Work Text:
I'm in my bed
And you're not here
And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands
Forget what I said
It's not what I meant
And I can't take it back
I can't unpack the baggage you left.
The first time happens on a normal school day. Ever since their second year, Izuku and Katsuki had fallen into a habit of sparring with each other every week. Katsuki had grown to acknowledge Izuku’s strength and Izuku had learnt to work around Katsuki’s explosiveness – it seemed unbelievable at the start, but they actually made a good duo.
Not that either of them ever said it. But they kept coming back to each other for fighting sessions, and that was telling enough.
It usually took place after school, where they made arrangements with Aizawa for an assigned fighting space (having dutifully learnt from their first fight). It was good practice too, because they had this way of pushing each other to be better than they already were or, were striving to be. It was a blurred line of admiration and jealousy that both of them barely ever talked about.
This time, Katsuki had won, making his score for that semester a close 14-13. He was standing above Izuku, both legs planted on either sides of Izuku’s waist as he stared down at him. His palm still readied, held out and brimming with the promise of an ignition if Izuku decided he wasn’t quite finished yet. Heavy breaths filled the silence, and Katsuki watched, trying to regain feeling into his lungs as Izuku coughed, body still receiving the impact at being flipped, coupled with the force of Katsuki’s quirk.
He brought a hand up to wipe at the blood smearing his bottom lip, glaring defiantly up at Katsuki. It makes a smirk curl at his lips as he steps back, giving Izuku the space to sit up. This shouldn’t be attractive to Katsuki, but it is. There’s something that makes Katsuki avert his gaze when Izuku narrows his eyes at him, chest rising up and down with a sheen of sweat glistening across his neck – something hot simmers beneath his skin, completely unrelated to the fight, but Katsuki ignores it.
Izuku struggles to get up, wincing as he tries to push himself up. Without a word, Katsuki moves over, and it happens all so seamlessly. His hand fits into Izukus’ a little too easily, like as if they’d done this a thousand times, and he’s hauling him up even as he snaps, “Don’t just fucking lay there.” He manages to earn a weak laugh from the green-haired, who’s glare fades away into something softer. Katsuki scoffs.
“Are you going straight back?” Izuku asks him as they grab their stuff from the lockers. Katsuki tries not to relish in the small satisfaction he gets when Izuku has to tiptoe just a little bit to reach his stuff. “Yeah. It’s getting late.”
“Oh, so am I,” Izuku tells him, smile curling at his lips as he faces Katsuki. “Let’s walk back together.”
They didn’t always walk back together. Sometimes, one of them would stay to continue practicing, other times one of them would choose to wash up using the showers nearby instead of the ones at the dorm. In any case, this was one of the rare moments in which Katsuki actually got one-on-one time with Izuku that didn’t involve some sort of training or fighting.
It was late. The skies had turned shades of purple and blue around the orange of the sun that was glaring through the clouds, setting slowly. There were stray students here and there, walking back from classes, labs, all yawning and mostly silent. It was soothing. Katsuki liked the sun at this time – it was comfortingly warm without being searing hot. He didn’t mind the rays of sunshine that fell across his face as he walked back, Izuku beside him.
“Hey, nerd,” Katsuki speaks up after awhile, nudging Izuku in the arm as they walked. The other let out a questioning hum, glancing at Katsuki as he did so. “Your new move today… that kick, right?”
“Oh!” Izuku seems to pipe up, “You noticed?”
“I’m not fucking blind,” Katsuki sneers. He rolls his eyes when Izuku gives him a slight pout, and gives him further advise on how he thought Izuku could improve the kick. They talk about each other’s techniques for a good 10 minutes. When Izuku made a comment about Katsuki’s moves, he’d snap back, which only made Izuku laugh. He kept Izuku’s words in mind, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud.
“You didn’t answer my text, by the way,” Izuku informs him after their previous conversation has dwindled.
“Hah?” Katsuki barks, “You mean the stupid one about the Math homework?”
“It wasn’t stupid! I asked you for help and you didn’t even respond,” Izuku says, accusingly.
“You should know how to do that shit!” Katsuki says, folding his arms and looking away. That must’ve given him away, because Izuku’s response takes a few seconds. When he speaks, there’s a little giggle in his voice. When Katsuki looks at him, he sees Izuku very purposefully try to bite back a smile.
“What?!”
“You didn’t know how to do the question either…”
Katsuki narrows his eyes at the other, ignoring the slight flush on his cheeks at the embarrassment. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who d’you think you’re talking to?”
Izuku shrugs casually, grinning now. “You could’ve just said so, Kacchan.”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Katsuki makes a move to grab the other, but Izuku dodges him, catching his hand easily. He scowls, snatching his hand away. “What’s your problem, anyways? – Always fucking texting me about homework lately. S’that some lame excuse for wanting to talk to me?”
This time, Izuku reddens. He gapes at Katsuki for a good second before vehemently protesting. “That’s not true! You said you were good at Math so I thought-”
“Fuck you, Deku, I’m good at everything!”
“Then why can’t I text-” Before Izuku can finish, Katsuki notices a car whizzing past on the road beside them. The pavement itself was narrow, and Izuku was walking dangerously, teetering half on the road and on the pavement. It takes Katsuki only a second to realise that the speeding car was about to collide right into Izuku when –
“Oi, Deku, watch out!”
Before Izuku can react, Katsuki finds himself rushing forward, grabbing at Izuku’s arm and yanking him back with so much force that the two of them tumble to the ground. The top of Izuku’s head hits Katsuki’s chin, and the pain vibrates up his skull as his back hits the ground, Izuku landing ungracefully ontop of him.
Katsuki’s craning his neck, head still spinning as he shouts at the person in the car. “If you can’t fucking drive stay off the fucking road, you-” Katsuki’s about to continue, ready to raise a finger to the retreating car, before he’s interrupted by a low, soft groan from on top of him.
Whipping his chin down too fast, Katsuki hits Izuku’s head again. The both of them groan in tandem, Katsuki’s head hitting the floor below him as he recoils from the pain. He was still too disoriented to realise the warmth of Izuku’s body, pressed all around him as the green-haired stays sprawled on top of him. When he comes to his senses, he realises Izuku’s talking.
“Ah, Kacchan – your, your hand-”
Katsuki jolts, pulling his hand away like he’s been burnt. He had a palm placed firmly over Izuku’s nape, as if shielding him, almost protective. It must’ve been instinctive – Katsuki didn’t recall even moving as they fell. “Shit, Deku, you’re so heavy. Get off, fuck.” His ribs were aching uncomfortably in his chest, but it was nothing compared to how hard his heart was racing at the sheer proximity. When Izuku moved, he could feel the slight brush of Izuku’s lips on his neck. He had to swallow a moan as Izuku shifted around.
Instead of getting up properly (like Katsuki was hoping, he thinks), Izuku chooses instead to prop himself up on his palms, knees nestled between Katsuki’s thighs as he tries to regain composure. “Thanks for helping me just-” Izuku blinks his eyes open, then seems to freeze. Katsuki hopes the flush on his cheeks doesn’t show, and instead takes to frowning at Izuku, eyes narrowed.
They’re way too close. Izuku’s a breath away from fucking kissing him, goddamnit, and Katsuki’s torn between closing the gap between them and tossing Izuku halfway across the world away from him. Izuku managed to make him feel that way – simultaneously feeling like he could never be close enough and yet also feeling like he could drown if Izuku got too close. His tongue runs over his chapped lips, and he catches the way Izuku’s gaze flickers downwards to catch the movement.
“Deku,” He says. His voice sounds too raspy in his throat, and Izuku jerks at the sound of his name. “Huh, yes?” He stutters back.
Katsuki’s mind is running a thousand miles per second. Should he say it? Fuck, say what? Should he kiss him? It seemed so right, the moment seemed so right. He feels his blood rush in his ears, the pounding of his pulse deafening. He reaches up, fingers gripping at Izuku’s chin. The green-haired doesn’t protest or even make a move, merely stares back at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.
Then, Katsuki says, “You taking your time or what? Get off.”
Izuku exhales a shaky breath, before he’s murmuring incoherent words of agreement and scrambling to sit up. Katsuki grits his teeth so hard it hurts. He wasn’t sure why he said that, or why he backed out. He wasn’t sure about anything right now, and it made his chest flare with unwarranted anger as Izuku scooted away from him.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise,” Izuku says, clearer this time. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet as he looks over at Katsuki. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fucking fine,” Katsuki grimaces. He tosses a dirty look at Izuku. “You should’ve seen that coming.”
“I didn’t see it, okay!” Izuku’s quick to defend, frowning at Katsuki. He looks downward for a moment. Katsuki catches the concern on his face as he seems to spot something.
“You’re bruised, Kacchan,” Izuku says, reaching over to grab at Katsuki’s arm without warning. “Hey-” Katsuki hisses, tries to pull back but Izuku keeps his grip on him. “Come back to my room. I’ll treat it for you,” Izuku tells him, eyes innocent as he looks up at Katsuki, fingers grazing over the purpling bruise on Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki flinches, and it’s not from the pain. Izuku’s eyes are so expectant, hopeful, and Katsuki pauses for a moment, feeling himself give in. But he can’t.
He was going to end up doing something stupid, like kiss Izuku or fucking confess like some middle-schooler or something. No way, no fucking way. “I can do it myself,” Katsuki says curtly, harsher than he’d have liked. He thinks he sees a small flash of disappointment on Izuku’s face, but it disappears quickly when Izuku nods, ducking his face to hide his expression.
“The sun’s down. We should get back.”
The earlier setting sun had retreated completely into the horizon, the dark engulfing the two of them as they sat on the pavement. There was almost no one around now, and Katsuki could hear the slight rustle of leaves as a soft breeze blew past. Even the cold starts seeping in and Katsuki starts to shiver under his jacket.
The two of them get onto their feet, slinging on their bags and starting a slow walk back to the dorm. It must be the cold that’s making Izuku gravitate towards Katsuki – their shoulders kept bumping into each other, and Izuku kept subconsciously leaning in, chasing the fleeting warmth of Katsuki’s side.
Katsuki grimaces at what he’s about to do. He tells himself it’s just this once, before he’s stopping in his tracks and taking off his jacket. Izuku takes a few more steps before he realises Katsuki wasn’t walking alongside him. “Kacchan, wha-”
“Here, take it.” Katsuki shoves the jacket into Izuku’s arms, who yelps as he tries not to let the fabric drop. “What – Kacchan, don’t you-”
“Just take it. I’m good with the cold, anyways,” Katsuki lies, trying to sound dismissive as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Izuku’s brows furrow. Of course Izuku would know he was lying. They’d known each other for almost their whole lives.
Izuku parts his lips as if to say something, looking at Katsuki with confused eyes. Then, with a sudden resignation, he shrugs the jacket on. “Ah, okay. Thank you.”
Soon enough, the large, red sign of ‘2-A’ greets them. Katsuki ends up walking Izuku to his room door, which is the first time it’s ever happened. When Izuku stops outside his door to turn around and look at him, Katsuki can’t help but feel slightly unnerved at the gesture of it all. Izuku hands him the jacket with a thanks, and looks at him with those same eyes. Like he’s waiting for something to happen. Katsuki doesn’t know what.
“Same time next week?” He blurts instead.
Izuku hesitates for a moment, watching Katsuki with careful eyes. “Hey, fucking spit it out, Deku. I don’t have all day,” Katsuki says fiercely, cocking an eyebrow. He’s not so much mad as he is nervous, clutching at the jacket a little tighter.
“Yeah, it’s nothing.” Izuku shakes his head, eyes hidden beneath the mess of his green hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kacchan.”
Katsuki can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong when Izuku steps into his room and shuts the door behind him.
---
The second time it happens is during their second-year U.A prom night.
Being a prestigious school, U.A. was loaded. They had finances for even the most trivial of events, and it was no wonder that their prom turned out extravagant. The tables were adorned with rare-coloured flowers, the lights bathing the banquet hall in a soft, purple glow. There was music flowing out the speakers, and there was the smell of freshly-cooked food wafting from the buffet table. There was even a chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, it’s silver and gold shining and twinkling. It had the girls gushing as they stepped in, their long gowns sweeping the floor and their heels clacking on polished marble. Kirishima had whistled upon entering, tugging at his blazer and sending Katsuki a wink.
“Seems like a pretty good night for a dance, isn’t it?”
Katsuki scans the area for a second. Then, “You don’t have the balls,” Katsuki sneers.
“Yes I do! I’m going to ask Mina for a dance today,” Kirishima tells him, conviction set in his eyes. Then, with a shyer, quieter voice, he whispers, “I practiced in front of the mirror. I think it’ll go well.”
Just at that moment, the two of them startle as Kaminari, Sero and Mina invade their space. Kaminari flings an arm around Katsuki, grinning, “You’re dressed up nice today!”, to which Katsuki pushes a palm in Kaminari’s face and mildly tells him to fuck off. Beside him, Katsuki manages to catch sight of Kirishima going as red as his hair when Mina compliments his bowtie. Katsuki tries not to gag.
“Looks like Kirishima might actually stand a chance,” Kaminari, unbothered by Katsuki’s attempts at pushing him away, says quietly. He’s looking a little too blatantly at the two interact, all awkward giggles and blushing cheeks. “She’s liked him since the fucking stone ages. Only an idiot wouldn’t notice,” Katsuki says.
“Hey! Love isn’t that simple,” Kaminari punches him in the shoulder, then frowns. “D’you think Jirou would accept a dance with me?”
“Fuck if I know!”
“I’m just saying! I wanted to wait till graduation to say something but I’m kind of scared that if I wait too long, she’ll move on,” Kaminari tells him, rambling his mouth off as usual. Unfortunately, he’d chosen Katsuki to be his unwilling, listening ear this time. It was usually Kirishima, but the damned bastard was too busy trying to get a girlfriend.
“That makes no sense,” Katsuki hisses despite himself, “If she genuinely liked you, she’d wait.”
“I know that,” Kaminari says, hushing Katsuki and looking around quickly to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Then, much to Katsuki’s displeasure, he leaned in closer to talk, “But I mean – if I thought I didn’t stand a chance with someone, I’d try to move on at some point. All the pining hurts and shit, you know…emotions.”
Katsuki stares, and Kaminari quickly corrects himself. “Well! Maybe you don’t know. But you get what I’m saying.” Not that his friends would ever realise, but Katsuki actually did know. “Shut up and just make your move. You don’t got shit to lose anyways,” Katsuki tells him. It’s sound advice – not that Katsuki himself would follow it.
They eventually make their way to an assigned table. Katsuki notices that Izuku and his group of friends were only seated diagonally across from them. He can’t really catch a good glimpse of him, not with Kirishima’s gelled up hair blocking his view but it didn’t matter. Katsuki pretends not to care as they get their foods and wait for the prom to officially start.
It’s just as lame as Katsuki predicted, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have some fun. Itsuka Kendo, a pretty girl from 2-B ends up winning Prom Queen with Todoroki as the Prom King, voted by people in their level. Katsuki wasn’t surprised, and even snorted into his drink as he watches Todoroki get up on the stage almost uncomfortably. Kendo makes a heartfelt speech that Katsuki barely listened to while Todoroki uttered out a mere, “Thanks.” into the microphone before stepping away.
During one group performance (they were a band apparently, performing their own song), Kaminari leans over and nudges Katsuki. “Hey, so you planning on asking anyone out today?”
Katsuki kicks him under the table, to which Kaminari yelps and reaches down to tenderly cradle his shin. “Hey! I’m just asking. Isn’t prom the day where people make moves and shit?”
“Does it look like I want to fucking go out with anyone?”
Kaminari sniffles, shaking his head minutely. “No, but how would I know? You’re such a man of secrets, Bakugo.” Katsuki almost laughs at that. He wasn’t a ‘man of secrets’ per say, but he liked keeping his life private. He didn’t see the need to shout it out from the rooftops or blare it to anyone who’d look his way. He didn’t see the sense in it.
Katsuki ends up spending more time bickering with Kaminari and exchanging remarks with Sero than he does hanging out with Kirishima, who successfully managed to engage Mina in a conversation. The two of them were so smitten, it was a little bit gross. But really only because Kirishima was his friend.
It’s when the dancing starts that Katsuki realises he needs a break. The lights were flashing a little too brightly, and everyone in his table had gotten up to move over to the dance floor. Katsuki decided he did not want a part of it, even though Sero had tried to convince him. He manoeuvres his way out of the crowd, feeling stuffy and irritable. There was a toilet at the end of the halls, and he decided he could camp out there for a little while without anyone noticing.
Reaching the door, Katsuki’s relieved when he realises it isn’t locked. Thanks to the highly-rated hotel their school had decided on, the bathroom ended up being clean and smelling of too many opened, rose-scented air fresheners. As he steps inside, shutting the door discreetly behind him, he catches sight of a figure moving.
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me,” Katsuki whispers when he sees a tuft of green hair peek out from beside the sink. His hand pauses on the doorknob for a minute, and he watches as the person beside the sink jumps in place. Katsuki sees Izuku lean forward from where he’s seated to greet him with a sheepish smile. Then, Izuku’s getting up, embarrassed flush creeping up his neck as he adjusts his tie. Katsuki feels his breath hitch in his throat for a minute – Izuku looked, well, good. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with a neat green-tie that complemented his eyes. The hours of training had paid off in a different way today. His chest filled out the white button-up undershirt below his blazer, every shift and strain of his muscles catching Katsuki’s eyes as he moved. The hell was the idiot doing seated on a toilet floor?
“I’m sorry, I thought the door was locked. I – uh, you can use the bathroom, I’ll head out,” Izuku cleared his throat, already making a move.
“Wait,” Katsuki says, catching Izuku’s arm as he tries to manoeuvre past him. “What were you doing out here?”
“Um,” Izuku swallows. “I just needed a bit of a breather.” He stops for a second, looking at Katsuki’s hand on his before back up at Katsuki’s face. “Is it weird? I guess it is. I’m just not very good at stuff like this, and well-”
“It’s not fucking weird,” Katsuki cuts in. He lets go of Izuku’s hand and folds his arms. “I came here for the same reason, idiot.”
There’s a slight pause as Izuku registers his words. Then, “We can stay here together if you want,” Katsuki says without thinking, and feels the air get punched out of his lungs when Izuku’s expression shifts at his words.
“What – what would people think if we exited the bathroom together, Kacchan?!” Izuku exclaims, blinking rapidly at Katsuki, his whole face fifty different shades of red.
Katsuki’s heart skips a small beat. “Are you fucking stupid? We can just leave one at a time!” He refutes back immediately, raising his volume to match Izukus’.
“Ah, Kacchan, are you asking me to stay here with you?” Izuku asks, head tilted innocently and utterly unabashed, like as if this was normal. Katsuki is quick to react, jabbing a finger into Izuku’s chest and pushing him back, “Fuck you, Deku! Do whatever you want, I’m not asking anything!”
Izuku stumbles a little, but catches Katsuki at the wrist. He offers Katsuki a smile, pushing his hand down slowly. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
Katsuki feels his heart stop for a split second. Then, with a huff, he pulls away. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”
He ends up seated across Izuku in the small space of the bathroom, their knees almost touching on the floor. They sit together in comfortable silence for awhile, merely basking in each other’s presence. They could both hear the muffled beats of the song playing from outside, and Izuku taps his fingers to it mindlessly. Katsuki takes the time to study the freckles on Izuku’s cheeks, vivid in the bathroom’s bright light. He tries to pinpoint the exact colour of Izuku’s eyes – green was too simple, emerald too cheesy. He doesn’t know what colour they are, but he sure as fuck knows the rush it gives him when Izuku turns those eyes on him. Almost as if he’s read his mind, Izuku looks at him.
“Are you staring at me?” Izuku says, then winces like he regrets it.
Katsuki raises an eyebrow at him, fierce, even when he’s been caught red-handed. “There’s not much to look at.” Fuck, was it really his fault that he got mean when he panicked?
Izuku huffs out a short laugh, then drops the subject. “I’m surprised you came for prom,” He says next.
Katsuki wished he had a better excuse than, “Kirishima wanted me there, so,” He says, gesturing like as if it was self-explanatory, “Anyways, I told him he was being fucking gay and I wasn’t about to get a suit. So the fucker got me a suit and the ticket, and. Fuck, whatever, I owe him anyways.”
The green-haired listens with an uncharacteristically unreadable expression. He brings his knees up to his chest and seems to ponder for a minute. “You’re really close to Kirishima, huh.”
Katsuki flinches at the phrasing. “It’s fucking impossible to get rid of him. I’ve tried.” Izuku chuckles at that, and Katsuki tamps down the brief flare of pride he receives. “So,” Izuku says, tentatively, like as if he’s not sure he should ask. “Does that make Kirishima your prom date or something?”
Blanching, Katsuki is quick to snarl. “You fucking with me or something? He’s not my date. He already has someone in mind, anyways.”
“O-oh, okay. I didn’t know.” Then, with an awkward air about it, Izuku adds, “I don’t have a date either.”
Katsuki bites down the smirk threatening to form on his lips. Izuku looks almost shy, blinking a little too quickly at Katsuki. “What? Lost the nerve to ask Round Face out?” Katsuki cocks his head. He’s not sure he wants to know the answer, but he asks anyways.
“No. I wasn’t planning on asking her out…” Izuku trails off, suddenly very interested in the hem of his pants, picking at invisible threads.
“So who were you planning on asking out?”
Izuku’s hands jerk a little, but he answers quickly. “I don’t think prom dates are the person’s thing,” Izuku says, softly. Jealousy makes Katsuki tense, sitting up a little straighter. So Izuku did have someone in mind.
“I think you just pussied out.”
“Ah – well!” Izuku starts to protests, then decides not to. In a murmur, he says, “Maybe a bit.”
Katsuki decides not to say anything further, not keen on hearing anything more about Izuku’s potential crush. He wants to say he’s not a masochist, but the fact that he liked Izuku was masochistic in itself. They settle into silence again, except for Izuku who had started humming along to the song. Katsuki doesn’t really feel like telling him to shut up – just listens without comment. They start to shift in the confined space as the cool air starts to fade. It was getting warm, and Katsuki could feel sweat start to dampen his shirt.
Katsuki finds himself stretching, just to try and shake off some heat. It’s then that he notices the shift in Izuku’s behaviour. The green-haired had stopped humming, and had these alert eyes on and his tongue kept darting out to moisten his lips.
“Why’re you so nervous?” Katsuki demands. Izuku had this habit of glancing at everywhere but Katsuki’s face when he got nervous, and the tips of his ears would go bright pink. Katsuki had figured out Izuku’s tells a long time ago. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Um, just-” Izuku bites on his bottom lip, as if contemplating if he should say something. Then, with a look towards Katsuki’s shirt, he chokes out, “Your shirt buttons came undone.”
Katsuki looks down, and sure enough, the first few buttons were popped. Tanned skin and a muscled chest peeked out, and Katsuki found himself smirking at Izuku’s embarrassed reaction. “You didn’t have to look. My eyes are up here, nerd,” Katsuki says simply, looking straight into Izuku’s eyes.
Izuku’s face goes a violent, flaming red. “That’s not what I-”
“Jesus, calm down. I know,” Katsuki says, buttoning up his shirt as Izuku looks off to the side, “I’m just teasing.”
“Why do you do that?” Izuku asks, suddenly. Katsuki’s focused on getting the last button in, and replies a non-committal, “Do what?”
“Tease me. You do that a lot,” Izuku says, looking almost upset.
“I don’t always do it,” Katsuki replies, a little defensively. “You just ask for it. You ever hear the shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes?”
“You-” Izuku stops, frustration marking his features. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”
Katsuki frowns at him. “HAH? The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Katsuki bites back the words that threatened to spill past: You’re the one doing shit to me, fucking Deku.
The expression on Izuku’s face turns somewhat serious, although his ears burn brighter than before. His eyes rake over Katsuki’s face, as if searching for something.
Then, with an air of finality, Izuku speaks up. “Kacchan, I want to ask you something-”
Before he can finish, a loud knock at the door interrupts them.
Izuku shuts up almost instantly, turning wide, almost fearful eyes to the door. Katsuki sighs, getting up. “Go use another fucking toilet, this one’s occupied!” Katsuki shouts. He moves over to bang a fist on the door, just to make sure whoever was on the other end gets the message. There’s inaudible cursing, and the scuffling of feet retreating before blending into the music.
“Come on, we should get out of here,” Katsuki says. Izuku seems a little startled, but he gets up and follows after Katsuki.
They step out into the hall. Fortunately, there was no one there to see them. Katsuki relishes in the cool air that hits him, and takes in a deep breath. It seemed that they were in the bathroom for longer than he realised. The speakers had changed from playing upbeat songs to something more slow, the melody drifting out in deliberate, unhurried beats. He wasn’t all that eager to get back to his table, or join his friends on the dance floor where he could already spot Mina and Kirishima in a slow dance.
He turns to Izuku. “What were you going to say?”
Izuku looks back at him, suddenly jittery. “Um-”
“Midoriya.” The both of them hear Todoroki’s voice before they see him. Izuku’s the first to spot him. He seems to snap out of the earlier state he was in, and instead gives Todoroki a blinding grin. Katsuki tries his best not to grind his teeth. When did Izuku ever look at him that way? “I was looking for you.”
“Oh, you were?” Izuku laughs nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I just had to use the restroom.” Then, with a clumsy point at Katsuki, Izuku says, “Bumped into him on the way. So.”
Todoroki shifts his expressionless gaze over to Katsuki, who he acknowledges with a nod. Katsuki grunts back. He wasn’t exactly feeling up to conversing with Mr Prom King over here.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink with me.”
“Huh, me?” Izuku’s eyes flicker for a split second towards Katsuki, as if there was something Katsuki could say about the situation. “Well, okay. But I thought you were dancing?”
“I think I’ve done enough,” Todoroki says. He smiles, a small smile. “I’ll join you for the rest of the night, if that’s okay.”
The fucking bastard, flirting right in front of –
“Oh, but I was just talking to Kacchan-”
“Who am I, your mother? Fuck’s sake, Deku. Go do what you want.”
Katsuki had meant to sound dismissive, like as if he didn’t care if Izuku chose to continue talking to him or go off with stupid Mr Prom King. He thought it was a good idea, that it would be what Izuku was expecting. Instead, Izuku turns to him angrily. His gaze turned into a glare.
Normally, Katsuki would say something, anything. But for some reason, he finds himself stunned speechless, staring at Izuku and wondering what exactly he did wrong. Izuku was more than used to his harsh language, knew that he didn’t intend to be as mean as he came across. Izuku knew this all too well, and yet…
“I’ll see you around,” Izuku says. Because he has the decency to be a polite human being, even when he’s angry. Katsuki stares at him as he pivots on his heel, hooks his fingers onto Todoroki’s forearm and drags the both of them away from Katsuki.
---
The third time always felt surreal to Katsuki.
They were in their third year, and were still just as much a prime target for villains as they were in their first year. However, it seemed that as they grew stronger, so did the villains. The crime rate was shooting up that particular month, and they had been dispatched to work under pro-heroes to help out.
The villains they met that day were smart enough to separate them from their pro-heroes, and while the students managed to hold their own, they ended up with more than severe injuries. Katsuki, having pushed himself to a new limit against a villain, had ended up in a 5-day coma. Several of his ribs had been broken, and his wrists were in a brace. He hadn’t remembered it hurting as much as the raw, visceral pain that tore itself out his chest when he saw Izuku get an awful, direct hit to the gut after trying to push him away.
The physical pain came when he woke up. He was sore all over, his muscles feeling foreign and aching as he moved even a centimetre. It didn’t help that he was swamped by visitors – schoolmates surrounding him, his mom yelling, the nurses trying to shove their way between the crowd. There was also the smell of antiseptic and fresh sheets and the large walls of white that had hit him after everything else.
It took him a day or so to come back to some sort of senses. It was then he realised Izuku was in the hospital bed beside him, both arms wrapped up and bandages running across his chest. They didn’t get much chance to talk during the day, where there would be people everywhere.
Katsuki’s friends took turns coming over, bringing him packages of homework and telling him what happened over the day. Kaminari had gotten into the habit of buying him flowers, to which Katsuki had yelled, “I’m not fucking dead, you sack of shit!”. Izuku had his own visitors too. It was always the usual friends, but there was a hint of jealousy that hit Katsuki every time he noticed Shouto linger longer than the rest. Other times, it was Izuku’s mom. She would bring over handmade foods and gave Katuski his own little set, the box decorated with flowers and pink accents.
The curtains were usually drawn between them too. Katsuki was itching to ask Izuku if he was okay, or to yell at him or even beat him up further for even jumping in front of him during the fight. He wanted to do so many things. Shit, he just wanted to see that stupid nerd, hear his voice and make sure he was okay.
They’d had many close calls with death, but this one was different somehow. Katsuki realised it when Izuku drew back the curtains on the third night since Katsuki woke up from the (stupid) coma. It was late at night, and Katsuki was more than ready to sleep. Even under the covers, he felt the cold bite at his skin. He took a deep breath, pushing away the instinctual, nagging desire of the warmth of someone beside him.
His eyelids were heavy, and he had just turned onto his side when he heard the rustle of the curtain being pulled back. His eyes shot open, instantly noticing Izuku’s movements even in the dark. The green-haired’s hands were trembling, his voice soft and ghost-like in the night. He whispered a, “Kacchan,” and Katsuki felt it like a shiver down his spine.
In alarm, Katsuki watched as Izuku carefully rose from his bed, planting both feet on the floor and pushing himself up. “What the fuck-” Katsuki began. They hadn’t talked for the past several days and suddenly-
Katsuki almost pushed the latter off as Izuku started climbing into the space in front of him. But he’s still sleepy, and the sudden turn of events has his mind short-circuiting.
“Don’t push me away,” Izuku tells him, his voice shaking and tiny.
Despite Katsuki’s best efforts, he gives in. Something about the vulnerability that filled Izuku’s eyes – the same ones that were glistening and swimming with tears – made Katsuki stop. A part of him rejoices. Izuku’s warmth was settling slowly onto him. The rational side of him had him sitting straight up on the bed, tense, as Izuku sat in front of him.
“What the shit, Deku. Don’t think I won’t push you off just because-”
“I thought I lost you,” Izuku cuts him off. Katsuki pauses, sharp words dying on his tongue as he registers the words.
Somehow, a sort of calm washes over him when he sees the tears start to fall on Izuku’s cheeks. He could scoff, tell Izuku he was such a big crybaby, that they’re both fine, so why the overreaction? He could tell Izuku to fuck off right now, that this wasn’t his fucking business.
Instead, he grits his teeth and pokes Izuku’s leg with his foot. The boy’s head snaps up, eyes blinking questioningly at him.
“What’re you crying for?” Katsuki says, voice low, “We made it. The stupid fuck’s in jail now.”
Izuku shakes his head, his frame trembling in silent sobs. “It’s not that. I just – when you were in that coma, I thought you were never going to wake up. It was stupid, I know. I-”
“You really think I’m that weak?” Katsuki says. It’s supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out as something like reassurance, and Katsuki decides it’s worth it when the green-haired lets out a choked laugh, bringing his palms up to wipe at his cheeks.
His traitorous heart skips a beat.
Fuck, Izuku’s smiling because of him. It’s when he finds a small smile curling at his own lips as he watches the green-haired laugh softly that he knows he’s truly, utterly fucked. They’re seated so close. Izuku’s warmth was radiating off of him and Katsuki wanted to pull him in, press cold lips against the heated skin of his neck. He wonders what it’s like to fall asleep with Izuku cradled in his chest, their legs tangled, his hands on Izuku’s waist.
A slight panic stabs at Katsuki at the sudden onslaught of thoughts. “Since when did you get so bold, anyways? Who the fuck said you could climb into my bed?” Katsuki’s quick to say – an automatic defence to how tightly his heart was squeezing in his chest.
“Ah-” Izuku hums, glancing around briefly as if just realising where he was. “But you didn’t push me off.”
Katsuki’s glad for the dark – it covers the flush on his cheeks perfectly. “Why are you here?” Katsuki says, trying to regain some of the dignity he’d lost when Izuku decided he could crawl into his bed.
“Because I-” Izuku hesitates. He buries his face in his palms for a few seconds. When he pulls them away, he looks up at Katsuki, locking gazes with him in an almost determined manner. “I missed you. I thought you were gone for five days, Kacchan. Shit-” A thrill gently shocks Katsuki at the sound of a vulgarity being spoken by Izuku. “I just needed to, um,” The earlier confidence seems to fade, trail off, and Izuku brings his eyes down like he’s embarrassed, “hold you. Just to make sure you’re, like, here. And fine.”
Katsuki speaks without thinking. “You’re not holding me right now, are you?” His heart almost stops working under his ribs.
He doesn’t realise just how much of an invitation that sounded like. Not until he sees Izuku swallow, traces the movement of his throat and just a second later, Izuku’s closed the gap between them. There’s hands on the side of his face, pulling him in and warm lips brushing against his in the most chaste, first kiss Katsuki’s ever had.
When they pull away, Katsuki’s burning up under the blankets, under the smothering yet at the same time freeing heat of Izuku on top of him. He grabs at the other’s wrists, one in each hand and yanks him forward. Katsuki doesn’t know what he’s doing, but his heart has forgotten how to function and all he can think of is Izuku. “Ah – Kacchan, wait!”
He brushes his lips against the shell of Izuku’s ear. “I said: When did you get so bold, huh?” He murmurs, relishing in the way Izuku shivers under him, under his hold, “That’s usually my role.”
Izuku lets out something between a whimper and a moan, and Katsuki can only take so much. “Kacchan, wait for a min-” His voice was breathy, wrecked, and Katsuki hadn’t even touched him. He grabs the front of Izuku’s shirt, swallowing his words and slotting their lips together. It’s harder this time, bruising and messy. There was a sort of desperation, a sort of need that couldn’t possibly be placed into words as he gripped at Izuku’s hips, hard enough to have the green-haired groan into his mouth, while Izuku’s fingers tangled themselves tightly in the hair on his nape. Katsuki runs his hands under Izuku’s shirt, making it ride up to reveal scarred, pale skin. Izuku looks a mess, and so so pretty, and Katsuki wonders how he’d ever gone so long without touching him before.
“Ah – Bakugo, wait,” Izuku says, breathless. Katsuki tenses for a moment at the sound of his name, and not the usual nickname that the green-haired always used. It’s enough for Izuku to pry himself from Katsuki’s hold. He places a palm on Katsuki’s chest, and pushes himself away.
Unease settles uncomfortably in Katsuki’s gut, the strange feeling that something’s about to go wrong. “What are we doing?” Izuku asks.
“Kissing,” Katsuki deadpans. His fingers flit at his side, wanting to reach out and pull Izuku back in. But he knows better. He sees Izuku blush, even in the dark, and feels the hand drop slowly down his chest. “I know that!” Izuku huffs, still not looking entirely in Katsuki’s eyes. “I mean – that, what does this mean…then?”
It was just like Izuku to do this – to one moment have his body move without thinking, then the next to want to question and analyse everything that happened. Katsuki stares, not quite sure what to say. So, they kissed… did that mean Izuku felt the same way? It was probably just an in-the-moment thing for him, fuelled by adrenaline and the rush of having survived. The idiot probably regretted everything that happened, probably wanted to forget everything and act like nothing happened.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Katsuki forces himself to say. The words feel wrong being said out, and it sounds odd even to his own ears. The hand on his chest retracts completely, as Izuku chooses to fold both his hands on his lap. “Why?”
“So this means nothing to you?” Izuku asks him. There’s a cautious look on his face, but Katsuki can see the hurt lying beneath it. He doesn’t know what to do.
Katsuki knows better than to answer that. “What the hell are you asking from me?”
“I – I don’t know. I don’t think we should – we shouldn’t do this,” Izuku admits, looking down.
“Then why did you kiss me?!” Katsuki says, his voice rising. His face feels hot, embarrassed, and he suddenly wants to be away from Izuku. “Hey, Deku!” He says, when Izuku refused to face him. His voice was coming out like a growl. The green-haired looks wearily up at him. “Do you like me?”
Teary-eyes blink blearily back at him. “What?”
“I’m asking you if you like me, goddamnit – fuck!” Katsuki clenches his hands into fists, shaking with repressed anger. He wants to blow something up, he wants to get the hell out of here –
“I don’t know!” Izuku cuts in, voice cracking on the last syllable. He’s biting down hard on his bottom lip, face scrunched up, looking almost pained. “I don’t know if I do. Ah, I’ve been asking myself this for a long time. I just – I want to stop thinking about you yet I can’t.”
“Well maybe you should’ve thought about it longer before you kissed me.”
Izuku looks at him almost furiously. “I didn’t plan on kissing you! It – it just happened,” Then with a flare of anger and confusion blending into one, “Why did you kiss me back, anyways? Do you like me?!”
Katsuki feels his heart drop. “Fuck you, Deku,” He hisses. His nails were digging into his palm, leaving angry red marks the shape of crescents. “Don’t flatter yourself. You think I’d like you that way?”
“Then why?! Why did you always act like, like something could happen between us?”
“Did I?” Katsuki says, his tone sharp, condescending. The flicker of hope in Izuku’s eyes waver. “You must’ve been reading me wrong. You don’t even like me so what’s the fucking issue here?”
“Things are just messy, okay?” Izuku says, “I mean after Todoroki confessing, I just got confused-”
“That fucker wants to be with you?” Katsuki snaps. His mind was reeling. He doesn’t understand why he was being so aggressive, or why he was acting this way. But the thought that Izuku might not like him back and the sudden revelation that the stupid half-and-half bastard had any interest in Izuku at all had him seething.
“Would you have picked me?” Katsuki asks.
“What…?” Izuku sounds lost. Everything was happening too fast and too sudden. Katsuki couldn’t help but be reactive.
“Would you have fucking picked me–?! If I like you. Would you pick me?”
Izuku shakes his head, a strangled laugh escaping his lips. He rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes, sounding strained as he speaks. “I don’t know, I don’t-”
“Fuck this shit,” Katsuki says. He pushes himself off the bed, even though some muscle in his body protests violently. Pushing it aside, he heads towards the door. He’ll probably get reprimanded by the nurses, but he could hardly care less. Izuku’s voice calls after him, pleading him to stay, to wait.
He knows Izuku will go after him. “Don’t come after me,” Katsuki manages to say, voice like gravel. He doesn’t wait to see what Izuku would do. Sliding the door open forcefully, Katsuki walks out, fast enough that Izuku wouldn’t keep up and into the bright light of the hallways.
Neither of them brought it up again.
When they recovered, they went back to school as usual. Their sparring sessions became less frequent, more aggressive, as if what they couldn’t put into words could somehow translate into every punch or kick that they threw. There were harsher words, piercing glares and times where they blatantly ignored the other. Often times, the unresolved anger between them became so palpable that their friends would start dragging them away from each other. It was like they were back in their first year again.
Izuku, who had started becoming such a big presence in Katsuki’s life, started to drift out of it. He lingered around his friends more often, and Katsuki didn’t receive anymore texts asking for help on homework.
It’s only in the last half of their third year do things come back to a sort of normalcy. They start bantering like they did before, even though there’s abit of an awkward, slightly tense air to it. Izuku starts asking Katsuki to walk back with him again. Unlike other times though, they kept their distance. Izuku flustered less, and Katsuki teased less. It wasn’t the same as before, and Katsuki didn’t think it could ever be. But a part of it hurt. Especially when he realised that there was a missing glimmer in Izuku’s eyes that used to be there every time he looked at Katsuki. Their relationship starts feeling something akin to that of a distant friendship than a potential something.
Katsuki didn’t think of it before, but he wonders now if it was simply because Izuku had moved on.
---
I know you're not in love
Like you used to be
Guess I'm not the one
Like you used to think
So you just run
I know that I'm stuck
In this misery
Guess I'm not enough
Like you used to think
So I'll just run
---
The fourth time happens a week before graduation.
They’re all preparing to move out of the dorms, folding clothes in boxes and tearing down posters. Everyone was busy, bustling about and helping each other. Katsuki had most of his stuff ready, packing in advance compared to his fellow classmates. Earlier, they held a mini celebration at the common area celebrating a few of them who got confirmation from their respective hero agencies.
Katsuki had yet to apply, which surprised all of his friends, but he had his reasons. He didn’t bother going to the celebration either, instead staying in his room to work on one of his applications. Kirishima had come in earlier, with frosted cake on a paper plate and party hat askew on his red hair. Katsuki had punched him in the shoulder in gratitude, to which the other laughed as they shared the cake on Katsuki’s floor.
“You finished that?” Kirishima asked him, gesturing to the table where Katsuki had neatly compiled his papers. His mouth was full of cake, frosting smeared on the corners of his lips.
“Disgusting. Swallow your fucking food,” Katsuki scowls. Kirishima waves his hand in the air as apology.
“So did you?”
“Yeah – thirty minutes ago.”
“Thirty minutes!” Kirishima exclaims, choking on his mouthful. He pauses for a moment to swallow. “You could’ve came down.” Katsuki doesn’t have to say anything, merely passes him a look. “Okay, okay,” Kirishima sighs, “I get it.”
Katsuki’s about to put down his fork and reach for a napkin when Kirishima pipes up again. “Flowers!” He points like a child at the small bouquet that sat on Katsuki’s nightstand, “Are those supposed to be for me?”
Heart stopping in his chest for a second, Katsuki is quick to recover. “Are you stupid? Why would I buy flowers for you?”
Kirishima rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “For being a good friend. And bringing you cake.”
“I don’t even like cake.”
“You’re still eating it,” Kirishima says – that smartass – then adds, “You’re not answering the question.”
“It’s none of your business!” Katsuki tells him. He snatches a packet of tissues from his drawer and tosses it in Kirishima’s face. “Okay,” Kirishima smiles at him, catching the packet as it tumbled into his lap, “You can talk to me if you’re having any…troubles.” He waggles his eyebrows at the last word for effect, and a repulsed expression makes its way across Katsuki’s face. “I happen to be an expert on it now.”
Kirishima never failed to bring up the fact that he’s had a girlfriend for the past 10 months now. It became a sort of a joke among their group. Especially after Kaminari’s failed attempt at asking Jirou to be his girlfriend. Three years in the same class and Kaminari still couldn’t get his words right when he wasn’t thinking with his dick. All of his friends seemed to be growing up, getting into proper relationships or looking for love. It was all so stupid to Katsuki.
In any case, he wasn’t having troubles – not exactly, anyways. He’d learnt about Izuku’s acceptance into an agency a few days ago the same day he happened to pass by a florist. It was just a coincidence, something he did out of convenience. Nothing else. Sure, he might have remembered Izuku mentioning that he liked flowers, but Katsuki has always had a good memory. So what about it?
Yet, a part of him knows it’s also because he was still seeking closure – about them, if they were still even a thing. Katsuki had tried to ignore it, push all thoughts out of his head but as graduation loomed over their heads, he realised he might not get another chance to really talk to Izuku. It was (god knows how many) months’ worth of pent-up emotions, words that begged to be said and a heart that craved for warmth, no matter how much Katsuki tried to deny it.
He wasn’t sure if Izuku would talk to him, or if anything would come out of the conversation. But that night at the hospital was burnt into his mind – soft, lingering lips, the hopeful flame that had flickered in his chest only to get stomped out just as fast, the feel of his hands on Izuku. If Katsuki had to hear it from Izuku’s own lips, that they never stood a chance, for all this to finally be over, then so be it.
He doesn’t let himself think about hope – about the yearning stares that Izuku gave him sometimes, wistful, as if pondering a pipe dream. It makes Katsuki want to laugh and punch something all at the same time.
“Thanks for coming in.”
Kirishima beams at him. “What’s that I hear? A thanks?”
“Make me repeat that shit again and I’m kicking you out.”
The red-head holds his hands up in surrender, then quickly bends down to grab at the now empty paper plate. “I’m going, okay? Text me if you need anything.”
“Whatever,” Katsuki grunts.
He can hear exactly when the party dies down and everyone gets back into their rooms. The music was abruptly cut off, and there were the loud parting greetings, the opening and closing of doors as people made their ways in and out of rooms, and the dragging of feet as his slightly tipsy classmates scuffled to get back to bed. It takes him awhile to figure out a good timing, but Katsuki’s smart. When the hallways are quiet, he gingerly picks up the flowers and makes his way out.
He walks over to Izuku’s room door, albeit slowly. He was never one to back down, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to pussy out over some stupid, green-haired idiot that just so happened to make his heart be a goddamned, world-class gymnast.
Rapping short and sharp on the door, Katsuki pulls his hand away and waits. It takes less than three minutes before he hears Izuku move around behind the door, yelling out a muffled, “Wait a minute!”
The door swings open. Izuku stands at the door, holding the frame as he registers that it’s Katsuki standing there. He looks a mess, curly hair even more ruffled than usual. His white shirt was creased at the bottom and was two sizes too big, almost hanging off one shoulder in a way that makes Katsuki avert his gaze for a moment.
“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaims. A sweet, nervous smile splits across his face. “You’re here.” It’s then he looks down, noticing the flowers nestled in Katsuki’s hands and his whole expression shifts. The corner of his lips turn downwards just slightly and his eyes flicker from the flowers back up to Katsuki’s face uncertainly.
Before he can say anything, Katsuki speaks up. “Congratulations,” He holds out the flowers begrudgingly, “I heard you got accepted into the agency.”
“Ah – yeah. Thanks,” He takes it from Katsuki’s hands, delicately. “Uh, I’ll place it inside, just give me a moment.” Izuku disappears quickly into his room, looking slightly wide-eyed at the flowers. He comes out hastily, closing the door behind him. “Did you want to talk to me?”
“No,” Katsuki replies instinctively, then flinches, “I mean yes. Shit. I just wanted to ask how you’re doing.” There’s more to it than just that, and Izuku’s clever enough to read between the lines.
Before Izuku can reply, there’s a creak a few doors down. They both turn and watch as Todoroki walks out of the room, a cardboard box steady in his hands. He stares at the two of them blocking the hallway, his expression barely changing even as he’s walking forward. “Hey!” Izuku squeaks, his voice high. “Hi Izuku,” Todoroki replies. He looks at Katsuki, “Hey.” Katsuki nods in return.
“What – what’re you carrying?” Izuku coughs out as he approaches. Todoroki gives him a weird look, shifting the box onto one hand before easily going up to him and sliding an arm around his waist. It’s not anything, Katsuki knows – not a show off, not a brag, not anything but simple reassurance for the evidently frazzled green-haired, subtle yet present. Katsuki’s fingers curl at his sides. He hadn’t known before, but it was clear as day now where Izuku stood in his life. Or rather, where he didn’t. “Recyclables,” Todoroki answers. Then with a small quirk of the brow, “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Izuku says, “I’m just talking to Bakugo about some stuff. I’ll catch up with you later?”
“Okay,” Todorki says. Katsuki half expects him to do some stupid shit like kiss Izuku on the cheek, but he doesn’t. He walks away without another word, not looking the least bit bothered by Katsuki’s presence. The moment Todoroki’s out of earshot, Izuku heaves a sigh.
Katsuki expects to feel something. Instead, there’s an emptiness that he doesn’t expect, a hollowness where there shouldn’t be. Perhaps a part of him had already known it’d end this way.
They don’t speak. Not for a few minutes, but it almost feels like forever.
“So…you and Todoroki,” Katsuki says, simply. He feels like a fucking loser standing there, like as if this was some cliché Hollywood movie. Except, he wasn’t going to get his happy ending.
“Well, not exactly. We’re getting there,” Izuku says, hands gesturing needlessly. Katsuki nods silently. Somehow, he knew this was bound to happen. That didn’t make it hurt any less.
The words come out before Katsuki can think twice, sharp-tongued. “You chose him.”
Izuku chokes for a bit, blinking quickly. “Kacchan – that’s not, no, that’s not fair.”
Katsuki’s throat tightened considerably. “Why the fuck not?” He doesn’t mean to be aggressive, but it’s all he’s ever known. It’s etched into him like a reflex. “You never said you liked me,” Izuku bites out, suddenly. He jerks his head to the side just slightly as if snapping himself out of it, cursing softly under his breath. “I’m sorry,” Izuku says, needlessly.
“But you knew,” Katsuki finds himself retaliating. His heart starts to beat in crescendo. “You knew how I felt, didn’t you?”
“That’s not the-” Izuku shakes his head, cutting himself off. He breathes in slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me? Back at the hospital. Or, well. Why didn’t you ever say anything at all?” Izuku asks, the beginnings of frustration lacing his tone, despite his efforts. When Katsuki fails to work his voice, Izuku sighs. “You never fought for me, you know,” Izuku continues, “Even back then. I just thought that maybe you didn’t want me.”
Hot, white anger flashes up in Katsuki so strongly it blinds him for a second. He slams a hand on the wall beside Izuku’s head. The other jumps at the sudden movement, instinctively reaching up to grab at Katsuki’s free hand as if to stop him from caging Izuku in completely. Katsuki’s skin burns at the contact.
“You don’t get to be mad at me,” Izuku says, defiant. He’s trembling a little, but it’s not out of fear, even as Katsuki leans into his space with enraged eyes and harsh breaths.
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Don’t tell me to shut up! You came here to talk, so talk!” This isn’t new – the yelling at each other, the tearing at each other’s throats, or even the laying themselves bare and vulnerable like they wouldn’t with anyone else, without even knowing. This was it. Every single pinch of anger and regret and sadness breaking past the tight lid, seeping into the crevices of his heart, leaving an ache he desperately wished he’d never felt.
“I didn’t fucking fight for you because I thought I didn’t deserve you! I wouldn’t admit I liked you because I didn’t even let myself think for one minute that you’d even look at me that way. Then you kissed me. And for that one fucking moment I felt like the luckiest piece of shit in the world. But then you say you don’t even know what you feel for me. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Do you fucking realise how much that messes with my head? Look, here’s the facts, Izuku. You could live without me just fine. But I can’t go one day without thinking about you. I’d rather not have you at all than have you with me thinking you could be happier with someone else. There, I fucking said it! Are you happy now?”
Izuku looks at him, speechless, eyebrows furrowed. His grip on Katsuki’s arm is loosening. “But that’s – that’s not like you!” He splutters out.
“Well this whole love shit isn’t like me,” Katsuki says curtly, “You think I enjoy this? It fucking hurts loving you.”
Izuku lets go of Katsuki completely, like as if touching Katsuki exhausted him. He leans back against the wall and shuts his eyes. He rakes shaking fingers through his hair. Then, he blinks his eyes open slowly. “We’d be a disaster together…”
Katsuki laughs, but it’s bitter. He lets go from the wall, leaning away. “I thought you’d say something like that.”
Izuku doesn’t say anything for a moment, swallowing silent tears as he stares at the ground.
Katsuki wonders why he ever bothered. Before he can decide to tell Izuku to forget it and storm out, Izuku speaks. His voice is low, hoarse, a little scared. “How long?” He asks, finally looking up at Katsuki.
“Since we were sixteen.” The words are sour on Katsuki’s tongue. It didn’t matter that Katsuki’s loved Izuku since they were sixteen, or that he’d continue to love him for even more. None of it mattered because Katsuki fucked up and Izuku didn’t choose him.
“You should’ve said something…”
“And what would that have done? You don’t love me. I can’t change that.”
“I loved you once, you know,” Izuku refutes, openly crying now. Katsuki hates this – hates that whenever they were around each other, Izuku ends up crying more than he smiles. “I did love you.”
“It just wasn’t enough.”
“Who are you to say that, Kacchan?” Izuku says, swiping his hand across his cheeks to wipe at his tears. Katsuki’s heart tightens at the nickname, said with so much pain and hurt that Katsuki would have rather not heard it at all. “What do you even know?!”
“Look, I don’t give a shit, Deku! I waited for you. You didn’t. It doesn’t fucking matter if you loved me back then if you don’t love me now. Just-” The ache in his heart is getting too real, too physical, and he knows he has to get out of there soon. “Fucking forget it. I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.”
“There was nothing to wait for, you never said anything!”
“You think I don’t fucking know that I’m at fault too?” Katsuki says, tone dripping with acid, “I’m fucking sorry that I didn’t want to give my heart to the fucking asshole I knew was going to break it anyways. Is that what you want to fucking hear from me? Jesus Christ, you’re impossible.”
“Why are you being so mean?” Izuku glares at him, vision blurred with tears. It was as if the whole conversation was draining the fight from Izuku.
Anger rises like waves in his chest. Anger at himself, at Izuku, at the stupid flowers, at Todoroki, at himself again for hurting Izuku.
“I’m fucking angry at myself!” Katsuki yells, “For fucking this up, for letting you go. Fuck!” He’s breathing heavily, his chest burning. Of course it’s Izuku of all people that manages to pull forward the most bruised parts of himself that he keeps so well under wraps.
For a long while, neither of them say anything.
Finally, it’s Izuku that moves forward towards Katsuki, tipping slowly up on his toes. Katsuki’s too exhausted to shove him off – his heart was heavy, his throat sore. There’s something about the feeling of Izuku’s touch that calms him.
Izuku’s hands are warm as he settles them on each side of Katsuki’s face, tilting him forward until their foreheads bump. It’s soft, gentle, speaks like an apology as he closes his eyes and focuses on Izuku’s breath fanning across his lips, his cheeks.
“I don’t love you,” He says, his voice a coarse whisper, bitter, resentful. “I don’t love you,” He repeats again, like as if he’s trying to convince himself, or convince them both.
When Izuku speaks, his voice is barely audible, so much so that if Katsuki hadn’t been only inches apart from him, he wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Don’t say that,” Izuku pleads. He was quivering even as he held Katsuki. “Please.”
A tentative pause.
“You knew we wouldn’t work out,” Izuku says, “Right?”
Katsuki doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want to say the one thing he’s been telling himself for years. But he says it anyways.
“I know.”
“Okay,” Izuku breathes out, his whole body sagging in relief. He moves his hands to wrap around Katsuki’s neck, burying his face in Katsuki’s neck as he cries. Even now, the familiar scent of Izuku, pressed up against him, makes him forget the rest of the world for just a minute. Katsuki has his hands around Izuku’s waist to support him as he sobs. Katsuki’s stupid, fucking heart is being broken and yet he’d still hold Izuku in his arms like it’s the only thing he ever knows.
He knows it now – it’s not that they wouldn’t work out. It’s that they were too scared to try. It was foolish, but nothing about love was ever logical.
People don’t always get their first loves. Things don’t always work out. Katsuki had his chance, and he let it slip right through his fingers. At the end of the day, Izuku still had someone who could make him happy in a way no one else could, and Katsuki could do nothing but live with the knowledge that that someone was never going to be him.