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It’s not a big party. Nothing particularly special, more like a pseudo class reunion if anything. New Year’s was just an excuse to get them all in the same space. It's been years since they’ve all been together.
Izuku doesn't even particularly want to be there, but then he hears that Katsuki is back from the States and Kirishima had managed to convince him to go, and suddenly, he's very determined to make an appearance himself. He's never been particularly good at holding back from things relating to Katsuki.
So he convinces Shouto to go with him. His boyfriend doesn't want to, but Izuku’s enthusiasm is hard to deny even on the most subdued of days. They both get dressed up, Shouto in his white turtleneck and navy pants, and Izuku in a crisp white dress shirt, black jeans and a black vest.
He’ll admit they look quite the picture. It’s not a surprise the media is so often in a frenzy about them. They're two of the top heroes, been dating since graduation after Izuku had gone seeking him out. They fit, oddly enough.
Shouto is sharp and cutting, but there's a deep well of care there, an undercurrent of rough affection that sometimes reminds him faintly of...
Anyway.
It’s not important.
They arrive at Momo's house arms linked, she'd dressed beautifully, flowing red gown and hair down, curling around her shoulders elegantly. Izuku is delighted to see her as always, trading cheek kisses and pleasantries as Shouto does the same. Barely thirty seconds into their conversation Izuku's eyes are already drifting – searching.
He hasn't seen Katsuki in going on four years now. He'd been off in America for the better part of it, Izuku choosing to stay in japan with Shouto and his mother. He doesn't regret it, but some part of him will always ache knowing he didn't get to personally document Katsuki’s growth there. His Baku Books had ended in their third year, and watching Katsuki through news snippets and magazine articles had filled him with a type of hollow ache he'd never looked too deeply at.
He shakes these thoughts away, him and Shouto moving deeper into the mansion and arriving in the main room.
Izuku spots him immediately, his radar not having dulled in all the years they spent apart. He’s dressed in a deep maroon dress shirt, a casual pair of black slacks making him look... God. Izuku doesn’t have words. He’s a little taller now, bigger definitely, muscles standing out starkly against the dark red fabric.
The moment Izuku walks into the room, he sees Katsuki’s shoulders go tense, and then, as if he can sense Izuku, he slowly looks up, making eye contact across the room.
Izuku feels too many conflicting emotions at once, dizzy with the force of something big and unmanageable expanding in his chest. Beside him, Shouto unwinds their arms, murmuring a soft, “I’ll go get us something to drink,” before moving off with Momo and leaving Izuku stuck to the spot.
It feels like the moment last forever, but only a few seconds must pass before Katsuki breaks the spell, turning back to Kirishima.
Izuku feels a little like he’s been struck. He doesn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe for Katsuki to come over to him? To drop what he was doing and greet him?
Honestly, what kind of stupid fantasy was he living in? Even before Katsuki had left, they’d never been on the friendliest terms, always grating up against each other’s nerves in an effort to surpass each other. To give each other a firm stepping stone to climb higher. They’d never been close the way Katsuki had been close to Kirishima, or Kaminari, or even Ashido.
Their friendship was rawer than that, open and bleeding and filled with yelling and curses and fierce, fiery grins that Izuku has never been able to get out of his memory.
A shoulder bumps his.
He turns, blinking absently as Shouto pushes a drink into his hand.
“Here, for you. You said hello to anyone yet?”
Izuku shakes his head, eyes now fixed on the drink in his hand. Well. If he’s going to get through this, it’s sure not going to be without help, and he takes a deep breath before knocking the whole thing back in two efficient gulps with his eyes squeezed shut.
When he wipes his mouth against the back of his hand and cracks his eyes open, Shouto’s giving him a funny look. Eyebrows raised and a bemused little smile overtaking his features.
“People usually sip those,” he comments, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. Izuku flushes, before promptly swiping the drink his boyfriend has and switching out the glasses, taking an exaggerated slurp and twirling away from him.
“I’ll sip this one then.”
He feels his neck prickle, like someone’s staring at him, but when he turns back to sneak a peek at Katsuki, he’s still in the same spot, chatting with Kirishima and the addition of Ashido.
“Deku!”
He spins, a bouncy head of brown hair careening into him. He raises his drink to avoid an accident, laughing brightly at the sight of his best friend.
“Already got a head start, huh?” He jokes, eyes taking in her bright red cheeks and slightly rumpled sundress.
“It’s a new year, might as well start off with a bang!” Her eyes twinkle, and Izuku thinks that maybe, this won’t be so hard to manage after all.
Izuku gets a little tipsy. He doesn’t get hammered like he wants to, no, Shouto makes sure of that. Limiting his drinks and plowing him with enough food and water that he’d have to risk a full on argument if he really wanted to get drunk.
He floats around, head pleasantly buzzing, trying and failing to get Katsuki to talk to him.
Well, if you count taking abortive steps in his direction before promptly chickening out and going to get another drink instead, trying.
He sees Katsuki watching him at least, small little glances while they move around each other, never talking in the same circle at once, never really close enough to overhear their conversations.
Once, Izuku’s heart almost beats out of his chest when Katsuki laughs, an uproariously loud thing that echoes around the entire room. He hasn’t heard that laugh in so long he feels like he’s going to overheat at the very sound of it, and his eyes hungrily search out the face that belongs to it.
Again, Izuku is struck by the sight of him. Teeth bared, head tilted back, long, lean line of his neck on full display as he laughs and laughs and laughs. He looks beautiful.
Izuku’s stomach flips, and it’s all he can do to turn away from it. It feels a little like he can’t breathe, and wonders if maybe it’s time to go tell Shouto he was right and beg to go home. The countdown is due to start in less than ten minutes or so, but Izuku is suddenly too exhausted to keep this up any longer.
His heart hurts. He wants to go home. He wants to curl up with his boyfriend and cry himself to sleep. This was all a terrible idea.
He’s just seriously thinking about going to find Shouto, when Katsuki catches his attention yet again. He breaks away from Kaminari, placing his drink down on a random table and moving smoothly across the room. Izuku wonders where he’s going. Bathroom, maybe?
He hates that he can’t stop looking at him. Hates that his eyes follow Katsuki wherever he goes. He wants to purge that part of himself, thought all this time apart would have at least dulled it.
But then. Right before Katsuki leaves the room he turns back, gaze pinning Izuku to the spot. He can’t breathe for a moment, and Izuku’s heart feels like it’s going into overdrive.
A small, private smile makes its way onto Katsuki’s face, and he turns and exits the room.
Izuku is following him before he can even think about it.
He rounds the corner just as he sees Katsuki disappear upstairs, Izuku just catching a glimpse of his blond hair as he ducks down a hallway.
Izuku trails him, heart beating rabbit quick, refusing to think as he sets his own glass down on the bannister and climbs.
He’s greeted to a long, dark stretch of hallway, illuminated only by a thin strip of light pouring out from one door, slightly ajar.
Izuku swallows.
He treads slowly towards the light, passing closed door after closed door, before finally, he’s standing before the only one left open for him.
He takes a deep breath, raising his hand to knock, two hesitant raps that echo in the quiet space. The music is muffled from up here, the party suddenly feeling like lifetimes away.
“K – Kacchan?”
“In here, Izuku.” Izuku isn’t sure why the sound of his name on Katsuki’s tongue sounds so wrong, but it does, and he makes a face as he tries to gather himself.
He opens the door, and he’s greeted to the sight of Katsuki sitting on the edge of a bed, suitcase spread out in one corner. The light is dim, casting a soft, yellow glow over the room. Every step Izuku takes inside, feels like he’s separating more and more from the real world. He pauses just inside the threshold, eyes tracking over Katsuki’s face as then darting back to the suitcase.
“You’re staying here?” He asks, because he’s not sure what else to say.
“Momo’s letting me stay until I get my apartment situation sorted.” He smiles, an inviting thing. “Wasn’t too keen on bunking with my mom.”
“Oh.” Izuku says, unsure of how to respond. It’s so painfully awkward for a moment, that he genuinely considers apologizing and leaving, but then...
“C’mere.” Katsuki says, holding out his hand. Izuku moves forward without thinking, drifting over to him and taking his hand as if it’s the only choice in the world available to him.
“Why’d you come up here?” Izuku keeps his voice soft. It feels like they’re in a different universe, isolated and alone. Katsuki looks up at him, staring at him with those bright red eyes that Izuku’s always found so easy to drown in.
They stare at each other, Katsuki’s thumb caressing the back of his hand, tracing over his scars and outlining the ridges of his knuckles. Izuku shudders, the gesture so intimate it makes his heart squeeze. But it’s nothing in comparison to the way his pulse thuds out of control when Katsuki says, “Wanted to see if you’d follow.”
Izuku feels, very suddenly, like there’s a bird trapped in his chest, feathers clogging his throat as he stares and stares and stares. He doesn’t know what that means, but Katsuki doesn’t look like he’s expecting a response to that one, so he goes on.
“I waited for you, you know,” he murmurs, squeezing Izuku’s hand as a weak smile breaks across his face. “I thought you’d follow me to America. You always followed me.”
This shakes Izuku out of his vocal binding, a stuttered “W – what?” breaking free as he feels the birds fly down to his stomach. He feels lightheaded, woozy as if he’s in a dream. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
“But then I end up seeing you and Todoroki spread out on the front page of a tabloid instead. Couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe you’d settle.”
“You left me!” Izuku bursts out, grief and years old hurt spilling out in the way he clutches at Katsuki’s hand, too tight to be anything but painful. “You left without even saying goodbye. I had to find out from your mom. You know – Do you know how that felt? God, I thought, I mean, I knew you still kind of hated me, but I didn’t think you’d ever kick me out of your life like that!”
“Izuku.”
“Don’t call me that!” He knows he should stop yelling, but he’s been ignoring this for so long, it’s like a rapid river when it all comes pouring out of him. “You flew to another continent without so much as a heads up. How was I supposed to take that?”
Katsuki’s looking at him like something’s vaguely amusing, but then his expression twists into one of apology. “Sorry. Didn’t know how to ask you to come with me. Wasn’t always the best communicator was I, Deku?”
The name sinks into the very roots of him, like water for a parched flower. Izuku’s expression blooms without him meaning for it to, and he leans in, body aching for them to be closer.
“No, you’re shitty at it. Downright terrible. Can’t believe you just thought I’d drop everything and chase after you without anything to go on.”
“I know. I’m pretty horrible.”
“The worst.” But there’s little more than affection in his tone now, and his grip on Katsuki’s hand loosens, until he’s mirroring Katsuki’s ministrations and tracing the back of his hand in turn.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Izuku’s expression sours slightly, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“I’m not exactly untethered right now.”
“Break up with him.” Katsuki says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Izuku can’t help but let out an incredulous little laugh.
“I can’t just leave him, Kacchan. I love him.”
“More than me?”
“Don’t ask me that.”
“Because I know you don’t. You’d never love anyone more than you love me.” Katsuki says, like there isn’t a universe out there in which Izuku wouldn’t always put him first. It makes him feel... God, he doesn’t know how to feel. Tries to pretend that there isn’t giddiness bubbling up inside of him.
“Awfully cocky for someone I haven’t seen in over three years.” He shoots back, letting Katsuki pull him just a little but closer, until Izuku stands in the niche of his legs.
“I mean...” A smirk twists his face, and he gestures to Izuku pressed all up against his front. “You’re here with me now, aren’t you?”
Izuku flushes, has nothing to say in response. He feels guilt prickle at the edge of his consciousness, but it’s hard to focus on when Katsuki’s looking up at him like he’s the only thing that matters, the only thing in the world.
“I –”
“I know. You’ve always been a goody two-shoes. But it’s New Years. I came back for you. I’d always come back for you.”
“Kacchan...”
Izuku feels his skin prickle as he hears the chanting start. It’s distant, feels like they’ve been ripped out of the timeline and exist in their own isolated bubble. Katsuki’s other hand goes up, resting against the curve of his jaw before cupping his face, expression indulgent and affectionate.
Ten
“I’m sorry. Okay?” Katsuki starts.
Nine
“It was a shitty move.”
Eight
“I wasn’t thinking.”
Seven
“But I’m thinking now.”
Six
“I want you.”
Five.
Izuku feels his resolve waver, mouth opening before he can stop it. “But Shouto...” He butts in, trying to remind himself of why he can’t.
Four.
“Forget him.”
Three.
Izuku’s brow furrows, expression crumbling. “Kacchan...” Katsuki watches the way his lips shape his name.
Two
“I’m serious.”
One
“I love you.”
Everything turns to static as Katsuki pulls his face down the rest of the way, cheers from their friends fading into nothing as their lips meet.
Izuku’s resistance cracks, sinking one knee onto the bed to slot their lips together at a better angle. The hand on his face is gentle, kind, touches he’s never experienced from Katsuki before. They invite him in, break through his defences, leave him wanting; wanting to know this man, this new version of his childhood friend, the one who caresses his cheek and tells him he loves him. The one who apologizes for his past mistakes. The one who wants him.
Katsuki’s other hand untangles from his own, moving to rest against the small of his back and encourage him lower. Izuku drops down into his lap without a fuss, straddling him as he gets both arms around him, one in Katsuki’s hair and the other clutching at his shoulder.
If Izuku thought he felt overwhelmed before, it’s nothing to the sheer amount of emotion he’s experiencing now. He’s never felt like this before, eyes welling up with tears as they slip shut, giving himself up to Katsuki like he couldn’t have done anything else if he’d tried.
There’s a tongue there, licking at the seam of his lips, and Izuku is helpless to open for him, granting Katsuki entrance into every part of him. Izuku’s never been able to close himself off from him, and there wasn’t much point in starting now.
Katsuki’s kiss turns from soft to passionate the moment their tongues twine. Izuku can only grasp at him as Katsuki devours him, hand sinking from his lower back to grab at his ass, grip just the right shade of tight to have him rocking down, pressing their erections together as Izuku moans into his mouth.
Katsuki kisses him like he needs to taste all of him, all at once. Like he needs to make up for their lost time, delving deep into Izuku’s mouth like it’s a pathway to his soul.
They kiss with a type of reckless elation that Izuku hasn’t felt since he was a teenager, ideals bright and passions burning for his future, for their future. Two twin stars, always building each other up.
Izuku grinds down, a loud whimper clawing its way out from his throat. Katsuki swallows his noises, kisses him until he can’t think, just a shivering mess of sensation as Katsuki moves under him, other hand sliding up the back of his dress shirt and wrinkling his vest.
The feeling of skin on skin is almost too much for him to bear, and he feels like he’s going to go out of his mind if Katsuki doesn’t stop touching him everywhere, like he’s trying to hold every inch of him.
He’s so caught up in Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki, that he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Doesn’t hear Shouto’s voice softly calling his name. Doesn’t notice Katsuki slit one sharp, red eye open to look at the door Izuku hadn’t bothered to shut properly.
“Izuku? I’ve been looking –”
Izuku’s thoughts snap back in a rush. He jerks back, dislodging their mouths and spinning around, horror writ in every line of his face as his eyes land on his boyfriend, paused in the doorway, one hand on the knob and the other hovering awkwardly in front of him.
“Shouto! This isn’t –” Katsuki’s hand on his ass squeezes for all its worth, and a moan wrenches free before he can think to slap a hand over his mouth, nausea rolling up in one great big wave.
“Oh.” Shouto says, face going carefully blank at the sight of them. “Bakugo. What an unpleasant surprise.”
Izuku shoves away from Katsuki, scrambling off his lap and flushing with mortification, guilt and shame and embarrassment crashing into him like trains.
“Shouto, I –”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.” He cuts him off, gaze flickering behind him to land on Katsuki before a rueful smile takes over his face.
He stares at him for so long that Izuku wants to turn and see what kind of expression Katsuki is making in return. But he doesn’t dare to turn his back on Shouto right now.
“Remember last year? When I proposed to you and you turned me down?” Shouto says, out of nowhere. Izuku flinches, unable to meet his gaze. “Do you?” He goes on. “Izuku I think now, especially, you could at least do me the courtesy of looking me in the eyes.”
Izuku takes a deep breath, forces his head up and finds Shouto smiling absently at him. The expression confuses him deeply, looks so out of place for the situation it just sets trepidation off in his belly. He wants so badly to go over to him, wrap him up in a hug and apologize, tell him he wasn’t thinking, but Shouto has never been responsive to tactile comfort, and Izuku knows that right now, his touch would be highly unwelcome. Shouto rarely responded well to contact when he was in a mood.
“I couldn’t understand why, at the time. It hurt, terribly, and we didn’t talk for a week afterwards. But then, I was fine?”
Izuku does remember it. Vividly in fact. He’d be so distressed that he’d irreparably damaged their relationship. Shouto wouldn’t even look at him. Then, one day, Izuku guesses now it must have been after a week, Shouto had come home, dropped a kiss on the crown of his forehead, and asked what they were having for dinner.
“Why are you talking about this?” Izuku forces out, not wanting to hear about this, about one of his greatest shames. When he’d been unable to commit to the best thing in his life. Commit to the only person who’d stuck by him.
Shouto looks at him, and Izuku sees love there, profound and all encompassing, and Shouto says, “Because this was inevitable.”
Izuku stumbles back a step, confusion tightening his features. “Shouto, please, I don’t understand.”
“I found your notebooks.”
“What – ”
“Specifically, the ones about Bakugo.” Shouto says, gaze trailing behind him to look at the man himself.
Izuku gapes at him, doesn’t understand before it all clicks into place. The little notes he’d scribbled in the margins, stupid little comments. Childish little fantasies.
An “I think I love him,” here.
A ‘maybe he’s mean to me because he’s a stupid kid and he likes me. Maybe this is him just pulling my pigtails,’ there.
Dozens of stupid daydreams, idle thoughts about Katsuki. Always about Katsuki.
“You’ve been in love with him longer than you’ve known me. I knew I had no chance, after that.” Shouto goes on, when Izuku says nothing, just feels a sudden and immense sense of loss overtake him. He doesn’t have anything to say. There’s no denial, nothing he could say that could take this back, any of it back.
“It’s fine,” Shouto says after a stretch. “I was coming to collect you so we could go home, but I think you should stay here tonight.”
“Shouto I’m not going to –”
“Not here in this very room, I mean, unless you want to. You’re an adult, you clearly make your own choices.” His voice is razor sharp, and Izuku flinches back another step.
“Shouto, I’m sorry.”
For one, horrible moment, Shouto’s expression cracks, and Izuku is privy to a swirling miasma of grief and pain, but then it shutters, and he’s left with a carefully controlled blank slate. He hates that look, hates it even more because he knows he’s the one that put it there.
“I know. I still think I’d rather I went home alone tonight.” He says, with a level of finality that Izuku knows he has no hope winning against. Shouto grants him one last, deliberately blank look before turning and leaving the room.
Shouto shuts the door behind him. It’s worse, somehow, than if he’d just walked away. At least there still would have been a pathway open between them. The snick of the door shutting seems final, somehow.
Izuku flinches when a hand rests on his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard Katsuki rise. Izuku’s expecting him to say something. To crow about his victory, to laugh about it all working out for him.
Instead, he folds Izuku into the crook of his neck, silent as he wraps his arms around him and rests his cheek on Izuku’s head. It’s the last thing that pushes Izuku over the edge and he’s crying before he even feels the tears well up in his eyes.
Katsuki strokes his hair, stands with him in the center of the room, music faintly drifting from downstairs and Izuku cries and cries and cries.