Archive of Our Own

Izuku had once read how time seemed to stretch for people when momentous things happened, how they're stuck in that long moment while everyone else moved in slow motion.

But for Izuku, it didn't happen that way. One moment Izuku was laughing with Uraraka; and the next: Katsuki was there.

There was a split second when Izuku felt his stomach drop, and he was sure his ears were all red, but he pushed on and smiled. Katsuki nodded back.

“Deku.”

“Hello, Kacchan,” Izuku said softly, even sweetly, because whatever had happened before, whatever words were said, it was all a long time ago.

They had been together for 4 years; just long enough for things to transition from being boyfriends to wanting something more permanent. Just enough time for romance to be replaced with routine, passionate nights with comfortable ones.

Time enough for them to grow from their younger selves, grow up, grow apart. They used to want the same things, until they didn’t.

On hindsight, through the lens of maturity and his first year as 30, Izuku knew that it was both no one’s fault and both their faults. It was just how things go sometimes.

So on this night that he saw Katsuki again after 5 years without, Izuku smiled.

Uraraka hadn’t told him that Katsuki would be there, but Izuku couldn’t really say that he was surprised to see him. It was a party thrown by Class A for Izuku, to welcome him back in Japan after almost 5 years away. Whatever else he was, Katsuki was part of Class A, and he had cause to be here.

Izuku had expected awkwardness. When he left Japan, he was so angry at Katsuki he wanted to hurt him in the worst way he could. So Izuku left; depriving Katsuki of his presence. A case of ‘you don’t get to have me, if you don’t really want me’. He wanted a Deku-shaped hole in Katsuki’s life, and he wanted Katsuki to feel it. Be hurt by it. Like Izuku himself had hurt.

But Izuku was never made to be bitter, had too much capacity for love and happiness.

The change of scenery helped. New job, new people, new language. He was no longer confronted with daily reminders that he and Katsuki used to do this in that place, or do that in this place.

A beautifully clean slate that first distracted Izuku, then healed him.

Almost a year in his new home and Izuku finally found someone who interested him. It barely lasted 3 months, but it made Izuku realize he could be happy with someone other than Katsuki.

Izuku cried, and cried hard at the realization, sobbing himself raw against sheets that didn’t smell anything like burnt sweetness because letting go of your dreams was sometimes harder than giving up the real thing.

And then one day, Izuku found someone else to love. Izuku was truly happy until they weren’t anymore.

But Izuku was older and wiser, and he now knew that sometimes things just don’t work out. Things end, and there was nothing you can do about it, except try to salvage as much of the relationship as you can. So you don’t rage at each other and say words that cannot be unsaid.

So that you’d be free to talk to each other again, if ever there was a need to, and you don’t cross oceans just to slam the door in their face.

When time came for Izuku to re-cross the ocean back to Japan, Izuku called this person he once loved to say goodbye, and they wished him good luck in return. There was a moment of regret, some sadness, because love that has passed was always bittersweet, but there was also peace.

And Izuku brought that peace with him when he came back to Japan, excited to reclaim his old life.

That first meeting with Katsuki passed without incident. Izuku thought that the entire class held their collective breaths, unsure how it would go, then heaved a sigh of relief as Izuku gave Katsuki a genuine smile.

Katsuki himself had seemed uncertain, but perhaps, only in Izuku’s eyes, who, after all, used to know him best.

And that made Izuku wonder, looking at this stranger before him: who knew Katsuki best now?

Izuku didn’t know the answer because when he left Japan, he torched bridges, razed the ground, salted the earth, shut down any kind of communication that included the name Bakugou Katsuki.

Five years have passed and all he knew about this current Katsuki was what trickled in through the news channels.

He was Japan’s #1 Hero 2 years running.
He was unmarried.
He campaigned against bullying.
He was surprisingly popular with kids and the older generation.

Not a lot of information about someone Izuku used to have entire notebooks of facts on.

When he found himself alone with Katsuki later in the evening, Izuku gave in to the curiosity, the desire to know more.

“How have you been, Kacchan?”

At first Izuku didn’t think Katsuki would answer. He just looked at Izuku, as if searching for something. Izuku wondered what it was; if it was something he used to have but didn’t anymore, or something he used to lack but did now possess.

"I got to the top."

That made Izuku smile. All this time and Katsuki still had that one thing on his mind.

"I know. I was happy when I heard," Izuku said.

"You?" Katsuki asked, sipping his beer.

"I've grown up," Izuku said truthfully, watching Katsuki's pale throat work.

They didn't talk long that night. Someone came and dragged Izuku away for yet another picture, and he lost Katsuki in the laughter and alcohol. But it was already more than he had shared with Katsuki in ages.

Izuku's first days back in Japan was a near constant motion. He needed a new hero license, an address, a phone line, and the hundred and one things he left behind in his other life a dozen time zones away.

Amidst all that chaos, Izuku received a call from an unknown number.

It was Katsuki, his old number unrecognized but unblocked in Izuku's new phone. He asked Izuku to meet up that night. He had a case he wanted to discuss, something Izuku used to handle.

Izuku said yes, disconcerted by hearing Katsuki's voice this close to his ear after all these years.

They met at a discreet bar, used a booth near the far end of the room, away from the rest of the patrons. The discussion about the villain — gone underground 7 years ago and for some reason wreaking havoc now — took about 20 minutes. They stayed in that place for over an hour.

Pro hero Deku's return to Japan did not go unnoticed. He was already popular before he left and never did lose his popularity as people still tracked his accomplishments abroad; like star baseball players who leave to play for the Major Leagues.

Izuku was busy. But when Katsuki called him the following week to discuss another case, Izuku still said yes.

They met up a little earlier that time, and they discussed the case over dinner. They've moved on to other topics well before dessert came, and still they stayed for some after-dinner tea.

The third time Katsuki called, Izuku told him they can just see each other at Jirou’s birthday party the next day.

There was a pause in the line until Katsuki said “I’m free now, Deku.”

Izuku admitted that he was free as well, and they met up. They had sushi and several rounds of sake. Izuku thought this was the better option anyway since Jirou’s parties were always loud, and it would have been hard to talk case.

The fourth time Katsuki called him, Izuku had had a difficult day. No one died on his watch — not this time — but there were people injured, including small children.

He was in a pensive mood through out. He picked at his dinner and drank more than he usually did.

They barely talked about the case Katsuki wanted to consult on. Izuku's mind kept wandering away, to small bloodied limbs clinging to him for help.

When they got up to leave, Katsuki frowned down at him. "Saw you on the news. Should have known calling you tonight was a bad idea.”

Izuku looked up at him in surprise. "Why? If you hadn't, I would have gone home and moped by myself. Sorry I've been bad company."

Katsuki turned away, fiddling with his wallet to pay the cashier.

"Do you wanna have coffee? We can have decaf. I know a place," Katsuki said, surprising Izuku.

He nodded anyway, not eager to go home.

"It's a bit of a walk. You mind?"

"No. A walk sounds perfect right now. Thank you, Kacchan."

"No problem.”

The next time Katsuki called, Izuku and his team had just finished a big raid and he was flush with success and adrenaline.

"Sorry, Kacchan. The team is having dinner tonight to celebrate, charge to the agency."

"Don't worry about it, Deku. This case will keep.”

"Yeah, yeah okay."

"See you around, nerd. Good job on the raid."

"Hey, Kacchan?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna meet up for drinks after my dinner?"

"Okay."

"Great!"

They named a time and place. They met up for drinks and didn't talk about Katsuki's case at all.

The following week, it was Uraraka who called Izuku, asking him to dinner after work. Catch up. They haven't seen each other since Izuku's party 2 months ago.

Izuku started to say yes, then hesitated. He would love to go but it's Thursday. Katsuki usually called on Thursday.

"What? Why would Bakugou need to discuss a case with you?"

"I don't know that he does this week. He hasn't called to ask. Maybe he doesn't. Lemme call him now to make sure. If he doesn't, then we can have dinner."

"Deku-kun, I am your best friend. You're seriously dropping me for Bakugou? Is there something I should know?"

Izuku laughed. "It's work, Uraraka."

Turned out Katsuki did need to consult something with Izuku. They met at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant that had excellent ramen.

Uraraka spent the evening cleaning her apartment.

They weren’t dates. There was nothing romantic going on. There was always some work matter to be discussed — a villain, a pro hero policy, who's the best choice for this task force.

Admittedly, the work discussions often segued to hero talk and remember-whens of their long and varied time together, and sometimes they only spend a few minutes actually talking about work before one of them launched into a story of what happened the day before, but that's all it was. Just an outlet to geek out about their favorite topics and catch up on what has happened since they last saw each other.

They talked about their friends, how their parents were doing, what All Might was up to. Common threads that linked them together without binding them.

They didn't talk about the future unless it's next week. They didn't make plans other than that one evening out of every seven.

They didn't talk about their break-up or how Izuku almost married someone else a little over a year ago. There were questions they didn't bring up, like if Katsuki still slept on the right side of the bed (because once upon a time Izuku always slept on his left side on account of his fucked-up right arm, and Katsuki didn’t like Izuku turning away from him in the night) or if he’s switched sides.

Six months in, and Izuku still didn't know who knows Katsuki best these days. But he didn’t feel like such a stranger anymore.

It wasn’t always Thursday night either. One time, Katsuki called on a Wednesday and asked if they can meet that night instead.

Another time, Katsuki called and said he can't make it.

"My team has to deploy, nerd. We'll be back next week.”

"Alright, Kacchan. Be safe.”

"I'll bring you a souvenir."

Izuku had to laugh, imagining the teasing smirk on Katsuki's face.

Just like that, Izuku realized two things — one, Katsuki hasn't asked to meet up for that week yet; he just said he can't make it, as if they already had plans made.

Two, Izuku will miss him. He had been looking forward to seeing Katsuki for their weekly meeting.

Leading to a third realization: this weekly evening outs with Katsuki was a thing now.

Izuku can't really say he minded.

There was one time when Izuku was just simply exhausted. Bone deep tired. Katsuki called and Izuku was tempted but willpower could only take you so far, and he used up all of his rounding up bad guys earlier.

"I'm really sorry, Kacchan. I'm about to fall asleep where I stand.”

"You have to eat, Deku."

"I'll get something from the convenience store."

“Hah? Those things are crap!"

It was an argument straight from when they were still together that Izuku felt at a loss for a moment. Before he could respond, Katsuki was talking again.

"Send me your address. I'll come over and cook something for you."

"Kacchan, I don't have enough energy to entertain."

"Who the fuck said anything about entertaining me? I cook. You eat. I'm outta your hair."

There weren't alarm bells clanging in Izuku's head so much as he didn’t think this was a good idea in general. But he also knew Katsuki when he got in this mood, and Izuku was too tired to argue.

Katsuki was waiting outside the front door, shopping bag on the floor, when Izuku arrived.

"Go wash up. I just need fifteen minutes in your kitchen.”

Katsuki was true to his word. By the time Izuku came out of his bedroom in a soft sleep shirt and pajama bottoms, his hair towel damp, Katsuki was already plating a bowl of udon.

"Where's your bowl?" Izuku asked, seeing Katsuki doing clean up instead of joining him to eat.

"Nah, none for me. Just finish that and get some rest."

Katsuki finished wiping down the kitchen the same time Izuku finished his bowl. When Izuku got done brushing his teeth, his bowl was already washed and drying on the counter.

"Come lock this door behind me, nerd.”

Izuku obediently padded back to the living area. He would probably feel more awkward about this, be flustered and second guess himself if Katsuki wanted to be invited to stay or not, but his eyes were already closing, and he couldn't stop yawning.

In any case, Katsuki already had his coat on and stood ready by the door.

"Thank you, Kacchan. I seem to be telling you that a lot these days."

"Yeah, don't mention it. I mean it. Keep it to yourself."

Izuku huffed a laugh despite the yawn. "I'm glad we're friends again.”

Katsuki looked at him. He lifted one hand, brushing his knuckles at the temperamental curls around Izuku's right ear, not quite tucking them back.

"Get some sleep," Katsuki said quietly.

Izuku did. If he dreamt of red eyes and a past love, he didn't remember in the morning.

They weren’t dates. Izuku knew this because he goes on them, and they're not at all like his meetings with Katsuki.

There was a certain expectation in dating. A measuring of the other to see if all the getting-to-know-you would lead to something more.

There was none of that with Katsuki.

They already know each other. Things had already led somewhere, and the entire thing ended with their shared lives in shambles, their hearts broken, and most saddening of all — their friendship over.

This was Izuku and Katsuki reclaiming their friendship. Nothing more.

Sure there was a warmth that comes over Izuku when he first sees Katsuki, and his heart was joyful, at peace, for the few hours that they were together those evenings, but Katsuki has always had that effect on Izuku. There was happiness in simply being with him, sharing space.

Every time Izuku thought how he and Katsuki were friends again, he feels so good inside he can't help but smile at him. Katsuki probably didn’t feel all that happy about it because he always dropped his gaze when Izuku smiled, turned his face away.

But Izuku didn't mind; he can be happy enough for them both.

Izuku’s life had settled into a routine that revolved around hero work most days, and Katsuki one evening out of seven. If he felt lonely some nights, if a day went bad and he wished he had someone to hold on to, well, they soon passed. He had friends enough and people who cared for him.

Some days Izuku yearned for something he didn’t allow himself to examine too closely. Something that’s just out of reach. He surrounded himself with busy work until it passed, or until Thursday night came.

Eight months after he got back to Japan, with jetlag a far distant memory, when he's settled into his new job and has already mapped out all the eating places near his new apartment, Izuku went on what was definitely a date.

He was Iida's friend from before UA. Not a pro hero.

He was sweet and nervous at meeting hero Deku. They went out a few times; never on a Thursday.

But Izuku wasn't sure, and the guy was gracious about it. They decided to just be friends. He asked for Deku's autograph.

"Aww, you don't like him?" Uraraka asked one morning over breakfast. It was their mutual day off, and they just finished a run.

"I do. I think he's great."

"But?"

Izuku shrugged. He wasn't used to having conversations about his love life or lack thereof. Katsuki had liked his privacy, and Izuku got into the habit of keeping things to himself. "But nothing, I like him fine as a person. We just didn't click romantically.”

After that were a couple of dates that Izuku just wanted to forget about, and one that wasn't a complete disaster but Izuku could see early on would not lead anywhere.

He didn't seek any of them; they all either asked Izuku out or were set up by his friends.

Then Todoroki introduced him to one of his distant cousins on his mother's side. She had the silvery white hair and pale looks of their line. Izuku thought she was very pretty.

She registered as a pro hero when she was younger but realized early that it wasn't the life for her. Now she bakes pastries for a living — really good ones, Izuku has tried them — and hopes to have a child one day. She was fun and had a lot of stories about Todoroki when they were younger. She was intelligent, not awed by his fame, and had a quirky sense of humor.

Izuku genuinely liked her.

"What's wrong with her?" Uraraka asked, over the noise of squabbling ducks. She threw more oats to the chaos.

"What?"

"Todoroki's cousin."

"Nothing. She's awesome."

"I know. I've met her."

"Isn't she funny?" Izuku said, smiling.

"She is. She's like a walking, talking check on every quality that people write on 'what's your type' questionnaires."

Izuku nodded, took the bag from Uraraka and threw more oats.

"But you don't like her enough to keep dating her," she persisted.

Izuku frowned at that. "I don't know; maybe I'm just not ready for another relationship. I've got things happening."

“You’ve been here a year. Have you and Bakugou talked about getting back together?" Uraraka said casually. Perhaps too casually.

"That ship's sailed and gone, you know that," Izuku said quietly. "I'm just happy we can be friends again. I didn't think we would be."

"But have you talked about it?”

"No. We don't talk about things like that."

"What do you talk about? You two keep going on these dates—"

"They're not dates. We just meet up as friends. Like we're doing now."

"Mini-dates?"

Izuku laughed.

To be fair, Uraraka was probably right to be curious. Out of all his friends, Izuku saw Katsuki the most. Once a week, in fact. He saw Uraraka every month, if that. The others even less often. Everyone was busy.

But Izuku was under no illusion that those meetings with Katsuki were dates. They've had their chance. And while it had been really good when it was good, it was heart rending when it ended.

But from then on, he and his friends picked up the word "mini-dates" for the weekly meet-ups.

"Midoriya can't on Thursday. Mini-date. Let's Sunday instead?"

or

"I heard Bakugou has a black eye"

"He does! I saw it last mini-date. It was impressive."

or

"I've tried that place. It has a really good katsudon."

"Mini-date?"

“Yeah, from 3 weeks ago."

They never called it that to Katsuki's face though. It was just a funny word to call something Izuku has no name for.

Izuku never discussed his dates with Katsuki. Not that he tried to hide it. His friends knew, and this kind of thing tended to trickle through the class grapevine, if not the hero community at large. Even high powered pro heroes needed a hobby.

He would have talked about it had Katsuki asked. But Katsuki never did.

Just as he never asked about Izuku's broken engagement, and Izuku never questioned Katsuki about his half decade worth of one-night-stands — information courtesy of Kaminari during Jirou's party.

It wasn't that their conversation was superficial; they just avoided certain topics, mindful of keeping their renewed friendship away from potential landmines.

That was before Izuku started dating Shindo Yo.

They went on one date. Izuku wouldn't exactly have called it a roaring success, but it hadn't been bad either. Some of his friends — Katsuki included — didn't like Shindo, but Izuku has never had a problem with him. Not that they had much interaction over the years bar a handful of inter-agency missions.

But for the second date, Shindo wanted to go out on a Thursday.

“I’m sorry, I can’t Thursday.”

“I’m deploying on a mission, I’d probably be gone for three weeks, maybe four, and I— I’d really like to see you again before I go.”

"We can see each other when you get back.”

"I know, but we've known each other for years, and I feel stupid for not asking you out earlier. I just wanna see you again."

Izuku didn't point out that Shindo couldn't have asked him out earlier because first he was with Katsuki, then he was outside Japan. But he supposed he did get what Shindo meant. They both moved in the same circles but haven't really connected before.

"C'mon, Midoriya," Shindo said with a winning smile.

Izuku said yes and immediately regretted doing so.

As if Shindo knew to get out while the getting was good, he left; leaving Izuku with the problem of telling Katsuki he can't make it for their next mini-date.

It turned out easier than he expected.

"What's up, nerd?"

Despite his nervousness, Izuku smiled at hearing the familiar voice over the phone, a warm softness came over him.

"Hi, Kacchan," smile evident in his voice.

"Know what you wanna eat tomorrow?"

"Ah, right! Umm, I called to say I can't make it. Sorry.”

"Oh. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just— I have a date. And he's only free tomorrow."

There was silence on the other side.

"But we can still see each other on Saturday at Tokoyami’s party!" Izuku said cheerfully, barreling on.

"Kacchan?" Izuku prompted as the silence stretched.

He heard Katsuki clearing his throat.

“Yeah. See you at the party."

"Okay. Stay safe until then."

"Yeah. You too."

And Izuku thought that went really well.

Having to choose this date with Shindo over time spent with Katsuki put Izuku in a restless mood. It felt very much like being an adult, doing what you needed to do over what you actually wanted to do.

Still, the food was good and the company charming enough. The date went well except for one sour point: Shindo kept bringing up Katsuki.

Izuku supposed that some of it was meant to be flattering, like saying how lucky Shindo was that Katsuki was dumb enough to let Izuku go.

But acknowledging his past with Katsuki seemed to have paved the way for Shindo to drop comments about him in general—like how embarrassing it was that the #1 pro hero in Japan failed his first provisional license exam. Or how Ground Zero’s explosive ways always landed him in the top 3 in terms of damage caused, unbecoming the so-called Symbol of Victory; never mind that Ground Zero saw more action time than any other active hero, skewing his damage stats.

Shindo seemed to be under the impression that ‘rival’ and ‘ex’ meant that Izuku hated Katsuki — which couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“Kacchan and I are friends, Shindo-san. I count him as one of the most important persons in my life.”

“Isn’t that a bit weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s your ex, isn’t he? And you spend so much time with him. Your next boyfriend's gonna have a problem with him being that close to you. No one wants the famous Ground Zero shoved in their face all the time.”

“I would hope that whoever I love in the future is secure enough not be threatened by my friendship with Kacchan. Insecurity in a partner has never appealed to me.”

“There’s insecurity, and then there’s wanting you to be committed to the relationship without the distraction of your ex and all its baggage. You owe it to your partner not to go running whenever Bakugou calls.”

“I don’t come running whenever he calls,” Izuku protested with a frown.

“That’s good to know.”

They dropped the topic, and Shindo did his charming best to salvage the evening. Despite his better judgment, Izuku reluctantly agreed to see him again when he got back; had even promised to keep in contact while he was away, his mission permitting.

But Shindo’s words left Izuku in a pensive mood. His ex-fiance from across the world had known about Katsuki, but Ground Zero was not the household name there that it was in Japan. He was an abstract; someone Izuku dated when he was younger, a pro hero in another country, sometimes appearing in international news and magazine covers.

Bakugou Katsuki in Japan was something else. There was no escaping him. You either admired the man, or wanted to take him down a peg.

Izuku didn’t want to give up his friendship with Katsuki. It’s precious to him, despite that it’s a pale imitation, a shadow of what they had before. He didn’t want to lose Katsuki, but Izuku misses sharing his life with someone, being part of a whole. Right now, he doesn’t know how to reconcile the two.

Izuku had always been willing to walk through hell for Katsuki. He’d still be willing now. Could any partner live with that fact? Shindo had been telling him he couldn’t, and it wouldn’t be fair for Izuku to ask.

In a moment of weakness, Izuku wished that Katsuki could be that someone again, that they could be together as they were before. Rivals, friends, lovers. Izuku wished that he could be allowed to love him, and that Katsuki could love him back.

It’s been a long time since Izuku cried for Katsuki and what they walked away from. He thought he was all tapped dry. That night, he found out just how wrong he was.

To Izuku’s surprise, Katsuki called the following day, asking if he wanted to grab dinner together. He would normally have been delighted, but Izuku still felt too raw, too exposed; his emotions an open wound he had thought long healed.

“I’d rather not, Kacchan. I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.”

“Too tired for me, nerd?”

Izuku thought this was how he got caught, ensnared in Katsuki’s orbit once again. Had willingly walked into it because a little Katsuki in his life was better than 5 years of nothing.

“Yeah, tired.”

“What’s wrong, Deku?”

Izuku closed his eyes against the concern. “Nothing. I’ll be fine. Just dealing with something. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

When Izuku arrived at Tokoyami’s party, he carried his melancholy with him, wrapped around him like a soft blanket. He scanned the room for a familiar shade of blond, but did no more than wave at Katsuki before joining their friends at the other side of the bar.

A couple of beers in and Izuku felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was Shindo, a day gone and already calling.

Izuku excused himself. The call didn't last long — Izuku only took it in case it was urgent — but Katsuki caught him outside anyway, heard him say goodbye.

“You could do a lot better than Shindo Yo, Deku.”

Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise. They’ve never talked about Izuku’s dates before; Katsuki has never even acknowledged them.

"He seems alright,” Izuku hedged.

"He's a two-faced fucker who thinks he's better than he actually is. Get him near a mirror and you'll lose his attention.”

The attack was unexpected but it triggered a memory, making Izuku smile instead.

Mirrors. He had watched Katsuki through their bathroom mirror for years. His blond hair held away by colored clips, smirking at Izuku through their reflections. But the memory was bittersweet; it was a young Katsuki in his mind’s eye, leaner than the one before him now and in love with Izuku.

"We can't all be as handsome as you, Kacchan.”

"You never cared about how I looked.” Katsuki frowned, unsure if Izuku was mocking him.

Izuku shook his head. "I would have found you blinding either way.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Izuku. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just… I miss—” A sigh. “I’m sorry, Kacchan. I want things that I can’t have anymore. Just let me wallow for tonight, and I’ll be okay tomorrow, alright?”

Izuku gave him a weak smile and turned to go back in but was stopped by Katsuki’s hand circling his wrist.

“That’s what you said yesterday. C’mon, nerd,” Katsuki said, softer than Izuku was expecting. “My place is near. Let’s go talk.”

The last time Izuku was in Katsuki's home, it had been his, as well. They had lived in a one-bedroom flat in the heart of Tokyo; exchanging floor space for closer proximity to their agencies. Izuku had been happy there.

Katsuki’s new home was huge, befitting the #1 pro hero 3 years running. It had nothing of Izuku in it. He had to remind himself he'd been happy in other places, too.

Izuku took the proffered beer and walked over to the panoramic windows, showing an impressive view of the Tokyo skyline.

“The man you almost married. Is he who you’re missing? Did we just hit an anniversary or something?”

Izuku considered what to say. They'd gone from not talking about things to direct questions, peeling away thin but effectively constructed barriers.

“No, nothing like that. I missed you a lot more when we first broke up,” Izuku admitted. “He and I, we were able to talk when we ended it. I can call him up now and he’d answer. You and me, Kacchan, we didn’t have that.”

“You blocked me, Deku. You didn’t tell me you were leaving Japan. You just left,” there was a world of hurt Izuku hadn’t expected in Katsuki’s voice.

Izuku didn’t leave Japan until 2 months after they broke up. He hadn’t begun working on his transfer until 3 weeks had passed and there had been no word from Katsuki.

Katsuki needn’t have searched far to find him; Izuku had been staying with Todoroki who worked in the same agency. A simple “do you know where the nerd is” during one of their patrols would have been enough.

But Izuku didn’t say any of that. It was all a long time ago.

“We weren’t together anymore, Kacchan. I wanted a fresh start.”

“I went to see you,” Katsuki said, fingers fiddling with his beer bottle.

“What?”

“Three years ago. I just took #1. I thought I’d show you how far I’d gone.”

“You never contacted me,” Izuku said with a frown. “Did you?”

“I didn’t see the point. I saw you on TV admitting you were seeing someone. You looked happy.”

Izuku closed his eyes. Three years ago, he’d been 28 years old; three years removed from having Katsuki in his life, happy with someone else. He remembered hearing about Ground Zero finally reaching # 1, remembered wondering how he’s been and if he’s finally happy.

“When did you give up on us, Deku?” Katsuki asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Izuku’s eyes flew open.

“When did I— ” he sputtered, suddenly angry. “Fuck you, Kacchan! You were the one who didn’t want me. I fucking cried over you for a year. You don’t get to dump this on me.”

Izuku had thought he was all cried out and was wrong; he didn’t realize he had anger to spare as well. He walked to the kitchen and put the beer bottle on the counter, worried he’d break it in his agitation. He’d gone from sad to angry in seconds.

Another bottle joined his on the counter. Izuku turned around to find Katsuki close, boxing him in.

“You’re angry.”

“You think?” Izuku said, chest heaving with indignation.

He felt Katsuki’s touch on his elbow, hand trailing down until it circled his wrist, not quite holding his hand. Izuku moved to draw his hand away but Katsuki’s held firm, his thumb on his pulse, dipping to the flesh of his palm.

“I expected anger when you came back. Maybe for you to ignore me. Bitch at me. Something. Anything. You just smiled at me, like we were strangers.”

Izuku shook his head.

“I wasn’t angry! I didn’t want to fight. It was all so long ago. I just— I was just happy to see you, Kacchan. Weren’t you?” Izuku said, his anger draining as fast as it had come; a little lost at the idea Katsuki hadn't been as pleased to see him.

“Happy doesn't quite cover what I felt. You were suddenly there, back in my life. I knew I missed you. I was so angry when you left, so fucking angry for a long time. And I hated you a little for moving on. But I missed you anyway.”

Katsuki lifted his other hand, brushing his knuckles gently over Izuku’s temple, just above his ear. “Wanna hear something really fucked up?”

Izuku nodded, his green eyes beginning to tear up.

“I see you now. I get to hear your stupid laugh. But I miss you more now than I did when you were gone. You're right here, but I miss you anyway.”

Katsuki’s thumb was perfectly placed to catch Izuku’s tears as they fell, wiping them away.

The first touch of Katsuki’s lips on his was tentative, unsure of his welcome. Izuku heard himself whimper, felt everything inside him respond at the contact. He leaned into the kiss, moving his lips in sweet welcome.

The hand around Izuku’s wrist loosened its hold and moved up, both hands now on either side of his face, tilting him up for Katsuki’s kisses. Izuku gave himself into the kiss, lost in the scent and feel of Katsuki all around him.

They were both panting when Katsuki broke off the kiss, short of breath.

Izuku exhaled a shuddery breath. “What are we doing, Kacchan? I’m not very good with one-night-stands. And especially not with you.”

“Dammit, Deku! I don’t just want a quick fuck,” Katsuki said, voice heavy with emotion, touching their foreheads together. “Stop seeing other people, Deku. Be with me.”

“Kacchan…”

“Come home. Isn’t it time you came back home?”

Because Izuku is Izuku, he started crying.

Izuku traced the jagged scar that slashed across Katsuki’s left side. It had mostly faded white now but it would have been a deep wound, wide and gaping.

He wondered how close Katsuki had come to dying that time. Izuku hadn’t even known about it.

“Hey, eyes up here,” Katsuki said, a finger under Izuku’s chin ensuring he obeyed.

“Was it bad?”

“Bad enough.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Izuku said, and he was.

“You’re here now.”

Izuku crawled up the bed, fitting himself snug against Katsuki’s side, as if he never left it.

“You still sleep on the right side of the bed,” he murmured against skin smelling of burnt sweetness.

“No one’s been in my bed long enough to make me change sides,” Katsuki replied.

Izuku snuggled closer.

“We can get rings tomorrow,” Katsuki said.

Izuku lifted his head in surprise. “Rings?”

“I’ve got enough friends, Deku.”

“Oh."

Izuku once believed he would spend the rest of his life with Katsuki. He desperately he wanted to believe again.

"We won’t be able to wear it though," Izuku finally said. "Hero work”

He saw Katsuki’s features soften in relief, felt his muscles relax as tension left his body.

“We can wear it off duty.”

“Alright, Kacchan. Let’s get rings.”