Work Text:
Izuku Midoriya was crying.
Izuku always cried. Since Katsuki Bakugou could remember, those big green eyes would usually well up with tears once, usually twice, a day. It didn’t take much for Izuku’s emotions to betray him.
If Izuku was sad, a couple tears would begin to gather at the corners of his eyes then immediately fall down his freckled cheeks in steady streams. Like the one time when they were 6 years old, Katsuki was so sick he stayed in bed for a week with a high fever and Izuku stayed by his side crying nonstop. Afraid his Kacchan would never recover and play again! Katsuki could still remember how hard he cried when he got better.
If Izuku was mad, the tears would cling to his eyelashes daring to fall. He would always hastily rub them away, but a few would escape regardless. Like the one time Izuku was picking flowers for his mom when a bigger kid from the other side of the village saw him and started calling him all kinds of names. Katsuki had immediately defended him and got pushed around for it. He still remembered how Izuku stood angrily by his side, not because he was being picked on, but because Katsuki had been hurt.
“Don’t touch Kacchan!”
They both went home hand in hand with a couple new bruises that day (with Izuku crying the whole time, of course).
If Izuku was excited, a handful of teardrops could be seen twinkling at the corners of his eyes as he jumped up and down, gasping or clapping his hands. Like the times Katsuki would tell him stories he overheard about magic, swordfights, and monsters from the people who visited his mother, the Village Leader.
If Izuku was devastated, his sobs could be heard from the depths of the Earth. His tears would burst forth like a dam breaking from the pressure. Like the time when Izuku was 12 years old and his mother was found by the water. There were rumors of a suspicious man with a bird mask seen around the village that night, but no one could find him the next day. Katsuki held Izuku that night (and many consecutive nights) as his sobs chipped away at something deep in Katsuki’s heart. That night Katsuki vowed to find that man and kill him for taking away such a warm person and inflicting this pain on his best friend.
If Izuku was happy, the tears would have to fight to crawl down his raised cheeks while he smiled so wide he put the sun to shame. Like the time Katsuki surprised him with a necklace made of seaglass and teeth from his first successful hunt as the leader of his tribe. It was the first time in a long time Katsuki had seen Izuku so happy. Izuku had smiled at him in a way that made his heart jump out of his chest and the air escape his lungs. Katsuki remembered how soft Izuku’s skin was as he fastened the necklace around his neck. He also remembered how honored and nervous he felt when Izuku took his mother’s pendant from around his own neck and placed it on Katsuki’s. They stared at each other, hardly daring to breathe as they felt how significant this exchange was, but still unaware of its true meaning. The spell was broken as Kirishima, Katsuki’s hunting partner, and the rest of the hunting party came over to drag them to celebrate the hunt’s (and Katsuki’s) success.
Katsuki knew Izuku was a crybaby but he didn’t care when those tears told him everything he needed to know about how the green haired boy was feeling. Those tears were his guide to Izuku’s mind since he could remember. And right now he knew the tears soaking his hands were from elation as he held Izuku’s cheeks and kissed the life out of him in front of the whole village as they finally vowed themselves to each other. His best friend, his greatest supporter, the love of his life.
And if Katsuki Bakugou was crying too, well, no one could really blame him.