Chapter Text
It took too long to find a parking spot, and when Katsuki did, it was way too far from the restaurant. It’d take 10 minutes to get there if they walked quickly.
He opened his eyes and peeked at the console. 7:15pm. They were 15 minutes late. He closed his eyes and reciprocated the soft kiss. And he thought that the acceptable amount of time to be late at a big gathering such as their Class dinner tonight is…
‘Around 30 minutes.’ His mind’s eye sees a mess of calculations and numbers and…
He frowned against Izuku’s lips and pulled himself away.
A hand wrapped around the nape of his neck and dragged him back.
Katsuki was just about disgruntled enough to kick up a fuss.
“Oi—”
But his words were promptly eaten up. Izuku moved the kiss along too quickly; close-mouthed, still, and still on the edge of sweet. If a bit forceful.
When Katsuki leaned away, Izuku chased him over the middle console. It was awkward. Cramped. Katsuki’s spine was twisted awkwardly.
Let’s just stay here. Or drive away. Ditch the party altogether. Instead, Katsuki’s mouth had a heart of its own and said, “We’re gonna…” God! Did he need to sound so damn breathless? “Be late, you bastard.”
Izuku pulled back.
“Damn…” he mumbled, already moving forward again. “A few more minutes?”
Katsuki grimaced but, still, let himself be kissed for one more second.
The second passed, and he shoved Izuku away.
“Gah!”
Katsuki slumped into his own seat, pulling the collar of his shirt away from the base of his neck.
“Kacchan,” Izuku snapped without temper, “we still have three more minutes, I think!”
Katsuki looked him up and down; Izuku was red-cheeked and wounded. And indignant.
“You’re gonna need a few minutes to calm down—” began Katsuki, with real venom and meanness, “—you fucking noob.”
And looked down at Izuku’s lap pointedly. It wasn’t exactly a hard-on, but it was certainly headed there.
Izuku leaned away wholeheartedly and tipped his forehead against the window. “Whatever…” Embarrassed. “Gimme a few minutes. I’ll be fine.”
“Gettin’ hard over a bit of making out in a car, like a teenager.” Katsuki ran his hand over his own overheated face.
“Neither of us did any of this as teenagers, Kacchan,” commented Izuku, sardonically.
“We can’t be late!” Katsuki snapped. “So, kill it.” He wasn’t looking at Izuku, so he could not see what expression he was wearing.
“Fix your hair.” Katsuki flicked the passenger mirror down. “Or they’ll know something’s up.”
Izuku scoffed. “I doubt it.”
Which made Katsuki’s frown evolve into a real sneer. “You think this is a joke? You want the extras to find out about this and start bothering us seven days a week?”
Izuku huffed and turned away. Sulking. Fiddling with his hair. He grumbled, “They’re not even looking for something like this. You’re overthinking.” After all, Katsuki wondered, who would expect this? He knew Izuku thought something similar.
“Maybe your extras might miss it, but mine won’t. They’re,” Katsuki wondered how to describe it, “like…spiritual virgins. If not real virgins.” Izuku tried to mask his quiet, shameful chuckle. “And a sniff of gossip about someone’s love life is like having a hand stuck into their pants. Forgive me for not wanting to fucking jerk them off.”
Izuku coughed! Then, his head lolled away from the window, and he looked at Katsuki—baffled. “You’re so…” he mumbled, then chuckled.
Katsuki was already halfway out the door, and the first thing he did once out was take a deep breath. It felt nice. It felt nicer as he circled around the car, hooked his fingers on the handle of the passenger-side door, and yanked it open.
What would feel even nicer is a damn drink.
Katsuki rubbed his palm against the nape of his neck to dampen the touches still lingering there, and begged his heart to steady. He leaned an outstretched arm against the car hood and waited for Izuku to come out. “You good?” he asked, absentmindedly.
Izuku did not answer. He climbed out. And Katsuki did not step away to make it any easier for him.
Katsuki laughed and said, “You still look fucked.”
Izuku glared at him.
He kept glaring.
In the next second, his hands reached up like lightning! Digging his fingers in Katsuki’s hair and messing it up.
“What the fuck!?” Katsuki shoved his palm against Izuku’s face. “Stop it!”
“Hah!?” Izuku narrowed his eyes disbelievingly. “Now we’re even. But…” he frowned, “you still look good...”
He tried to reach out again, but this time Katsuki caught both his wrists in one hand and pulled him away. He felt his lips begin to smile, so Katsuki turned around to cloak it. “We’re gonna be late.”
He led them down the alleyway, eyes flickering to his phone where a digital map lit up their path perfectly towards the restaurant that whoever had chosen for the Class A dinner, to celebrate Ochako Uraraka breaking into the Top 15.
“Oi.” Katsuki looked over his shoulder, waiting for Izuku to catch up and locking his car with a flick of his wrist. “Sit with your friends today.”
“Huh?” Izuku quirked his head to the side, in question.
“What?” Katsuki questioned, continuing to march forth.
Today’s destination was a fairly popular restaurant. So, it wouldn’t take a genius to guess that it would be found in a fairly popular street. Katsuki prepared himself for it, thinking how he’d much rather spend his Friday night at home.
“Why can’t I sit with you?” Izuku asked. “Not like I wasn’t going to sit with them anyway! And,” he could go on and on sometimes, “it’s Ochako’s celebration, so of course I’d want to sit with her,” he said, “and what is all this ‘your friends’ business? We’re all friends, as far as I know!”
Katsuki paused at the crossing and turned around.
“And what do you know, huh?” He squinted disbelievingly. “We’ve spent every day together this week.”
Izuku blinked at him.
And Katsuki melted and hardened all at once.
Looking ahead, Katsuki said, “You can’t neglect your friends, you idiot.”
“I don’t neglect my friends, Kacchan!” Izuku said brightly. “I’m not a finite pie. Everyone can have a slice.”
“Way to make a guy feel special.”
Izuku clammed up and flustered. “N-no, I mean…” Katsuki laughed. “You can eat me. Whenever you want!”
Katsuki laughed even harder.
They had reached the pavement when Katsuki felt a grip on his suit jacket.
“I want to spend time with you,” said Izuku purposefully.
Sometimes Izuku spoke so earnestly and directly that it annoyed Katsuki more than it charmed him.
And…
Katsuki shrugged. “Yeah, well… They’ll appreciate it.”
Izuku considered this.
“Can I come over tonight?” This is rare.
“Yeah.” An answer that came embarrassingly quickly.
Arriving at the nondescript high-rise with billboards stacked along the side, Katsuki punched the button to the elevator and waited with an air of impatience.
“God,” he rued, “why the hell does it have to be Italian food anyway?”
“You don’t like Italian food?” asked Izuku.
The elevator arrived.
“Japanese Italian food fucking sucks.” He punched the third-floor button. “Just blastin’ dishes with sugar for no reason. Of course, she’d pick something like this.”
Izuku looked at Katsuki but did not respond; the man who could go on and on, mind you, did not respond.
So, in this short silence, Katsuki thought about how—once upon a time—Italian food was just Italian food. Now, it was Japanese Italian food. Once upon a time, he only knew this place. And nothing else had existed.
Back then, his life had only facets and no contrast.
“About time!” snapped Denki as he spotted Katsuki. He’s already fuckin flushed.
Where the labyrinth between tasteful, tableclothed tables diverged into their two worlds, Katsuki swayed into Izuku with a bespoke nudge and made his way towards the table tucked away in the corner.
“Hey,” Eijirou greeted as Katsuki slid into the chair beside him. “What’s up?”
There was already a glass dripping with condensation on his placemat.
“Dude, you look like a mess!”
Katsuki answered, “Coming straight from meetings. And it was windy! Back off.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“What did you do all day?” Eijirou was warm, loose, and certainly not tense.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes and assessed.
Not tense but…
It was there in the eyes.
Eyes that watched Katsuki intently.
What was Katsuki doing all day? The thought made him instantly reach out for his drink—a tangy, tangerine-flavoured whatever.
He set it down.
“Nothing. Just working.”
Eijirou hummed nonchalantly.
Their table seemed to come alive after the answer. Instantly alive.
Katsuki watched them curiously.
Eventually, Round Face arrived, everyone cheered, Katsuki clapped—bored and reluctant, and the night became a matter of waiting to get the hell out.
“She’s on your heels, man,” Sero taunted from across Katsuki at one point.
Katsuki scoffed. “Big difference between number 14 and number 6!” Snapping. “And as if any of that even matters.”
“Yeah,” Mina drawled, unconvinced. “You don’t give a damn about rankings. Yeah, yeah.” Before Katsuki could snap at her, she straightened and addressed the table, “So! Anyone coming out tonight?”
The collective response was mediocre. Katsuki almost didn’t entertain it. Then, he tried to. He forced himself to think of how the night could go if he stuck by these animals; he let himself become one. They would drag their feet to a bar, then maybe a club, then one of their lousy apartments…
‘God, I don’t want to.’
In fact, he never wanted to do anything less. And this feeling concerned him.
“I’m out,” he said.
Sero shrugged.
Denki mulled over it for a moment longer.
Eijirou stared at Katsuki.
Food came. After just barely managing to finish his pasta—too fucking sweet for his palette, as expected—the busier members of Class A took their leave (which did not include anyone at Katsuki’s table, coming with no damn surprise).
Mina brought up the matter again. “If not tonight, then let's do something on our day off. Something fun. I’m so sick of always eating or drinking.”
“Any ideas?” Eijirou threw the question at Katsuki.
Who shrugged disinterestedly.
Jirou spoke up, “What about an amusement park? Heroland? They have a new All Might ride that my sidekicks can’t stop talking about.”
Katsuki thought about it. “Can’t.” It was a quick answer. Too quick. Too assertive. His friends—animals, remember?—had caught a scent. They turned to him with eerie slowness.
You’d think they’re all stupid, but you’d also be stupid to think so. But there’s a reason why Katsuki doesn’t indulge himself in cars before class dinners.
They watched him with intent eyes.
“Why?” asked Denki.
‘I’m saving it for him.’
But he can’t exactly say that. He could. He doesn’t want to.
And there was no time to think of something clever.
“Sounds boring,” Katsuki said instead.
Mina laughed loudly. Meanly. “Well, I think it’s a good idea, so suck it up!”
The table broke out in varying levels of cheers as they stumbled over their own tongues to discuss logistics, opinions, and their own enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Katsuki’s sneer enriched. And not for the first time that evening, his eyes flickered to the table behind his own.
“’m gonna go congratulate Round Face, or whatever.”
Most people had left by then—Katsuki would have ditched, too, if Izuku hadn’t looked so… engrossed and goddamned delighted all night. When he arrived, Four-eyes, Round Face, Shouto and Izuku straightened in attention.
“Oi.” She looked up and twisted around. “Congrats, Round Face.” It was not exactly kind, nor was it encouraging. Yet her cheeks were pinker than usual, and her gaze: hazy. She grinned brightly at him, clenched a fist and bumped his arm.
“Ow!”
“Gee, thanks, Bakugou!” And smiled toothily. He couldn’t quite return it.
“Hey, Katsuki,” Shouto greeted, and Katsuki offered him a nod in greeting.
“Hi, Kacchan,” and that would be Izuku, who sat across from Uraraka and, therefore, across from Katsuki. “How have you been?” He smiled, and it buzzed. A giddiness reached the eyes. And Katsuki thought it was all so obvious. How could no one see what was going on here? Were people stupid?
The exchange lasted no more than two seconds, but these seconds reached into Katsuki’s gut, dug their hands through it and flipped the switch of the alcohol which had settled there, dormant before.
Eventually, the night had whittled down to a select few.
And would you have guessed it…
“When the fuck are you all going home?” Katsuki grumbled to his friends.
Eijirou flipped his phone up and took a look at the time. “Ah, damn!” he slurred. “I gotta get the last train.”
Jirou hummed. “I’ll come—ah! Hey Midoriya. Did Ochako get home all okay?”
Katsuki looked up quickly, and Izuku stumbled to their table.
“Ah,” he slid into a seat beside Eijirou, “Tenya had to take her home. But it’s all in hand!” Bright.
‘Let’s get out of here.’
“I’m gonna call a taxi!” declared Mina, slamming her hand on the table.
Katsuki raised a brow.
This had happened last time, too.
Kaminari leaned into her space. “AH! C’mon, lemme add a stop to your journey.”
“No way!” Mina dragged her phone closer to her chest. “My trip gets more expensive, and yours gets cheaper! What do I get in return?”
Denki began pleading with her.
Enough.
“I’ll drop anyone who lives in the east,” Katsuki offered nonchalantly, but watched intently.
It was a test.
There was a lull.
A short one.
Then—
“Nah, it’s fine, dude. I wanna take the train,” said Eijirou.
A round of agreements.
There!
Proof.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, and he glared at them all. “The fuck is going on? Since when do you cheapos deny a free ride?”
He looked around. Izuku was there, leaning forward in curiosity, his eyes wide.
“Ah…” Denki’s eyes flickered about nervously. The ceiling, the bar, the centrepiece. “A taxi would work just fine!”
Katsuki fumed. “Out with it, you idiots! You think I’m fuckin’ stupid!?”
Their resolve was softening.
“Ah…”
Everyone turned to Eijirou.
Who sighed in resignation.
“I guess I’ll bring it up…” He turned to Katsuki. “Perhaps…some of us have noticed that you have been busy lately.”
Everyone started grinning like idiots. Teasingly. Their demeanour—which had, apparently, been poorly restrained—overflowed instantly.
Izuku, who was absolutely not in on the joke, looked around questioningly.
“Tasks?” Katsuki asked, deadpan.
Denki leaned into him, and Katsuki half-heartedly pushed him away.
“C’mon, cats outta the bag!”
“Hah!?”
There is no way.
Jirou sighed. “They think you’re seeing someone,” putting him out of his misery.
And to Katsuki’s defence, he did not react at all.
You see, he knew his friends, and he had considered that they would sniff it out one day—
“—And we know who it is!” Mina yelled.
And that’s when Katsuki startled.
Had he underestimated their intelligence?
“No, you don’t,” Katsuki snapped, “because I’m not—”
Denki yelled, “It’s that dude! The Bone Breaker! Right!? Ah… What’s his name? Shizuo? That boxer we saw last month in that charity match!”
Katsuki, slowly, turned to Denki. Blinked.
And realised…
Realised that, in fact, Katsuki Bakugou is exactly as smart as he thinks, and did not underestimate his friends’ intelligence. He estimated pretty correctly, actually.
Denki stared back, buzzing with expectancy.
Waiting.
“You’re…” Katsuki started and took a deep breath before continuing, “…an idiot.”
Sero leaned over the table, looking at Katsuki carefully. He hummed.
Denki cried out, “I know I’m right!” He looked determinedly at Sero.
Katsuki screamed, “Why’re you trying to convince him!?”
“Methinks there is something here…” mused Sero.
“You have been smiling a lot lately…” Jirou piled on.
“Shut up!”
“He’s very, very cute, Katsuki!” Mina brandished a giant, beaming thumbs-up. “Well done!”
“I don’t even know who that is!” Katsuki snapped.
“Yeah, you do!” Eijirou jabbed Katsuki with his elbow. “We saw his fight together, remember. You said he fought well.”
He grinned like a Cheshire cat. Katsuki looked at each and every person and realised they were all jerking each other off in excitement. And Katsuki was not impressed.
He squinted an eye in disbelief. “I think even Tape Face fights well. Doesn’t mean I wanna fuck him.”
“Really?” Tape Face in question became giddy.
“Dude, he just said he doesn’t want to fuck you.”
“Oh.” Frowning mournfully.
Mina leaned completely over the table, addressing everyone. “No, no, no. Fights well is ‘Bakugou’ for he’s caught my eye.”
This is ridiculous.
Denki snapped his fingers, calling all attention to himself. “Exactly!” He slumped back into his seat, riding on the high of an empty victory. “And he’s totally your type! All charming and rugged and looks like he can…well, break your bones.”
“Yeah, I dunno, Bakugou,” drawled Jirou, “I’ve noticed running off lately. Maybe he’s onto something…. For the first time in his life, I might add.”
“I heard he has a cool quirk, right?” mused Sero.
Mina started typing furiously into her phone. “Yes, yes, I remember…. Something about turning images into sounds? Yup, look!” She shoved her phone in Jirou’s face across the table. “He makes quirk content on his social media.”
“Not very bone-breaky of him…” Eijirou hummed. “He looks sweet.”
“What a beautiful quirk.” Jirou smiled gently, eyes wide as the warm glow of Mina’s phone lit her face in neon lights.
“Wow.” An unexpected voice. Katsuki’s eyes shot up and landed on Izuku. Who stared at him wide-eyed and was grinning brightly. “You’re seeing someone, Kacchan!?” He leaned over the table, buzzing with excitement. “I hope it’s going well! But,” he chuckled, “knowing you, I bet it is.”
Katsuki blinked and tilted his head to the side. Facing Izuku’s bright, toothy smile and his eyes…
Sero began, “So, when did you—”
“Drop it,” Katsuki snapped. It was quiet and direct.
“Aw—”
“Yeah!” Eijirou clapped Katsuki on the shoulder, which Katsuki shook away with more force than necessary. “Let him date—” Katsuki glared, “—or not date! In privacy! C’mon, guys, I’m gonna miss my train.”
“Well, if you’re really not dating, then maybe you can still drop me home after all—”
“—Eat shit.”
When they arrived in Katsuki’s apartment, he declared, “I’m showering first.”
“When do you not shower first?” Izuku drawled sardonically from behind him.
“I’m payin’ the water bill, I’m showering first!” Katsuki griped, already shucking his stuffy suit jacket away and undoing the buttons on his shirt.
“I’ve been saying let’s spend some time at my apartment, Kacchan!” Izuku picked up the discarded jacket and slung it over his arm. “If you wanted to shower first there, then you’re happy to, of course! It’s not like I’d make a fuss about showering first just because it’s my apartment, haha…” Trailing behind Katsuki, chatting in his ear. “But if you’re so concerned about bills, then run up my water bill once in a while!”
So stupidly helpful.
It’s annoying.
Because everything he did—every touch, every action, every favour—used the muscles of a hero. Katsuki just had to get used to it—dating a hero. A hero in a different way than Red Riot, or Uravity, or Shouto. Better than them. Dynamight, too.
Katsuki watched Izuku pluck out a hanger and gently hang Katsuki’s jacket. Katsuki said, “And spend my nights in a fucking UA dorm? No thanks.”
He walked to his bathroom.
“Not a dorm! It’s an apartment!”
“Right.”
“It is!”
Katsuki laughed meanly and slammed the door. His bathroom was exactly how it should be; this was another thorn at his side recently. He was no stranger to sharing his space. He had done it before just fine. Atsuo was scatterbrained; he left his clothes, his shoes, his work materials strewn all over as the tempo of his life swung like a pendulum, taking with it all his things. Eli was a different matter; relatively tidy, having lived quite minimally all this life, but there were still things that griped Katsuki.
Like the goddamn toothpaste marks left on the sink.
The reluctance to do his share of the dishes.
Izuku Midoriya spent a lot of time in this very same apartment over the last two weeks, and he was a ghost. Katsuki’s shampoo had not been moved even a centimetre. Not his toothpaste, either; not his aftershave; not a single speck of dust had been stirred in his wake.
Deku came and left like a limp breeze, stirring nothing.
Later, while Izuku was showering, Katsuki scrolled through his phone.
Meetings. Meetings. Patrolling.
God.
Instead, he opened a new tab and searched, ‘Heroland tickets.’ How much do they go for nowadays? With that new All Might ride, he would bet money that those bastards raised the prices—
“—What are you doing?”
Katsuki flinched.
“None of your damn business!” Clicking his phone shut. “Reading the news.”
Izuku was drying his hair with a towel, wearing his stupid shorts, and one of his tops. And to Katsuki, the occasional domesticity still looked and felt strange. Strange and strangely familiar.
Comfortable, but also absolutely not.
“The news?” Izuku looked at Katsuki, took in his frown, and sighed. “Ah… So you’ve read that piece on the Mighty Star?” Katsuki's frown suddenly turned real and potent. “Don’t worry, Kacchan, people will forget about it soon. But, wow! Talk about harsh, right? A Times New Roman firing squad.
“Someone’s getting fired, alright,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, not intending for Izuku to hear. But when he tutted in disapproval, Katsuki frowned. Katsuki pulled back the duvet, but his movements had a vengeance to them. He couldn’t stop himself. “Fuck that bastard!” he barked. “Took me down to number 6 this month. Round Face jumps up 8 spots, and I’m falling? Because of some idiot in a second-rate newspaper? Bite me.”
He climbed in and stared at Izuku expectantly.
Izuku’s hand wrapped around the towel slowed. His eyes flickered thoughtfully to the hands lying by Katsuki’s side, palm upturned.
He took a step forward; it was hesitant. He cleared his throat and said, “Who cares about rankings nowadays, Kacchan?” With stiff movements, he inched towards the bed. Climbed up. Crawled across.
Katsuki said, “You can bite me, too, asshole Number 4.”
Izuku sat beside with his spine stupidly straight, leaving a polite collection of inches between them.
Katsuki, who was half lying down, looked up in observation. Izuku looked ahead. And Katsuki thought with more than a touch of vindictiveness, so much for all his bravado in the car.
‘Still just a damn nerd.’
Eyes darting all over the room before they landed on Katsuki.
But Katsuki did not cower; he just stared back.
Izuku slowly let himself sink into the bed, sliding down. Then, he turned on his side and faced Katsuki. Looking up. “I…” His voice was so soft that it croaked. “Really like your face cream, by the way.”
Katsuki scoffed; the sound almost became a chuckle. He wanted Izuku to come closer. But then, why didn’t he just reach out and do it? And now it had become a goddamn challenge, so he forced his arm across the space—the artfully calculated inches between them—and grabbed Izuku’s upper arms.
He tugged very gently.
The rest was all Deku.
He shuffled closer and crawled over Katsuki’s chest, holding himself up with his elbows digging into the mattress. It was almost midnight. Izuku was glistening with the face cream that he liked, and his hair was damp with water; he smelled clean. So why not be close?
“My mom got it for me,” said Katsuki. “She likes to obsess over this kinda stuff.”
Izuku smiled and his eyes flicked up to the ceiling in thought. “I should get some for my mom, then. Her birthday is coming up. Well, not really. We’re still a few months away, but I mean, who does it hurt to be prepared? Unless…” he said, “I find something better in the meantime. Ah,” he said, “but that’s stupid. I’d just get that, too. I’m not skimping out on my own mom, ha-ha.”
But the distance between them was small, small enough that the endless chatter made their lips graze.
Izuku looked at Katsuki with those big eyes.
He was comfortable. Right? Had he eased himself into his muttering? Was he slowly coming off his elbows and sinking into Katsuki’s chest?
But something bugged Katsuki.
He let it gnaw at him as he slid one of his arms beneath Izuku’s shirt. Let himself feel the skin with a childlike curiosity. Scratchy palms running up and down slightly damp skin. With his other hand, he lazily ran it through Izuku’s hair. Izuku sighed slightly, and Katsuki felt him relax a little bit against his own body.
Izuku swallowed his mutterings and swerved into a new thing. “We were so rushed in the car tonight,” he said, making Katsuki’s brows tick up. “But now we have all the time in the world!”
With the world between them, with a ticking timebomb dictating how long they may touch each other for, Izuku Midoriya had been brave and selfish. He had flung himself against Katsuki, had stolen every last second he could. Katsuki and Izuku had been seeing each other for two weeks now. And Katsuki was smart.
He knew, moments like this—where it was just them two, when there were no constraints, no timer—Izuku was…
…suddenly quite shy.
Instead of leaning in and pressing his lips against Katsuki’s as they both wanted him to, Izuku’s eyes shook imperceptibly, and he dropped his head. Gently. Into the crook of Katsuki’s neck and shoulders.
Katsuki sighed.
He could fall into contentment.
Yet.
Something was gnawing at him.
“Oi,” Katsuki said softly. He steeled his voice to harden as he continued, “I gotta ask you something.”
That gentle vibe had been shattered by the force of Izuku’s growing curiosity.
He raised himself on his elbows and looked down at Katsuki with urgency.
“Yes?” he asked. “What’s the matter, Kacchan?”
Katsuki opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
‘Coward!’
The thought seemed to annoy him enough to force the words from his tongue. “Why’d’ya say that stuff? At the dinner?” Izuku appeared confused. Katsuki breathed out through his nose, roughly. “About…that guy the extras thought I was dating. You were acting all excited and stuff.”
For a moment, Izuku did not react. He just stared blankly down at Katsuki.
Then, his expression morphed into the perfect picture of incredulity.
“Huh?” He chuckled airily. “I was…you know…playing the part. I didn’t want to give us away!” he said, perfectly brightly. “I thought we agreed to keep it to ourselves for the time.”
That’s true, Katsuki thought. He wasn’t stupid. Katsuki had thought about this possibility both at the table and in the shower just now.
Even still…
“Even still,” Katsuki stared at him, unabashedly; his eyes stuck on Izuku’s brows, the colour and luminosity of his eyes, the tilting of his incredulous smile. Looking for clues. “It was strange. You sure you’re okay?”
Izuku laughed.
“Kacchan, I know you think it’ll be me who gives us away!” He laughed again, pulling away from Katsuki. “But, trust me, I won’t!”
Katsuki looked up at him with narrow, unsure eyes. “You tellin’ me you’re a good liar, then?”
“I did keep One For All from everyone pretty good, didn’t I?” Izuku grinned toothily. His eyes closed against the force of it.
“Not from me.”
Izuku plopped back onto Katsuki’s chest, hiding his face from his line of vision now.
“—Mph!” Katsuki, winded.
“Stop thinking of such silly things, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbled against his chest. “I’m fine.”
Right. Silly me.
“I agreed to get brunch with Tenya and Ochako tomorrow,” mused Izuku, running his finger lazily across Katsuki’s torso. “Thought I should let you know.”
Katsuki hummed.
“What are your plans?” Izuku asked.
Katsuki was distracted.
“Dunno yet,” Katsuki finished.
Izuku did not respond.
His lips brushed against the column of Katsuki’s neck.
Bold. Uncommonly bold.
“Izuku.” Katsuki grabbed his nape and pulled him up. “Are you sure there was nothing going through that stupid head of yours?”
It was his version of danger sense. Katsuki’s words cut through the veneer of calmness which filled the dimly lit bedroom.
“Huh?” It was a strong sound. “Kacchan, why keep bringing it up? I mean it; it was nothing.”
This time, Izuku did not meet Katsuki’s gaze.
Katsuki hummed, unconvinced.
“Why’re you so fixated on this?” Izuku grumbled, annoyed without bite. Without teeth.
“Izuku.” Katsuki’s voice was firm. Strong. “Look at me for a sec.” A hunch.
Izuku sighed.
He raised himself on his elbows again.
And he bared his face defiantly.
His brows were slightly crimped—in confusion—and he met Katsuki’s eyes dead straight.
And Katsuki stared back. Searching.
Searching.
There was absolutely nothing out of place there: not in his eyes, not in his lips, not in his demeanour, not in his manners.
This was Izuku Midoriya.
‘Am I going fucking crazy?’ Was his Izuku Sense out of whack?
For good measure, Katsuki held his eyes for a second longer than he should have.
And…
A trick of the light?
Or was that a thin sheen of water, collecting in those eyes?
Izuku blinked.
Katsuki looked closer.
Izuku blinked again—a bit too roughly, a bit too quickly.
But the water pooled too quickly for him to banish.
“I knew it!” Katsuki snapped.
He snaked his hands up with lightning speed towards Izuku’s face.
Izuku reeled away from Katsuki, trying to hide.
Katsuki was quick to grab his wrists. It was turning into a tussle.
One of Katsuki’s hands took a sharp right-turn, grabbed Izuku and held him in place.
“It—it’s nothing!” Izuku snapped with vehemence, looking to the side. “I was fine.”
One of Katsuki’s hands came to brush the water away, but it was slapped away by Izuku’s, who did it himself and scrambled away to his side of the bed. “You—you just… Ah, so relentless, Kacchan…” Speaking more to himself now.
“Izuku.” Fine. Maybe Katsuki was getting annoyed, too. He sat up. “You’re being stupid,” Katsuki snapped.
“I know!” Izuku snapped right back.
“Why’re you upset?” Katsuki asked.
“I don’t know…” Izuku forced himself to breathe, but it was shallow. “I dunno.”
Katsuki sighed. “Why’d you force yourself to be all bright and encouraging, hah?” This might be an easier question.
Izuku shrugged.
He is so frustrating!
“Doesn’t it feel shitty?” Katsuki asked directly. This time, Izuku opened his eyes completely and looked up at Katsuki, confused and teary-eyed.
“What?” he asked, dazed.
“To make yourself act like that, when that’s not how you feel?”
Izuku did not respond.
He kept staring.
“Y-yeah. Y-y-yeah,” he answered quietly. His face slackened in understanding. “I guess I was a little sad.”
Katsuki sighed.
For a moment, both of them were quiet, tending to their own thoughts. Finally, Izuku began, “You… The boxing match you went to see… Um, when was it? Sounds super interesting. I didn’t know you were into that.”
“Before we agreed to date,” Katsuki answered. “Like 2 months ago. And he was just a damn extra.”
This conversation was descending into absurdity.
Izuku turned his face away to collect himself.
Then, he suddenly slumped all the way into the bed and laid down.
“Your friends… They’d be really surprised to find out about us, don’t you think?”
Katsuki reeled.
Straightened, on his knees.
He had a commanding view of Izuku now.
You see, Katsuki couldn’t even tell you what that extra looked like. But right now, beside him, there was Izuku Midoriya—kind of pouting, holding his shoulders right up to his ears and curling into himself. His shirt was riding up. His hair was sprawled across his forehead in damp clumps. His cheeks were red, as was his nose. His lashes were wet and appeared longer.
‘He looks good when he’s crying.’
It was such a disgusting thought that Katsuki immediately smothered it. And felt shameful.
“You agreed that the extras would just ruin it for us right now if they knew,” Katsuki said, quickly. As if he had just been accused.
“I—I know,” Izuku rushed out.
Katsuki sighed. Sorry, he wanted to say. I hadn’t meant to say that.
“But—but, yeah,” Izuku stuttered. “Of course you should be with the Bone Breaker!” A joke.
Katsuki cracked a smile, ignoring his own tumultuous feelings on the matter. “You’ll find I’m with Bone Breaker: original. My one can only break his own, though.” Katsuki let himself collapse on the bed beside Izuku.
Katsuki leaned over to his bedside table, switched his lamp off, and laid down in earnest. They went under the duvet, but stayed on their respective sides.
After a lull, Izuku said, “I know it’s stupid,” into the darkness.
“It’s not.”
Katsuki heard a shuffle of cotton. Maybe Izuku had turned toward him?
“People think stupid things sometimes,” said Katsuki. He did not sound kind. He did not sound comforting. He said it as if it were a sound truth, with no deeper meaning. “What’s stupid is that you tried to lie about it, you idiot! I had to ask at least seven times for some honesty!” Accusatory.
“Argh! God, we could’ve just moved on. Such a small thing, and you’ve inflated it.” He sounded childish. A rant that settled on the edge of a fit. “God, Kacchan, I’m mortified. Cryin’ for no reason.”
Katsuki sighed. “It’s no big deal.”
Izuku exhaled.
Should I touch him? Should I lean over? Should I say: fuck our sides of the bed, let's meet in the middle? He does none of those things, but does wonder what would happen if he let instinct take over. He’d...
He is jumping through the window! Landing on solid ground. He dances on the streets like a goddamn lunatic. His lungs scream and scream. Everyone on the roadside runs away in fear, and Katsuki doesn’t recognise the sounds coming from his mouth.
“We should go to sleep, idiot,” Katsuki said, instead.
“Yeah…” Izuku crawled closer, and as the night progressed, his forehead came to rest on Katsuki’s shoulder.
Before he fell asleep, Katsuki wondered if he should have just turned the car around like he had wanted to. Would his night have turned out differently?