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The city has that strange, bruised light that comes before a storm, neon signs bleeding into low clouds, air thick enough to taste. Patrol had ended fifteen minutes ago, but Katsuki still feels the buzz of adrenaline under his skin. He’s walking fast, half out of habit, half out of the need to burn it off.
Beside him, Izuku matches his pace without trying. The hum of traffic, the sound of their boots on slick pavement, the faint crackle of static in the air, all of it folded into something almost peaceful.
“It’s gonna rain, right?” Izuku asked, glancing up at the sky. “Pressure’s dropping fast.”
Katsuki grunted. “I can feel my hair standin’ up, yeah. Stupid weather app said this wouldn’t hit till midnight.”
Izuku smiled, voice light. “I stopped trusting that app a long time ago. It’s never right. I tried to complain once to the app store to try to fix it but I never got a response. Maybe if I tried to call instead. That was the day it started raining in the middle of that press conference, you remember that? I was so upset because I had just gotten a new suit-”
“Oh my God do you ever shut up?” Katsuki snapped. Irritated, but nothing any different than usual. Then quieter, “Maybe I should complain about you to the damn agency.”
Izuku quirked up an eye brow, ‘You asked me to be your hero partner, Kacchan. You don’t get to complain about me being here to anyone but yourself.”
Katsuki just grunted, “You still annoy me.”
The first fat raindrop splashed against Izuku’s nose; he blinked, startled, then laughed. In another heartbeat, the sky cracked open.
“Damn it!” Katsuki shouted as he bolted for cover. Izuku stayed there, taking a lingering second before realizing he should probably move too. He didn’t hate the rain as much as his friend.
They ran for cover, the closest thing a narrow convenience store awning, its metal rattling loud under the sudden downpour. They had only been in the rain for a few seconds each, but both were drenched.
“Damn it,” Katsuki groans again, glaring at the sky, “Fuck. It’s coming down hard.”
“Nice call, Kacchan,” Izuku said between breaths, looking around the thin, small area of barely dry concrete that they were now trapped in. “Real strategic thinking.”
“Shut it, nerd.” Katsuki shook his head, spraying droplets everywhere.
“Hey!” Izuku laughed, swiping water from his face. “You’re making it worse!”
“You’re already soaked,” Katsuki shot back.
The rain came harder, turning the street beyond the awning into a shimmering mirror of lights and movement. They stood shoulder to shoulder, close enough that the warmth of Izuku’s body cut through the chill, and Katsuki was angry and annoyed and tired and also okay with it.
The rain will pass, they’ll get back to their respective hotel rooms that they’re staying in for the week while they’re covering patrols in Tokyo. And then he’ll take a shower, get dry and warm, and be fine again. But right now he’s cold, and damp, and agitated. He just closes his eyes and tries to imagine the warm curry leftovers he’d eat when he got back.
“Kacchan” Izuku’s voice came quiet, soft.
‘What.”
“You hate the rain, don’t you?”
Katsuki’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t open his eyes. ‘Obviously. You already know that, Deku.”
A chuckle. “Patrol’s over, you still callin’ me that?”
“You’re still in your hero suit, aren’t you?”
Izuku hummed quietly and turned his attention back to the downpour in front of them. “Was just double checking I had my facts right.”
“Why, so you can put it in that creepy stalker notebook about me?” Katsuki accused, eyes open now but narrowed as his gaze bore into Izuku’s side profile. This causes a laugh to escape from his throat and he shook his head.
“I haven’t used those notebooks in a long time.” Izuku mutters, but the tone in his voice is distant, far off like he’s thinking about something.
Katsuki sits with that for a second. Now that he thinks about it, Izuku is right, he hasn’t seen him furiously scribble away in his notebook after watching Katsuki in action for a good long minute. He struggles to remember the last time. He stands up a little straighter and turns just slightly so his body is angled toward Izuku a bit.
“...Yeah,” he says it slowly as that realization settles over him. “You haven’t. What the hell? Why don’t you use those anymore?”
Izuku looks at him again, the sudden accusatory tone in Katsuki’s voice making him pay attention more. He shrugs, “I don’t know I guess I just fell out of the habit. I still take notes though, just, mostly they're about my students. Or villains I fight.”
Katsuki stares at him for a moment. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable feeling he gets in his gut at that. Like he wasn’t worth writing about anymore.
“I guess you already wrote down everything there is to know about me.”
Izuku laughs, “I spent nearly two decades taking notes on you and how you fight, Kacchan. But honestly, I don’t need them anymore. We're together a lot. I think I know everything I need to.”
There was a long silence as gears started turning. The grins slithers onto Katsuki’s face before he can stop it. “Me and how I fight?”
Izuku bristles at that tone of voice. Like Katsuki had just figured something out and was about to put it to use in a way that would probably give him a headache if he let it. It was his turn to narrow his eyes, but he kept them staring straight ahead.
“...Yeah?”
“I only ever saw your combat notes.”
Izuku is tense now and tries (but fails) not to let it show. “Those were the only ones.”
“You just said me and how I fight. That implies you wrote more than just my fighting style in there. What other notes did you take about me? How awesome I am? How badly you wish you could be me?”
Izuku gives up and offers a blank, almost exasperated glare, ‘Mostly about how hot-headed you were and how I couldn’t wait to get away from you.”
Katsuki snorts and shakes his head, “Now, we both know that’s not true, nerd. You followed me around like a puppy dog back then. You ain’t wanna get away from me.’”
“I do right now.”
Katsuki’s eyes widen and he laughs, actually laughs out loud when Izuku’s mouth pops open at his own words. They came out sharper and more direct than he meant for them to.
‘Oh my gosh, Kacchan that was so mean of me! I take that back, I’m sorry!” Izuku’s hands came up and he waved them back and forth with worry, his own eyes wide as saucers, frantic to make it right again. Katsuki only finds himself amused at his hero partner’s inability to hurt someone’s feelings, especially after having seen him rage against villains all these years. A menace on the battlefield, a soft, kind man everywhere else.
“Relax idiot, that wasn’t even that bad. Man, you suck at insults.”
Izuku sighs after a moment and lets his hands drop to his side. He leans back against the concrete wall behind them.
“I’m fine with that. I’ve never really felt the need to insult anyone.”
“You just did.”
“Not very well, apparently.”
“Nah, you’re too much of a softie.”
“I-” he grunts, ‘I’m not soft... I’m just nice.”
“Soft.” Is Katsuki’s only reply. Izuku huffs at that but leaves it there. The downpour in front of them seems to only be coming in harder. They’ll probably be here a while.
Katsuki seems to read his mind because he voices those exact inner thoughts next, “This shit ain’t lettin’ up. We’ll be here all night at this rate.”
Izuku doesn’t respond, just nods.
“Figures,” Katsuki continues, “End a 12-hour shift and the sky decides to piss on us.” Izuku’s lips upturn just slightly at the corners at this remark.
“It could be worse, at least it’s not hailing.”
Katsuki grunts, “Shut up or you’ll jinx it.”
“At least then you’d have someone to blame.”
This causes Katsuki to scoff, a little disbelieving, “You want me to blame you?”
“No, it’s just tradition. I’m used to it. You’re pretty explosive about that kind of stuff.”
Something about that made Katsuki pause. He’s been better lately. A better hero, a better friend, a better man. Their first year at UA changed him, and the apology he’d given Izuku on a rainy night much like tonight had sparked the new stage of their relationship towards one another. Izuku forgave him, and Katsuki changed for the better.
But he was still himself, and he was still learning. Sometimes when Izuku made little comments like that, they made him wonder if he was as different as he thought he was, if he’d made even an ounce of progress at all. He hates the thought, it settles low in his stomach like guilt and possibly dread.
He turns to his friend again to say something, he doesn’t even know what, but then he catches it. The shit eating grin on Izuku’s face. It’s teasing. This little brat is making fun of him.
If looks could kill, Izuku would be on the ground. “You get funnier every year.”
He snickers, “Thank you.”
Katsuki decides in that moment that Izuku is too smug. So he pushes him. Hard, out from under the awning and straight into the falling rain.
Izuku stumbles forward a few steps, a loud shocked “Hey!” bellowing from his lips. He finally catches his balance and spins around eyes wide and accusatory.
Katsuki can only smirk as Izuku becomes increasingly more drenched while he marches back over to him, eyes burning. The blonde tries to step back out of reach as Izuku reaches for him, but in his building adrenaline over what he knew was about to come, he forgets how small the awning and the shelter it provides actually is. He has nowhere to run.
Izuku grabs one of the crisscross orange straps going over Katsuki's chest and yanks him forward into the barrage of water.
As soon as he is dragged away from the safety of their little dry spot, Izuku lets go of him and steps back. Rain hits his face, cold, hard and fast. He immediately shivers at the exposure and whips around to find Izuku who is making his way back to the awning. Oh hell no.
“You’re dead nerd!” He shouts, grabbing Izuku’s scarf and dragging him back. Izuku lets out a sound that’s halfway between a scream and a laugh. Katsuki doesn’t stop there. He slams his boot into a deep puddle right next to them. He gets sprayed too, but it’s worth it when Izuku gasps, spins on his heel, the familiar light of challenge and excitement glinting his eyes when they land on Katsuki’s. Neither of them hide their growing grins as the fight begins.
Izuku drops to one knee, and brings a hand down to that same puddle of water splashing it upwards in Katsuki’s direction. He tries to move out of the way but is too slow, and gets completely soaked all over his legs. He doesn’t hesitate.
He grabs Izukus’ shoulders where he’s kneeled on the ground, and shoves him backwards so he’s sitting on his butt. Izuku’s laugh is bright and loud and it makes Katsuki smirk. He shoves him backwards a little bit more so that the water falling off the corner of the awning in a more consistent and thicker stream hits right on top of Izuku’s head. The man tenses and gasps, and struggles to break free from Katsuki’s grasp.
“Not so tough now, are ya?”
Well, that’s all Izuku needed. Even with his eyes closed to brace against the onslaught of water pouring over his face, he could feel Katsuki’s hands on his shoulders, and that was enough to tell him where he should aim. He sticks his legs out quickly and flails them around randomly until he kicks Katsuki shin. He buckles and his hold on Izuku loosens just enough for Izuku to reach forward, hook his hands under Katsuki's knees and yank them towards him.
Katsuki goes down, landing on his ass in front of Izuku, who can’t stop laughing at this turn of the tables. He scoops up water from a puddle in both hands and quickly throws it at Katsuki's face before he can recover. It doesn’t take him long before he’s at Izuku's throat again though.
His eyes snap open once he runs the water off his face with his hands and he lunges forward, hands on Izuku’s shoulders again, shoving. The two of them continue like that for a little while. Rolling around in the pavement in the rain, shoving each other, splashing each other, firing short jabs at each other back and forth.
Short bursts of laughter, grunts, and the slap of water can be heard throughout the empty street.
They only stop once it’s clear neither of them are going to give up. They end up with Izuku laying on his back, Katsuki leaned over him, eyes hard but alive. Glaring but playful. Izuku squirms to get out of his grip which only makes Katsuki laugh more. This reminds him of when they were younger, how they used to spar all the time. They still train together of course, but it’s not the same.
Back then it had been about nothing but raw emotions, and childlike fun. They weren’t precise or deliberate with their motions back in high school, they were just fumbling their way around the sparring mats and having fun while they did so. This felt like that, and Katsuki enjoyed it. And it made something soften in his chest when he saw the real and un-manicured smile sitting lopsided on Izuku’s face, even though he’d lost. Let himself lose, probably.
“You lose.” He states simply, and hauls himself off of Izuku. He offers a hand, and Izuku takes it. He pulls him to his feet, both men still high on the adrenaline of the little fight, and neither lets go right away. Until they finally do.
“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles as they both make their way back to the awning. They’re both drenched to the bone. The hero suits stick to them uncomfortably. Izuku bunches up the side of the fabric on his and watches the water squeeze out and fall.
He sighs, “We’re both going to get sick tomorrow, aren’t we?”
“Maybe your ass will, but I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not above a common cold, Kacchan.”
“The common cold can kiss my ass.”
Izuku just chuckles and sits down with his back against the concrete wall. They should just go back to the hotel now. They’re both soaked completely, and it’s not like the rain is letting up anytime soon.
But they don’t move to leave. Izuku slumps down even more against the hard pressure at his back and sighs. ‘We’re supposed to be professional heroes, you know.’
He hears Katsuki scoff from where he stands next to him. “Heroes need cardio.”
“Cardio?” Izuku look up at him, “You tried to waterboard me.”
Katsuki snickers, “You were just slow. And yeah, that’s cardio.”
“Not cardio. More like drowning.”
“If calling my victory immoral makes you feel better about losing, you should just say that.”
“Oh shut up. We both lost. The rain did most of the work.”
This earns a soft laugh from both. Katsuki is still so tightly wound up, even these days. It’s nice when he lets himself relax and just be a person. Not Dynamight the hero, or Bakugo the celebrity, just Kacchan.
Izuku feels his ears heat up a bit at the thought. It had taken him years, but finally just a week ago, he made himself watch the news coverage footage of that day. The war.
It was difficult, and he took multiple breaks to calm himself down. But it’s been years and he wanted to see not just his own fight, but everyone’s. Uraraka’s fight with Himiko Toga had made him cry silently. So did Todoroki’s with Toya. Both were combat sequences which were emotionally charged, layered with history and guilt and longing. It was hard to hear what any of them were saying, but over the years he heard a lot from his former classmates about what happened in various parts of the country that day. He could fill in the gaps on his own.
He also watched Katsuki’s fight with All For One. How he so proudly called himself Kacchan Bakugo.
Izuku didn’t know what to do with that when he first watched it. It was almost ten years ago now. He’d said it in the middle of a fight with the world’s greatest villain to ever live, only minutes after he’d been revived from death. It probably just sipped out. He probably didn’t mean to say it. But if he did... what was the context? Was there even any significance in the claim, or was Izuku just overthinking? He chooses to believe he’s just overthinking, it’s easier than dealing with the emotional fallout of trying to put meaning to something that probably had none.
The silence stretches as Izuku busies himself with his thoughts, but then Katsuki’s voice drifts through the haze of internal dialogue, “You think too loud, ya know that?”
Izuku’s eyes snap up. He can’t see Katsuki’s facial expression, just the hard underline of jaw.
“Ah, just got lost in my own head.”
“And you didn’t start mumbling a chorus? Weird.”
Izuku huffs a laugh, “You get annoyed with me when I mumble, and then call me weird when I don’t. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to not be so damn annoying.”
Izuku blinks. “Annoying? Are you trying to pick another fight right now? Because if you are, sorry kacchan, we haven’t even started drying off yet.”
Katsuki shrugs, “It’s habit to pick a fight with you I guess. Been doing it since we were brats.”
Izuku exhales and brings his knees up to his chest, the rain-soaked clothes finally starting to make him shiver. “You were more of a brat than I was,” he mutters off handedly.
Katsuki looks down at him and shrugs again, “You made it easy. Always following me around with that same look on your face.”
“What look?”
“Like I was special or somethin.’”
Izuku’s eyes soften just a fraction, “You are special kacchan.”
Katsuki tenses up at the sincerity in those words. “Well...” He clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe now I am. Y’know being the number five hero and all,” he tries to cover the uncertainty he feels with a forced bravado, “But back then I was just a punk.”
Izuku smiled and looked back out towards the rain, “Well we didn’t help. Me and those other kids from the playground? We were always talking you up, going on and on about how cool you were because of your quirk. If you were a punk, it’s not like we really tried to stop you from being that way very often.’
“You tried.” Katsuki’s voice is gruff now, the amusement left over from their water fight is gone, replaced with something heavier. Not bad, just heavy. “I remember you tryin’ to stick up for other kids I was pickin’ on. Always tryin’ to save everyone.” Izuku doesn’t say anything for a moment, so katsuki continues, just to make to conversation feel lighter again, “it was annoying.”
Izuku laughs, “Alright, I get it. I was annoying as a kid.”
“Damn right you were, always running around yapping your mouth about ‘Wait up Kacchan, don’t go Kacchannnn, wait for meee’”
He imitates young Deku with a high pitched and whiny voice which earns him a slap on the leg from Izuku. He snickers and finally lowers himself down so he was crouching down next to the boy.
Neither of them look at each other, both with their gaze fixed ahead, both with a small smile on their face.
Katsuki huffs out a low laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You still call me that, huh.”
Izuku hums, not really thinking. “Call you what?”
“Kacchan.” Katsuki’s voice is quiet, almost swallowed by the rain. “After all these damn years, you still use it.”
Izuku is suddenly transported back to his living room couch a week ago, hearing katsuki call himself that name.
“Ah, I guess I just I never outgrew it. I don’t know, we’ve known each other forever. It’s all I’ve referred to you by. Do you want me to stop?”
Katsuki just grunts. Not really answer. “I just think about it sometimes. Everyone else calls me by my last name or my hero name. But not you.”
“I call you by your hero name.”
“Yeah, when we’re working as heroes. But that’s not what I’m talking about. If we went to another reunion with everyone, they’d all say ‘Hey Bakugo’ but you would say ‘Hey Kacchan.’ You don’t ever think that’s a little weird?”
‘Do you think it’s a weird?”
Katsuki sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Izuku catches himself watching the movement. “No, damn it. I’m just talking out loud.”
Izuku doesn’t say anything for a minute, neither of them do. Then, he decides, he’ll give it a shot.
He mouths the word first, feeling how it’s shape fits in his mouth and then says it out loud. Short . Slow. Simple.
“Bakugo.”
Katsuki’s head whips towards him fast. For a second, the air stops, The rain maybe stops too. Wine red eyes meet forest green ones, and they’re both wide and uncomfortable.
“I...” Katsuki inhales, “...hate that. Don’t you ever fucking call me that again.”
Izuku, shocked, belts out a laugh. “You were the one who said-”
‘I know what I said!” The words come out like a snarl, a sneer across Katsuki’s face. He looks absolutely disgusted and it’s almost comical. “That was weird as hell. Man, you should never refer to me by my last name ever.”
Izuku’s eyes crinkle at the corners from the large smile spreading across his face.
“Why do you hate it so much?”
“Because it sounds gross. All professional and shit, like we haven’t known each other since were four fucking years old. Like, you’re just some shitty sidekick or some extra from that group of wackos we call friends.”
Izuku’s chest warms a little at that, steering away some of the coldness that his wet clothes were still seeping into him. It made his heart clench, to know that after all this time, Katsuki still keeps Izuku in a separate category than everyone else. Who the hell knows what that category is labeled. Friends? Rivals? Hero Partners?
He doesn’t waste time pondering it. “Okay, so I guess that settles that. I won’t call you Bakugo.”
“Thank fuck.”
Another moment passes. And then, quietly, almost shy, “...Katsuki.”
Time really does stand still on this second attempt. Katsuki’s first instinct is to bark something, anything, to cover the way his stomach drops. But nothing comes out. The word Katsuki hangs there, heavy and strange, and he hates how much he wants to hear it again.
He has no choice but to clear his throat and fiddle with the strap on his gloves. “That’s weird too he mutters.” But these words have no heat behind them. They're quiet, and timid. Not at all the person who was shouting only thirty seconds ago. In a single word, Izuku has reduced Katsuki down to mumbles and nerves. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air, all dramatic defeat, “Then I give up. Kacchan it is.”
Katsuki has nothing to say after. He tries to shake that feeling, that tight one in his chest and stomach and does not succeed. Luckily he’s trapped under this awning with the world’s most consistent yapper, so Izuku fills the empty space for him and the ache of hearing his name on Izuku’s tongue dulls away.
Katsuki doesn’t even listen, offering grunts and half replies in return as Izuku talks. A few minutes pass like that.
Izuku speaks, and Katsuki pretends he’s listening, at some point even tunes in. Katsuki's crouched, Izuku sits, both of them with their backs against the wall. They’re not entirely sure how the conversation shifts, but eventually Izuku starts talking about his students and their quirk theory papers. The moment totally forgotten. Until Katsuki notices Izuku shiver.
He turns toward him slightly, and sees it happen again. He cuts him off mid sentence.
“Oi.” Izuku looks at him, “You cold or something?”
Izuku smiles sheepishly, “Ah yeah, I guess I am a bit. The water on my clothes is kinda chilly. Aren’t you?”
Katsuki shakes his head. “My quirk makes it easy to stay warm. You should know that.”
The man next to him blinks. “Oh right. I did know that, actually.”
“Tch, you forgot?”
Izuku chuckles, “Yeah I guess so. My bad”
Katsuki glares at him. “Guess you still need those notebooks after all, huh?”
Izuku just rolls his eyes. It seems like that should be the end of it, but Katsuki does something without thinking. He reaches his hand forward, palm up, fingers extended just slightly, and activates his quirk. Not all the way, just enough that a soft faint red glow begins to form in this center of his hand. Izuku’s eyes widen in awe, and Katsuki shouldn’t be as satisfied by that reaction as he is.
“Kacchan...” he doesn’t get to say anything else, as Katsuki puts a little more force into it, just a little, and small pebble sized explosions set off in his hand, crackling out of that glow. And Izuku just sits there, amazed. Then he suddenly laughs, and the sound tears Katsuki’s eyes away from his own palm to Izuku’s face.
“I feel the heat,” he says, all giddy like a little kid, “Kacchan, are you trying to warm me up?”
“You don’t want to get sick, right? I am not patrolling this city by myself tomorrow.”
Izuku just beams at him, a smile much warmer than the little spectacle happening in Katsuki’s hand right now. The little crackles continue, and Izuku brings his hand up, not close enough to get burned by them, but close enough he can feel more of their heat.
Izuku just stares, still smiling, his hands posed just near Katsuki’s outstretched palm as if he were trying to warm himself up by a campfire.
“They’re like little fireworks,” Izuku says after a while, “They’re pretty.”
Katsuki says nothing. Just watches Izuku watch his quirk. Watches how the tiny explosions reflect in Izuku’s eyes. Pretty, huh?
Katsuki’s still staring at him, when Izuku finally speaks again.
“Hey, Kacchan… back then, during your fight with All For One…” He hesitates, eyes moving from his hand, searching Katsuki’s face. “You called yourself Kacchan Bakugo. I watched it again a while ago. I never really asked what that meant.”
Katsuki looks away, exhaling hard through his nose. “Didn’t mean anything. Just came out.”
Izuku studies him for a moment. “You don’t say a lot of things by accident.”
“Yeah, well, I’d just died, Deku,” Katsuki mutters, half-laugh, half-defense. “Wasn’t exactly thinkin’ straight.”
Izuku smiles faintly. “Still felt right though, didn’t it?”
Katsuki doesn’t answer.
After sometime, they die down, and Izuku groans, sad to be losing that small amount of warmth. But the faint red glow is still in the middle of Katsuki’s palm, and Izuku stares at it, wondering...
He goes to pull his hand away and Izuku blurts it out before he can think, “Can I touch your hand?”
Katsuki gives him a bewildered look, “That... sounds weird Deku.”
Izuku shakes his head. “I just want to see something.”
Katsuki’s off expression doesn’t leave his face, but he slowly extends his arms again, palm up, red glow still there but fading quickly. Izuku reaches forward, tentatively at first, and lightly brushes his fingers over the soft skin there. Katsuki has to hold back a tremble at the ghost of a touch. Like when the wind just barely brushes the back of your neck.
Izuku doesn’t notice though, his fingers ghosting over the skin there a couple of times, before he finally lets them rest on Katsuki’s palm. They’re not holding hands. Not really. Katsuki’s hand is still completely open, and Izuku only has four fingers resting on Katsuki’s palm, his own palm and thumb hanging off to the side.
“You’re hand is warm,” he says it quietly, like speaking too loud would break the moment.
Katsuki swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know what’s happening. This moment feels too intense. Too strangely intimate for the banter and fun they’d been having just a few minutes ago. He doesn’t even know why.
“Of course it is, idiot. I was just using my quirk.”
Izuku doesn’t mind the insult, “And your hands are calloused.” He looks up at him, “I thought they’d be soft because of all the sweat, but they’re not.”
Katsuki steadies himself by moving from crouching to resting on his knees. His legs were getting tired. Then, hesitantly, he says, “...Yours are cold.”
Izuku just nods, then switches his hands so that the other one can leach off some of that warmth. Katsuki watches the way Izuku’s fingers poke and proud at his own, how the tips of Izuku lightly trace the callouses and scars on Katsuki's hand. The contact is so gentle, it’s almost overwhelming. He just lets it happen.
He doesn’t even realize he’s relaxing until he catches his own reflection in the glass door of the convenience store behind them and sees it: shoulders down, jaw unclenched. He closes his eyes and lets his head drop. Izuku doesn't stop tracing the lines on his palm.
Suddenly, he hears himself speak.
“Hey.”
Izuku hums, still focused on his hand. “Yeah?”
Katsuki takes a second and the looks up at him again. “Call me by my name again.”
Izuku turns to him, startled. “Your… name?”
Katsuki nods once, keeping his eyes Izuku. “Yeah.”
“You mean...Kacchan?”
“No.” His throat works around the word. “The other one.”
Izuku blinks, unsure. “Katsuki?”
The sound folds through the air , soft, unguarded, unpracticed, and every muscle in Katsuki’s body forgets what to do.
He closes his eyes once more.
It’s ridiculous, he knows that. He’s heard his name a million times. From fans, from reporters, from teammates barking orders across smoke-filled streets. But never like this. Never like it meant anything.
In Izuku’s voice it sounds like a promise he didn’t know he’d been waiting for.
He lets the syllables settle. Lets them find their way down, past his ribs, into that place that’s always been locked up tight, the one that used to only answer to Kacchan.
For a few long seconds, the world is all heartbeat and rain that still hasn’t stopped but sems to be slowing now.
When he finally exhales, it comes out shaky. “...Yeah.”
He keeps his eyes closed, just listening. The faint patter of rain. The breathing, his own and Izuku's. The way the silence doesn’t press, just… rests.
He wonders if Izuku realizes what he’s done. If he understands that one quiet word just rewired something inside him.
Maybe he does.
Because when Katsuki opens his eyes, Izuku’s still looking at him, not confused anymore, just patient.
“What was that for?” Izuku asks softly.
Katsuki shrugs, trying for nonchalance. “Just wanted to hear it.”
Izuku’s brow furrows. “Why?”
He could tell him the truth. That hearing it felt like coming home and falling apart all at once. That it made the space between them feel smaller, scarier, and better.
Instead, he smirks. “Wanted to check how ugly you look when you talk.”
Izuku blinks, then snorts, half laughing. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Science experiment.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Try me.”
“You like it when I call you Kacchan. And you like it when I call you by your first name.” Izuku says the words hesitantly, like he’s testing something. This eye contact has been going on too long. Again, Katsuki says nothing.
Slowly, he pulls his hand away and puts his glove back on. The rain is stopping, it’s just a light misting now. He stands, and Izuku follows him.
They don’t move right away. The mist hangs between them like smoke, thin and shining in the streetlight. Katsuki flexes his gloved fingers, the leather still carrying a trace of warmth that isn’t from his quirk. Izuku watches him, hands stuffed into his own damp pockets, smiling in that quiet, uncertain way that means he’s thinking too much.
Katsuki sighs, adjusting the strap on his gauntlet just to have something to do. “C’mon, nerd. Let’s finish get back to the hotel before you catch pneumonia.”
Izuku nods and falls into step beside him. They walk in silence for a block, boots splashing through shallow puddles. The city hums low and steady around them.
When they reach the intersection, Izuku glances over, voice careful. “Katsuki.”
Katsuki looks up, heartbeat stuttering again, but Izuku only jerks his chin toward the sky. “The clouds are leaving, I can see the moon.”
Katsuki doesn’t look up.
Izuku stares at the sky. And Katsuki stares at him.