Chapter Text
Yawning, Katsuki felt his jaws click as he stretched across Izuku's lap. One of the pitfalls of his newfound form was that heat + darkness = sleep, and no matter how hard he fought it, his dumb kitten brain would override his smart human one and his ass was out like a light in minutes. Unfortunately, this equation had a new factor now: loud noises. And that rat bastard was like algebra: it made no sense to incorporate it, but some asshole decided Katsuki had to be more inconvenienced than he already was.
Fuckin' bullshit .
It also didn't help that Izuku was being himself. For the past thirty seconds, the nerd had been fidgeting in his seat, clearly wanting to tap his foot on the ground but couldn't because of the cat in his lap, and Katsuki was not about to reinforce that behavior. What was a young man in his circumstances to do? Obviously, modern warfare. Katsuki tapped a paw on Izuku's hand insistently until he had the nerd's attention. Glaring, he tried to sneer at Deku's dumb face until he got the message.
Pet me if you're going to be hyperactive, at least ONE of us will be comfortable!
Totally diplomatic arguing there. Aizawa would be pleased with his growth, Katsuki mused, absentmindedly circling Izuku's lap again in pursuit of a comfortable spot. Somehow it wasn't quite the same as when he first laid down, but he couldn't figure out the difference. Oh, well. Maybe his feline brain would cut him some slack and let him actually relax without mindlessly repeating the laps around Izuku’s lap.
That hope was dashed as a pair of scarred, mangled hands scooped him up, depositing the cranky feline on a warm chest. Deku’s posture was godawful, legs extended like ramrods, arms crossed lazily over his stomach, and his spine defying any doctor’s recommended ergonomic position. Still, the warmth was nice.
And Katsuki could almost focus on napping now, so long as he didn’t think about its admittedly muscular source. As if to defy his plans, Katsuki found himself making muffins on Izuku’s chest, tiny claws pricking through the fabric with each press, and catching as they retracted. Something about the action was inherently soothing.
Logically, Katsuki knew this was what kittens did when they wanted milk from their mothers, but a part of his brain was kicking and screaming in denial. Obviously his rival wasn’t some maternal figure, but he was a brilliant, albeit dorky, athletic man, awkwardly coming into his own as a budding hero. None of that screamed parental magnetism. So why did Katsuki feel so safe?
Scent , his mind provided.
He smells like home.
The revelation shouldn’t have been anything new to Katsuki. He and Izuku had plenty of playdates that resulted in messes, the two of them wrapped in animal towels as their clothes went through a wash cycle in Inko’s mudroom. It was only natural that the subtle detergent scent and combination would transport Katsuki to a safer time, when the world wasn’t ruled by villains who kidnapped teenagers, when every threat could be taken out by All Might, or you and your best friend in your pajamas.
Biting down, Katsuki took part of Izuku’s shirt into his mouth and chewed on it as he thought. This whole transformation wasn’t going to be permanent, and he’d been avoiding thinking about the repercussions of his actions most of the time. Finally settling, the golden furball feigned sleep and pondered.
What happens after this?
Will we be friends again?
Would I want that?
Eijirou had been a brilliant help throughout their first and second years, the stubborn bastard taking every hit Katsuki threw at him, persistently questioning him as they dealt with his behavioral issues. Sure, each punch grew harder and faster, but as the emotions grew his aim began to weaken. Eventually, it boiled over and Ei had to help him pick up the pieces, Katsuki’s formerly flawless hands getting scraped up, not unlike his former friend’s.
The parallels were obvious to everyone with eyes, but the perceptive powers came from another source…