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    Summary

    “I- I need to know. What this is, what we are."

    Instead of replying Kacchan leans back and stretches his arms out on the sofa again, slowly looking him up and down. From his ruffled hair down to the orange hoodie, the black shorts and the one sock trying to valiantly hang onto Izuku’s left foot. And then he tilts his head slightly and asks, “you don’t already know? I thought you would have figured it out way sooner with that brain of yours.”

    Izuku reaches out and pulls Kacchan’s right hand into his own. He doesn’t want Kacchan to not touch him, not when they are alone, not ever again. “I don’t know,” he says to Kacchan’s fingers, pulling on them one by one.

    Series
    Language:
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