katsuki groans at just how fucking
good it is. Damn they should have ordered double of everything. The seating area is also
heavily decorated and Katsuki has to elbow his way through a cluster of balloons just to sit
down.

“So,” Uraraka says, sliding in to sit across from them. Only the usual suspects have followed
them over: Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Iida, and of course, Uraraka. The rest have
scattered to tackle the attractions. Katsuki can see Aoyama struggling to knock over pins with
a bowling ball at a nearby game booth. Todoroki is munching on a crepe. And Momo is
already screaming, clutching onto a laughing Jirou as the Ferris Wheel lifts them into the air.
“What the fuck took you guys so long?”

“You scared the hell out of us!” Kaminari says, hands on his hips like a lecturing mother and
there’s a murmur of agreement.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I got him here, didn’t I?”

Sero’s grin is downright wicked, leaning on Kaminari’s shoulder heavily. “We thought you
two might have run off together.”

Izuku’s face is stuffed with food as he sends Katsuki a significant glance. Katsuki almost
laughs, but manages to cover it with a scoff.

“What the fuck?” he says, hoping he sounds dismissive. He stuffs another takoyaki ball into
his mouth. “Told you we were swimming.”

Sero leans in to murmur in Kaminari’s ear, “ Likely story. ”

Iida shakes his head, folding his arms across his square chest.

“Bakugou-kun would never have run off on us,” he says, in that authoritative way of his. He
karate-chops through the air like he does when he lectures. “This party was all his idea, after
all!”

Katsuki chokes. Uraraka swivels to glare at Iida with pink, puffed-out cheeks.

“Hey!” she protests. “Not all his idea. Everyone helped!”

There’s a chorus of unconvinced noises. Izuku is giving Katsuki a very dangerous look;
Katsuki can’t chug down water fast enough.

“The fuck are you saying, Glasses,” Katsuki says, hoarsely. “We all helped. You were one-
third of the fucking budget.”

Iida shakes his head again and Kaminari shrugs, frowning in a well you know sort of way.
“Ehh, he’s kinda right,” Kaminari admits. He begins to list on his fingers. “You picked the
food, the cake, the ice cream—“

“—the flowers, the snacks, the rides,” Mina adds. Her fluffy pink curls bob as turns to Izuku.
“We were going to get you one of those drop-tower thingies, but he said those make you
throw up.”

Uraraka makes a disgruntled noise and Mina elbows her playfully. Izuku looks between all of
them, eyes strangely glassy. He glances at the flowers at the center of the table and reaches
out, thumbing at a rose absentmindedly.

“Really?” he asks, softly.

Everyone is staring at Izuku meaningfully and nodding. God, Katsuki is so red he’d blend
right in with the lights on the swinging boat ride. He glares at Iida for outing him like this,
but Iida is too busy beaming at Izuku to notice.

“He was the one who gathered us together,” Iida adds, chest puffing out in…. pride? What
the fuck is going on? Heat steams off the back of Katsuki’s neck and the tips of his ears.
Uraraka sighs in defeat.

“It was his idea,” she adds, somewhat ruefully. “But we couldn’t have done it without
everyone!”

There’s the sound of consensus. Izuku turns in his seat, knee digging into Katsuki’s thigh as
he faces him, and oh, of course he’s tearing up again. Katsuki tsks, thumbing at Izuku’s damp
cheeks gently.

“Don’t get all mushy on me,” Katsuki lectures with no heat.

Izuku sniffles anyway. His smile is so sweet that something in Katsuki’s chest breaks with it.
Izuku shakes his head, nuzzling into Katsuki’s fingers as he does.

“You’re crazy,” Izuku says softly and somehow Katsuki knows that means I love you . His
cheek is so soft under his hand. Izuku’s gaze is wide and green as a lagoon ready to swallow
Katsuki whole.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, strangely raspy. “Maybe.”

Sero clears his throat loudly and Katsuki jumps. Mina smacks him, hissing something about
ruining the moment, but it’s too late. Katsuki clears his throat as he resumes scarfing down
his meal. God, acting cool in front of all their friends is proving to be harder than Katsuki
realized. He tries to shake himself out of it. Just a few more hours, and then Katsuki will have
Izuku all to himself.

In a love hotel, Katsuki remembers with a roll of heat. Fuck, fuck, no he can’t afford to think
about that now. Under the table, Izuku’s hand sneaks into his lap, squeezing Katsuki’s thigh
like he’s thinking the exact same thing.
The idiot brigade wants to do all the rides right away, but Katsuki refuses to entertain the idea
until Izuku’s stomach settles so they tackle some games first. Ring toss sucks, but it is sort of
funny when Kaminari’s shot is so bad that it deflects off the backerboard and almost hits
Uraraka instead. There’s a balloon-popping dart game that Iida is shockingly excellent at.
And it’s pretty hard to fuck up bowling. Kaminari and Kirishima beat at their chests and hype
each other up before doing the High Striker, but neither of them manage to hit the bell. Mina
coos and kisses Kirishima in consolation, but Kaminari has nothing to do but pout.

“Aw, baby,” Sero says, smushing Kaminari’s cheeks in his hands. “You wanna kiss too?”

He makes obnoxious smacking noises with his mouth he leans in and Kaminari shrieks.

“Dude! That was one time!” he cries, wriggling out of his grip.

Izuku laughs with the others, looping his arm through Katsuki’s and leaning his head on his
shoulder. He’s been unusually quiet tonight, seeming happy just to watch the chaos unfold
and giggle along. Katsuki nudges him with his elbow.

“You gonna cheat tryina win this?” he asks, gesturing to the High Striker. Izuku purses his
lips, amused.

“I don’t wanna break it, Kacchan,” he scolds. But then he leans back, his eyes dragging up
Katsuki’s form as he chews on his bottom lip. “I wanna see you try though.”

Oh. Katsuki shivers. Right, sure whatever. He doesn’t know why there’s a coil of nerves in
his gut. Of course he can win this. He’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki. But Izuku’s gaze is dark
and challenging, and somehow Katsuki feels like it means something more. Katsuki squares
his shoulders.

“Yeah?” he goads. “Fuckin’ watch me then.”

He steps forward. The bell is high, nearly twenty feet in the air. The puck looks heavy too.
No wonder the idiots haven’t managed to hit it high enough to score. Plus Katsuki’s arm is
still a little bad from being mangled by Shigaraki— no, what the fuck, why is he making
excuses? He’s gonna do this. He’s gonna blow the nerd’s goddamn mind. He adjusts his grip
on the mallet and takes a steadying breath. He takes a step back, rolling his shoulders,
swinging—

Ding! The puck smashes into the bell and their friends burst into applause. Kaminari,
Kirishima, and Sero all tackle him, ruffling his hair and chanting beast, beast, beast. Katsuki
cackles with his victory. What the fuck was he worried about? He’s the fucking best.

He shakes off the idiots and looks for his boyfriend. Izuku stares at Katsuki like he wants to
devour him whole. Katsuki shivers. He forces himself to stand up straight.

“How’s that?” he demands.

Izuku breaks into a grin, clapping his hands and looking the very picture of innocence.
“Kacchan is amazing!”
But then he throws his arms around Katsuki’s neck, leaning in close to hush over the shell of
his ear. “That was really fucking hot.”

Shit. Not yet, not yet. Katsuki swallows thickly as he squeezes him.

Izuku also hits the bell, no One For All required, and Katsuki is so damn proud he doesn’t
even care that it makes his own hit slightly less impressive. The boys tackle Izuku too, but
Izuku only has eyes for Katsuki, glimmering with something dark and promising.

Soon, Katsuki thinks, arousal curling low in his gut.

“Deku-nii-san! Deku-nii-san!”

Eri and Kota’s little voices break through the music and commotion clearly. Eri is in the same
party dress she’d worn on her birthday last year and her cheeks are flushed with exertion. She
latches onto Izuku’s hand.

“This way, this way!” she says, tugging on him.

“Oh! Eri-chan,” Izuku says, startled but smiling. “It’s so good to see you! Are you enjoying
the party?”

They chatter warmly as she leads him over to the far end of the game booths. This last one is
a game of skee ball, with several little ramps to launch the palm-sized balls into rings.
Katsuki’s seen it in arcades before. Momo and Jirou are standing there waiting for them, both
with loose daisies tucked behind their ears and matching blushes.

“There you guys are,” Jirou says, as if she hadn’t been the one to run off on them first. She
jerks her head in Momo’s direction. “Yaomomo’s got a prize for you if you win this one.”

Momo nods sweetly and Eri giggles, jumping up and down excitedly. Kota is already
inspecting the game.

“This one’s easy!” he declares. There are two rows of the game set up and he begins playing,
scoring on his first go. The electric sign flickers as the points tally.

Izuku and Katsuki exchange a glance. Izuku nudges Katsuki with his shoulder playfully.

“Go on,” he says, lowering his eyelashes shyly. “Win me a prize.”

They take turns rolling balls up the ramp while their friends chatter around them. Someone
has run off to grab popcorn and Kaminari chews on it too loudly, spewing it everywhere
when he laughs at Katsuki for missing his shot. Uraraka and Iida disappear for long
moments, only to reappear with crepes in their hands. Izuku gasps.

“I want one!” he cries and Uraraka passes one over to him dutifully. It’s stuffed to the brim
with strawberries, blueberries, and cream. “Oh, I love a good crepe.”
“Yeah, we know,” Uraraka says, rolling her eyes fondly. Izuku takes a big bite and cream
dribbles down his chin. God, Katsuki just wants to lick it off of him. He shakes himself out of
it quickly, turning back to the game.

Kaminari leans on Izuku’s shoulder, holding a hand over his mouth as he whispers in his ear,
“The crepes were Kacchan’s idea too.”

Izuku giggles, shaking his head in disbelief. The look he gives Katsuki is almost stern and
Katsuki pretends to be very concentrated on making his next shot. He misses. Again.

“Damn,” Jirou says, leaning up against the game booth. “We shoulda known after how bad
you guys sucked at beer pong.”

“Should we pick another game?” Momo asks, worriedly rubbing at the webbing between her
fingers.

“No, I fuckin’ got this,” Katsuki grits. Even if technically the pipsqueak next to him has a
higher score than him. He schools himself, concentrating this time, and aims for the smallest
ring in the top corner. Thunk! Another miss. “Goddamn it.”

Eri claps for him anyway. “You can do it, Kacchan-san!”

She’s lucky she’s cute and tiny. Katsuki would have bitten her head off if she were anyone
else.

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbles. He allows Izuku to feed him a bite of his crepe, which makes
Izuku extremely giggly for some reason, and then steels himself for the next round. He
glances over at Kota, watching the way he twists his wrist. Huh. He plucks up another ball,
aims, and—

Plunk! The ball goes in. Izuku almost drops his crepe as he jumps to cheer.

“Kacchan!” he cries, encircling him in a half-hug. “You’re amazing!”

Katsuki preens. Damn right he is. Kota grumbles something about it only being one shot, but
Kaminari and Kirishima pump their fists like it’s a huge accomplishment. Izuku offers
Katsuki another bite of his crepe, and Katsuki takes it, cream oozing out the corners of his
mouth.

“That’s good,” Katsuki comments through a mouthful.

Izuku retrieves a napkin from somewhere and ushers Katsuki close, dabbing his face clean
with a strangely misty expression.

“Yeah,” he admits, quietly. “It is.”

Katsuki scores twice more before Jirou is satisfied that they’ve earned their prize. Momo
smiles as she lifts up her shirt, skin doing that eerie, reality-altering glimmer as she draws
something large and squishy from her stomach.
“Ta da!” she says, presenting it with a big, toothy grin. “Do you like it?”

Katsuki feels like he’s just been dunked in ice water. Everyone— the entire idiot brigade and
more have all stopped to stare at Izuku for his reaction. In Momo’s hands is a thick plushie,
an overly-round likeness of Katsuki in his hero costume.

“What the fuck,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku really does drop his crepe this time. He has a wild sort of greed in his eyes as he seizes
it with both hands.

“It’s—“ He gasps. “Dynamight merch.”

He says the words like they’re sacred. His eyes look ready to bug right out of his head. He
tugs at the felt spikes of the Dynamight plushies hair and Momo looks extraordinarily pleased
with herself.

“Limited edition,” Jirou adds, looping an arm around Momo’s waist. “One of a kind.”

Izuku sobs. He throws his arms around both of them before going back to admiring his prize.

“You have his costume down perfect,” he says, reverently. “And his hair— and he’s so
cute!”

There’s a round of titters. Kaminari elbows Katsuki in the ribs.

“Ya hear that?” he prods, quietly. “Thinks you’re cute.”

Katsuki could murder him. Should murder him even. They’ve all clearly planned this.
Everyone keeps glancing at Katsuki as Izuku coos and cradles the plushie to his chest. It’s so
not subtle. Goddamn meddling idiots.

“He really likes you, man!” Kirishima adds in a whisper, throwing an arm around Katsuki’s
shoulders and jostling him.

“He likes a toy,” Katsuki corrects flatly. He loves me, he amends in his head. Honestly, fuck
this. Izuku doesn’t need this shit, he has the real fuckin’ thing right here. Katsuki’s glare
could spear holes through the plushie.

“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, spinning on his heel. He holds the plushie up to Katsuki’s face in a
side-by-side comparison. “Oh he looks just like you!”

Katsuki scowls and everyone laughs. Because of course the plushie is scowling too.

“Aww, don’t you just love it?” Uraraka goads.

There’s something suspicious about her tone. Everyone is way too invested in this, Katsuki
suddenly realizes. Mina’s is bouncing from foot to foot, Kaminari and Kirishima have
matching evil grins. They’re all leaning in like they’re expecting something spectacular to
happen. Even fucking Iida looks like he’s in on it, fiddling with his glasses like he’s nervous.
“Yeah tell us,” Sero adds, grinning like a cat that just ate the canary. “Do you love it?”

Katsuki seethes. Goddamn meddling fuckers. They’re so fucking lucky Katsuki already has
his shit together. Everyone seems to hold their breath as they wait for Izuku’s answer. Izuku
is too busy admiring his plushie, oblivious to it all.

“Well?” Kaminari prods. “What do you think?”

Izuku beams.

“I love it!” he cries, snuggling it to his chest. And then he looks right at Katsuki. “I love him
so much!”

Katsuki feels the blush wash over him, warm and pleased and wonderful. Someone chokes.
Mina has the audacity to gasp. Katsuki feels fucking giddy but he forces himself to roll his
eyes.

“Fuckin’ nerd,” he scolds, reaching out to ruffle his hair. He thumbs at one curl by his ear
gently. I love you too. “Hero merch really still get you that excited? Woulda saved my ass a
lot of time if I’d known that’s all it took to impress a shitty nerd like you.”

Everyone deflates. Audible groans can be heard all around. Sero shakes his head like Katsuki
has severely disappointed him and Uraraka just looks pissed. But Izuku only laughs. He
maintains eye contact with Katsuki as he gives plush a tiny kiss and Katsuki shivers. He
knows that one was for him.

“Can I see?” Eri asks, standing on her toes as she reaches for it. Izuku passes the plush off
gladly and Eri squeezes it to her chest. Alright, maybe the toy is kind of cute. When it’s not
stealing snuggles that Katsuki is rightfully owed anyway.

Night is fully upon them once they start circling the rides. There’s lines for everything, but
well, it’s Izuku’s birthday party. Everyone is all too happy to let them cut ahead. Izuku
demands Katsuki sit next to him on everything. They hold hands until the spinning carousel’s
momentum breaks them apart. Izuku screams and clutches his stomach as the rocking boat
ride tips them up and down. Despite that, he goes on it three times in a row, laughing all the
while. Izuku’s legs are wobbly when he finally steps off.

“Ferris Wheel next?” Katsuki asks, offering an arm to keep him steady.

Izuku’s eyes brighten. “Sure!”

Off to the side, Kaminari’s eyes go wide. He mumbles something to Kirishima, who nods
vigorously, and they vanish. Katsuki doesn’t notice. He’s all too preoccupied with the way
Izuku’s hand skims down his arm as he moves to hold his hand.

They get on the Ferris Wheel together, climbing into the little metal basket and pulling the
bar into their laps. It’s got a high backing, but no roof, so they’re free to see the stars
overhead. Izuku wiggles in excitement.

“I’ve never been on one of these,” he admits.

Katsuki grunts. “Yeah, me neither.”

It’s not the kind of ride you go on alone, Katsuki thinks. It’s meant for, uh. Couples, he
supposes. With a zing of delight Katsuki remembers that’s exactly what they are. He can’t
help snuggling in then, pressing close so they’re touching from thigh to shoulder.

Their feet dangle in the air as the wheel carries them into the sky. The music grows quieter,
the fairy lights shrink down to pin pricks, and the people look like bugs scurrying around.
Katsuki settles back against the seat with a sigh, throwing his arm around Izuku’s shoulders
as he does.

Izuku shakes his head as he looks down upon it all. “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

“Oi,” Katsuki says, nudging him with his knee. “ We did this. And you’re fuckin’ worth it,
alright? You’re worth a dozen fuckin’ carnvials.”

Izuku stares at him for a long, drawn out moment. The moonlight glances off his cheek, the
sparkle off the Ferris Wheel dancing in his eyes. He looks away, cursing softly.

“What?” Katsuki demands. Izuku shakes his head again.

“I just— I wanna kiss you so bad,” he admits, softly. A flush dusts his cheeks.

Katsuki’s heart flutters. He breaks into a grin before remembering and then he curses too.

“ I invited too many goddamn extras to your party, ” he grumbles and Izuku’s laugh is bright
and clear. He can hear another couple in the cart next to them giggling and shuffling as the
wheel keeps turning and ugh. Oh sure they get to make out. He seriously regrets the decision
to hide his and Izuku’s relationship, even if it’s only for one night.

They make a full loop; Katsuki’s feet tingle as they rise into the air again.

“I’m glad they’re here,” Izuku admits quietly. He nudges Katsuki with his knee. “You were
right. I did wanna go to this party.”

Katsuki tightens his arm around him, drawing Izuku close. Izuku rests his cheek against his
collarbone with a soft sigh.

“You really picked out all that stuff for me?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki’s sigh puffs out his mouth, embarrassed. “... yeah.”

“The crepes? The flowers? Everything?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki admits. “I did.”

Izuku’s giggling shakes them both. “You love me.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Katsuki answers, jabbing him in the belly. “You better fuckin’ love me
back.”
“I do!” Izuku cries. “I do love you back!”

He loves me. God, not kissing him feels fucking impossible right about now. Katsuki sits up a
little, taking a cursory glance at their surroundings. They’re pretty high up. Maybe once they
reach the peak they could risk one, small kiss without being seen. Izuku seems to be thinking
along the same lines, because he sits up too, looking at Katsuki eagerly and licking his lips in
anticipation.

The Ferris Wheel slows to a halt, with them at the very peak. They’re suspended in the air,
surrounded by stars and cupped in their little basket. Katsuki reels back to look at him and
god he’s so fucking pretty. It’s all Katsuki can do to stare at Izuku as the night breeze tugs at
his curls gently. Katsuki’s heart is racing. He touches Izuku’s chest, hand fisting in the fabric,
ready to tug him forward and— and—

A jarring shriek. The crackle of static. Uraraka’s voice comes blaring through a megaphone
from down below.

“Alright, alright,” she says, loud and irritating through the speaker. “This thing on? Can
everybody hear me?”

They jolt. Katsuki feels a flash of scorching fury. Fuck he could actually murder her.
Seriously, what the fuck?

Izuku and Katsuki lean over the edge of the cart to stare down at her and— yeah, okay,
they’re not that high up. They can plainly see all of class 3-A staring right at them only a few
stories below, even Shinsou (though he doesn’t look happy about it). Uraraka stands with a
hand on her hip. Sero and Mina are giggling and clutching each other. Momo and Jirou are
holding hands and Iida has a strange flush to his cheeks. Even Eri is there, little hands
clenched into fists with a truly wild gleam in her eye.

“What the fuck do you want?” Katsuki shouts down at them.

Uraraka smirks up at him and for a moment she looks about as villainous as her girlfriend.

“Enough is enough, Bakugou Katsuki.” She points an accusing finger at him. “This Ferris
Wheel doesn’t move an inch until you give the birthday boy a kiss.”

There’s a chorus of cheers and Katsuki blanches. He actually reels back. What?

“What the fuck?” he says, but their friends have already started chanting kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.
They even have the fucking kid doing it, pumping her tiny fists in the air. Katsuki leans over
the side of the cart again, shouting, “The fuck do you think you’re doing, Round Cheeks?”

“This is an intervention!” Uraraka says, jabbing a finger at him again. “You’ve had a year and
a half to get your shit together!”

“This is our birthday gift to you, Midoriya!” Mina adds, calling up to him.

“We know you want to!” Sero says, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Just get it over with already!” someone advises.

“Man up and kiss him, Bakugou!” Uraraka demands.

Katsuki cannot fucking believe their nerve. Where is Kaminari? And Kirishima? He’ll
frighten them into submission with his glare surely. But he glances around and doesn’t see
them anywhere. He makes eye contact with the red-vested employee running the Ferris
Wheel, but she only shrugs.

“She’s the one paying me,” she says, gesturing at Uraraka.

Useless. Absolutely useless. Katsuki leans back with a scoff. Are they seriously doing this?
At Izuku’s birthday party? They’re so fucking lucky Katsuki is way ahead of them. He’d
manned up and kissed Izuku approximately thirteen hours ago. God, Katsuki would be a
mess if he hadn’t had his shit figured out already. But they didn’t know that. Katsuki is red-
hot with his rage. He can’t believe he’d actually been grateful for their help earlier. They’re
fucking ridiculous. Impossible even. They’re punching the air rhythmically as they chant:
kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

Katsuki’s sigh is ragged and highly irritated. He shakes his head, turning to Izuku and—

Oh.

Everything stops. The chaos, the irritation, the noise. It’s all washed out, swept away by the
sight of Izuku now. The soft glow of the Ferris Wheel makes his wide, expressive eyes
sparkle. The flashing lights catch in his curls and warm his skin. His bottom lip slightly
flushed from nibbling on it and his gaze is so painfully soft. God, Izuku is gorgeous. Ethereal
even. He’s an actual angel, sitting right next to him.

He loves me, Katsuki thinks. Somehow he can see it now. In his gaze, his nervous hands, his
wobbly smile. Warmth blooms in Katsuki’s chest, spiraling out to fill his limbs with bright
tingling light. His stomach does somersaults; his heart catches in his throat. Izuku looks at
him with so much hope. The corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitches up against his will.

“Really?” he asks. He means to say it flatly, but it just comes out hoarse. “You wanna do
this?”

Outing their relationship so soon hadn’t been the plan, after all. Izuku glances away shyly
before making eye contact again. He shrugs one shoulder.

“You heard ‘em,” he says, a glint of challenge in his gaze. “Kiss me.”

God, Katsuki loves him. It’s too big for his chest, too big for his body even. He shuffles in
closer, touching Izuku’s face with careful fingers. Izuku’s breath hitches at the contact. He’s
so responsive, tense and anticipatory like this really is their first time. Katsuki thumbs along
his cheekbone before trailing down to dip under his chin, tilting his face up. Izuku’s lips part,
a soft breath hushing out his mouth. Izuku’s eyes flutter shut. Katsuki drinks it all in,
savoring the sight of Izuku, waiting for him, wanting him.
Katsuki leans in and kisses him softly.

Their friends screech like fucking banshees. They jump up and down wildly and wail like it’s
the end of the world. Mina bursts into tears. Sero shoots off tape-streamers in celebration.
Momo and Jirou exchange a quick kiss of their own and giggle. Hands are thrown in the air,
thanks are given, god is praised. Eri squeals as Iida picks her up, setting her on his hip as she
claps merrily, tears shining in her wide eyes. Uraraka’s commotion has attracted the attention
of just about everyone at the carnival, so they all burst into applause too. Somewhere in the
distance, All Might dabs away a tear. Their mothers coo before embracing one another.

Uraraka whips over to the left, shouting into the megaphone. “ Kiri, now! ”

Katsuki doesn’t hear any of it. Not the cheering, not the megaphone, not the music kicking
into gear as Jirou cranks it up. Nothing. There’s only Izuku. The gentle press of his mouth as
he kisses Katsuki back, his soft breath rushing over his skin, the tiny smacking sounds as
their lips move, the helpless noise at the back of Izuku’s throat. Katsuki feels a hand fist in
the front of his shirt as he kisses Izuku again and again. He loves me.

There’s a fizzle. A hollow thud. And then a bone-rattling boom as fireworks burst overhead.
They spring apart gasping, necks snapping up to stare at the sparkling blossoms in awe.
Izuku’s laughter is absolutely giddy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki mutters, more disbelief than anger. He swivels
around in his seat and sure enough. Kirishima and Kaminari are fifty feet behind them,
jumping and screaming, fireworks fizzling at their feet.

“You did it, Bakugou!” Kirishima bellows, shaking Kaminari excitedly.

“Oh my god,” Kaminari says, sobbing hysterically and throwing himself into Kirishima’s
arms. “Fucking I can’t. I can’t. We fucking did it. We finally— and they— oh my god.”

Fucking morons. Katsuki shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but then Izuku’s hand is on his
cheek, reclaiming his attention. His eyes are wine-dark, and dreamy, and Katsuki doesn’t
have a choice. He has to kiss him. He rocks the cart as he swoops in to do so and swallows
down Izuku’s giggling. He clutches onto Katsuki’s shoulders as he kisses him back.
Fireworks burst overhead, their friends cheer down below.

And in the middle, cradled in a glittering basket in the sky, Izuku smiles against Katsuki’s
mouth.
The party is predictably insufferable after that. Izuku and Katsuki are tugged apart the second
they’re back on their feet. Everyone is chattering excitedly, some still cheering and clapping.
Kaminari and Kirishima are on Katsuki in an instant, attempting to tackle him to the ground
and ruffling his hair until it sticks up in every direction.

“Atta boy!” Kirishima shouts. He’s still crying; his face is nearly as red as his shitty hair.

“I fucking told you, I told you!” Kaminari says, about a dozen times over. His eyes are still
glazed with tears and he sniffles like an idiot. Katsuki shoves him off. “I told you he loved
you.”

Kaminari is so fucking lucky Katsuki is on cloud nine right about now. In fact, they all are.
Katsuki should rightfully be blasting the whole lot of them to pieces for this stupid stunt. But.
Well. He glances at Izuku, who laughs as Uraraka throws her arms around him. Maybe he
sort of owes them big if it makes Izuku this happy.

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ fuckin’ nice today,” Katsuki says, jabbing a warning finger at
Kaminari. They barely listen to him.

“I’m so happy for you dudes,” Kirishima chokes, hooking an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders
once again and wiping his face with the back of his wrist. “You really did it! Admitting your
feelings is so manly, Bakugou!”

“I can’t believe we pulled it off!” Kaminari cries.

“We thought you might jump,” Jirou informs him with a grin.

Huh. Katsuki hadn’t even considered it. He shakes Kirishima off once again and takes a step
back.

“Yeah, yeah, you all happy now?” Katsuki says dismissively. There’s a great chorus of yes-es
as Kaminari and Kirishima jump in the air. Katsuki sighs.

“You are feeling nice today,” Sero comments, scratching his chin with his thumb and
forefinger thoughtfully. He glaze flits over Katsuki, examining him critically.

“Something’s up,” Shinsou agrees, somehow looking even more haggard than usual, and
Kaminari nods seriously.

Sero snaps his fingers like he’s got it “You two pre-gamed before this shit, didn’t you?”

“What the fuck? No,” Katsuki snaps. Okay, Katsuki was trying to play nice, but they’re
already testing his patience. Thanks for the romantic moment of the century or whatever, but
Katsuki would like to be done now.

“I know,” Todoroki says, cool and collected, and popping in out of fucking nowhere. His
smile is surprisingly devious. “True love's kiss broke the asshole spell.”

All of Katsuki’s idiot friends fall over themselves laughing. Kaminari curls up on the floor,
clutching his crotch like he’s about to piss himself. Kirishima almost chokes. Sero ruffles
Todoroki’s hair, beet red and gasping for air.

“Holy shit, I love you!” Sero declares, cackling so hard he’s tearing up.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Whatever. It wasn’t that funny. A muscle tics in his jaw.

“Bakugou!” Mina squeals and she throws her arms around him too. Ugh. Katsuki does his
best not to squirm. “That was the most romantic thing ever!”

Katsuki tolerates the hug for exactly two point five seconds before shoving her off.

“Yeah, real magical,” Katsuki says, flatly. Kirishima pulls Mina into his arms instead and
drops a quick kiss to her brow. “Are we done here?”

Uraraka punches his arm suddenly.

“You’re fucking welcome by the way,” she says, her brown eyes blazing. “Took you long
enough. Do you have any idea how much fucking pining I had to sit through?”

There’s a collective groan, peppered with some holy shit yeahs and a few god you two were
insufferables too. Alright, Katsuki’s goodwill has officially run out.

“Do you seriously want me to thank you for holding us hostage up there?” Katsuki snaps.

“Do you seriously have a boyfriend right now?” Uraraka shoots back, hands on her hips.
Everyone oohs like he just got burned. She jabs a finger in his face. “Don’t act like we didn’t
do you a huge favor dude.”

There’s a round of agreement and high fives. Katsuki hates that she’s fucking right. He closes
his eyes. In four counts through his nose, out four counts through his mouth. He can’t enjoy a
love hotel with Izuku later if he murders all their friends now. He has to be good. Patient.

I turned down sex to be here, his brain unhelpfully reminds him and he sours all over again.

“Kacchan! Kacchan, hey!” Izuku worms through the crowd to return to his side. Oh thank
god. The irritation ebbs away as Izuku fills his rightful place in his arms. There’s no need to
hide now so Katsuki indulges himself, smothering the side of his face with kisses. Izuku
laughs, and while there are some awws and applause, most of their friends just look grossed
out.

Katsuki smirks when he notices.

“What?” Katsuki demands He kisses Izuku’s cheek once more for good measure. “Isn’t this
what you pervs wanted?”

Uraraka wrinkles her nose. Iida is blushing so hard his glasses fog up. Sero makes an ugh
sound from deep in his gut.

“Guys I think we fucked up,” Kaminari says and they all burst out laughing.
There are still a few things left to do. They light the candles on the cake, singing Happy
Birthday loud and off key. Izuku considers his wish very carefully this time, his gaze flicking
to Katsuki and grinning mysteriously as he blows the candles out.

But before they can cut the cake, Kaminari swoops in out of nowhere, seizing the back of
Izuku’s head— Katsuki moves on instinct. He catches Kaminari just in time, yanking him
back by his collar until he chokes.

“Nice try, asshole,” Katsuki snarls.

But Izuku only laughs. His big doe eyes glitter with mischief. Izuku seizes a fistful of cake
and smashes it right in Katsuki’s face.

“What the fuck, Zu!” Katsuki roars. And after he just fucking rescued him, too. Does he
know how much this cake cost? But their friends are cheering and Izuku is still laughing,
cupping the back of Katsuki’s neck as he drags him down and cleans his mess with kisses.
Katsuki is embarrassed at how quickly he defuses.

“Asshole,” he grumbles, even as he holds Izuku close. Izuku giggles like he can see right
through him.

Their friends cheering have devolved into groans and head-shaking. Shinsou visibly
shudders. Only Todoroki keeps clapping like nothing is wrong.

“Alright, I regret getting you two together immediately,” Sero says, looking like he might
barf. Kaminari and Uraraka nod hastily in agreement.

Haha. What? Katsuki frowns in confusion, frosting still smeared all over his face and Izuku
actively nibbling on him. Wait, hang on. Do the idiots really think they’re the ones who got
Izuku and Katsuki together? Katsuki barely holds back a snort. He supposes that makes
sense. It’s not like they told them before. Katsuki doesn’t know how he feels about that.

“I didn’t think you two could get any grosser,” Jirou adds with a shake of her head.

“We brought this upon ourselves,” Iida says, sounding almost grim.

Katsuki leans in to murmur in Izuku’s ear, “Should we tell them?”

Izuku hums, still licking cake off his face as he shrugs indifferently. When he smiles at
Katsuki, his eyes are bright with mischief.

“ Let them think what they want for now, ” he says, low enough not to be heard.

Katsuki supposes that’s settled then. Katsuki swipes his finger along the edge of the cake,
gathering up frosting and booping Izuku’s nose before kissing it clean. Izuku’s snort devolves
into helpless giggling.

“Okay, seriously, you guys aren’t newlyweds!” Kaminari cries, clutching at his hair. He looks
absolutely horrified at the monster he’s created. “We all wanna eat that!”
Says the guy who was about to smash Izuku’s face in it. Whatever. They eat around the
mangled bits easily enough. Izuku wants to take a turn on all the rides again because they
might as well get their money's worth. And then Uraraka breaks out a tub full of water guns
and water balloons, shooting the first shot at Kirishima starting an all out war. Jirou cranks up
the party music as the madness ensues. They chase each other, racing around attractions as
they flee, and ducking under gaming booths for cover. The insanity is instant and teams form
quickly. Kaminari shrieks as he sprints through the soaked grass, Sero on his heels with a
whole water cooler full of half-melted ice. Izuku watches it all, laughing as Momo spritzes at
him.

“Come on!” Uraraka cries, pumping up a full tank and passing it to him. “You’re on my
team!”

“Okay!” Izuku says, brightly.

But then he freezes. His head tilts curiously as he looks off into the distance. Realization
breaks over him. Izuku’s lips part. His breath hitches. Katsuki frowns as he follows his gaze
and— oh right.

The bouncy castle is sad looking and dim compared to the glowing attractions surrounding it.
Fairy lights are draped above it, of course, but it’s still shabby looking without its own
spotlight. It’s tucked into the corner, and abandoned now that the families with children had
gone home for the night. Katsuki had almost forgotten it. Izuku gapes, squinting like he can’t
be quite sure what he’s seeing. He pushes the water gun back into Uraraka’s arms.

“Hang on,” he says, stumbling forward. “I just— hang on.”

Katsuki follows after him. Their friends shriek with laughter. They’re soaking the grass with
their water fight and slipping as they chase each other, their wet t-shirts clinging to their skin.
Kirishima is absolutely fucking drenched, sheltering Mina with his body and roaring, “ I’ll
protect you, babe!”

Izuku ignores all of it, even crossing through the line of fire as he makes a beeline for the
bouncy castle. It’s at the far end of everything and the chaos peeters off as they approach.
Izuku stops just outside the entrance. He covers his mouth with his hand, whirling around to
stare at Katsuki.

“Did you—” he begins. His brow pinches. His lashes flutter as blinks several times in a row.
“But how did you—?”

Katsuki shrugs, but it’s way too fucking late to play it cool.

“Remembered,” he admits gruffly. “Had my mom send a picture so we got the right one.”

Izuku shakes his head furiously. He smiles under his fingers. He’s cried so much today that
Katsuki is shocked he has any tears left in him. But here they come anyway.
“That’s not what I— Kacchan ,” Izuku presses, looking somewhat exasperated. “How did
you know? ”

Katsuki takes the hand covering Izuku’s mouth and brings it to his own lips, kissing the backs
of his knuckles gently. The scar tissue is ripply and unnaturally smooth under his lips.

“I pay attention,” he murmurs.

Izuku's laugh is short and dry and disbelieving. He shakes his head, curls bouncing around
his face as he does. He touches Katsuki’s cheek reverently and his smile is almost amused.

“Kacchan,” he says, almost scolding. “You—” He tsks; his Adam’s apple bobbing as he
swallows. “You’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

He says it like he’s joking, but Katsuki knows it’s true. Katsuki flushes so hard it stings.
Whatever. Maybe being in love means being embarrassed sometimes. He shoves his hands in
his pockets and clears his throat.

“So what if I am?” Katsuki gruffs. “You’re my boyfriend; I’m supposed to be obsessed with
you.”

Katsuki feels the urge to hide, but Izuku’s grin is too beautiful to look away from. He’s
happiest Katsuki’s ever seen him. He surges forward then, seizing Katsuki’s face in his hands
and kissing him once, twice— then too many times to count. Katsuki is breathless as Izuku
ends it with one last lingering peck.

“Come on,” Izuku says, and he tugs Katsuki forward. He draws back the flap shielding the
entrance of the bouncy castle as he slips inside.

It's dim, but the fairy lights filtering in through the red fabric make the room rosy and warm.
All Might’s grinning face is plastered on every surface. Their friends' laughter echoes over to
them, but it’s distant. Izuku shakes his head again and again as he drinks it all in.

“It’s just how I remember it,” he says, awe-struck. He tests it with a little jump and laughs.
“Kacchan— Kacchan I can’t believe— I was so little, but I always said I wanted one and I
—”

“I know,” Katsuki says, jumping in after him. “I heard you.”

Izuku bounces with the sudden weight dropped next to him and he shoots Katsuki a look.
And then he breaks into a grin. He jumps and laughs. They can’t go as high as they did as
children, but Katsuki still thinks it’s still fun. Suddenly, Izuku lunges at him, giving Katsuki a
quick shove.

“You’re it,” he says, turning on his heel and running.

Katsuki chases after him. It’s a little tricky on the inflated floor, but Katsuki’s never backed
down from a challenge. The bouncy castle is fairly large, with several little rooms to race
through, and big inflated pillars to dodge around. Somewhere, Katsuki knows there's a ladder
to climb up to the top of the giant slide. Izuku giggles as Katsuki pursues him and it’s— it’s
just like before. Like they’re just kids again. Kacchan and Izuku, before war had ever touched
them, before Katsuki’s insecurities had driven them apart, back when they were tiny and
inseparable, like they always should have been.

Izuku finds the foamy ladder and scrambles up it before throwing himself down the slide—
Katsuki is quick to follow after, catching Izuku as he struggles to his feet at the end of the
chute. Katsuki seizes him with a full body hug. Izuku screams, wiggling in his arms.

“You’re it, nerd,” Katsuki says, and then he releases him, racing ahead and diving back inside
the castle.

Izuku chases him now, and it’s so achingly familiar. Right where he always was, on Katsuki’s
heels, eyes shining as he relentlessly pursues him. Katsuki was such a fool for never letting
Izuku catch him. They make another loop. Katsuki scrambles up the ladder and skids down
the slide, running around the edge to dive back into the bouncy castle’s entrance. He feels
Izuku’s eyes on him, hears his footsteps approaching and the curtain whipping back. Katsuki
pivots around a pillar, sticking his tongue out at him over his shoulder and Izuku laughs.

“You’re such a brat!” Izuku cries.

Katsuki snickers as he ducks into the next room. He doesn’t know how many times they
follow that same, familiar circuit. Giggling like children, getting grass stains on their knees as
they skid off the slide, hair becoming staticy from rubbing up against too much fabric. Once,
Katsuki catches Izuku’s ankle as he tries to climb the foamy ladder and Izuku shrieks as he’s
yanked down.

“Gotcha,” Katsuki snarls.

But he’s miscalculated. Izuku falls and comes crashing down right on top of him and they’re
both sent tumbling back. They collapse onto the castle floor with a bounce. Katsuki oofs,
dipping dangerously low to the earth with the force of their landing, and taking a sharp elbow
to the face as he does.

“Shit!” Izuku curses through his wheezy giggles. He rolls off of Katsuki and cups his cheek
in his hand, half-sprawled on top of him. “Oh baby, I’m sorry.”

Katsuki breaks into a full body chill at the endearment. His cheek only smarts a little. Izuku
pets him like he’s something precious.

“Are you alright?” he breathes, turning Katsuki’s face as he examines him.

Katsuki nods. They’re still breathing hard as they stare at one another and the moment is
strangely intimate. Sheltered by the bouncy castle, surrounded in a warm rosy glow, the
fabric above them pricked with starlight as the fairy lights shine through. Katsuki is still
splayed out on his back as Izuku rubs the budding bruise on his cheek.

“‘S fine,” Katsuki assures him. “Wasn’t thinkin’.”

Izuku hums like he isn’t convinced. “Does it hurt?”

Katsuki shrugs again. Fabric rustles as Izuku looms over him, kissing his cheek softly. Then
again. And again. Katsuki turns into it, nose brushing Izuku’s soft cheek as meets his mouth
halfway. Fuck it feels so right. Katsuki hooks an arm around Izuku’s waist, tugging until
Izuku is fully settled on top of him. Izuku hums into his mouth like he’s pleased.

The kiss is endless. Slow and savoring and sensual. Katsuki runs his hands over every inch of
Izuku, trying to memorize the shape of him with his palms. The breadth of his shoulders, the
nip of his waist, the curve of his ass— Izuku giggles when Katsuki takes a nice squeeze out
of that last one. He pants into his mouth when Katsuki moves lower, hiking up Izuku’s dense,
powerful thigh and grinding them together. God, Katsuki gets hard way too fast and it’s not
fucking fair. Izuku grins when he feels his cock pressing against him. Desire pulses through
Katsuki like a second heartbeat.

But then Izuku breaks away. Breathless, and kiss-flushed, and hair-mussed. God just look at
him, look at what Katsuki’s done to him. Izuku’s gaze is so hazy and soft. He doesn’t speak.
He only stares at Katsuki, and breathes.

“You okay?” Katsuki prods, squeezing thigh. Izuku gives him a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, I—” His brows pinch slightly. He searches Katsuki’s face, over and over again like he
can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. His lashes flutter as he looks at him, taking a shuddering
breath. “I just—”

He trails off, mouth going slack.

“What?” Katsuki prods again. “What’s wrong?”

Izuku shakes his head hurriedly.

“Nothing, it’s silly,” he assures, stroking Katsuki’s face with his fingers. He laughs a little. “I
just— I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Oh. Katsuki blinks. Warmth unspools in his belly.

“Yeah?” He rubs Izuku’s leg up and down, hoping the gesture is soothing.

“A good dream,” Izuku goes on and his red-lipped grin is all too earnest. He thumbs at
Katsuki’s cheekbone. “An amazing dream.”

Katsuki huffs through his nose, amused. He bumps their foreheads together as he snuggles in
close.

“Not a dream, nerd,” he assures.

If anyone’s dreaming, it’s me, he thinks. Izuku makes a sweet, almost pained sound.

“I don’t wanna wake up,” he whispers, hushed in the quiet of the castle.

Katsuki scoffs. “You aren’t dreaming, Zu.”

 “Hm,” Izuku says, unconvinced. Their noses nuzzle together as he shakes his head. “That’s
exactly what dream-Kacchan would say.”

Katsuki’s laughter is promptly smothered in kisses. He grips Izuku’s waist; Izuku’s hands
card through his hair and their making out morphs into something needy and insistent. Izuku
can’t seem to get enough of him. Their mouths are slick with spit; Izuku’s tongue swipes
along the underside of his teeth. Izuku’s thighs tighten around him, shifting a little as he does,
and fuck, Katsuki can feel that he’s hard too. Katsuki rocks his hips against Izuku
experimentally and oh my god . The friction is so delicious. Katsuki can’t fucking believe it
feels this good through their clothes.

Izuku resurfaces with a gasp.

“Kacchan,” he hushes into his mouth. He clings onto him desperately. “Kacchan— I don’t
wanna pressure you, but—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki snarls. He hooks a leg over Izuku’s hips and surges up, rolling
Izuku onto his back and looming over him. “I fucking want you.”

Katsuki grinds into him deliberately, giving Izuku a taste of his own medicine from this
morning and Izuku breaks away to moan. Katsuki drags kisses down the line of his throat.
Fuck it, Izuku’s getting that matching hickey now. He sinks his teeth into the side of Izuku’s
neck and Izuku’s stuttered gasp is glorious.

“Kacchan,” he pants, hand clutching at the back of Katsuki’s shirt. “Did you— did you really
mean it? Earlier today. About the love hotel?”

The shiver touches every part of Katsuki. Every particle of his being from head to toe. He
comes off of Izuku’s throat with a wet pop and swallows thickly.

“Yeah,” he manages, hating how hoarse he sounds. “Yeah, I meant it.”

Izuku’s whimper is so sweet. It rushes through Katsuki, flooding him with warm, buzzing
need. God, he wants him. Of course he fucking meant it, doesnt Izuku know what he does to
him? Katsuki sucks on his throat gently and Izuku wriggles beneath him.

“Kacchan,” Izuku says, a third time now. A plea so soft and sincere. He swallows thickly as
he meets his gaze. “Can we— Can we go now?”

Katsuki splits into a grin. He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

Chapter End Notes

their friends def had a group chat where they were like "how can we use this party to
finally make bkdk canon..." and uraraka was like "i know. a hostage situation" and they
were all like yes oh my god that's brilliant what could go wrong

hehe hopefully you aren't too blueballed by this!! i think this is by far the fluffiest thing
i've ever written and that's... a pretty high bar. I got a lot of joy out of writing this so
hopefully it was enjoyable for you too!! (not the chapter count updating again haha
whoops)

please PLEASE comment if you enjoyed!! it really keeps me motivated to write lots and
fast!! i always love to hear your favorite parts <3 <3 <3 thank you so much for the love
and support!!

come say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr!! thank you

love you!!

edit: oh my god?? look at this precious art! thank you so so much @ottern0t!!
 cosmic delight
Chapter Notes

shout out to sweet kay and darling fawnie for betaing this chapter for me, i love honor
and cherish you sweet peas hehe <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They make a run for it.

Katsuki is lucky the bouncy castle is tucked into the corner, away from the other attractions
and the party in general. They hold hands as they slip out the back entrance, checking over
their shoulders, and stifling their laughter as they sprint across the grass. The rides are still
moving, the night is still young and sparkling, and their friends are still shouting in the
distance as they rage their water war, but Izuku and Katsuki abandon all of it. Katsuki is just
glad the idiots are all too busy blasting each other with water guns to spot them fleeing
towards the school. He’s a man on a fucking mission.

“We need to go back to your house,” Katsuki whispers, trying not to attract the attention of
anyone else. Izuku nods. “Get your cash. My overnight bag.”

They hit the concrete and turn the corner, disappearing behind the school building. Katsuki
has one moment to feel like they’re safe before there’s a burst of laughter to their left. They
both jump.

“Hurry!” Izuku whisper-shouts, yanking on Katsuki’s arm and dragging him until they’re
tucked under the shadow of a nearby doorframe. They press themselves flat against the door,
holding their breaths—

But it’s only a gaggle of first years. They walk arm-in-arm, faces bright with merriment as
they chatter, gossiping over which boys they’d have take them up on the Ferris Wheel.

“Midoriya-senpai is so lucky!” one boy with ram-horns sighs dreamily. “Do you think
anyone would ever throw a carnival for me?”

“Doubtful.”

“No way!”

“I wouldn’t.”

The group breaks into giggles right as they walk past Izuku and Katsuki’s terrible hiding spot.
Thankfully no one glances their way.
“Bakugou-senpai is the lucky one!” another spritely girl amends. “ He gets Midoriya-
senpai!”

Their squeals fade as they disappear down the walkway. Katsuki waits until they’ve vanished
from view before slumping over in relief. Izuku tsks and shakes his head.

“They’re wrong,” he tells Katsuki. He takes his hand again as they continue toward the
school’s back entrance. “ I’m the lucky one.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, even though he’s grinning.

“Come on,” he says, tugging Izuku along and they break into a run.

The back gate is closed for the night. They would need to wake up a teacher to get buzzed out
traditionally, which obviously is a no-go. And blasting over with Katsuki’s quirk would draw
too much attention. There isn’t any other option, so Izuku scoops Katsuki up into his arms
bridal-style.

Katsuki hooks his arms around his neck and rolls his eyes. “Really?”

Izuku swoops in for a kiss. Katsuki allows himself three seconds to enjoy it before shoving
him off.

“Save it for the hotel,” he grumbles, but it comes out softer than he intended and Izuku
giggles.

The air crackles to life with the sharp scent of ozone. Neon green light dances over Izuku’s
skin and Katsuki can feel the power of One For All surging within him, heating his body and
making his hair stand on end. Izuku breaks into a run, footfalls heavy on the concrete, his
knees bending— Katsuki’s stomach drops. Holy shit. They soar through the air in a graceful
arc, just skimming over the school’s gate. Katsuki’s stomach flutters as they fall. He isn’t
scared, of fucking course he isn’t, but he clings to Izuku anyway and squeezes his eyes shut.

Izuku’s shoes skid against the pavement as he lands, One For All flickering out and the scent
of fresh ozone fading. He sets Katsuki on his feet and frames Katsuki’s waist with his big
hands. Katsuki must make a sound of relief because Izuku’s grin is absolutely wicked.

“I wasn’t gonna let you fall, Kacchan!” he teases and Katsuki whaps him across the arm.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Izuku snickers, but they don’t have time to argue about it; anyone might have seen them
launching off school property. He takes Izuku’s hand again and they race back to Izuku’s
place, hurrying before anyone can find them.
They make a pit stop at Izuku’s house, then Katsuki’s, stuffing Katsuki’s overnight bag full of
clothes, Izuku’s cash, their toothbrushes, and phone chargers. Their parents must still be at
the party because their houses are empty, and thank god for that. Katsuki thinks trouble must
be written all over their faces. Izuku keeps meeting his gaze and giggling, and Katsuki can’t
help grinning back. He’s so elated he feels like he could float away if he isn’t careful. They
hold hands as they half-jog toward the bus stop.

“Where to?” Katsuki asks, as they examine the bus schedule.

Izuku frowns, scratching his chin as he thinks. “Shit.”

There are at least a dozen love hotels in Musutafu. The closest one to UA is an infamous
spot. Hotel Sugar Rush: a candy-themed monstrosity that pollutes the skyline with its over-
the-top theming. It’s seen as a rite of passage for some third years. There’s almost always a
rumor about which third-year couples have and haven’t gone— which in Katsuki’s mind
immediately rules it out. Izuku seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he doesn’t
even bring it up.

“Let's take the bus downtown,” he suggests instead. “See what we run into there.”

Katsuki is all too happy to oblige. Hotel Sugar Rush would have been convenient, but he
knows that soon the idiots will notice their absence and start asking questions. He wouldn’t
put it past them to camp out by the hotel and try to spot them coming or going.

They board the first bus out. It’s late enough that it’s entirely empty except for them. Izuku
plops down on the pleather seat cushion and whips out his phone. Katsuki watches over
Izuku’s shoulder as he types love hotels near me into the search bar.

Holy shit. Katsuki’s stomach flips over half a hundred times. They’re really doing this, this is
actually happening. He’s going to a love hotel . With Izuku . His pulse is a sharp stab in his
chest. Fuck, okay don’t freak out. It’s only sex with the love of his life. Katsuki’s heart
spasms so hard it feels like a fucking heart attack. Oh, who the fuck is he kidding? The stakes
couldn’t possibly be higher.

A love hotel with Izuku . Katsuki still can’t wrap his head around it. He stares at Izuku’s
profile: the sharp cut of his jaw, the dusting of freckles on his sun-kissed cheeks, the slight
furrow in his brow as he scrolls through his phone. God, he isn’t even doing anything and
still he makes Katsuki’s heart flutter. It’d be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.

Izuku gasps suddenly.

“Kacchan!” he cries, swatting Katsuki’s pec with the back of his hand. “Hotel Hero has an
All Might room!”
Katsuki sputters.

“What the— No! We’re not getting a fucking All Might room!” Katsuki snaps. His ears sting
with his blush. And after he’d just been thinking such sappy shit about him too.

Izuku has the audacity to look put out. He blinks his enormous puppy-dog eyes at him and
Katsuki jabs a finger in his face.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Katsuki hisses. He can’t believe this is up for debate. There has to
be a thousand things wrong with getting a fucking All Might room . “I’m not— I don’t wanna
be thinking about my goddamn teacher when I— I—”

When I fuck you. Katsuki chokes on the words. His flush is so hot that his cheeks prickle with
it. God, he can’t make himself say it and his mouth squirms.

Izuku’s gaze is half-lidded as he stares up at Katsuki, his pupils blown out and sultry.

“When you what?” Izuku asks in a low voice.

A shiver skitters over Katsuki’s skin; Izuku looks at Katsuki like he’s ravenous, like he’s
ready to devour him whole. Katsuki’s sigh streams out his gritted teeth.

“ You know .”

Traffic rolls on around them. The bus bounces as they go over a speed bump. Katsuki says
nothing else. He hears it clearly when Izuku’s breath hitches, mouth smacking as he wets his
lips.

“Okay,” Izuku agrees surprisingly easily. His lashes flutter as he searches Katsuki’s face over
and over again. “No All Might room then.”

Fuck, how is Katsuki so aroused already? Even just his gaze leaves Katsuki’s body buzzing
with needing, pulsing want. The bus rolls over another bump and Katsuki’s cock twitches in
his jeans.

Izuku clears his throat as he turns back to his phone. He scrolls through the list of options.

“W-What about this one?” Izuku asks, tilting the phone to show him. “It’s close.”

Hotel Divine Fantasy , the screen reads. Oh god. It sounds corny as hell. Like something
right out of a bad porno. But it’s only five minutes away. Fuck, whatever. Katsuki is too
fucking horny to wait any longer.

“Sure,” he says, damningly hoarse. “Can you reserve online?”

“I don’t think so,” Izuku says. His brows pinching as he clicks through the links. The app
switches over to Google Maps and a blue line unspools across the screen. “It’s really close.
We should get out at this next stop.”
The bus jostles as it pulls to a halt. Katsuki slings the overnight bag over his shoulder and lets
Izuku lead him out. It’s late enough that the streets are nearly barren. Restaurant signs are
flickering out, billboard ads are running late-night deals on hotel rooms and midnight
eateries. One sign blinks at them advertising the latest block-buster hit Action Man, which
seems to be a bad parody of All Might if the design is anything to go by.

They cut through a dim alleyway. Red paper lanterns hang overhead as they sidestep the
street cats that scatter at their approach and leap over an upended trash bin. Once they’re out
the other end, Katsuki can easily spot the hotel. The building towers above the others, walls
washed in a sultry purple glow. A pink neon sign blares at them in swirly writing: Hotel
Divine Fantasy.

Fuck. Katsuki’s stomach twists. This is it, they’re here. His hands are even sweatier than
usual as Izuku leads him inside.

The entrance hall is empty except for them and thank god for that. Katsuki might just self-
immolate out of pure embarrassment if he had to make eye contact with anyone— knowing
where they are. Knowing why they’re here. God, fuck, Katsuki has to be putting the stupid
neon sign to shame with how hard he’s glowing with his blush. He just wants to hurry and
hide inside their room.

The entry hall has a snack bar, a stand to buy specialty shampoo and conditioner, and a self-
checkout. One wall is almost entirely consumed by a giant screen displaying the available
rooms. Red text is emblazoned over the taken ones; almost all of the rooms are full. Damn, it
must be a popular date-night location.

Izuku squeezes his hand as they read the screen. “Do you have a preference?”

“No,” Katsuki rasps, and fuck, he’s rasping. Get it together! Why the hell is he so nervous?
He wasn’t nervous this morning, or at the beach, or in the bouncy castle. Somehow this feels
different though. Purposeful. Adult .

Izuku gives him an imploring look.

“You okay?” he asks, softly. His enormous, evergreen eyes are all full of concern, reflecting
the harsh white light of the screen.

“Yeah,” Katsuki manages. He draws Izuku close, wrapping his arms around his waist and
hugging him from behind. He gives his temple a swift kiss. “Just hurry.”

He’ll feel better when they’re alone and tucked away from the world. Izuku nods like he
understands and he taps the screen, selecting a drapey, violet room. The payment window
pops up. Katsuki’s stomach tightens when Izuku selects to pay for tonight and tomorrow
night too.

“You’re gonna have a rough time Monday morning,” Katsuki warns him.

“It’s worth it,” Izuku insists. He spins in Katsuki’s arms and looks up at him. His emerald
eyes are all blazing intensity. “You’re worth it.”
Fuck. The heat rolls within Katsuki.

He really wants me , Katsuki thinks. The thought stokes the fire in his gut, courage licking up
his torso and heating his cheeks. He wants to kiss him now, but he knows he has to wait. The
machine beeps as their IDs are accepted and a keycard rockets out the little chute. Katsuki
takes Izuku’s hand and tugs him forward.

“C’mon,” Katsuki says. “Hurry.”

They forgo the elevator, opting instead to climb the stairs two at a time. The hallways are
empty too, low-lit, carpeted, and only with minimal decoration. They pass door upon door;
Katsuki feels a roil of nerves when he thinks about what might be happening behind each
one. He reads as they skim past: three-hundred and ten, three-hundred and nine, three
hundred and eight—

Here. The door stares at them blankly.

They exchange a glance.

Katsuki’s heart is drumming in his chest so hard it almost hurts. His blood is roaring in his
ears, nerves alight and electrified. Izuku swallows thickly. This is it, they’re here. The air is
suddenly tense, charged with painful anticipation.

Izuku’s scarred hand shakes as he swipes the keycard.

The door beeps.

The lock unlatches.

Fuck, fuck. Adrenaline is bright and lacing through Katsuki’s veins. The anticipation of sex
already has his cock throbbing in his jeans. Izuku squeezes his hand so tightly that Katsuki’s
fingers are half-numb.

Their room is… surprisingly gorgeous. The LED lights rimming the ceiling are softened by
puffy billowy clouds. The bed is spacious, draped in mauve satin sheets, and underlit with
soft violet light. There’s a squashy couch, a big TV, and there are glittering curtains draping
the walls. The semi-translucent fabric ripples as the door opens, fabric speckled with stars
and crescent moons. The Dream Suite. It feels like a dream, Katsuki thinks. They shuck off
their shoes, step out of the genkan, and his mouth is so fucking dry. He can feel his pulse in
his fucking throat. His heart is a hummingbird rattling around his rib cage like it means to
escape.

For a moment it’s all Katsuki can do to stare at Izuku’s back, his spine straight and taut as a
bowstring, his nervous hands fidgeting at his sides. The sound of their soft breathing is
strangely magnified in the closed space.

One beat passes. Two.

Izuku turns to him then and it’s like it happens in slow motion. Katsuki watches his curls
bounce, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His lashes tilt up and down as he searches
Katsuki’s face.

For a moment all they do is stare at one another. Izuku’s wide, wide eyes are dark and
glittering with desire. The color of his irises is entirely lost in the violet light filling the
room.

His lips are slightly parted. His cheeks are flushed.

They surge together as one.

Oh god. Their kissing is frantic, borderline desperate. Twin sounds of relief escape them and
Izuku’s hands are fucking everywhere: dragging up Katsuki’s back, squeezing his shoulders,
tugging on his hair. The rush of contact hits Katsuki like a violent tide, arousal surging and
churning within him. Katsuki is clutching Izuku’s face, yanking his head to the side to kiss
him deeper and the sound of their mouths smacking is obscene. They groan and gasp in
tandem, hushing over each other's mouths, not ending their kiss even for a moment as
Katsuki pushes Izuku toward the bed.

Izuku is already tugging at his clothes, shucking off Katsuki’s white button-up and fumbling
with his belt. Fuck, fuck, this is it here they are. The air between them is electric, charged.
Katsuki can’t stop kissing him, kissing him urgently, kissing him like the world will end if
they stop. Izuku rids Katsuki of his belt and tugs his pants down. Katsuki steps out of them
clumsily, feeling a white-hot flash of embarrassment as he almost stumbles.

“Shit,” he curses, kicking his jeans to the side.

But then Izuku kisses him again and every other thought is obliterated. There’s only Izuku.
His body, his sweet mouth, his greedy hands, and burning desire. All Katsuki’s. All that pent
up desperation belongs to him .

Katsuki finds the buttons of Izuku’s shirt, nimble fingers making quick work of stripping
him. Izuku’s flesh pebbles as it’s exposed and god look at him. All rippling muscle, smooth
skin laced with scar tissue. This beautiful body harbors monstrous power, has saved countless
lives, and worked miracles. And it’s all Katsuki’s. It’s his to touch and have and handle. He
drags his hands up Izuku’s torso, cherishing the feel of him, cupping Izuku’s pecs in his
hands and thumbing over his nipples. Izuku gasps.

“Gorgeous,” Katsuki mumbles. A litany of praises escape him, probably too mumbled and
nonsensical to be understood, but he needs to say them. He needs Izuku to know. “You’re so
fuckin’ pretty.”

Izuku’s whine is beautiful and broken. He tugs on the back of Katsuki’s tank top and Katsuki
strips that off too.

“I need you,” Izuku breathes, kissing him frantically. “I need you so bad.”

He needs me. Katsuki’s cock throbs as the words rumble through him. Needs me, needs me,
needs me. The back of Izuku’s knees hit the mattress and Katsuki shoves him onto it,
dragging open mouthed kisses up his exposed chest as he crawls on top of him. God, Katsuki
loves the taste of his skin, of Izuku . Salt and sweat and human. He sucks a nipple into his
mouth and Izuku gasps, fingers threading through his hair.

“Kacchan,” he breathes. “Oh my god.”

Katsuki hums against his skin, wet suction sounds filling the room as he worships his body
with his mouth. His Izuku, his . Scarred hands fist in his hair.

“Kacchan let me—”

Izuku lifts his hips under him and Katsuki watches him struggle to wiggle out of his pants.
Katsuki takes over; he unbuttons Izuku’s jeans and undoes his fly, dragging his jeans and
boxers down as one. Izuku’s cock springs free and fuck. He’s already dripping wet; Katsuki
smirks.

Good boy , he thinks. So perfect, so his . Katsuki’s mouth waters when the heady, musky
scent of Izuku’s arousal hits him. He scooches down the bed, dipping low to taste him, but
Izuku knees him away.

“Kacchan, not now,” he pleads. He gestures with one hand to the dresser. “Kacchan— lube?”

Fuck . The arousal rolls through Katsuki hot and heavy; magma pools low in his belly and
threads through his limbs. Leaving Izuku feels almost impossible, but he forces himself to.
His arms and legs are shaky as he stands to raid the bedside drawer. Goddamn, there’s all
sorts of sex shit in here. Condoms, bottles of lube, sealed packages of feathers, handcuffs and
a whip. What the hell, did they pick the freaky love hotel? Whatever it doesn’t matter.
Katsuki grabs what they need and slams the drawer shut. Izuku sits up to take the lube from
him, but Katsuki snatches it back.

“Wait,” Katsuki says. He stands above Izuku, heart galloping in his chest. “Let me do it.”

Izuku stares up at him. He’s so lovely, soaked in the violet light of the room, dark eyes
glittering, chest flushed and heaving he stares up at Katsuki in awe. Katsuki surges in,
crawling over him and claiming him in a bruising kiss. Izuku whimpers into it.

“Okay,” Izuku breathes. He shifts back further into the bed and spreads his legs.

Fuck, fuck. Katsuki is fucking dizzy with his arousal. He props himself up on one elbow,
letting the rest of his body drape over Izuku, rightly guessing Izuku would want him close.
Izuku embraces Katsuki as he rips the plastic seal on the lube with his teeth. Izuku mouths at
his neck, running his hands over his back and leaving bright trails of fire in his wake.

Katsuki cracks the bottle open and Izuku shivers at the sound. Would it be easier if Izuku
turned around? Probably. But thinking about Izuku not being able to kiss him makes
Katsuki’s lungs shrivel, so instead Katsuki slides a hand under Izuku, pressing his hand to the
small of his waist as Katsuki rolls onto his back, dragging Izuku along with him until he’s
settled on top of Katsuki instead.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, bracketing Katsuki’s hips with his thighs. He spreads his knees
wide like a good boy.

God, Katsuki is so fucking lucky. Izuku is entirely naked, Katsuki is only in his boxers, and
all of the skin-to-skin contact is intoxicating. Katsuki hooks his chin over Izuku’s shoulder,
watching himself cup one thick asscheek in hand and fuck. Holy shit, Izuku’s body is actually
insane. He feels so fucking good that Katsuki is lightheaded with it. He gapes as he watches
his fingers sink into Izuku’s asscheek, the plush tissue molding to fit the shape of his hand.
It’s like he’s claiming him, possessing him. A muscle in Izuku’s thigh twitches and Izuku
groans as he grinds against him gently.

“Please,” Izuku whispers, nibbling just under Katsuki’s chin. “Please, love. I need you.”

He needs me. The thought snaps Katsuki back into focus. His arms are looped around Izuku
as he drizzles lube into his hand and Katsuki’s fingers tremble. Fuck, fuck are they seriously
doing this? Excess lube splats onto Izuku’s ass and Izuku jolts at the sudden cold. Katsuki
cups his head with his free hand, petting his curls to soothe him.

“You okay?” Katsuki murmurs and Izuku nods frantically. “You ready?”

Izuku whines. “ Hurry .”

He needs me, Katsuki reminds himself. His slick hand skates down Izuku’s toned, rippled
back. His fingers shake as they slip between his cheeks and— fuck . Izuku gasps when
Katsuki’s fingers slide over the furl of his hole.

“Oh my god ,” Izuku breathes.

Oh my god is fucking right. Katsuki is dizzy at the first small brush of contact. There, Izuku
wants him in there. He runs his fingers over it again and it feels so small. Too small. How is
Katsuki supposed to fit? Izuku needs more lube, Katsuki decides right then. His hands are
slick and still shaky as he reaches for the bottle again and, like a fucking idiot, he accidentally
pours out way too much right onto Izuku’s ass. Izuku squirms in his arms. He’s nuzzled into
the crook of Katsuki’s shoulder, breath hushing against his skin as he mouths at his throat.

“Please, please,” Izuku whispers, probably not even fully aware he’s muttering to himself.
“Please, Kacchan. I need it.”

Katsuki’s never fingered someone before, but he’s seen it in porn. Which— Katsuki flushes
— probably isn’t the best point of reference. Fuck, he’ll figure it out. He’s not ruining their
first time by being careless. He goes slow as he circles Izuku’s rim; Izuku whimpers against
his throat. He massages the tight ring of muscle carefully, letting Izuku get used to his
presence and waiting for Izuku to relax.

“Kacchan,” he pleads, thighs tensing around him. He rolls his hips into Katsuki’s hand gently.
“Kacchan, inside. I want you inside.”

God, it’s too much. Izuku on top of him, clinging to him and begging for him— Katsuki
swallows thickly, but nods. He prods at Izuku’s hole experimentally and god. Katsuki’s gasp
is so sharp it’s almost painful. He sinks into Izuku so easily; Izuku’s rim catches his finger
like his body wants him there. Fuck, he’s so scorchingly hot inside and— and soft. Katsuki
never expected Izuku to be so soft. Katsuki is lightheaded imagining that vice grip around his
cock. Fuck, fuck how is he going to survive this?

“You finger yourself a lot?” he gruffs, pumping the one finger inside him carefully. Izuku
squirms above him.

“Yeah,” he admits. He reels back to meet Katsuki’s gaze, a little grin tugging on his lips. “I
get lonely in Fukuoka.”

Fuck! Katsuki has to kiss him. Their mouths slide over one another, messy and eager. He
loses himself in it. Izuku’s sweet mouth, the sensation of skin gliding against skin. He forgets
where he is and unintentionally plunges into Izuku all the way to the last knuckle. Izuku
keens against him, breaking away to groan.

“Yes!” he cries into Katsuki’s mouth. “Yes, just like that!”

Katsuki can’t believe him. But of course Izuku is like this. Masochistic little shit probably
loves the burn. Emboldened, Katsuki slips another finger into him and Izuku’s moan is a
thing of beauty.

“I can feel you,” Izuku babbles, hushed and almost disbelieving. He’s panting through his
smile, rocking back on his knees and sinking further down onto his fingers. “Kacchan—
mph, Kacchan hurry.”

So impatient. So insistent. Katsuki suckles on his throat as he works him open, scissoring his
fingers gently despite Izuku’s urging. He doesn’t care if Izuku has a pain thing, he’s going to
do this right. He waits until Izuku’s hole is relaxed and pliant before adding a third and
Izuku’s hips jump.

“Ah, ah, please ,” Izuku sighs. “Oh, please Kacchan. I want it so bad. I’ve been so good just
let me— let me—”

He’s only half-coherent. Katsuki’s arousal is thick as it simmers through his bloodstream. His
mind is so hazy with lust that he almost feels drunk. There are slick, slurping sounds as
Katsuki’s hand pumps inside him and Izuku moans. God the sounds he makes. Too earnest to
be a performance, leagues better than any porn Katsuki’s ever come across. And it’s all for
Katsuki. Just for Katsuki. Electricity crackles over Katsuki’s skin. Possessiveness rumbles
through him dark and heated.

Katsuki’s knuckles curl inside him and Izuku’s stuttered gasp is so sweet.

“There!” he cries. He arches, throwing his head back and holy shit . Izuku’s face is screwed
up in pleasure, freckles swallowed up in his blush, sweat dripping down his brow. Katsuki
stares up at Izuku in awe as he rocks back into Katsuki’s hand eagerly. “Right there, Kacchan
right— oh .”
Katsuki can barely think straight. His whole body is pounding, his mind is spinning. There’s
only Izuku, painted in the soft violet light of the room, sculpted chest heaving and back
arching like a dream. He wants Izuku to come like this, writhing on top of him and moaning
beautifully, falling apart on his fingers alone— But Izuku shakes his head like he knows what
Katsuki is thinking.

“Kacchan,” he pleads. “ Hng , Kacchan I’m— I’m ready. Please?”

He meets his gaze. Reality ripples around them. The air is so thick that Katsuki can hardly
breathe. His cock is so fucking hard it aches.

“Might not last long,” he warns, huskily. He smoothes over Izuku’s back with a trembling
hand. Izuku shakes his head frantically.

“Don’t care,” he whispers, strained. “Just wanna be yours.”

Yours . The possessiveness surges through Katsuki like frothing boiling riptide, smashing
through everything else and replacing it with only desperate need. He lifts his hips,
shimmying out of his boxers and hissing as the elastic drags over his cock. He turns to reach
for a condom and Izuku smacks his hand away.

“Don’t!” he cries. “I wanna— I want all of you.”

God. Fucking really? But Katsuki can’t find it within him to argue. He can barely string a
coherent thought together. He feels stripped down to his basest desires, only a wanting,
needing animal beneath Izuku. He’s ready to promise him anything, everything. He nods his
consent frantically.

Izuku sits up on his knees, snatching up the lube and emptying the rest of it onto Katsuki’s
cock. Katsuki hisses at the shock of cold and Izuku pets his torso, cooing sympathetically. He
tosses the bottle aside and scoots back to align them.

Oh god, oh holy fucking shit this is it. Every muscle in Katsuki’s body is one tight coil. Izuku
reaches down— fuck! Katsuki winces as his hand wraps around his shaft.

“Shit,” he curses, gripping Izuku’s thighs hard enough to bruise.

Izuku has a half-crazed look in his eye as he guides Katsuki to his entrance. He makes eye
contact, mouth open and breathing hard. His eyes are glassy and wild with desire. Katsuki’s
whole body is one rhythmic pulse.

Katsuki nods once.

Izuku lowers himself, guiding Katsuki’s cock until the crown kisses his entrance.

Jesus fucking Christ . Katsuki gasps, writhing as Izuku sinks down onto him. Katsuki’s knees
bend, his toes curl. His vision is swimming as Izuku’s tight heat envelops him. Izuku’s
hitched little sounds are so sweet, so satisfying.
He sinks down lower and the clutch of Izuku’s body is hot and velvety soft. Izuku’s body
seizes onto Katsuki’s cock like he means to strangle the life out of him, but it’s such a sweet
embrace. It’s Izuku . It’s Izuku’s body seizing him; it’s Katsuki who is fucking inside him .
Katsuki's vision is blurred as he watches himself disappear into Izuku. Inside, he’s fucking
inside. He can barely process the reality of it. Him and Izuku, joined as intimately as two
human beings can be.

Izuku’s brow is furrowed, mouth working wordlessly as he lowers himself. He’s only a half
of the way down before he pauses to catch his breath.

“Easy, easy,” Katsuki murmurs, petting his fuzzy thigh. God, everything is so muted
compared to the vice-like grip on his cock. Katsuki is seeing double, the violet room is
warped and fuzzy around him— Only Izuku remains in focus. Brow furrowed with
determination, face beet red and glistening with a sheen of sweat. Katsuki watches him steel
himself before sinking down another inch and fuck . Katsuki throws his head back and
moans.

“God, fucking—“ Katsuki is spewing out a string of curses. The pleasure is so mind-
shatteringly good that Katsuki can feel it in every inch of his body. Izuku takes a sharp
breath, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. With a harsh snap of his hips, he sits down
fully, and Katsuki can’t fucking breathe. Holy fucking god fucking oh my —

“Izuku,” Katsuki gasps. He scrambles to embrace him, fingers kneading into his hips. “ Izuku
.”

Izuku sighs with his whole body; Katsuki can feel his muscles flexing around his cock.
Izuku’s head is thrown back, sweat damp curls sticking to his forehead, his chest pebbled and
nipples stiff. He looks fucking amazing. Like something taken right out of Katsuki’s wildest
fantasies. Katsuki’s breathing is haggard as he stares up at Izuku in awe.

Izuku smiles. He almost looks serene. He touches his lower belly like he’s trying to feel
where Katsuki is buried inside. He giggles, shaking them both as he does, and fuck fuck fuck
fuck —

“ Holy shit ,” Katsuki hisses, gripping Izuku’s hips hard enough to leave hand prints.

“Yeah,” Izuku nods. He looks down at Katsuki with that big stupid grin still on his face.
“Holy shit.”

God, just look at him. Katsuki’s brain is scattered into eight million pieces right about now,
but he sees Izuku through it clearly. His star-speckled skin, the powerful curves of his
muscles, the sharp cut of his jaw, the elegant fall of his sweat-damp curls. He’s perfect. Izuku
possesses the kind of beauty that could tempt the gods down from the heavens, the kind that
could bewitch a man with only a look, the kind that wars are waged over and legends forged.
And he’s here. Real. Surrounding Katsuki, impaled on his cock, strong under Katsuki’s palms
and settled heavily on top of him. Katsuki is so fucking tense as he fights not to move,
allowing Izuku time to adjust. Izuku breathes in deep and Katsuki can fucking feel it.

Izuku sighs. His shoulders drop. He looks down at Katsuki and his gaze is dark with greed.
“Kacchan,” he murmurs, one hand snaking up Katsuki’s torso. Izuku rolls his hips
experimentally and fuck! The back of Katsuki’s head hits the mattress, stars bursting behind
his eyes. “Kacchan.”

Katsuki sobs. He’s so overwhelmed. The pleasure crashes through him, heat pools in his
lower belly, prickles through his limbs and lights him from within. Izuku shifts, rising up on
his knees before slamming back down, and—

“ Fuck!” Katsuki’s nails dig into Izuku’s waist and scramble for purchase. He can’t, he isn’t
going to last. Izuku’s eyes water as he bounces on his cock gently, hiccupping and smiling.

“Good?” he asks, so hopeful.

Good? A strangled sound escapes Katsuki, half-laugh, half-wordless cry. He grasps the back
of Izuku’s neck, dragging him down and seizing him in a kiss.

“ So fucking good ,” Katsuki hisses. His hands wander over every inch of him, tugging on his
hair and clawing down Izuku’s back. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Izuku giggles devolve into a broken moan and Katsuki can’t— he has to— Katsuki thrusts up
into him helplessly and oh my fucking god. They gasp as one. It feels so fucking good. It’s so
goddamn right. Katsuki’s vision goes white and he can’t stop, he can’t fucking stop— he
grabs Izuku’s hip, pulling him onto his cock and pounds into him, rough and urgent.

“Oh!” The sound is punched out of Izuku. “Oh, oh my god .”

His moans warble in the rhythm of their fucking. Their flesh slaps together so hard it stings.
It’s wet, sloppy, and desperate— Katsuki feels like an animal as he drives into him. Feral and
needing, chasing his own release with a sudden fury. Izuku’s pecs jiggle at the force of their
frantic fucking.

“Yes, yes, yes oh— hng, fuck.” Izuku’s whimpers are so delicious, the grip of his body feels
like a homecoming. Like Katsuki belongs inside him. As if they were always meant to be
joined this way and it’s only now they’re both complete. “ Oh god .”

Izuku has surrendered to him fully, body loose and wonderfully pliant. Katsuki surges
upward then. He rolls them over, flipping Izuku onto his back. Izuku gasps. His curls are
haloed around his face as the back of his head hits the mattress and Katsuki looms over him,
diving in to kiss him. Katsuki doesn’t miss a beat. He pounds into Izuku, faster now with
better leverage.

“‘S good,” Izuku slurs, raking his hands down Katsuki’s back. The bed frame creaks as
Katsuki fucks him relentlessly. Tears dribble down Izuku’s cheeks. “So good to me, always
so good—”

Katsuki isn’t going to last. He feels his orgasm building inside him, tingling in his fingertips
and toes— Some small part of his brain must come back online, because he seizes Izuku’s
dick and pumps him clumsily. Izuku wails, throwing his head back.
“Ah! Kacchan!”

It’s over in a shock of white. Katsuki’s orgasm hits him so hard it knocks the air out of his
lungs; his mind shatters into a thousand starlight fragments. It feels like his soul has been
knocked out of his body and there’s only room for deep, heady pleasure permeating every
secret part of him. Honeying him down to the very roots of his soul. He cums inside the
velvet clutch of Izuku’s body and fuck, fuck, fuck . The pleasure just keeps going . Katsuki
makes hitched, almost pained noises as Izuku milks him through it, clenching and
unclenching like the greedy little fucker he is. Katsuki is so lost in it that he barely registers
Izuku batting his hand away to take over jerking himself off.

Izuku’s cry as he cums is as sweet as it is satisfying, and Katsuki’s strength gives out with it.
He collapses on top of Izuku, nuzzling and kissing him half in a daze. The aftershocks of his
orgasm murmurs through him: Izuku, Izuku, Izuku . He kisses Izuku’s gaping mouth and
Izuku groans, ass tightening around him— Fuck! Katsuki feels a coil of too-sharp pleasure.
He can’t— he has to— he slips out of Izuku and a mess of lube and cum follows after.

It’s quiet for long moments after that. Just heavy breathing as they’re plastered together with
sweat and cum. They stroke each other reverently as they come down from their highs.
Katsuki buries himself in the crook of Izuku’s shoulder and Katsuki… smiles. His body is
buzzing with joy and the intensity of his relief. He nibbles on Izuku’s neck absentmindedly
and Izuku hums like he’s pleased.

“I love you,” Izuku breathes, almost too softly to be heard.

Katsuki’s whimper is half a sob. Fuck, it’d been too intense; Katsuki’s heart tender and
vulnerable in the afterglow. Izuku coos, nails scratching Katsuki’s scalp in the way he knows
Katsuki likes and Katsuki clings to him.

“Love you,” Katsuki echoes, hoarsely. It feels deeper now, somehow. Truer. “I love you.”

Izuku huffs a laugh. He kisses Katsuki’s cheek once.

“ I know .”

Unbelievably, there are baby wipes in the bedside drawer too. Izuku shoots him a look of
pure triumph.

“I told you they were useful,” he says, waggling his brow.

Katsuki hums, low and amused. He leans over and kisses his temple.
“Yeah, yeah, you got me,” Katsuki murmurs. He tears open the package and wipes them
down. Ugh. Sex is a lot messier than he expected. And then there’s a whoosh in his stomach
when he realizes. Fuck, they’d just had sex . Real sex. Shouldn’t he feel… different? Like
he’s achieved a milestone or become more adult somehow? But mostly Katsuki just feels
satisfied and a bit shaky. And fucking exhausted. The events of today have caught up to him
all at once and his face stretches with his yawn as he disposes the wipes in the bathroom’s
waste bin. Izuku giggles.

“Tired?” he asks, warm with amusement.

Katsuki nods and Izuku coos, shuffling over to sit on the edge of the bed and beckoning him
forward. Katsuki slumps as he sits next to him and Izuku winds his arms around his neck,
kissing him soft and sweet.

“I’ll change the sheets,” Izuku offers. Katsuki frowns, ready to protest, and Izuku cuts him
off, “Nuh uh. Lemme do this for you.”

“Still your birthday,” Katsuki protests weakly. And he’d just taken it up the ass. It’d be
ungentlemanly to make Izuku get up so soon.

Izuku tsks. He cups Katsuki’s face in his hands.

“You threw me a carnival, ” Izuku protests, shaking him a little. “Let me change the damn
sheets.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but slides off the bed to let him do so. Izuku has a slight limp, but he
makes quick work of it. There are three more sets of spare sheets in a drawer under the bed,
which— Katsuki’s cock is already stirring again with interest. God, no, he can’t. The
exhaustion is bone deep. He’s suddenly glad Izuku had taken the initiative to rent it out
tomorrow night too. Heat curls low in his gut as he thinks about all the things he wants to do
before their separation on Monday. Ugh. Katsuki wrinkles when he remembers they have five
more weeks of internships ahead of them. Fuck Fukuoka honestly. Worst city on earth.
Katsuki scowls as he fishes for underwear and a couple of t-shirts out of their overnight bag.

He dresses quickly before tossing Izuku his clothes. Izuku winces a little as he bends to tug
on his boxers and Katsuki’s chest tightens.

“Hurts?” he asks gruffly.

Izuku’s shrug is half-hearted. “Just sore.”

“So it hurts,” Katsuki deadpans and Izuku rolls his eyes fondly.

“Such a worrywart,” he scolds, shooting him a grin. “I’ll be fine.”

Katsuki ushers him to lay down and rest anyway. He brings him over a water bottle from the
room's mini-fridge.

“Thank you, baby,” Izuku says, blinking up at him prettily. Fuck. Fresh arousal is already
rising within Katsuki, but he can’t. Izuku needs to recover. Katsuki wrenches himself away
and takes the opportunity to grab their phones. He winces when he sees just how many
missed calls he has.

“You okay?” Izuku asks, setting his water bottle on the nightstand.

“Just the extras,” Katsuki mutters. He has no less than fifteen phone calls from Kaminari.
Which doesn’t seem right. Was there an emergency or were they just being annoying again?
Katsuki considers answering, but Izuku makes a noise of complaint.

“Ignore them,” he orders. He gives Katsuki a hard look. “I want you all to myself.”

Oh. Katsuki’s heart flutters.

He loves me.

Izuku wiggles in the sheets, blinking his big doe eyes up at Katsuki expectantly and the cute
aggression seizes Katsuki with sudden fury. Katsuki lets their phones drop to the floor and he
pounces on him, bouncing on the bed as he tackles Izuku onto the mattress and promptly
smothering his face with kisses. Izuku squeals.

“Kacchan!” he cries, but Katsuki doesn’t relent. His kisses are smacking and insistent:
Izuku’s cheeks, his chin, his forehead, his nose. Katsuki only stops when Izuku brings their
mouths together and they both make low, pleased noises into it. Izuku shakes them both with
his giggling. He wraps his arms around his shoulders, hooking a leg over Katsuki’s waist
until Katsuki is draped over him.

“That was so good, Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, running his hands down Katsuki’s back. Warm
buzzing trails echo in the wake of his touch.

“Yeah?” he prods. Izuku giggles.

“So good,” he assures. He kisses his mouth once. “ Kacchan sugoi .”

Katsuki means to scoff, but it comes out more like an amused huff through his nose. He can’t
help the pride swelling in his chest. He bumps their foreheads together gently.

“Happy Birthday,” Katsuki murmurs. Izuku hums happily.

“You’re not allowed to go this crazy over my birthday again,” Izuku warns him, tapping
Katsuki’s chest with his index finger.

Katsuki snorts. He doesn’t think he could if he tried. It’d only been possible because
everyone else had been so enthusiastic and God knows they won’t be after Izuku and Katsuki
had ditched early tonight.

“I won’t,” Katsuki says, petting Izuku’s hair. “I promise.”

Izuku sighs and Katsuki can hear his exhaustion. He rolls onto his back to lay beside Izuku,
tugging on the covers until they’re draped over them, and Izuku snuggles in, resting his head
on Katsuki’s chest. His curls tickle the underside of Katsuki’s chin; Katsuki strokes his back.
It’s a familiar routine. It could be a night like any other if not for their location. Izuku finds
the switch to dim the violet lights rimming the room and little stars sparkle the ceiling above
their heads, winking even in the low light.

“Next birthday let’s just come back here,” Izuku suggests. He kisses Katsuki’s collarbone
softly. “Maybe the beach too, if we feel like it.”

“Sure,” Katsuki says, and his heart flutters. Next year , he thinks. It’s a delight and a relief
that Izuku is planning to be together that long. For Katsuki’s part, he hopes they’re together
for the rest of their lives.

“I’ll have to figure something out for your birthday, though,” Izuku continues, breaking
himself off to yawn.

“No carnivals,” Katsuki quips and Izuku laughs. He jabs Katsuki in the ribs.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he mutters. He traces one finger over his chest in slow,
languid circles as he thinks. “We could go camping?”

Katsuki hums, unconvinced. “It’ll be cold as fuck in April.”

Izuku curses under his breath. “Maybe a day trip then? The planetarium?”

Katsuki huffs a laugh. He swoops in to kiss Izuku’s sweet cheek.

“Don’t overthink it, baby,” he advises. His orgasm has left him feeling pillowy-soft and
sappy so he adds, “I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.”

Izuku makes a disgruntled noise, even as Katsuki kisses him again.

“I just wanna make you feel special too,” he protests. He grips the front of Katsuki’s shirt as
if to emphasize his point.

“You do,” Katsuki promises. God knows he feels like the luckiest motherfucker on the planet
right about now. “You always do.”

Izuku huffs like that isn’t good enough. Katsuki kisses him once, thumbing along his
jawline.

“Hey,” Katsuki prods, nosing his cheek gently. “I love you.”

Izuku whimpers low in his throat. He caresses Katsuki’s face, faux-starlight glimmering in
his eyes.

“I love you too,” Izuku whispers.

Their kissing is soft and adoring. All savoring affection and slow honeyed sweetness. It
sweeps through Katsuki, warming him from head to toe. He only breaks away to yawn and
Izuku giggles.
“My sleepy Kacchan,” he says, petting his cheeks.

He’s quiet for a few beats and Katsuki’s eyelids droop. Fuck he’s so tired. He lets his eyes
shut, relaxing into their embrace. Sleep is already beckoning him.

“Today was so wonderful,” Izuku whispers to him in the dark. There’s a soft kiss placed on
his jawline. “Thank you. For everything.”

Katsuki might make some sound in response, but he can’t be sure. His exhaustion wins out
and sleep takes him easily.

Soft, gentle caresses coax Katsuki awake. He feels the familiar texture of Izuku’s fingertips
tracing his face: over his cheekbone, the arch of his brow, the slope of his nose. It’s like he’s
trying to memorize the shape of Katsuki, feeling every feature of him for himself. Katsuki’s
eyes flutter open, only a little taken aback at the unfamiliarity of the room around him.

But then he sees Izuku, hovering above him and beautiful. His hair is sleep-mussed and his
cheeks are marred with red indents like he’s just woken up too. Izuku smiles as their eyes
meet.

“Good morning,” he murmurs.

Izuku. It all comes rushing back and Katsuki’s heart stammers. The kiss, the carnival, the
hotel. Right, that’s where he is. In a love hotel with the love of his life. The joy bubbles
through Katsuki, light and free and jubilant. He can’t help the dopey smile that overtakes
him.

“Hey, baby,” he says, husky with sleep. Izuku makes a noise like it pleases him. “What time
is it?”

Izuku shrugs like the answer doesn’t matter. He resumes his ministrations, stroking the curve
of Katsuki’s cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

“Haven’t checked,” he admits. Next he runs the pad of his index finger over Katsuki’s lips.
“Been busy.”

Katsuki’s face splits into a grin. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Izuku says, a wicked glimmer in his eye. “My Kacchan is so handsome.”

Katsuki’s heart pounds in his chest heavily then. Yours, yours, take me, I’m yours . His hand
tightens on Izuku’s waist.

“How do you feel?” Katsuki asks in a gruff voice.

“Good,” Izuku answers, smiling deviously then. “Really good.”

Arousal pools low in Katsuki’s gut. Izuku searches his face hopefully.

The kiss is inevitable, irresistible, and all-consuming. Their mouths are stale with morning
breath, but Katsuki barely notices. There’s only the soft suction of Izuku’s mouth. Only
Izuku’s body sliding to fit against Katsuki’s beautifully; an arm winding around his neck and
thigh slotting between his legs. Their kissing is slow and warm and wet and deep. Izuku
grinds his thigh into his crotch gently.

“Kacchan,” he hushes into his mouth. “Kacchan.”

Katsuki already knows. He seizes Izuku in a full-bodied embrace, rolling Izuku onto his back
and the kiss turns hungry and insistent. Izuku’s squeal is muffled under Katsuki’s eager
mouth.

It doesn’t take long. They’re stripped and naked and entangled all too easily. Izuku is still
loose from earlier and fuck that does things to Katsuki. He can’t believe it’s real, but here it is
before him: evidence of Katsuki lingers in Izuku's body, a space inside Izuku is carved out
just for him. At Izuku’s urging, he snags more lube from the bedside drawer, slicking himself
up before sliding home.

They groan in unison; Izuku throws his head back against the pillows.

“I like that,” he says, breathing through his smile. He loops his arms around Katsuki’s
shoulders, legs tightening around his waist.

“Yeah,” Katsuki grunts, almost too breathless to be understood. He sits on his knees and
grinds into him gently. “Me too.”

It’s softer this time. Proper love making rather than fucking. Katsuki knows Izuku must be at
least a little sore from last night so he’s gentle, letting his cock drag along his walls without
any urgency. It’s a sweet slow agony, a pleasant, pulsing ache between his legs. Katsuki
watches himself disappear into Izuku and marvels.

“You feel so good,” Izuku whispers. Katsuki meets his gaze and shivers. It feels different this
time. It’s made all the more intimate without the frantic edge of desperation. The heat builds
between them, slow and steady.

“Y-yeah,” Katsuki says. He thumbs at Izuku’s cheekbone reverently. “Really good.”

They both pant softly as they gaze at one another. Katsuki can’t believe he’s allowed this:
Izuku’s love, his body, his desire. Izuku’s hands tighten on his shoulders and they kiss
through it, grinding and shuddering.

Izuku writhes underneath him. “Kacchan— more.”

Katsuki swallows thickly. He blinks down at him. “Are— are you sure?”

Izuku bucks up into Katsuki and ah! Katsuki hisses at the shot of white-hot pleasure.
“Not gonna break,” Izuku whispers and his eyes glint with challenge.

Katsuki doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Katsuki made him like this. Always challenging
each other, always pushing each other for more. Katsuki knows he can’t back down now. He
shifts his stance, cupping Izuku’s plush thigh in one hand and hiking it up. He thumbs the soft
skin there absently.

“Promise to tell me if it hurts,” he says and Izuku nods hurriedly.

The first thrust is sweet relief. He can see it in Izuku’s face as he throws his head back,
groaning and grinning up at the ceiling. He’s into this, Katsuki realizes with dizzying clarity.
Izuku wants it, wants it hard.

Katsuki fucks him earnestly now, picking up the pace. Izuku’s eyes go glassy. He clutches at
the satiny bedsheets.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Izuku says, moaning as Katsuki fucks him with an even rhythm. “Just like that.
Just like that, baby.”

Katsuki can’t believe how good it feels. Izuku sweetly surrendered to him, eager and bucking
into every thrust. His curls bounce as Katsuki’s hips slam against him, his thick thighs
jiggling. Fuck, his ass must look fucking amazing right now. Katsuki’s half-tempted to flip
him over and see it for himself, but then he meets Izuku’s gaze. Izuku’s wide, watery eyes
seize him like a vice, matching the sweet grip of his ass. He’s gaping at Katsuki, blissed-out,
and dreamy-eyed, and impossible to look away from. Later, fucking later. Katsuki drives into
Izuku’s body with new fierceness and Izuku cries out.

“ Oh my god ,” he whimpers. “Kacchan, Kacchan yes.”

So vocal. So responsive. Cock-drunk and babbling and fucking his . Katsuki fucks him hard
and it occurs to him that if Katsuki loves it, and Izuku loves it, then this should count as
proper love making too.

“I love you,” Katsuki rasps, seizing Izuku’s shoulder and squeezing as he holds him down.
Izuku whines.

“Love— love you,” he struggles between the pap, pap, pap of their fucking. He gazes up at
Katsuki, starry-eyed and adoring. Like he’s the center of his whole world. “Love you. I love
you.”

Katsuki’s cock throbs. “ Izuku .”

“Cum for me,” Izuku whispers, nodding frantically. “Cum for me, love. I want it.”

Katsuki pounds into Izuku thrice more and ah fuck . His orgasm washes over him, blissful
and brilliant. So much fucking better than masturbation it doesn’t even feel like a
comparison. Katsuki’s face screws up, pleasure so sharp it feels close to agony. Izuku
whimpers and Katsuki pets his leg.
“I got you, baby,” Katsuki promises, and he pulls out, hissing at the sudden cold. He shuffles
down the bed to suckle at Izuku’s cock and it only takes another moment. Izuku spurts into
his mouth with a wordless cry.

“Fuck,” Izuku curses. He threads his fingers through Katsuki’s hair. “ Kacchan .”

Katsuki swallows him down and then nuzzles his cock lovingly. God, the sweet masculine
musk of Izuku is intoxicating. He wants to live here, buried between Izuku’s legs and existing
only for his pleasure. He kisses the shaft as it twitches through the aftershocks and Izuku
whimpers.

“Come back,” Izuku pleads, tugging on the soft spikes of Katsuki’s hair. Not one to deny
him, Katsuki crawls up the bed to curl around him. Face to face, sharing air as they pant into
each other’s mouths.

“Was it—good for you?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki reels back like he’s been struck.

“What, are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki demands. Izuku giggles and squeaks as
Katsuki prods at his ribs. “You have my cum leaking out of your ass. Of course I fucking
liked it.”

Izuku’s smile is a little dazed.

“Just making sure,” he breathes. “Want it— want it to be good for Kacchan too.”

Katsuki sighs through his nose. He cups his jaw, leveling Izuku with a hard look.

“You are so fucking ridiculous,” Katsuki scolds. He thumbs over Izuku’s cheekbone. “Look
at me. Do you think I liked it?”

Katsuki doesn’t know what Izuku sees as he gazes at him. Katsuki can only watch Izuku’s
damp eyelashes tilt as he searches his face, eyes still dark with arousal and kiss-swollen
mouth softly panting. After a moment, Izuku breaks into a grin.

“You liked it,” he breathes.

Katsuki seizes him in a bruising kiss.

“I loved it,” he corrects. He rolls over and settles his whole body weight onto him. “I loved it.
I love you.”

Izuku’s giggling is high-pitched and happy. Katsuki licks the sweat off his still-heaving chest
and Izuku’s toes curl. Katsuki can't resist him. He fucks Izuku a third time, pinning his head
to the mattress, and hiking his thick ass in the air, relishing the way it recoils as he’s
pounded.

“Yes,” Izuku says, over and over again. Until he’s hoarse and breathless. “Yes, Kacchan.”
Katsuki has no idea how he’s lived without this. Izuku’s body, his love, his pleasure. He
thinks he was born to sink inside him, destined to be entwined with Izuku for all eternity.
Katsuki was shaped by him, shaped for him. Katsuki’s soul is covered in Izuku’s fingerprints.
There is no Katsuki without Izuku. Izuku is branded into him so deeply Katsuki knows he’ll
never be removed. He doesn’t have the words to express this, but he thinks Izuku feels it in
the way he fucks him. Over and over again, like Katsuki just can’t get enough. Like he wants
to imprint himself onto Izuku’s soul too.

They’re absolutely nasty by the end of it. Coated in cum and sweat and exhausted. Izuku is
boneless and bleary-eyed, but so so happy. Katsuki collapses onto the bed beside him and
Izuku grins at him dreamily.

“I love this room,” Izuku declares, words slightly slurred, and Katsuki barks out a laugh.

“The room? ” he demands. The spike of jealousy is soft, but definitely there. Izuku nods
eagerly.

“I never wanna leave it,” he says, eyes glittering and full of joy. He snuggles in close,
nuzzling their noses together. “Let’s live here forever”

Katsuki giggles helplessly. Ah, fuck. Love has made him one mushy son of a bitch, hasn’t it?
Whatever. He supposes sacrifices must be made in the name of such perfect happiness. He
cups Izuku’s jaw and kisses him once, gently.

“Alright,” he says, unusually pliant. “Deal.”

Izuku giggles, curling around him, and they sigh in content.

It’s late afternoon before they manage to pry themselves out of bed. Izuku is so sore and
wobbly-legged that Katsuki has to carry him to the bath. He lays him down into the tub and
Izuku hisses as his ass hits the porcelain.

“I told you to tell me if it hurt,” Katsuki says, sourly.

Izuku pouts up at him, doe-eyed and pleading. “But I like the hurt.”

Incredibly, by some science-defying miracle, Katsuki’s cock twitches in interest. He ignores

it. Instead he shakes his head disdainfully, unhooking the showerhead from the wall and
rinsing Izuku off. Izuku inspects the many soaps and shampoos tucked into a basket just
outside the tub.
“What do you think Cosmic Delight smells like?” Izuku asks, cracking open the cap and
sniffling experimentally.

“I dunno,” Katsuki says. He adjusts Izuku so he can rinse his back. Fuck, there’s a tug of
desire when he sees his own teeth marks in the crook of his shoulder. Izuku holds the
shampoo bottle out for him and Katsuki takes a whiff. Ugh. It’s so heavily perfumed it
borders on being gross. Katsuki wrinkles his nose.

Izuku giggles. “Don’t like it?”

“Delight my ass,” Katsuki grumbles and Izuku chooses another. Something flowery and
foamy. It’s not as good as Izuku’s familiar vanilla and chamomile body wash, but it’ll do.
Izuku is pliant as Katsuki scrubs him with the washrag. He tilts this way and that so Katsuki
can reach all of him, thighs trembling as he sits on his knees so Katsuki can get his lower
back. He washes his own legs while Katsuki cracks open the shampoo.

“Oh!” Izuku says, when Katsuki’s fingers dig into Izuku’s scalp. The tension drains from
Izuku’s body as Katsuki massages shampoo into his wild curls. “No wonder you like that.”

Katsuki breaks into a grin. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

Izuku nods, sighing as he relaxes. He has to curl his legs to his chest so Katsuki can step in
and wash himself too, but seizes onto Katsuki’s thigh when he tries to step out and dry
himself.

“Take a bath with me,” Izuku demands.

Katsuki feels a flutter, but nods his agreement. He rinses them both thoroughly before
rehooking the showerhead and turning on the faucet. He cranks up the heat until Izuku is
satisfied, flicking off the overhead light before settling in the bath with Izuku between his
legs. Izuku flips the switch on the side of the tub and the water lights up. Purples and blues
and pinks fill the room, rippling through the water.

“Wow,” he breathes. “It’s like magic.”

Katsuki snorts. “Sure.”

“We need bubbles,” Izuku decides. He procures the two bubble bath options from a little
basket next to them. “Help me choose.”

Katsuki rests his head on Izuku’s shoulder as he inspects them. “You know all this shit’s
probably extra, right?”

“I’ll pay for it,” Izuku says dismissively. He nudges Katsuki with his elbow. “All Might gave
me cash too.”

So Izuku’s mother and his pseudo-father are both funding their little sexcapade. Katsuki
makes a strangled sound and Izuku nudges him again.

“Kacchan, they’re not gonna find out,” he assures.

God he hopes not. The evidence of what they’ve done is written all over them. The slope of
Izuku’s shoulder is kiss-bit and bruised. Katsuki’s lips are chapped and he knows he’s marred
with love bites too. Katsuki makes a note to wear his winter costume on Monday, which is
gonna fucking suck in the mid-July heat. Whatever, those are problems for another day. He
leans in and nibbles one of Izuku’s tender bruises.

“Ah,” Izuku says, squirming in his lap. Fuck, the low curl of arousal is almost painful.
“That’s not helping me choose.”

“The right one,” Katsuki says, picking at random. Izuku uncaps it dutifully, and promptly
dumps half the thing out.

“Whoops!”

“Zu!” Katsuki scolds, and the bathroom echoes with Izuku’s laughter. “Don’t waste it!”

“I didn’t think it’d go that fast!” he cries.

“Fuckin’ clumsy ass,” Katsuki mutters.

“I’m sorry!”

There’s so much soap that the water feels silky with it and the bubbles stack several inches
high. The whole room is perfumed with a pleasant citrusy smell and the multicolored lights
reflect in orbs through the many bubbles. Katsuki wraps his arms around Izuku’s waist,
resting his chin against his temple, and Izuku relaxes into his embrace. The hot water is so
soothing; Katsuki feels it leech the lingering strain from his muscles.

“Do you think they’ll be mad we ditched early?” Izuku asks, quietly.

Katsuki makes a dismissive noise. “Who gives a fuck?”

Izuku’s giggles shake them both. “Kacchan! They’re our friends!”

He reaches up and pats Katsuki’s face. Katsuki nuzzles his fingers. So thick and scarred and
affectionate.

“You should at least care a little,” Izuku chastizes. The water ripples as he leans up and kisses
Katsuki’s cheek; Katsuki breaks into a grin. He loves me.

“They’ll forgive you,” Katsuki promises. Katsuki on the other hand might be a dead man. He
seems to remember something about a huge drone show to cap off the night. Oh well. It was
Izuku’s party, and Izuku had wanted to ditch early. Katsuki feels another tug of arousal; Izuku
had wanted him all to himself . He can’t help but feel a bit smug.

“Everyone worked so hard,” Izuku says, a touch of worry in his tone. “I don’t know how to
repay them.”

“You have time to think about it,” Katsuki assures. “We won’t all be together again until the
end of summer anyway.”
Which reminds him. Ugh. Stupid internships. Izuku makes a soft, whimpery sound like he’s
just remembered too. Katsuki squeezes him gently, peppering kisses along the side of his
face.

“You good?” Katsuki murmurs.

Izuku turns around, sloshing soapy bathwater over the edge of the tub as he does and planting
his face into Katsuki’s chest.

“I forgot I have to go back to Fukuoka,” Izuku says miserably. Katsuki pets his strong,
muscled back up and down.

“Don’t think about it now,” Katsuki says, even as his stomach twists. He kisses Izuku’s
temple. “Just be here. With me.”

Izuku makes a pleased noise at that.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, nuzzling into his throat,

His thick thighs bracket Katsuki’s hips, their cocks grinding against one another gently as he
nuzzles him. Katsuki’s breath hitches. How the fuck is he getting hard right now? Surely
there had to be some kind of limit. But Izuku is so naked, so warm and wet and wanting.
There’s so much skin sliding over Katsuki that it makes his mouth dry. Izuku giggles when he
feels Katsuki’s cock twitching against his own.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Katsuki announces, but Izuku only giggles harder.

“Kacchan really loves me,” Izuku says, voice soft with wonder.

“Kacchan loves you,” Katsuki assures. He kisses his forehead, his cheekbone, his throat.
“Kacchan loves you so much.”

Sex in the bath kind of sucks. There’s too much splashing, water gets absolutely everywhere,
and Izuku is so soapy that it’s hard to hold onto him. They laugh through it anyway, kissing
and leaving bubbly trails over each other’s bodies as they caress one another. Izuku scoops up
a fistful of bubbles and smears some on Katsuki’s chin deliberately.

“Bubblebeard,” he says and Katsuki sputters.

“ I’m literally inside you ,” he growls. But Izuku only giggles, eyes bright with merriment.

“You look really hot with a bubblebeard,” Izuku amends, and the laughter is forced out of
Katsuki against his will.

Izuku is really out of commission now. Katsuki carries him out of the bath, dries him, even
going so far as to dress him too. Izuku makes it difficult: nuzzling his hands when he tries to
pull a shirt over his head, peppering kisses along his shoulders and the tops of his arms as
Katsuki kneels at the edge of the bed to pull boxers over his legs. He reels him in for another
kiss once he’s done, even though Katsuki is still naked.
“Let me get dressed,” Katsuki chuffs.

“Maybe I prefer you naked,” Izuku shoots back, popping his brow. Katsuki throws a t-shirt at
his head.

Cuddling is so much nicer now that they’re in a relationship. Katsuki feels like he can fully
relax into it. There’s no fear of getting aroused, no need to be careful of his hand placements.
He can touch all of Izuku. Literally wherever he wants. Izuku giggles when Katsuki cups his
dense, powerful thigh.

“You like my legs?” Izuku asks happily. He stretches out for him like he’s showing off.

“Yeah,” Katsuki gruffs. “This too.”

He seizes a handful of his thick ass and Izuku whimpers. Shit. Katsuki cringes; he knows
Izuku is sore.

“Sorry,” Katsuki whispers and Izuku shakes his head frantically.

“Don’t,” Izuku says, seizing his face in his hands and kissing him. “Don’t be sorry for loving
me. Ever.”

Katsuki’s breath stutters into Izuku’s mouth as they kiss over and over again. Kissing until
their lips are slick and stinging.

“I like this,” Izuku says, hand sliding down to cup Katsuki’s pec.

Katsuki hums. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Izuku says, massaging the excess tissue there. “Your summer costume drives me
nuts.”

Katsuki’s face splits into a grin. “Really?”

Izuku makes a funny little sound like he’s embarrassed.

“ Cleavage ,” he says and Katsuki laughs.

Their kisses are slow and lazy, more half formed gestures of affection than proper making
out. Katsuki thinks he’s ready for a nap right as his stomach growls traitorously. Izuku snorts.

“We forgot to eat again,” Izuku tsks. He pats Katsuki’s chest. “Come on. Lemme feed you.”

He moves to get up, but as soon as he puts weight on his knee he yelps in pain. His leg
wobbles and Katsuki reaches for him, catching him before he falls and guiding him until he’s
laying down again.

“Hey, hey easy,” Katsuki says, smoothing over his shoulder as he tries to soothe him. His
chest is tight with concern. Fuck, they’ve totally overdone it, haven’t they? Katsuki should
have known. He shouldn’t have let Izuku seduce him into going so many rounds. Izuku tries
to shake him off, but Katsuki remains firm, holding him down. “Nuh uh. You’re not going
anywhere.”

Izuku blinks up at him, frowning.

“I’ve handled worse,” he says, a strange gleam of determination in his eye. Katsuki tuts,
stroking his cheek gently.

“You don’t need to handle worse when you’re with me,” Katsuki says, firmly. Izuku’s cheeks
puff with his pout and Katsuki boops his nose. “Don’t give me that look. I’ll grab us
something to eat, alright?”

Reluctantly, Izuku allows him out of his embrace long enough to raid the snack bar
downstairs. Katsuki is so hungry that he gets two of everything, even though it’s fucking
overpriced as hell. And after a little internal debate he throws in a handful of candy bars too,
because he knows Izuku will be craving something sweet after. He’s so focused on his
mission that he’d almost forgotten to be embarrassed that he’s in the entry hall of a love
hotel. And then he hears the elevator ding and the horror hits him all at once. He freezes.

Fuck, fuck. Katsuki’s face is red as he speeds toward the self-checkout. He can hear their
laughter echoing through the hall, but why would they notice him? They don’t know he’s
Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, with his back turned he could be any other blond
patron. The couple heads out the door without sparing him a glance and Katsuki breathes a
sigh of relief. His ears are stinging with his blush as he scans his items at record speed,
tossing them in the bag haphazardly before sprinting up the stairs.

Izuku bounces on the bed excitedly when Katsuki re-enters their room. (And immediately
winces, stupid fucker doesn’t know when to quit.)

“You came back!” he cries. He sits up on his knees and makes grabby hands at him. “What’d
you bring me?”

Izuku is delighted with their haul, but gets a candy bar smacked out of his hands when he
tries to eat it on the bed. Katsuki carries him over to the little table in the corner and
microwaves the ramen for him, where he’s startled to see the analog clock reads four-thirty in
the afternoon.

“Jesus,” he mumbles, shaking his head. His stomach sinks when he realizes just how little
time they have left. Izuku is turned in his chair watching him. “I gotta get your suitcase
before you leave tomorrow.”

It’s still back at Izuku’s house. Predictably, Izuku pouts.

“I’m going with you,” he says stubbornly.

“Zu,” Katsuki says, patiently. “I don’t want you to push yourself.”

“And I don’t want you to leave me,” Izuku retorts. He takes a bite out of his candy bar
angrily and Katsuki knows there’s no arguing with him. But it’s fine. He doesn’t really wanna
leave Izuku for that long either.

“We’ll get it tomorrow,” Katsuki decides. Izuku needs to rest before he’s ready to walk
anywhere anyway. Katsuki feels a complicated tangle of guilt and heady arousal knowing it’s
his fault. Izuku smiles like that’s good enough.

They absolutely demolish their ramen. And fuck if it isn’t the best meal Katsuki’s ever had.
Cheap ramen, chips, and candy bars feel like a king’s feast after going hungry for so long.
He’d been so caught up in Izuku that he hadn’t even realized he’d been absolutely ravenous.
Izuku giggles when Katsuki clutches his stomach at the end of it.

“Oh poor baby,” Izuku coos, petting his tummy. “Do you wanna lay down?”

Yeah. He’s fucking exhausted. He carries Izuku back over to the bed, where mercifully
Katsuki had already changed the sheets before their bath. Katsuki rests his head on Izuku’s
chest, letting Izuku pet his hair as he flips through the channels on the big TV.

“Oh my god,” Izuku says. “Quirk Factor has a new season.”

Katsuki grunts, only half listening. Izuku’s fingers scratching his scalp have a lulling effect
and his eyelids are already drooping.

It’s a wonderful afternoon. Mostly they just lay together and hold one another, murmuring
quietly as they watch trashy reality TV. Katsuki is soothed by the scent of his skin and the
rhythm of his breathing. He drifts in and out of consciousness, only stirring when Izuku can’t
withhold his gasps at the predictable twists. Katsuki only catches fragments. It’s some
gimmicky show about pitting quirks against quirks to see which is strongest.

“This is stupid,” Katsuki mutters, when a water-quirk girl gets eliminated after not
completing the obstacle course in time. “If any of their quirks were actually good they’d be
heroes instead’ve doin’ this shit.”

Izuku shakes with quiet laughter underneath him. He dips to kiss Katsuki’s brow.

“We can’t all be as amazing as you are, Kacchan,” he says and Katsuki nudges him with his
knee.

The season must start to bore Izuku after a while, because Katsuki wakes to a soft suckling
on his jaw. Katsuki is on his back with Izuku draped over him and kissing him lovingly.
Katsuki must make some sign that he’s awake because Izuku hums in hello. He mouths a wet
trail of kisses down Katsuki’s throat and syrupy heat pools in Katsuki’s gut.

“What’re you doin’ nerd?” Katsuki asks lowly.

“Loving you,” Izuku answers, lips smacking as he sucks a bruise into the juncture of
Katsuki’s throat. Katsuki wraps a leg around him, pulling Izuku flush against his hardening
cock. He feels Izuku’s lips stretch into a grin against his skin.

“You’re gonna be limping tomorrow,” Katsuki warns him.

“That’s fine,” Izuku hushes, warm breath washing cool over the wet trail he’s left on
Katsuki’s throat. “Wanna feel you. Wanna feel it all week until I’m with you again.”

Fuck. Katsuki’s cock pulses in his boxers. He really shouldn’t— He should talk Izuku into
doing something else instead, a blow job or mutual masturbation— But Izuku meets his gaze
and his eyes are dark and undeniable. Katsuki nods hurriedly as Izuku sits on his knees and
shimmies out of his boxers.

Izuku does all the work, kissing Katsuki’s belly and thighs as he peels Katsuki out of his
boxers, slicking up Katsuki’s cock for him before promptly sitting on it. Katsuki throws his
head back and gasps; Izuku’s sigh is so content, so satiated.

“It’s so good,” Izuku whispers, already rocking gently. “You’re so good. How are you so
good?”

Katsuki is too fuzzy-headed to respond. The soft slapping of skin against skin fills the room
as the TV keeps playing on behind them. Katsuki holds his hips and grinds up into him.
Katsuki must find the sweet spot because Izuku cries out. He lurches forward suddenly,
bending over Katsuki’s body in an arch and catching himself on the bed frame.

Beep!

He must have hit something. The LED lights switch onto some sort of party mode. Lasers
dart around the room, multicolored lights flashing and pulsing like they’re in a club. Some
panel in the ceiling retracts aside and a little disco ball descends. Izuku bursts into laughter
and Katsuki hisses when it makes him squeeze his cock.

“What the fuck is this?” Katsuki snaps.

Izuku shrugs, dabbing tears from his eyes. “I dunno.”

Whatever. They fuck through it. They’re all too quickly lost in each other, groping and
grinding as Izuku rides Katsuki’s cock. It doesn’t matter that the room is washing red, pink,
purple, and blue like they’re at a rave. The dancing lights aren’t even a distraction. There’s
only them. Only Izuku’s mouth gaping as he comes, t-shirt slipped to one side to expose his
well-bitten collarbone, thighs quivering around Katsuki as he rides through his orgasm. He’s
so unbelievably sexy that Katsuki finds himself flipping him over and going again. And then
a third time, so harshly that Izuku’s thighs are a stinging red as Katsuki pounds into him
frantically. Izuku looks completely wrecked as he babbles through it happily, telling Katsuki
how good he is, how much he’s loved, how Izuku can’t live without his cock. Katsuki cums
dry, which he didn’t even know was possible , and Izuku beams like it’s a victory.

“Turn this shit off,” Katsuki orders, gesturing at the still-ongoing party lights. Izuku giggles
as he obeys, even as his limbs wobble.

They’re so wrung out they don’t even bother changing the sheets. They wipe themselves off
haphazardly with baby wipes, scooch over to the dry side, and cuddle together. Katsuki is
splayed out on back as Izuku wriggles close, snuggling into the crook of his throat.
 “This is the best day of my life,” Izuku announces.

Katsuki snorts, but he’s pleased. Take that stupid carnival. He combs Izuku’s curls out of his
face.

“Yeah,” he admits. “Mine too.”

Izuku exhales in soft disbelief. He cranes his neck to look up at him and his emerald eyes are
misty.

“You mean it?” he asks, softly.

Needy, Katsuki thinks. But he also sort of loves it. He really loves me . Katsuki kisses his
forehead tenderly.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

Izuku relaxes into his embrace. If Katsuki were a cheesy, corny fuck, he might think that the
phrase ‘in love’ has never made more sense. He feels cocooned by it, cradled in the warm
dreamy afterglow of so much sex and tender affection. Like love is a tangible thing hanging
thick in the air around them.

Izuku’s breathing becomes deep and even, and Katsuki’s lashes flutter shut. He curls around
Izuku and allows himself to drift off. Too drowsy and fucked-out to remember to set an
alarm. Too caught up in the simple joy of being together to even remember their phones are
lying dead in their discarded jeans on the floor. Too relaxed to care about any of it.

Chapter End Notes

lol ok maybe i lied maybe there's a tiny bit more plot left uh oh

i'd like to say this is the last time the chapter count goes up but clearly i have no real
grasp on estimating how long something is going to take so lets just keep it a tentative
ten for now and hope i manage to wrangle this laksjdfkl sorry they just kind of hang out
in this one !! Hopefully it’s still enjoyable

shout out to @hanode_art FOR THE GORGEOUS AMAZING STUNNING ART but
also also for the really cute idea of izuku wanting to go to an all might themed hotel
room i thought it was too funny not to include and thank you once again kay
@levisothereye and @Fawn_Eyed_Girl for beta reading for me !!

hehe please PLEASE tell me your favorite part down in the comments below!! hearing
what you think always means the most to me and keeps me motivated to keep going <3
<3 <3 come say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr !!
thank you love you <3
 happily ever after or whatever
Chapter Notes

tw for canon typical violence in this chapter and a gentle reminder that this fic is canon
divergent starting from around chapter 417 or so and i'm interpreting the manga with a
heavy-bkdk biased view lol enjoy <3

thank you to @Fawn_Eyed_Girl and @SammyINL for beta reading for me i really
needed it and you two helped me so so much

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The morning is golden and beautiful. Sunlight streams in through the glittering drapes
overhanging their windows. The soft sounds of rolling traffic fill the air, and their room is
warm and comfortable. Katsuki is completely relaxed as he spoons Izuku from behind, arms
wrapped around him snuggly and face buried in his curls. They’re both naked as they lie
together, draped in mauve, satin sheets; Izuku smells citrusy from their bath, and heady as it
mixes with the scent of sex. Katsuki can’t get enough of it. He’s still half asleep as he drinks
it in deeply. God, it feels so good to hold him like this. Just the two of them, with nothing in
between. Katsuki is smiling as he noses Izuku’s nape, smearing lazy kisses down the ridges
of his spine. Izuku whimpers low in his throat.

“K’chn…” he murmurs, fabric rustling as he squirms in Katsuki’s arms. “Tired.”

Katsuki hums a sympathetic note, even as he smirks.

“Someone wore you out,” he murmurs.

Izuku’s giggle is soft and sleepy. His hand slides over Katsuki’s arm, drawing it more tightly
around him. He interlaces their fingers before pressing Katsuki’s palm to his chest.

“Bad Kacchan,” Izuku teases. He stoops in and presses soft kisses to the backs of his
knuckles.

It’s wonderful. Katsuki feels perfect contentment. The slope of Izuku’s shoulder is heavily
splotched with love-bites and bruises and Katsuki relishes it. He’s done this to Izuku,
evidence of their love is written on his skin, embedded into his flesh. Katsuki kisses each
mark, lips gliding between each one like connecting stars into a constellation.

“Kacchan,” Izuku complains, wiggling again. “I’ll get horny.”

There’s a thrum of greed low in Katsuki’s belly. When he speaks his voice is raspy.
“That’s fine,” he says, pushing the silky blanket down to Izuku’s hips. His broad, chiseled
back is a sight to behold. All powerful muscle and sun-kissed skin, and fuck, Katsuki’s cock
twitches when he sees Izuku has hand-prints bruised into his waistline. “I’ll take care of
you.”

He trails kisses down the glorious ripples of his back muscles, tongue following the dips and
curves and laving over freckles. Izuku whimpers low in his throat.

“Kacchan,” he breathes, but he rolls onto his belly obediently, bending one knee as he pops
his ass out. Izuku hisses at the small movement and Katsuki’s blood runs cold.

“Hurts?” Katsuki asks hoarsely. Izuku nods and Katsuki smooths a hand down his back
soothingly. Fuck, it must be bad if Izuku is admitting it. Katsuki’s seen him run around with
broken arms for fuck’s sake. Katsuki props himself up an elbow and almost winces too.
Apparently sex is an incredible core workout. Oh god. He cringes when he realizes. If
Katsuki is sore then how bad must Izuku be feeling right now? Katsuki yanks the silky
blankets off Izuku’s lower half and blanches.

“Fuck, Izuku,” Katsuki curses. He can already see that Izuku's ass is red. Izuku whimpers
when Katsuki pulls one cheek back and oh sweet Jesus. His poor little hole is so raw and
abused. The rim is puffy and still gaping from yesterday and it’s both arousing and horrifying
to look at. “Oh my god, baby.”

Izuku whines pitifully, wiggling out of Katsuki’s hold. (Katsuki refuses to be swayed by the
way his thick ass jiggles.)

“Don’t just stare at it,” Izuku complains. He arches his back and a painful little sound escapes
him. “Touch me.”

Katsuki reels back like he’s been struck.

“I’m not touching you when your asshole looks like this,” Katsuki snaps, gesturing with his
hand.

Izuku cranes his neck and hits Katsuki with a pleading, kicked-puppy look. “But Kacchan—”

Katsuki taps his ass very lightly and Izuku yips, shoulders bunching as he jolts. Katsuki
curses. Stupid, stubborn fucker.

“You can’t take me right now, baby,” Katsuki tsks, rubbing over Izuku’s ass with a soothing
hand. Izuku whine is truly pitiful.

“ Kacchan ,” he says it like Katsuki is being demonstrably cruel. His bottom lip juts out as he
pouts. “Said you’d take care of me.”

Katsuki pets his leg up and down, pulling on Izuku’s thigh until he’s rolled onto his back.

“More than one way to do that,” Katsuki rumbles.

Izuku is so gorgeous splayed out like this, his perfect naked body on display like an offering.
God, it hits Katsuki all over again that Izuku is his boyfriend. This beautiful, perfect creature
belongs to Katsuki . The thought stokes Katsuki’s hunger for him.

Izuku gives him a slow, wicked grin like he can read his thoughts. He settles back against the
satiny pillows and spreads his legs. “Yeah?”

Katsuki only hums in response, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Izuku’s chest as he
shuffles down the bed. He kisses his plush pec, his sternum, and then drags his tongue down
the ripples of his abdominals. Izuku shivers underneath him.

“Kacchan spoils me,” he whispers, almost sounding reverent.

“I better,” Katsuki says, words hushing over the v of Izuku’s hips. He laps at his hipbone and
watches goosebumps rise on Izuku’s taut belly. “You deserve it.”

Izuku makes a strained, whimpery sound. “I— I do?”

Stupid nerd. How can he doubt Katsuki? Hasn’t he proved it? Isn’t Izuku’s body aching and
bruised with the evidence of Katsuki’s affection?

“You deserve everything,” Katsuki assures him. He doesn’t even care if Izuku is being needy,
he just wants him to know. “You deserve the whole fucking world. You deserve all I can give
you.”

Izuku makes a sound that sounds dangerously close to a sob. “ Kacchan. ”

“I mean it,” Katsuki whispers. He grips his thick, delicious thigh and relishes the way his
fingers sink into Izuku’s plush flesh. He pushes his leg out, spreading him further. “I love
you.”

Izuku sobs for real this time and Katsuki nuzzles at his cock adoringly. God, Katsuki loves
the grounding, masculine musk of him. Earthy and invigorating and real. He gives the head
of Izuku’s dick fat kiss and Izuku hisses.

“I love you,” Izuku echoes helplessly. “I love you so much.”

Katsuki… believes him. The certainty he feels surprises him. It’s like the truth is anchored in
his chest, an undeniable pillar of his reality. The sky is blue, grass is green, and Izuku loves
him. He can’t doubt it. Not even if he wanted to.

“I love you more,” Katsuki returns, and he dives in, taking Izuku’s cock in his mouth as if to
prove it. Izuku throws his head back and gasps, twisting underneath him as wet, sloppy
sounds fill the room.

“Oh my god.” Izuku’s chest heaves, one hand snaking down to grip Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki
shivers as his nails scrape over his scalp. “Baby.”

Katsuki hums around a mouthful of dick, which seems to be a good move if Izuku’s shocked
little cry is anything to go by.
“ So good ,” Izuku praises, tugging on Katsuki’s hair. And then his brows pinch slightly.
“How are you so good at this?”

Heh. Katsuki can’t help but feel a bit smug at that. He comes off Izuku’s cock with a slick
pop and grinning as he drags luxurious kisses down Izuku’s shaft, not breaking eye contact
once. Izuku’s little frown deepens.

“Have— have you done this before?” Izuku asks. His voice is thin, almost like he’s afraid.
Katsuki snorts.

“No, idiot,” He means to scold him, but it just comes out soft. Izuku still looks suspicious and
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Your stalker ass would know if I’d been with anyone else.”

Izuku’s brows arch like he hadn’t considered that and Katsuki’s grin is absolutely wicked.

“Not even gonna deny it?” he teases. He gives Izuku’s twitching dick a little kiss and Izuku’s
toes curl at Katsuki’s sides. Izuku shrugs one shoulder, tilting his head to the side shyly.

“Couldn’t help it,” he answers sweetly. “I loved you.”

God. It’s like Izuku is trying to murder him. Katsuki abandons the blow job, crawling over
Izuku and seizing him in several smacking, open mouthed kisses all right in a row. Izuku
giggles as he hugs Katsuki with his whole body, matching Katsuki’s intensity with ferocity of
his own, and god it’s so fucking good. It’s messy, wonderfully eager, and so loving that
something in Katsuki’s chest softens with it. The jagged walls keeping his heart safe are all
melting , dissolving to useless mush as Katsuki surrenders to the warm embrace of Izuku’s
love.

“There was never anyone else,” Katsuki murmurs, cupping his jaw in his hand as he kisses
him over and over again. “It’s just you.”

Izuku whimpers into his mouth. “Just me?”

Katsuki nods, so close that their noses brush. “Only you.”

It seems to be the right answer. Izuku clings to him, giggling as he rolls Katsuki onto his back
and promptly smothers every inch of his face with kisses. Katsuki submits to it. Relaxing and
grinning like a fucking idiot as Izuku’s peppering kisses fill the room with sweet, smacking
noises. It’s innocent until it’s not. Izuku’s kisses wander lower, tongue peeking out as he
suckles on the line of Katsuki’s jaw and Katsuki shivers. His skin rises, nipples stiffening in
response.

“Zu,” Katsuki murmurs. He’s so relaxed; he tilts his head to the side, allowing Izuku more
access. Fuck, it feels too good.

“Mmm,” Izuku says, nibbling one of Katsuki’s tender bruises. “Can’t say such sweet things if
you don’t want me to love on you.”

That’s not what Katsuki meant. But before he can clarify, he opens his eyes. His face is still
angled to the right as Izuku works down the line of his throat and Katsuki makes direct eye
contact with the microwave on the far side of the room.

Seven forty-five , the little red numbers read.

Katsuki’s blood freezes. Icy needles pierce his heart. What?

No, no that can’t be right. He seizes Izuku’s shoulders and shoves him off. Izuku detaches
from his neck with a huff.

“Kacchan, rude,” he complains, but Katsuki is too busy reaching for the nightstand. Phone,
phone, where is his fucking phone? Where the hell did he plug his phone in?

“Babe, check your phone, what time is it?” Katsuki demands. Izuku glances at the bedside
table and frowns when he finds it empty.

“Where did we—?” Izuku begins mumbling as they start their search. Not on the bedside
table, not in the bed, not knocked onto the floor. Katsuki spots their discarded jeans from
their first night here and his stomach sinks. Fuck, he never plugged it in did he? Shit, shit,
shit. Katsuki scrambles out of bed, crawling on his hands and knees, snatching up his phone
—

Dead. His phone is fucking dead.

“Shit!” he curses. He grabs Izuku’s phone but it’s dead too. “Zu— fuck, we slept in.”

Izuku is rummaging through the bedside drawer as his gaze snaps over to him. “What?”

“You should’ve been on a train fifteen minutes ago,” Katsuki says, and his stomach fucking
plummets. They’re so dead. They’re so fucking screwed. There’s no way they won’t write
them up for being late coming back. They’re still on a trial-period for proving they can
overcome their codependency; their fucking hero licenses are on he line. This will go right on
top of their already fat stack of incident reports. Their dreams, their careers, their hero
agency. God, Katsuki’s fingertips are cold. His mind is reeling. This is it, this is exactly the
kind of slip up the Hero Commision Board was waiting for. They won’t buy their excuses; in
their eyes, it’ll look like Katsuki and Izuku had skipped out on their hero duties to spend
more time together and— and— “Fuck!”

Izuku covers his mouth with a hand. “Shit. ”

It’s a flurry of motion and madness. Katsuki tosses Izuku clean clothes to wear and Izuku
goes white when he stands to change, but he grits his teeth through it. Katsuki scoops up
everything they own and stuffs it into their duffle bag gracelessly. His vision is blurry with
his panic. Their teachers are going to fucking murder them. They won’t buy their excuses,
they’ll somehow twist this into evidence that Katsuki and Izuku are too codependent for their
hero licenses. Their future, their dreams everything— All because Katsuki didn’t bother to
plug in his fucking phone. He does such a bad job that the zipper on the bag won’t go all the
way, but Katsuki doesn’t have the time to fight it.
“You have everything?” Izuku demands. God, he’s shaking where he stands, but at least he’s
dressed. At Katsuki’s nod, Izuku takes one tremulous step toward the door and Katsuki
curses. He throws the duffle bag over his shoulder and reaches for Izuku.

“Come here, baby,” Katsuki says.

He lets Izuku lean his weight onto him as they hobble out of the room arm-in-arm. Fuck,
they’re going too slowly. Katsuki can see Izuku is pushing himself, but it feels like an
eternity before they make it down the elevator. Izuku deposits their keys in a return chute,
and has to pay a late fee, which fucking sucks, but what’s worse is just how long the machine
takes to process payment. Katsuki stares at the stupid little loading animation until it’s burned
into his retinas, but it’s still thinking. Fuck, they don’t have time for this.

As soon as their receipt spits out the slot, Katsuki makes an executive decision. He stoops,
scooping Izuku into a bridal carry and sprinting for the door. Izuku squawks in protest.

“Kacchan!” he cries, throwing his arms around him.

“No time!” Katsuki snaps back. He kicks the door open harshly and charges forward.

As soon as they’re on the sidewalk, Katsuki breaks into a run. Several people passing in the
streets stop to gawk at them, some muttering their disapproval and sending them dirty looks.
Izuku makes a strangled sound.

“ People are staring ,” he complains.

Katsuki barely hears him. He barely sees the people shooting daggers at him as he shoves
past them. He’s too busy doing some frantic mental calculus. Maybe if he’s fast enough he
can get Izuku on the next train out. If Izuku heads straight to Mirko’s office, and doesn’t stop
drop off his things at his hotel, he might just make it in time. It’ll be cutting it close, but
Katsuki can’t let himself imagine what kind of trouble they’ll be in if Izuku is late. Fuck, he
grits his teeth as he forces himself to run faster. He’d blast his way to the train station if it
wouldn’t get them in more trouble.

Thank god Izuku has a seasonal pass for the train. They scan Izuku’s keycard at the kiosk
with Izuku still in his arms and Katsuki has to side-step to carry Izuku through the turnstile.
The train station is absolutely packed. It’s later in the day than they’re used to and there’s so
many people that it’s almost impossible to weave through them all without Izuku’s feet
bumping into someone. Izuku mutters his apologies as Katsuki marches through carelessly.
Thankfully, everyone is too busy navigating rush hour traffic to pay them any mind.

They’re ten feet away when the train’s warning chime goes off.

Fuck! Katsuki’s bloodstream is lanced with adrenaline. They’re so close. Katsuki can read
the red, scrolling text rimming the walls of the platform; the eight o’clock train hasn’t left yet
and Katsuki’s heart flares with hope. Izuku shouldn’t be too late if he takes this train.
Katsuki’s thighs are burning, his lungs feel three sizes too small, but he forces himself to
keep moving faster. He pushes past strangers, ignoring their muttered complaints and
disapproval as he carries Izuku all the way until they’re stepped over the threshold. Katsuki
sets Izuku onto the train directly.

“Bye,” Katsuki says, breathless from the exertion. He steps back onto the platform and Izuku
wobbles slightly, grabbing onto the train’s handrail for support. “Text me when you’re there
safe.”

Hopefully Izuku can charge his phone on the train. Katsuki passes him the duffle bag. It’s not
much, and most of the clothes inside are dirty, but hopefully it’ll be just enough to tide Izuku
over until Katsuki can bring him his suitcase later. They’ll meet at a half-way point or
something, Katsuki doesn’t know. Izuku anchors himself with the handrail as he leans out of
the train carriage, seizing Katsuki by the scruff of his neck and yanking him forward. He
crushes their mouths together in a fierce kiss.

“I will,” Izuku says, and then he kisses him twice more. Softer this time. “I’ll see you soon.”

Katsuki’s strained heart flutters at the affection. He lets his eyes close, savoring their
closeness.

“See you soon,” he echoes, murmuring the words against his mouth.

The warning chime sounds off again. The doors hiss as they unlatch and prepare to shut.
Katsuki leaves Izuku with one last kiss, just barely ducking back before the doors close in on
them. Izuku leans on the handrail and doesn’t move to find a seat. Instead he stares at
Katsuki, pressing his hand against the windowpane.

“I love you,” he says, muffled through the glass.

“I love you more,” Katsuki answers, still breathing heavily. Izuku smiles at him and it’s like
sunlight bursting through a cloud barrier.

They’re going to be okay, Katsuki realizes then. No matter what their teachers say, no matter
what gets put on their file, Katsuki will still have Izuku and that’s all that matters. Katsuki
takes two steps back as the train chugs forward, and watches Izuku as he’s whisked away.
Izuku blows him one last kiss before the train disappears into the tunnel and Katsuki’s heart
flips over.

Cheesy ass bastard, Katsuki thinks.

He waits for the pain to come. The hollow pit of agony their separation always leaves him
with. And it still hits him, but it’s muted now. Izuku’s love is a talisman in Katsuki’s chest,
warding the worst of Izuku’s loss like a hot cup of cocoa staves off a cold winter’s day.

He loves me, Katsuki reminds himself and it warms him right down to the core.
Strengthening him, inspiring him. Katsuki seizes onto new resolve. Izuku will come back to
him. Because he loves him.

As Katsuki pushes through the exit, he touches his mouth with two careful fingers. His lips
are damp and a bit bruised from a full weekend of kissing. Katsuki can’t help grinning. Izuku
. He licks his lips, and thinks he tastes just a little of Izuku left over.

Katsuki manages to shower, charge his phone, and down some breakfast before heading to
Jeanist’s agency. He’s thrown on a scarf, despite the mid-July heat, because he really does
look like he’s been mauled by a wild animal. Forcing his mentor to see that seems…
disrespectful. Not that the scarf is any less damning, but at least Jeanist wouldn’t have to look
at Izuku’s teeth marks and know exactly what Katsuki had been up to. Katsuki is still
flushing as he marches toward the agency’s lockerroom to change. Fat Gum’s agency is still
in the middle of their remodel, so Kirishima is already there and changed into his hero
costume. And oddly, Kaminari is too.

“Dude!” Kaminari cries, grasping him by the shoulders and giving him a vigorous shake.
“Where the hell have you been?!”

Katsuki smacks him away with a growl. Goddamn moron is pressing on fresh bruises like a
fucking idiot.

“None of your fucking business,” Katsuki says before scowling at him questioningly. “What
the hell are you doing here?”

Kaminari sputters like the question is ridiculous. “Mount Lady had a conference this week, so
I got transferred here. What does it matter? You ditched us!”

Kaminari punctuates this with a little shove and Katsuki has to bite back a sound of
frustration. Great, this is just Katsuki’s luck. Kirishima he could handle, but Kaminari? Shit.
That nosy-ass bastard doesn’t know what’s good for him. There’s no way Katsuki is going to
be able to hide all his love-bites with Kaminari around. Kirishima frowns at Katsuki, looking
extremely put out.

“We were worried sick about you,” he scolds, shaking his head. “We called you all weekend.
We looked everywhere for you!”

“You guys missed our firework finale!” Kaminari cries, putting his hands on his hips like a
lecturing mother. “ And the drone show!”

Neither of them seem to notice the scarf. Katsuki feels a small flicker of hope. Maybe, if he
kept them talking, he could change in a shower stall and avoid them seeing the mess of
hickies on his throat altogether. He puts on his most unimpressed face.

“Zu was tired,” Katsuki answers dismissively. He pushes past them to access his locker.
Thank fucking god he’d brought his winter uniform to Jeanist’s incase his summer one got
damaged. “Had to dip early.”
“You guys didn’t even say goodbye!” Kaminari cries and he throws his hands in the air in
exasperation. Katsuki sighs as he snatches up his costume, slamming his locker shut and
turning to march past them toward the shower stalls. Kaminari clasps a hand on his shoulder
and stops him in his tracks. “Dude, seriously what were y—”

Katsuki sees the moment it clicks. Kaminari’s hand is still braced on his shoulder, fingers
brushing against the soft beige fabric of Katsuki’s very out of place scarf. His thin yellow
eyebrows pinch in confusion. Katsuki wrenches out of his grip, but the light of understanding
is blazing in Kaminari’s eyes.

“ Dude ,” Kaminari says, tone loaded with suspicion.

“Shut up,” Katsuki snaps instinctively.

“What?” Kirishima says, glancing between them. Kaminari breaks into a grin and Katsuki
gives him a hard shove. Kaminari’s hand shoots out, reaching for his scarf— Katsuki only
barely manages to dodge, leaping over the locker room’s benches and sprinting for the
shower stall.

“Bakugou!” Kaminari cries. “Bakugou Katsuki, why the hell are you wearing a scarf right
now?”

Katsuki slams the stall door behind him and locks it quickly. Kirishima gasps.

“Wait!” he laughs. “Oh my god, Bakugou! What are you hiding from us?”

Fuck, they’re too delighted. Katsuki’s cheeks sting with embarrassment.

“ Mind your fucking business ,” Katsuki growls.

“Bro,” Kirishima says and Katsuki can hear his stupid grin.

“ Dude ,” Kaminari adds. Katsuki can hear them right outside the door. “Come on, Bakugou.
How bad is it?”

Really bad. Catastrophic even. When Katsuki had examined himself in the mirror this
morning, he’d counted almost a dozen love-bites encircled around his throat like a collar,
some plunging down to mar the swells of his chest. Not to mention the scratches trailing
down his back. Evidence of what he and Izuku have done is written all over him. God, he
does not wanna talk about sex with those two bozos.

“Can’t a guy get changed in fucking peace?” Katsuki snaps.

“No way, man,” Kaminari says. Katsuki doesn’t have to see him to know he’s got his hands
on his hips and a smug look on his face. “You fuckin’ owe us this.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” Katsuki hisses.

“You totally owe us!” Kaminari protests. His voice echoes off the tiled walls. “After all that
shit we did for you? Remember the fucking carnival?”
Ugh. Katsuki’s forehead collides with the shower stall door. Okay maybe he owes them a
little. And ditching early was a dick move... Katsuki remembers the imprint of Izuku’s teeth
on his collarbone and shakes his head fiercely.

“Ask for somethin’ else,” Katsuki grouses.

“Aw, dude, don’t be shy!” Kirishima says good-naturedly. “You’ve seen my hickeys!”

It’s a poor comparison. Kirishima’s had one or two hickeys at most and they were smaller
and easy to cover up. Katsuki looks like a well-loved chew toy in comparison.

“Come on,” Kaminari goads. He nudges the shower door with his knee and makes it jiggle.
“We’ll protect you from Uraraka’s wrath if you show us.”

“Dude, she’s pissed,” Kirishima adds, and oh wonderful . That’s just about the last thing
Katsuki needs right now. “The drone show was her idea and you missed it.”

Fuck! Katsuki cringes, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. He thinks of Izuku’s giggling as
they ran off together, their stolen kisses, his moans as Katsuki pressed him into the mattress.
Fuck, wait no. Don’t think about that now.q

“Why the hell do you pervs wanna see it anyway?” Katsuki demands.

“I mean, it must be pretty bad if you’re hiding it,” Kaminari reasons. He tsks. “And Midoriya
seems like such a goodie-goodie too.”

“Showing off your hickeys is manly, dude!” Kirishima declares and Kaminari giggles.
Dumbasses are so not subtle. Katsuki knows they just wanna point and laugh.

“Can we drop this?” Katsuki asks, flatly.

“You ditched us!” Kaminari repeats. He bangs on the door with an angry fist. “We did all that
shit for you! Setting up games, and tables. All that fucking food, and prizes and rides.
Remember the fucking Ferris Wheel? Hundreds of thousands of yen were poured into that
thing and you ditched it to get a hickey, so I wanna see the fucking hickey!”

Katsuki’s face screws up in distaste as he forces himself to think. He’s quiet for long, drawn
out moments, but he doesn’t see a way out of it. He’s only delaying the inevitable. There’s no
way he can avoid Kirishima and Kaminari all week. The best he could do was avoid being
seen until they hopped in the showers after their shift and pray to god Kaminari wouldn’t
snatch off his scarf the first chance he got. Maybe it was best to rip the bandaid off now.
Fuck, if it isn’t embarrassing as hell though.

“You fuckers aren’t allowed to laugh,” Katsuki grouses, tugging the scarf off halfheartedly.

“We won’t laugh,” Kaminari assures, but they’re both already giggling. Goddamn irritating
motherfuckers. Katsuki takes a steadying breath. He undoes the lock and lets the door swing
open, leveling Kaminari and Kirishima with his flattest look.

They both scream.

“ Holy shit! ” Kirishima cries, doubling over and bursting into hysterics immediately.
Kaminari’s wordless shriek echoes off the tiled walls and Katsuki hisses at him to shut the
fuck up. Kaminari covers his mouth with both hands, going maroon as he cackles like a
hyena. Kirishima stumbles sideways, bracing himself against the wall as his whole body
convulses with laughter.

“What did he try to brand you? ” Kaminari shrills.

“I can’t!” Kirishima wheezes. Tears prickle in his eyes as he laughs. “Oh my god,
Midoriya!”

Katsuki is flushed all the way to his ears; his cheeks are stinging with embarrassment and he
sort of wants to throw up. No, no, just get dressed. He starts stuffing himself into his winter
uniform as Kaminari and Kirishima both fall to the floor with their mad, cackling laughter.
Their bodies are heaving, fat tears streaming down their cheeks as their red-red faces contort
with mirth. Kaminari clutches at his stomach and complains about stitches. They both look so
stupid that it’s almost amusing. Almost.

Katsuki zips up the mercifully high collar of his uniform and feels a rush of relief. He rounds
on them with a hard look.

“You pervs get what you fuckin’ wanted?” he demands.

“Yeah!” they say in unison, eyes bright and earnest. Katsuki rolls his eyes and marches back
to his locker. Kaminari and Kirishima struggle to collect themselves as they chase after him.

“I didn’t know Midoriya had it in him!” Kirishima cries, breathless with giggling.

“Fuck!” Kaminari says. He dabs his eyes as he sniffles, hiccuping uncontrollably. “No
wonder you two ran off!”

Katsuki stuffs his civilian clothes into his locker with a huff. He still feels a small twist of
guilt for abandoning them without a word so he asks, “Am I forgiven now?”

Kaminari nods hurriedly and Kirishima says, “Yeah, dude, totally!”

Katsuki hates that he’s slightly relieved. Kaminari throws an arm around his shoulders and
pumps a fist in the air.

“We did it!” he cries. “We got Bakugou laid!”

Kirishima cheers and Katsuki somehow finds himself wrangled into a group hug, sandwiched
between them with an ugh . Katsuki's palms crackle to life threateningly, but his friends only
laugh and tug him closer.
It all works out. Kirishima helps Katsuki smooth things over with Uraraka and Mirko didn’t
even notice Izuku coming in fifteen minutes late. Izuku confesses to Katsuki that when he’d
gone to apologize for his tardiness, she’d laughed him off before sending him home for his
obvious limp. Katsuki can’t help but feel a bit smug.

“And you wanted to go again,” Katsuki says, smirking. Izuku flushes at him through the
screen.

It’s easier to be apart now that they’re dating. Somehow, Izuku’s love imbues him with
immunity against the agony of missing him. Katsuki sleeps easier, he eats better, and his days
are less miserable. Each text from Izuku is a little shot of sunshine spurring him onward,
every call brings Katsuki peace. He checks Izuku’s location less obsessively, feels less
anxiety when hours stretch between texts, and stops feeling an itch under his skin every time
he’s reminded that Izuku isn’t around. He realizes that he doesn’t need to cling to Izuku to
keep him; Izuku will come back willingly. He’ll come back to Katsuki time and time again
because he loves him.

Tanaka is extremely pleased with this progress. She’d known something was up the second
he’d stepped into her office, sensing his overwhelming happiness immediately with her nosy-
ass quirk. She’d given Katsuki a look over her horn-rimmed glasses, a wry little grin tugging
on her lips.

“There,” she had said, shaking her head fondly. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Katsuki would be irritated if he wasn’t so ridiculously, stupidly happy. He forced himself to

roll his eyes anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so or whatever,” he said dismissively and Tanaka threw back her
head and laughed.

The final weeks of their internships are a breeze. The distance is still a pain, but it’s not all
bad. Phone sex is incredible. Katsuki loves the hushed intimacy of it, hearing the desperation
in Izuku’s voice as Katsuki gets him off with his words alone. Katsuki forces Izuku to admit
all the dirty things he thinks about him, all his most perverse desires. It’s such a powerful
rush realizing that Katsuki can get Izuku going without even touching him. That it’s actually
Katsuki that Izuku wants, not just his body or his touch, but whatever of Katsuki that Izuku
can get. Even if it’s just his voice.

And god their reunions are so sweet. Katsuki never gets sick of the way Izuku breaks into a
grin at the sight of him, color blooming across his face and light dazzling in his eyes. Izuku
always runs into his arms and kisses him like they’ve been separated for years rather than
days. God knows the regulars at their train stop must be sick of them, but Katsuki can’t find it
within himself to care. Not when kissing Izuku feels this good.

It’s wonderful. Loving Izuku is effortless. Katsuki loves everything about it: bickering
playfully with him as they fold laundry, laughing together as they cook dinner, hotly debating
which first years had the most potential over the phone, mocking trashy reality TV shows as
they snuggle in bed together. It’s all the same stuff they used to do, but now with a whole lot
more kissing, and cuddling, and sex. They have to be quiet doing that last one in the dorms
though. Which is a struggle, because Izuku always gets so giggly . Katsuki ends up splurging
on the love hotel near campus more often than he should just to hear him really moan.

Summer finally comes to an end. The air begins to cool, leaves start to change, and their
internships have officially ended. Katsuki can’t stop fucking grinning when he goes to pick
up Izuku for the final time. This is it. Izuku is coming home for real. For good . God, Katsuki
is so happy that he feels weightless with it.

He bought roses for the occasion. Probably too many of them, if the amount of stares he’s
getting is anything to go by. God, fine whatever let them stare. He’s fucking in love, sue him.
He spots Izuku through the train window and his heart races. Here, he’s here. He’s home .

Izuku breaks into a grin at the sight of him, eyeing the bouquet in his hands with fond
exasperation. He drops his suitcase and runs into his arms, kissing him in greeting like he
always does. He laughs when Katsuki passes the flowers over.

“Oh Kacchan,” he scolds him so softly. Katsuki’s heart rate picks up as Izuku smiles at the
bouquet, fingertips running over the petals. He elbows Kacchan playfully. “I thought I told
you to stop spending so much money on me.”

Katsuki snorts.

“And I told you to stop telling me what to do,” Katsuki shoots back. He winds an arm around
him and presses a kiss to his temple. “Love you.”

Izuku leans into his kiss, smiling. “I love you too, baby.”

He stands on his toes to kiss Katsuki’s mouth properly, cupping Katsuki’s cheek in his
scarred palm. The plastic wrapping the roses crinkles as it's pressed between their bodies.
Izuku breaks away, sighing in content as Katsuki rests their foreheads together.

“ Tadaima ,” Izuku whispers, smiling. “For real this time.”

Home , Katsuki thinks. Forever. He sighs through his grin. The relief is so sweet. They made
it; Izuku is home for good now. Katsuki throws his arms around him, crushing Izuku to his
chest and burying his face in his curls.

“You’re not leavin’ for that long again,” Katsuki warns lowly and Izuku shakes them both
with his giggling. He pats Katsuki’s back reassuringly.

“Oh baby,” he says, sympathetically. “I promise I won’t.”

Katsuki nods into the crook of his shoulder. And then murmurs, “ Okaeri . For real this
time.”

Izuku leans back, kisses him, and Katsuki is at last complete.

They talk about it extensively before deciding to go through with it. They discuss the pros
and cons, weigh the potential benefits against the risks. Their therapists, teachers, and parents
are all consulted. Katsuki tells Izuku over and over again that there is no rush, that they never
have to watch the footage of their fights during the war if they don’t want to. They already
fuckin’ lived through that shit, there’s no need to go through it again. Izuku smiles up at him
warmly when he says so. They sit on their bed side-by-side as Izuku takes his hands.

“I’m ready,” he tells Katsuki, looking up at him firm and clear-eyed. He reaches up to touch
Katsuki’s cheek and Katsuki leans into it, relishing the feel of his thick, crooked fingers.
Izuku’s smile broadens. “It can’t hurt me anymore. I won’t let it. Not when I have you.”

Katsuki’s chest is all warm and fuzzy feelings. But he can’t help feeling a pinch of concern
too.

“It’s serious shit, Izuku,” Katsuki warns him. “You might have nightmares again.”

Izuku’s nod is solemn. “I know.”

He’s quiet for a moment, brows twitching into a little frown. Katsuki rubs the back of his
hand with his thumb as he lets Izuku gather his thoughts.

“I want to see it,” Izuku finally says, with a steely look of determination in his eye. “I’m tired
of being afraid of it. I’m tired of everyone else knowing what went down, when I only
remember bits and pieces. I—” He takes a shaky breath. “I feel strong enough to face it
now.”

Katsuki nods slowly. His throat is heavy and aching. He knows this will be harder on Izuku
than it will be on him; Katsuki has to be the strong one here. Even if thinking about dragging
up the past is making his intestines writhe like worms.

“You say the word and we stop, got it?” Katsuki says, gruffly. Izuku nods.

“Just— just hold me while we watch?” Izuku asks, painfully unsure. “And don’t let go?”

Katsuki snorts at that. Of course he’ll hold him. Who the fuck does Izuku think he is? He
shakes his head as he leans in, pressing a long, savoring kiss to his temple.
“Course I will,” Katsuki murmurs. He dips lower to kiss his sweet, freckled cheek. “Anything
you need, Zu.”

Izuku nods again. He seizes Katsuki’s bicep suddenly and squeezes it. “And you’ll be
okay?”

Katsuki knows he will be. He’s prepared for this as best he could: discussing it with Tanaka,
reading summaries of the footage’s contents online, and asking Kirishima to rewatch it and
timestamp the most disturbing bits. But determination overrides his fear. Katsuki’s life right
now is fucking perfect; he’s not gonna let any PTSD bullshit take it away from him. He
draws back to kiss Izuku’s sweet, concerned pout before smiling at him.

“I’ll be alright,” Katsuki assures. “I promise.”

Izuku grabs the laptop while Katsuki fishes for the anxiety medication in their bedside
drawer. He forces one on Izuku before taking one himself. Despite Katsuki’s assurances,
there’s a low thrum of fear as the laptop boots up. Izuku holds it in his lap as he sits between
Katsuki’s legs and Katsuki hooks his chin over his shoulder as they wait.

“Swear that you’ll tell me if it’s too much,” Katsuki says firmly and Izuku nods.

“I will,” he assures. He tilts his face toward Katsuki and gives him a small smile. “I
promise.”

Izuku leans in and gives the side of Katsuki’s face a kiss.

“Kacchan’s so cute when he’s worried,” he murmurs, lips brushing Katsuki’s cheek as he
speaks. Katsuki turns into it, chasing Izuku’s mouth for a proper kiss, and Izuku makes a soft,
pleased sound. Fuck, he’s so hot. He barely does anything and Katsuki’s cock is already
stirring like it’s ready to go. Izuku’s lips stretch into a grin when he feels it nudging his back.

“Kacchan,” Izuku scolds. “Distracting me already?”

Katsuki flushes. “I don’t fuckin’ do it on purpose.”

Izuku giggles mischievously. “I know, baby.”

He turns back to the laptop. Kirishima sent Izuku the link to the full, edited footage on
Youtube and the title is fucking ridiculous. Deku and Dynamight DESTROY villains and
SAVE JAPAN!!!! Katsuki snorts at the sight of it. Who the hell uses that many exclamation
points? Some twelve-year old hero fanboy must have cobbled it together. Izuku hovers over
the play button.

“You ready?” he asks.

Katsuki nods. And Izuku hits play.

The footage is grainy and out of focus at first. The camera wobbles slightly as the drone-
camera hovers in the air. Katsuki can see the yellow-tinge of the electric walls keeping
Shigaraki encased in the Coffin in the Sky and he blinks as he sees himself. Shigaraki is
standing over him, his disgusting foot pressing Katsuki’s bloodied face flat to the earth.
Jesus, did they have to fucking start it here? Katsuki wrinkles his nose as Shigaraki’s
menacing voice floats through the speakers.

“ Midoriya Izuku was supposed to be here, wasn’t he? ” Shigaraki asks, talking to himself
more than anything. “ If you’re here, then he’ll definitely come back. Perhaps it’s a good
thing my quirks were erased. Your corpse will make such a lovely gift for him.”

Katsuki watches himself struggle, but Shigaraki is too fast. In an instant Shigaraki has him in
a choke hold, Katsuki’s Strafe Panzer firing uselessly into the air behind him.

“ He was so angry when I skewered you ,” Shigaraki continues as Katsuki chokes in his grip.
“Imagine what he’ll do when he finds you dead . ”

Izuku gasps in his arms. “Kacchan.”

“‘S okay, baby,” Katsuki murmurs, squeezing his waist tightly, but Izuku shakes his head.

“I— I didn’t know you knew,” Izuku whispers. On-screen, Nejire, Amajiki, and Togata all
appear to join the fight, but Izuku twists in his lap to stare at Katsuki instead. “You knew
Shigaraki was— using you to hurt me.”

Katsuki nods once. He can see the shock on Izuku’s face, the horror. He touches Katsuki’s
jaw with gentle fingers as his brows pinch.

“And you didn’t know I loved you?” he asks, in a strained whisper.

Katsuki scoffs. “Like that crusty bastard knows what he’s talking about.”

Izuku gives him a firm look.

“He was almost fully merged with All For One then,” Izuku tells him. “He… he had a pattern
of killing past users' loved ones to hurt them. I had no idea he figured out you were my… my
person.”

My person. Katsuki can’t help kissing briefly. Izuku lets out a small huff of surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says, hoarsely. “I should have been stronger—”

A blast snaps their attention back toward the laptop. Amajiki’s plasma cannon is so intense
that the whole screen is consumed in its fiery blue laser for several seconds. Only brief
snatches of those godawful finger-appendages break the all-consuming wall of light. But it
isn’t enough. The cannon fire cuts off, and the dust settles, and Shigaraki is still stalking
toward Katsuki with cold, calculated purpose. It’s terrifying just how calm he is. Fixated on
Katsuki like a predator, batting off the others like flies as he stalks toward him. Jeanist steps
in between them, but he’s gray with blood loss. Katsuki watches himself stagger to his feet.

“Take care of the others,” the Katsuki on screen says. Jeanist cries out, but Katsuki is already
marching forward. Marching to his death, Katsuki realizes. Fuck, it gives him the chills. His
body is icy realizing what he’s witnessing. This would have been the end if not for
Edgeshot’s sacrifice. His voice just barely carries through the gritty speakers, “ I gotta win…
right, Izuku? ”

Katsuki feels Izuku’s breath hitch. He’s still half-turned in his lap so Katsuki can see his
brows pinch into a frown, his pink lips parting in surprise. Katsuki swallows thickly.

“You… you said my name,” he whispers, voice breaking.

“We can turn it off,” Katsuki says, but Izuku shakes his head violently. He grips Katsuki’s
biceps, turning to meet his gaze.

“Why’d you say my name?” he whispers, staring up at Katsuki with those huge, imploring
eyes. Katsuki tuts. He tucks a curl out of Izuku’s sweet, freckled face.

“You know why,” he murmurs and Izuku’s face crumples.

The footage keeps playing. Katsuki is lightning fast, sparkling with a thousand explosions as
he dodges and fires and charges forward. Katsuki watches as he hangs upside down in the air,
and with a jolt of horror, Katsuki realizes what’s about to happen. He seizes Izuku then,
yanking him close and slapping a hand over his eyes as he crushes Izuku to his chest.

“Kacchan—?”

“You don’t need to see this shit,” Katsuki decides, and thanks to some quick thinking he
manages to hit mute before the blow lands. Izuku doesn’t need to hear the sickening crunch
of ribs and concaving flesh as Shigaraki’s blow crashes into Katsuki’s chest. He doesn’t need
to see the burst of blood as Katsuki is sent flying across the screen, limp as a ragdoll as he
spins in the air. God, the shot is far off, but even Katsuki can see that he’s… lifeless. Gone.
Katsuki holds Izuku close, burying his face in his curls, forcing himself to breathe evenly.

It can’t hurt me, Katsuki tells himself. I’m with Izuku. I’m safe.

His heartbeat is roaring in his ears. Alive, alive, furiously alive. Izuku wriggles, but Katsuki
refuses to let him look.

“No, baby,” Katsuki says softly. “‘S not worth it.”

Izuku whimpers.

“ I should have been there, ” he rasps.

“Shhhh, shhh,” Katsuki says, keeping a firm hold of him as he begins to rock him back and
forth gently. “You did everything you could, baby.”

Izuku hitches with tiny sobs. “I could’ve—”

“Stop it,” Katsuki says, pressing him close and kissing his fluffy curls. “We’re not watching
this so you can start beating yourself up again.”
Izuku’s head rubs against Katsuki’s chest as he nods. Katsuki watches Edgeshot’s body
unravel into thin red stripes before diving into his chest cavity with purpose. God, watching it
gives him the shivers. Katsuki wasn’t conscious for this part, but he remembers how it felt
when Edgeshot came slithering out of his body like a snake. It wasn’t fucking comfortable to
say the least.

The camera pans away finally, and Katsuki lets his hold on Izuku relax. Izuku’s face is pale
as he looks up at him, scanning his face and cooing sympathetically.

“It’s okay,” Izuku tells him. It’s only when Izuku touches his cheek that Katsuki realizes he’s
been crying. Izuku wipes his tears away with gentle fingers. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

Katsuki nods hurriedly. He buries his face in his curls, breathing in the scent of him deeply.
Vanilla and chamomile and Izuku. It recenters Katsuki and grounds him. Nothing can hurt
him if Izuku is with him.

“We’re okay,” Katsuki echoes.

It takes a while for Izuku to show up. The Izuku in his arms is rigid, so tense it’s like he’s
made of stone rather than flesh. He trembles as he watches the others fall to Shigaraki’s
overwhelming strength one by one. Katsuki cradles him to his chest and Izuku turns into it,
rubbing his cheek against his sternum. Katsuki knows the guilt must be eating at him.

The electric walls flicker. Katsuki sees the crackling green light of One For All before the
camera-drone pans over and— oh. Izuku. Katsuki’s heart begins to pound at the sight of him,
fierce pride raging inside him as Izuku flings himself at Shigaraki. In his arms, Izuku fidgets
uncomfortably.

“Sorry I’m late!” Izuku cries as he lands. He turns. “Is everyone alri—”

He stops dead. Katsuki watches him freeze. Izuku staggers slightly, like he’s been struck with
an unseen blow. The camera stares right at Izuku as the light drains out of his eyes, the color
leaching from his face as horror warps his features.

“ Go on ,” Shigaraki says, cold and malicious. “ Tell him. Tell him why you’re late, Midoriya
Izuku .”

It’s worse than Katsuki could have imagined. Izuku’s jaw is working, but only tiny, pitiful
squeaks escape him. His sharp little cries of agony piece Katsuki like a thousand cruel
needles. Izuku’s breathing is so haggard that it sounds painful. Katsuki can only watch as
Izuku slowly curls up in on himself, clutching his chest as he whimpers. And trembles. And
sobs.

God, Katsuki thinks he’s going to be sick watching this. The Izuku in his arms is sobbing too
and Katsuki squeezes him.

He’s okay, he’s okay, he tells himself. But fuck knowing that Katsuki is the reason for this
much agony is destroying him. If only he’d been stronger, if only he’d managed to hold off
Shigaraki longer—

“I’m so sorry,” Katsuki whispers, rocking Izuku back and forth gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Izuku shakes his head. His breath shutters out of him as he weeps.

And then the screen explodes.

The drone-camera is thrown off balance, spinning in the air wildly, and there’s several
seconds of only dust, the plume of violet smokescreen, and tendrils Blackwhip lashing
wildly, all intercut with jagged spears of green lightning. When the drone manages to right
itself, Izuku’s form is at the very center of the chaos. All of his quirks are going fucking
haywire. OFA energy beams are like jagged tears striping out of his eyes and vomiting out his
mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Katsuki murmurs. His heart is a lead hammering in his chest. The summary
hadn’t done this moment justice. This wasn’t Izuku losing control, it was Izuku losing
himself. Izuku’s hair is standing on end; his eyes are entirely consumed in fiery light. His face
is so contorted with grief and rage that he almost doesn’t look human. Blackwhip is a living
thing writhing around him, huge and uncontrollable. Tendrils as thick as cobras smash into
the earth with a vengeance. Katsuki squeezes the Izuku in his arms tightly. “Baby, I’m so
sorry.”

Izuku shakes his head again.

“I don’t— I don’t remember most of this,” he confesses in a whisper. Katsuki looks down and
Izuku’s gaze is so far away. “When I saw you—When I realized what Shigaraki had done to
you I just… I just blacked out.”

Katsuki curses softly and Izuku snuggles in just a bit closer.

It’s hard to make out Mirio shaking Izuku through the chaos. Blackwhip lashes out at him
too, blood spattering as a tendril slices through Mirio’s cheek, but he holds firm. He screams
over Izuku’s rage, but it’s unintelligible over the sound of thunder. God, Katsuki knew his
boyfriend was powerful, but he’s never thought of him as fucking terrifying before. He looks
monstrous, like fury incarnate. Even when he calms down enough to speak he looks wrong.
All twisted with anger, and sorrow as Blackwhip wraps around his face like a muzzle.

The Izuku on screen is on a rampage after that. If Shigaraki moved onto Katsuki like a
predator, then Izuku descends on Shigaraki like an avenging angel. Katsuki can barely make
out his figure as he’s consumed in brilliant light. He shoots across the screen so fast that the
camera can’t keep up with him. Katsuki can hear a man screaming, and the voice is so deep
and ragged, that it takes him several minutes to realize it’s Izuku.

“ I won’t let you hurt anyone else! ” Izuku roars and god, it’s agonizing to hear him like that.
His pain is so visceral that Katsuki feels like the strings stitching his heart together have
shrank to strangle the life from him. He squeezes the Izuku in his arms so tightly that Izuku
squeaks in discomfort.
In the footage, Izuku shoots toward Shigaraki like a blazing star, but the impact is oddly
silent. The camera is sent flying, the screen is shaking violently, but it takes several seconds
before the boom hits and nearly blows out their speakers. When the drone manages to right
itself, Shigaraki is splayed out on the broken earth, limbs crooked and head twisted to the
side. His chest is burst open. Only a hollow, jagged hole where his heart should be. Katsuki’s
blood washes ice cold.

He did that on purpose, Katsuki realizes. Izuku gave Shigaraki the exact same killing blow
Shigaraki had given Katsuki. A heart for a heart. There’s no way thoughtful, methodical
Izuku did that by accident. It was purposeful. It was revenge.

“Oh baby,” Katsuki murmurs again. Izuku sniffles in his arms.

“‘M not proud of it,” Izuku whispers. He’s so strained and fragile sounding that Katsuki’s
stomach tightens with it. “For a moment there— I almost—I thought I—”

Katsuki squeezes him. “You didn’t, Zu.”

Izuku is trembling. Katsuki rocks him back and forth very gently, combing back his unruly
curls as he kisses his forehead.

“He’s alive,” Katsuki reminds him. “He’s in that shitty rehab center with that scaly boyfriend
of his, remember? You saved him.”

Izuku nods frantically. But then his face screws up in agony.

“He tried to take you from me,” Izuku rasps. His body convulses with quiet, sniffling sobs. “If
he killed you— Kacchan, I— I dunno what I would’ve— I might have—”

“I’m right here,” Katsuki says, turning Izuku until he meets his gaze. He wipes the tears from
Izuku’s cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m right here, baby.”

Izuku nods again, hiccupping with quiet sobs. He cups Katsuki’s face in his hands and stares
at him hard like he’s committing his face to memory.

“I’m right here,” Katsuki says again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Izuku’s whole body shudders with his inhale. He thumbs along the scar on Katsuki’s
cheekbone.

“I really love you,” Izuku whispers. Katsuki cups the back of his head as he drags him in for
a fierce kiss.

“I know.”

It’s a relief when the action cuts to Gentle Criminal and Lady Nagant. Katsuki watches, but
he barely processes it. He’s… shaken by the sight of Izuku like that. Of what Katsuki’s loss
had done to him. Katsuki has never thought of his own life as something precious, but
knowing what Izuku might have become at his loss… that Izuku almost lost sight of who he
was …
But he didn’t, Katsuki reminds himself firmly. Despite everything, Izuku overcame it. He
managed to save Shigaraki. Because Izuku is the kind of hero who softens hearts and saves
souls. Katsuki would never be able to forgive himself if Izuku lost that precious part of
himself because he lost Katsuki.

Gentle Criminal just barely manages to keep UA suspended in the air. Portals break the
skyline and Twice clones come bursting through, so numerous that they look like ants in a
frenzy. Fuck, this is how Shigaraki got his quirks back, Katsuki realizes. Monoma and
Aizawa were overtaken and blinked.

“Shit got real when I was out,” Katsuki mutters and Izuku huffs a laugh.

“I had the blow back from Gear Shift too,” he says, shaking his head. “Could barely
breathe.”

God, Katsuki should have been there. He should have gotten up sooner. If they’d been able to
fight side-by-side maybe they could have— but what’s the use in worrying about that now?
Katsuki shakes himself out of it.

There’s a great crack, a sudden burst. The electric-screen encasing the Coffin in the Sky
shatters and Izuku is shoving Shigaraki down to the earth. Katsuki blinks several times. No,
he can’t be seeing that right. Why the hell would Izuku purposefully bring Shigaraki to the
ground?

“The fuck are you doing?” Katsuki asks. He turns to give Izuku a look. “You took him to the
ground on purpose?”

Izuku swallows thickly. Guilt crinkles his brows.

“Couldn’t afford to fight in the air anymore,” he murmurs. “Now that he had his quirks
back… One touch to the Coffin in the Sky and every one inside it would be dead.” He shakes
his head, lower lip quivering. “The others could have evacuated but you— you were
unconscious. You wouldn’t have even had the chance— I couldn’t risk losing you again, I—“

Izuku keeps mumbling, but Katsuki is hit with a wash of numbness. He feels like he’s just
struck him over the head with a hammer. No, no what is Izuku saying? He can’t mean—

“Zu, they built that thing to stop Shigaraki from destroying Japan,” Katsuki says, quietly.
He’d always assumed Shigaraki somehow managed to escape the cage meant to hold him; he
could never have imagined Izuku would ruin their plan on purpose. The transcripts hadn’t
mentioned that. Maybe they hadn’t caught it in the chaos, but Katsuki knows what he saw.

Izuku looks away.

“I… I know,” Izuku says, incredibly softly.

Katsuki stares at him for long, drawn out moments. The action continues on screen, but it
feels like it’s coming from miles away. There’s a strange sense of vertigo. His head is buzzing
as watches what little of Izuku’s face he can see in disbelief.
He chose me , Katsuki thinks, dizzy with the realization. His stomach drops; his heart surges
into his throat. All of Japan was at stake and Izuku chose to protect Katsuki’s half-dead body
instead. Katsuki stares at Izuku like he’s never seen him before. Selfless, compassionate,
heroic Izuku chose him over the lives of millions? Katsuki can’t fathom it. It’s so unlike the
Izuku he’s always known that it’s like the whole world has been upended. It’s mind blowing,
and terrifying, and also strangely wonderful. The affection within Katsuki is syrupy sweet
and suffocating. He can’t blame Izuku; he knows that if their positions were reversed,
Katsuki would have made the same choice. He would have done it thoughtlessly. Maybe that
makes him a shitty hero, but he doesn’t care. There is no world to save without Izuku in it.

Izuku refuses to look at him, so Katsuki takes his face in both hands, turning him, drawing
him close, and kissing the life out of him. Izuku makes a strangled sound as he reciprocates
and god, Katsuki can’t get enough of him.

“Kacchan—”

“I love you,” Katsuki chokes. It’s only then that he realizes he’s crying again. Izuku’s smile is
watery.

“You do?” he whispers and Katsuki kisses him again, harsher. Bruising his affection into
Izuku desperately, like it’s the only way Izuku can be sure. “I was— I was so worried you’d
think differently of me when… when you found out.”

Katsuki shakes his head fiercely. Maybe it’s a fucked-up impulse, but the knowledge that
Katsuki is the only thing Izuku allows himself to be selfish for is intoxicating. It’s a life-
changing, bone-rattling revelation. Even before they were dating, Izuku’s love had been so
intense that it’d overwritten all of his usual impulses. Katsuki is the only one who could bring
out this side of him, just like Izuku is the only one who could have brought out Katsuki’s new
softness. Katsuki smiles through his tears.

“You are the love of my life,” Katsuki tells him hoarsely. He strokes his sweet freckled cheek
with the backs of his knuckles. “Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Izuku sobs. His eyes are so bright and wobbly with tears. He throws his arms around him and
then theyre kissing again. Tear-slick and passionate and all-consuming. Katsuki doesn’t know
if he believes in soulmates, but he thinks this must be what it’s like. Like it’s something
bigger than themselves, big enough to outweigh the world. Izuku is still weeping when he
breaks away, but he’s also smiling. He frames Katsuki’s face in his scarred palms.

“And you are mine,” he returns, softly.

Katsuki feels stripped down to pure, raw nerve as Izuku kisses him again. He loves me ,
Katsuki thinks, and this time he really feels it. The enormity and intensity of it. The
wonderful weight of being someone’s everything.

“You’re fucking nuts, you know that?” Katsuki can’t help whispering and Izuku’s laugh is
shaky. He kisses him instead of answering.
They’re so busy making out that they almost forget the footage is still rolling. It’s only All
For One’s cackling, childlike laughter that draws their attention back toward the screen. He’s
already holding a battered All Might in the air, preparing to tear his body in half.

“Fuck, we missed All Might’s fight,” Izuku murmurs.

Katsuki snorts. Okay. Missing an All Might fight to make out with Katsuki instead? Of all the
things Katsuki has witnessed today, that one might just be the most damning evidence of
Izuku’s love for him. He can’t help grinning.

“Next time,” Katsuki says. Fuck, he didn’t expect watching the footage to take so much out
of him, but they’re only about half way through and he’s already exhausted. “Let’s just get
through it.”

Izuku nods, kissing him once more before turning back toward the laptop. God, Katsuki’s
lungs shrivel as the Izuku on-screen screams for All Might. Lightning shoots out of his eyes
like serrated daggers, his face twisted in grief.

And then Izuku stills. Like he’s hearing a voice on the wind, or sensing a disturbance in the
air. Light pierces through the clouds behind him and Izuku turns toward it, looks up into the
sky and—

Oh.

The change is instantaneous. Izuku’s rage and pain evaporates all at once. He spots Katsuki
in the distance and suddenly he looks human again. Freckles and tear-stained cheeks and
open awe in his wide, emerald eyes. Another camera cuts to Katsuki staring right back down
at him. Fuck, Katsuki’s heart spasms a little when he sees just how lovestruck he looks.
Goddamn, having his heart explode really shut down his inhibitions, he guesses.

They reach for each other. Their hands meet in the air, Blackwhip braces Katsuki’s battered
arm, and Izuku breaks his hold on Shigaraki as he spins Katsuki. He launches him toward All
Might and All For One and fuck he’s fast. He’s a streak of light shooting through the air, but
the camera lingers on Izuku’s reaction. Breathless, and starry-eyed, Izuku is suddenly not an
avenging angel, but a boy. A boy so clearly in love that Katsuki is retroactively less
embarrassed by his own lovestruck look. He can’t help but turn to kiss Izuku’s temple then.

On screen, Katsuki blasts All For One’s arms off as he snatches up All Might and the Izuku
in Katsuki’s lap breathes a sigh of relief.

“You changed fate, you know,” Izuku murmurs, patting the arm locked around his waist.
“Nighteye’s vision said All Might would die there but you— you changed it. Somehow.”

Katsuki scoffs.

“Fuck fate,” he says and Izuku’s laughter shakes them both.

The Katsuki on-screen looks like shit. Bloodied and dirt-smeared and stitches exposed to the
air through the huge gash in his hero costume. There’s a frenzied, adrenaline-fueled mania to
him as he throws his battered body at All For One. Izuku whimpers as he watches on.

“Your arm,” he cries, when it flops in the air as Katsuki moves. Katsuki stretches that same
arm for him now.

“Look,” Katsuki murmurs. He opens and closes his fist to demonstrate. “I’m fine now. See?”

Izuku shakes his head. “It must have hurt so bad…”

Katsuki resolves not to tell him that his arm was nothing in comparison to the agony of a
freshly-sewn heart and a pain-fueled quirk awakening. He just leans in and presses kisses into
his hair.

“ I’m your final boss, All For One! ” the Katsuki on screen is screaming and Izuku giggles.

“Kacchan is so sugoi,” he says, sounding amused. Katsuki doesn’t know whether to be

pleased or embarrassed.

Ba-ba- boom! Katsuki’s explosions are brighter and more bombastic than ever as he seizes
All For One’s skull and unloads on him. Katsuki is thrown into the air by the blowback,
shoulders squared as he bellows with his whole chest,

“ I’m the guy who steps in when that nerd can’t handle it on his own! ”

Izuku’s gasp is a little strangled. He whips around to fix Katsuki with a hard look, even
though his smile is pleased.

“Kacchan,” he says, almost chastising. He pets Katsuki’s chest lovingly. “Really?”

Katsuki is a rich shade of ruby with his blush. “What?”

Izuku’s gaze softens. He reaches up to cup his cheek.

“You really meant it,” Izuku says, voice all full of wonder. “That first promise you made to
me right after we got out of the hospital. You were— you were already thinking about it.”

Katsuki huffs through his nose. He flicks Izuku’s forehead meanly.

“Quit being fuckin’ surprised that I love you,” Katsuki orders and Izuku breaks into a laugh.

The Katsuki on screen is so fast that he’s barely in control of his direction. Katsuki can hear
himself cackling as he crashes and rolls, chasing All For One with a vengeance. His face split
into a feral grin. He blasts All For One again and the child screams at him.

“You’re to blame for it all, Kudo!”

Katsuki is still laughing maniacly as he’s thrown upside down by the force of his own blast.
His eyes are bright and frenzied.
“ I’m Kacchan of the Bakugous, you dumbass! ”

Izuku snorts. He hunches forward suddenly, covering his mouth with a hand. He taps the
spacebar quickly.

“Wait, wait, go back,” Izuku says, breathing hard. “I can’t— I need to hear that again.”

Oh god. Katsuki squirms with embarrassment, but when Izuku replays the clip it’s clear as
day. I’m Kacchan of the Bakugous, you dumbass! Izuku throws his head back laughing.

“Kacchan!” he cries, spinning in his lap seizing him by the shoulders. Izuku looks absolutely
overjoyed as he shakes him. “Wh— you called yourself Kacchan?”

Katsuki’s mouth squirms in an uncomfortable line. “... Yeah.”

“ Why? ” Izuku presses. Fuck, he’s so happy it almost makes the embarrassment worth it.
Katsuki savors it for a beat, staring at Izuku’s sweet smiling face. He leans in and gives Izuku
a soft kiss.

“Was thinkin’ about you,” Katsuki admits in a low voice. Izuku’s inhale is shaky.

“You were?” he breathes.

Katsuki kisses him again, nudging Izuku’s cheek with his nose as he nods.

“Thought of you the whole time,” he confesses. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

Izuku stares at him. Katsuki watches his chest move as his breath hitches. They’re so close
that Katsuki can feel Izuku’s breathing rush over his face. God, he can’t help drinking it in
greedily. Izuku’s exhales are hot and humid and it’s as intimate as it is sensual. Katsuki wants
his tongue in his mouth. He wants to kiss Izuku until it hurts, until Katsuki tastes more like
Izuku than he does himself. But Izuku only gazes at him, soft with awe like he can’t quite
believe it.

“Really?” he whispers.

Katsuki nods slowly. The moment feels charged somehow. The air buzzes between them.
Katsuki’s hands are tentative as he cradles Izuku’s precious face in his hands.

“You were my last thought before I died,” Katsuki tells him, keeping his voice even and
deliberate. Because Izuku should know. He deserves to know that Katsuki’s love is as intense
and life-altering as his own. He sweeps over Izuku’s sweet, freckled cheeks with his thumbs.
“And when I woke up, you were my first thought too.”

Izuku’s face crumples so sweetly.

“Kacchan,” he whispers. He clings Katsuki’s wrists in place as he weeps. “Kacchan, Kacchan

—”
“Love you,” Katsuki says, even though the words don’t feel big enough to contain the gravity
of Katsuki’s devotion to him.

Izuku throws himself at Katsuki then. Katsuki oofs as he’s tackled into the mattress; Izuku’s
solid body crash lands on top of him and the laptop is sent flying to the floor. Katsuki doesn’t
have time to process any of it; Izuku is already kissing him. Kissing him desperately, slick
with spit and tears, and Katsuki groans into it. Izuku’s thick thighs lock around his waist and
it’s so good. It’s so fucking right. The heat of Izuku’s body, the weight of him settled on top
of Katsuki, the wet slide of his mouth. Everything about it is so arousing that Katsuki can’t
think, can’t breathe. Izuku. This boy who would become a monster for him, who would doom
Japan for him. He clutches at Izuku’s hair with one hand, the other raking down his back.
Izuku licks the roof of his mouth greedily and a shiver shoots down Katsuki’s spine.

“I love you,” Izuku whispers. “I love you so much, Kacchan. I love you more than anything
—”

“I know,” Katsuki hushes into his mouth. His teeth scrape over Izuku’s bottom lip. “You’re
my everything too.”

Izuku’s whimper is half-sorrow and half-desire. He grinds on Katsuki’s cock deliberately as

their kisses deepen and fuck, Katsuki needs him. The intimacy of everything makes his
arousal flare, heavy and charged with emotion. It’s not enough just to kiss him, he needs
more, he needs to be joined with him. Izuku breaks away, nodding frantically as if Katsuki
has said this out loud.

“I need you,” Izuku breathes. He rolls his hips into Katsuki’s crotch and Katsuki gasps.
“Kacchan, I need you. Please— lemme feel you. Please.”

He always begs so sweetly. Begs like he has to. Begs like he doesn’t know Katsuki is
wrapped around his little finger. Katsuki’s hands plunge into Izuku’s pants, ridding him of his
boxers and sleep shorts in one fell swoop.

“Lube,” he orders. And Izuku sits up on his knees, stooping over the side of the bed to grab it
from their bedside drawer. Shigaraki is screeching about being a villain distantly from the
laptop’s speakers somewhere on their bedroom floor, but Katsuki only hears Izuku’s labored
breathing. His soft little sobs as Katsuki slicks two fingers and slips them inside.

“Thank you,” Izuku whispers, rocking on his fingers like he’s starved for it. “Thank you,
baby. Thank you—”

God, Katsuki will never get tired of this. Izuku’s desperation, the glaze over his emerald gaze
as Katsuki’s fingers sink into him. Katsuki is too frantic to take his time. He scissors his
fingers quickly and Izuku chants his praises, smiling and nodding encouragement as he
thrusts back into Katsuki’s fingers.

“In me,” Izuku pleads, patting his chest. “Kacchan, I need you in me.”

Katsuki can’t refuse him. He shimmies out of his sweats, just far enough to get his cock out,
and Izuku takes him in hand immediately. Katsuki hisses at the contact.
“Hang on, baby, lemme—” Katsuki says, hands shaking as he grabs the lube again. Izuku
whines.

“ Hurry ,” he pleads.

God, Katsuki’s so aroused thinks he might die. He’s so shaken by every revelation, so
overwhelmed by the enormity of Izuku’s love for him that it feels like it’s the first time all
over again. Izuku was ready to forsake the world for him and here he is writhing on top of
Katsuki, eyes glassy and chest heaving as he hiccups through his sobs, because he loves him.
Loves him more than the world, loves him enough that he goes mad with it, loves him so
much that just the sight of Katsuki made him whole again. Katsuki grips his hip tightly as he
lathers himself with lube.

Izuku doesn’t waste another second. He seizes Katsuki’s shaft, guiding him to his entrance
and impaling himself at once. Fuck! They both cry out.

“Baby, careful,” Katsuki rasps, gripping his hip so hard his fingers turn white. Izuku rocks
back onto his cock, taking him inch by inch.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Sorry I just—”

“I know,” Katsuki assures. He feels it too. It’s more than desire, it’s a desperate carnal need.
Katsuki wants something more than sex honestly. He wants to crawl into Izuku’s skin and
live there. He wants their atoms and molecules to rearrange themselves until they’re fused
into one being. Until they’re Kacchan-and-Izuku, with no spaces in between. Izuku settles
onto his cock fully and Katsuki’s chest heaves.

“Ah,” Izuku breathes, sounding so wonderfully relieved. “Ah, Kacchan.”

Izuku’s walls contract around him and Katsuki whimpers. God, it’s so intimate. It’s like a
knife pressed to Katsuki’s jugular and Katsuki just has to take it, just has to know there’s no
sweeter way to go if Izuku decides this is the end. Fuck, the tears are so embarrassing, but
they can’t be helped.

“I love you,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku rolls his hips and ah fuck . “Show me.”

Katsuki fucks up into him in short, fast thrusts. They’re still mostly clothed, the laptop is still
playing fucking war footage somewhere on the floor, and Katsuki’s pretty sure the door is
unlocked, but he can’t find it within him to care. He only exists where he enters Izuku. The
sweet embrace of his body, the soft sighs that escape him, the wet sounds as they join over
and over again. Katsuki seizes great fistfuls of his ass as he drags Izuku onto his cock and it’s
so fucking good. It’s everything. It’s what their bodies were always meant to do.

Not close enough , Katsuki thinks. He flips Izuku onto his back, hiking up his thighs as he
presses Izuku into the mattress, seeking his mouth greedily. Katsuki kisses him with hunger,
kisses him with tears and teeth and tongue. Izuku moans through it, hooking his legs around
his hips as Katsuki pounds into him frantically.
“‘S good to me,” Izuku whispers, words smeared through kisses. “‘S good.”

Feel it , Katsuki thinks. Desperate to convey even a fraction of the enormity of what is going
on inside him. The love, the obsession, the hopeless devotion. Izuku’s moans are choked with
his sobs. Tell me you feel it too .

Maybe he whispered it. Maybe Izuku just knows. Izuku cards a hand through Katsuki’s hair,
smiling up at him sweetly as tears trail down his cheeks.

“I feel it,” he whispers. Another hand snakes up Katsuki’s chest, pressing firmly onto his
sternum. Their kisses are sloppy as Izuku pants into Katsuki’s mouth. “I feel it, Kacchan.”

It’s too much. Katsuki’s face screws up, his hips stutter— and his orgasm is ripped out of
him. He cries out, spilling into Izuku with a wash of heat and heady pleasure. Izuku milks
him through it. He stares up at Katsuki’s face in awe. Katsuki trembles as he comes down
from his high, only barely cognisant enough to fumble for Izuku’s dick trapped between
them. One day, he swears he’ll make Izuku cum on his cock alone, but for now—

Izuku cries as he cums, tears dribbling down his cheeks and walls squeezing Katsuki so
tightly it’s almost unbearable. Cum splatters on Katsuki’s shirt and the underside of his jaw,
but he doesn’t care. He collapses onto Izuku, burying himself in the crook of his shoulder and
sobbing softly. Izuku huffs at the sudden weight, but is quick to embrace him. His arms, legs,
and ass all cling to Katsuki and it’s perfect. Katsuki has him. They’re joined. Entwined as
tightly as two human beings can be. Katsuki closes his eyes and breathes him in.

“You okay?” Izuku whispers, stroking his back up and down. Katsuki nods hurriedly.

“Yeah,” Katsuki sighs into his throat. And then after a moment, “Intense.”

“Yeah,” Izuku agrees. “Feels good though.”

More than good , Katsuki thinks. It feels spiritual. Like there’s been a secret ache in Katsuki’s
soul that’s only now been soothed. A catharsis he never knew he needed.

Katsuki draws back, just far enough to meet Izuku’s gaze. His cheek is so soft as Katsuki
cups it in his hand. He leans into Katsuki’s touch and Katsuki grins. He can’t believe he ever
doubted this. It seems so unimaginable now. God, Katsuki’s heart twists as he thinks of all the
time he’s wasted. He shakes his head and Izuku’s brows quirk with an unspoken question.

“Shoulda kissed you sooner,” Katsuki murmurs.

“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku whispers. It’s a conversation they’ve had before, but it always seems to
amuse Izuku. He’s smiling as he presses a kiss to Katsuki’s palm. “I wouldn’t change
anything.”

Katsuki huffs.

“I would,” Katsuki says, stubbornly. “I woulda kissed you way sooner.”

Izuku shakes the bed with his laughter. His eyes are so bright and dazzling that Katsuki
thinks he falls in love all over again.

“When?” Izuku demands.

Katsuki considers that. He cards a hand through Izuku’s unruly curls, relishing the way the
coils cling to his fingers. Like even Izuku’s body is helpless but to be possessive of him.

“When I had my panic attack and you— helped me,” Katsuki says, still a bit abashed to
admit Izuku bathed him. But then he frowns as he thinks about it further. “Or the party, in the
bathroom. When you promised yourself back to me.”

Izuku flashes his dimples at him; Katsuki ducks in to give one a swift kiss.

“Maybe even sooner,” Katsuki admits, murmuring the words against his cheek. “As soon as
possible. The very first night when I crawled into your hospital bed.”

Izuku is close enough that Katsuki can hear the soft smack of his lips as they stretch into a
grin.

“I would’ve let you,” Izuku breathes. “Whenever—whenever you wanted I would’ve let
you.”

Katsuki’s sigh is half a growl. “Fuck.”

Izuku laughs. He draws back to cup Katsuki’s face in his hands. “Kacchan, it’s okay!”

He kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. Katsuki melts into it. He’s still buried inside
him and if Izuku isn’t careful he’ll get him going again. But knowing Izuku, that’s exactly
what he wants.

“Wish I’d loved you right for the start,” Katsuki admits and Izuku coos sympathetically.

“I still wouldn’t change it,” Izuku says, shaking his head a little. “I loved every moment with
you.”

Katsuki scoffs lightly.

“Sap,” he accuses and Izuku rolls his eyes fondly.

“You don’t get to lecture me about sap,” Izuku says, jabbing him in the chest. “ Kacchan of
the Bakugous. ”

Fuck, Katsuki’s never gonna live that one down is he? But his groan only makes Izuku
giggle.

“Kacchan is so cute,” Izuku says, patting his chest gently. “I love you.”

The truth of it pierces Katsuki. He feels stripped bare by it, by the day’s revelations, by the
intensity and ferocity of Izuku’s love. He trembles with the understanding of what Izuku’s
really offering him. That his love is so much more than affection: it’s world-annihilating
desperation, a single-minded obsession, devotion to the point of destruction. Katsuki cradles
Izuku close and his cock twitches inside him, filling out again as Izuku drags him in for more
kisses.

“Promise me something,” Katsuki rasps.

Izuku breaks away to meet his gaze. Katsuki can see his surprise. Katsuki never asks for
things like this, but today is different. God, he’s gone through too many emotions in too short
a time. He trembles as Izuku gazes at him, emerald eyes dark and dreamy. His thumb brushes
Katsuki’s jawline as Izuku smiles up at him.

“Anything,” Izuku agrees in a low voice.

Katsuki’s jaw works, but for a moment no words come. Finally, he leans in, resting their
foreheads together.

“Promise me that this is forever,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku’s breath hitches. He draws back and Katsuki can barely look at him. Shock, awe, and
fondness all flicker across Izuku’s expression.

And then he breaks into a smile, eyes warm with affection. He cradles Katsuki’s cheek in his
palm.

“Forever,” he echoes. “I promise.”

Katsuki’s body sings with relief. He surges down to claim his mouth again and Izuku hums
into it happily. His hips rock against Katsuki and fuck, fuck, fuck. Katsuki breaks away to
groan and Izuku smiles.

“You know that almost sounded like a marriage proposal,” Izuku teases.

Katsuki freezes.

It’s a joke. Katsuki knows it’s a joke. But he can’t help picturing it: Izuku with a ring on his
finger, Izuku with his family name, Izuku belonging to him in every way possible. Katsuki
stares down at him and god he wants it so fiercely that it aches. The strings holding his chest
together strain as his heart pounds. Izuku’s lashes flutter as he looks him up and down.

“Kacchan…” Izuku whispers, strained.

It’s too soon, he knows it’s too soon. They’re still in high school for fuck’s sake. But
somehow Katsuki doesn’t think it matters. He reaches down, running his thumb over Izuku’s
lower lip.

“You said anything,” Katsuki counters roughly. God, the tips of his ears are burning a bright
red. Katsuki can feel Izuku’s walls contract around him as his breath stutters. Izuku’s smile is
the sweetest thing he’s ever beheld.
 “ Kacchan ,” Izuku says again. He shakes them both with his giggling. “Kacchan, that’s
crazy.”

But Izuku’s eyes are all adoration. Katsuki looms in and kisses him softly.

“Be crazy with me,” Katsuki murmurs against his mouth. Izuku kisses him back, hand
carding through Katsuki’s hair and gripping him fiercely. It takes a moment for Katsuki to
realize he’s nodding.

“Yeah, okay,” Izuku hushes against his lips. “Anything.”

Katsuki licks into his mouth possessively and Izuku groans. Izuku’s hips keen, trying to get a
rhythm going, and Katsuki’s cock pulses with need.

“Tell me again,” Izuku begs.

Katsuki rocks into him gently. One hand pressing Izuku into the mattress, the other cupping
his cheek.

“You and me,” Katsuki murmurs. “Forever.”

And it’s a promise Katsuki intends on keeping.

Chapter End Notes

don’t tell class 1-A they’re soft-engaged they’ll flip out

oh god i'm so emotional ending this. i've never written anything this long, and never
finished a multichapter fic like this before, and it's been such a journey. if you've read
this whole thing thank you so much, i hope you've enjoyed it as much as i have enjoyed
writing it!! when i started writing this, it was to help curb my anxiety about mha ending
and now it feels like it's become so much more <3 <3 <3 thank you thank you

i love you guys so so much !! i plan on writing lots more bkdk and i hope you'll stick
around!! come say hi to me @gabbkdk on twitter or @bakudekublogblog on tumblr or
@gabstar on bluesky!! comments mean the absolute world to me, please please tell me
your favorite part if you enjoyed this!!

maybe one day, i'll revisit promises kept bkdk, but for now just know they really do live
happily ever after i promise <3
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!