Chapter Text
“What’re you doing out so late?”
Izuku had shut the door behind him, clicked the lock and set off Katsuki’s nerves again.
“I went for a damn drink- that something I can’t do?”
Everything about him was unnecessary; his words, his tone, the guarded set of his posture. Izuku wasn’t affected by any of it. He simply shook his head and continued bustling about.
“No, I’m just surprised is all. You’re usually asleep by now.”
“And sometimes I’m not.”
“That is how it works I guess.” He stopped his cleaning, looked up with shoulders squared and his fists at his sides. They were little things that proved his collected attitude was all a ruse. “Would you like some tea?”
“That’s not what I came here for.”
He said it even though it wasn’t like he had a fucking clue what it was that he did come for. Izuku tensed a little and looked away. He had always liked to have something to hold onto while he talked- it kept him from picking at his clothes or nervously scratching at his skin.
“But sure.”
“Right.” Izuku ducked into the kitchen quickly.
When he emerged, he was shuffling close with two mugs in his hands. After handing one off to Katsuki, he put some distance between them and held the steaming tea close to his mouth.
“You’re usually asleep too- what’s your excuse?”
“I was cleaning.” Izuku answered quickly before taking a long sip.
“At two-thirty in the morning.”
“Well, you know...” He didn’t finish that- just wandered over to the couch instead and slid down.
“Yeah, I do.” Katsuki followed after him and sat down on the other end of the couch. He continued, irritated tone covering the uncomfortable air between them. “You only do that when you’re stressed. Do you know how annoying it was to wake up to the sound of you bangin’ around your kitchen while you cleaned?”
“So you were awake.” A half-hearted scowl cut over in Katsuki’s direction. “How come you never came and helped then?”
Katsuki swung his arm towards the mess piled atop the coffee table. “Not my job to keep your apartment clean. Just don’t trash it in the first place and you wouldn’t have to do this.”
“Then how would I relieve stress?” He meant it as a joke. He didn’t really want an answer, but Katsuki was already giving him one before he finished.
“I don’t fuckin’ know- maybe just go on a run or rub one out like a normal person.”
“Yeah, because if I had-” Izuku lifted a hand and made air quotes while he stared back unamused. “-rubbed one out, you’re telling me that wouldn’t have made you mad either? And besides, I couldn’t. You were in my bed.”
Katsuki ignored the bitterness rising in his throat to grumble around the lip of his mug instead. “Would’ve been nicer to wake up to that than you trying to quietly sing show tunes while dusting.”
Izuku knew defeat when he heard it, so he huffed but that was about all he let out for a while. They sat, sipping quietly and settling into the heavy weight still separating them.
“So,” Izuku broke through the room while leaning forward to put his tea on the coffee table. “I’m guessing you’re not going to be interested in any small talk.”
Despite the tea being almost sour on his tongue, Katsuki swallowed it straight faced and brought the mug back to his lap. “We’ve never had to do that before, why start now?”
Izuku sighed, but there was an upward turn of his mouth. “Conversation hasn’t exactly been easy for us in a while, has it?”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Both of ours.” He answered without even the slightest pause, all hints of that building smile gone as soon as they’d come.
“I didn’t-“
“It wasn’t like what I did was a decision I had made over night. I thought about it a lot. So much that it was making me sick. And I was confident in it. Believe me, it sucked for me too. I felt horrible and regretful and upset- I still feel a lot of those things, but I don’t think it was the wrong choice.”
Katsuki held his tongue, turned to glare straight ahead, and kept a tight grip around the mug handle.
Izuku heaved another sigh, knowing Katsuki was being as stubborn as he could. “We were drifting apart.” He started again, stating it like it had been obvious.
Maybe it had been.
Because you were leaving, Katsuki thought crossly.
“You started being so short-tempered. Even more so than usual.”
Because you were leaving me
He didn’t have to say it. Izuku knew him better than he knew himself.
“If you didn’t want me to move, why didn’t you just say something?”
“How could I?” Katsuki muttered down toward the last few wisps of warmth from his tea.
Izuku pulled one leg up on the couch so he could lean closer toward him. “What-”
“How could I?” He snapped, loud enough that there was a flinch in the corner of his eye. He dropped his voice back down, shoulders drawn up defensively. “Only an idiot wouldn’t have been able to see how excited you were. I couldn’t-” He shook his head and took his time to set the mug next to Izuku’s. “It wouldn’t have kept you here, so why does it matter?”
“You know why.” Izuku was acting so calm. It was almost maddening how little he was reacting. “You’re not stupid.” He dared to reach a hand out, but once Katsuki gave even the slightest shift away from him, he stopped. “If you had been the one leaving, I wouldn’t have been able to stop you either- but if I had said nothing, pretended like I didn’t care, don’t you think it would’ve made you mad?”
He knew this was going to happen. He knew exactly what Izuku was going to say. And it was playing out like Katsuki had written the scene himself. Still, he could never quite figure out what to say himself. He’d bet good money in any situation on predicting how Izuku would act, what sort of speech he would give. But when it came to his own words, he was lost. He’d grown past the days of yelling something threatening or profane and once that happened, he’d been left with a stoic silence that had to be annoying. Here, Izuku was telling him exactly that- him not being able to speak his mind when it came to his feelings was annoying. It was apparently enough to end their relationship.
Even knowing all of this, nothing left his mouth. Lips were parted, ready to speak, but all his thoughts tangled together and got caught on his teeth before they could make their way out.
Izuku moved closer, so far into his personal space that he was stuck with his eyes on the coffee table.
“It was upsetting.” Izuku was sounding just as unpleasant as Katsuki felt now. At least this seemed more sincere even if it was uncomfortable. “I know you cared, it was so obvious, but you were too prideful to say anything and that hurt me. Even when I was moving to a different country you couldn’t get over yourself long enough to even say you’d miss me.” Izuku bent over, enough that he could look back and catch sight of Katsuki’s scowl. “Did you even think you’d miss me?”
Katsuki’s sharp eyes flicked over, not even trying to hide his anger. “Of course I did, dumbass.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear.”
No. It wasn’t that easy. Izuku couldn’t act like if Katsuki had said that, then everything would have been different. The notion made Katsuki even more frustrated. His fists curled in his lap, headache building from how tightly knitted he’d kept his brows.
“Did I think I’d miss you-” He repeated with a derisive curl of his lip. “That’s a fucking joke.”
Izuku clicked his tongue and frowned. “You should’ve just said so then.”
Katsuki shook his head, flung his hair about before it settled back into place. His sour expression was worsening by the second. “Fuck off with that. I’ve missed you so much. But you know I couldn’t say a damn thing. You decided you were going to leave long before you told me anything. I knew something was up- I can read you just like you read me. You’re telling me I got distant. Maybe because you decided to fuck off without giving me even the tiniest say in things.”
Katsuki couldn’t stand to keep looking at him after that. Izuku’s face kept softening, getting more and more worried and remorseful and it was enraging. So he looked straight again, set his jaw and tried not to lose his will to continue.
“Like I said, it didn’t matter even if I had. But you think I should’ve said something? Bullshit. I didn’t need to say anything when you already knew all of it. Like me yelling at you would’ve helped anything. Or me making a damn fool of myself moping around and whining at you would have caused either of us any less pain.”
Izuku shifted even closer. His knee was pushing into the side of Katsuki’s thigh, hands hovering like he wanted to touch but wouldn’t dare scare him off. Katsuki merely narrowed his eyes on the worn wood of the table and tightened his fists.
“And yeah, that’s right. It was fucking painful. You can tell me all you want how hard it was for you to leave us all here, but you were the one that decided to be one of the biggest jackoffs in history and fucking ruin me before you left. You really don’t think we could’ve made it work? You didn’t even want to try?” He gave a quick tch before shaking his head again. “It’s unbelievable really. Pretending like I’m the one not talking to you and being unfair when you don’t even realize how much that hurt. I was an embarrassing, humiliating mess when you left. And if you don’t believe me, just ask any of the other people you left here to clean everything up.”
He took in a deep breath, hated how shaky it left his mouth. To combat it, he set his jaw and made sure the glare he had would intimidate almost anyone. Too bad Deku had never been just anyone.
“I didn’t think I’d miss you shitty Deku. I knew I would. I knew the second you told me that I was going to miss you so much I wanted to scream every day I woke up and you weren’t there. So don’t act like you were the one that got hurt the most here.”
With that, he was done. Everything out, breathing shallow, head and heart pounding away in the silence that followed. He hadn’t talked that much in months, if ever. But if Izuku wanted him to speak up, he better damn well be happy with what he just got.
“Kacchan…” There it was. That wet tone. That blubbery whisper of an overemotional fool.
Katsuki didn’t want to look up. He’d be met with shiny eyes and thick, gooey lashes, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.
“I never stopped missing you. How could I?” Katsuki laughed, shamefully broken and pitiful. “I love you, you fucking idiot. I’m so angry at you, but fuck if I don’t still love you.”
“Kacchan, please-”
Izuku brushed Katsuki’s arm with his fingers and the contact was enough to startle him into cutting his eyes over.
Sure enough, tear-stained, blotchy cheeks stared back at him as a grown ass man sniveled his way through another trembling version of that annoying nickname.
And Katsuki was right, he couldn’t resist. Not against rushing forward and nearly bashing their noses together to get his mouth on those soft lips.
It felt so natural. Even after all that time, all the distance, it still felt like the easiest thing in the world- still managed to send a throbbing pain into his chest, all the way down into his palms. His fingers twitched to reach up and touch. He wondered if that was too far- if this was all way too far over whatever line they’d set up between them.
It definitely was.
He’d crossed the line. Kicked through it like it’d been draw in the sand with a stick.
So he pulled away just as quickly as he’d leaned forward, cursed himself once there was even just a few centimeters between them. Amazingly, that was only as far as he managed to get before Izuku had a hand around the back of his neck to tug them together again.
Clearly touching wasn’t a concern.
With the next hard mash of their lips, Katsuki jolted into grabbing anything he could get. One hand on a cheek, the other on a thigh, holding it down to keep Izuku from getting away. Not again.
That time, he wasn’t the one end it- instead he was chasing after it only to be met with a forehead resting against his own.
“Hey,” Izuku began in an unnecessarily quiet whisper. “You wanna tell me more about how much you missed me?”
Katsuki let a genuine smile come out for the first time in too long as he peaked an eye open. Bright, gut-punching green shone back at him, slightly blurry from the closeness but familiar enough that Katsuki could see them in a dream.
Izuku poked at his thigh and grinned. “I still love you too, okay?”
Katsuki’s smile grew once there were hands on his cheeks, rubbing under his eyes, then smoothing back into his hair. He leaned forward, found his weight matched and held up by Izuku pushing into him.
“So, will you keep telling me?”
Katsuki nodded, letting out a soft laugh and pinching Izuku’s cheek. “For as long as you’ll let me.”
They weren’t perfect. Never were, never would be. But at least they were something. Something strong and together. And that was enough to keep them both holding on.