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Katsuki entered the tea shop on a whim.
He was out walking on one of his rare days-off when it began to rain. A spring shower, sudden and unexpected. He needed to get out of the downpour and the tea shop looked as good a cover as any.
Katsuki was used to the open, modern feel of most coffee shops. The airy design, sturdy tables, bar stools, comfy couches. People with an apron and a scrawled name tag shouting 'welcome'.
The tea shop was none of that. The place felt quietly elegant. A high ceiling lit with soft golden light, wood panels, a lushly carpeted floor. It should have been daunting but there was a quiet intimacy about it that invited you to come in. The place reminded him a lot of Yaoyorozu: her obvious privileged upbringing tempered by her innate sweetness and willingness to make friends.
The carpet muffled the sound of footsteps but Katsuki was a pro hero and heard them anyway. A young man in a crisp white shirt, black trousers and waistcoat emsemble approached.
He had the greenest eyes Katsuki had ever seen.
“Welcome, sir,’ the man said, with a polite bow and a smile more brilliant than courteous.
“Place looks fancy,” Katsuki says with a sniff, “what do you do here?”
“We serve tea.”
The man hands him a business card.
“So you own this place, huh? Midoriya Deku.”
Green eyes blinked at him, then a pink flush rose up his freckled cheeks.
“Uh, it’s Izuku.”
“Oh yeah?”Katsuki said with a grin. He liked the blush.
Katsuki followed Izuku to a table that’s closer to Aoyama’s taste than his, making him grimace. But the upholstered seats were beyond comfortable and more than made up for things. Both table and chairs were set against an alcove, pale blue curtains drawn to the side, giving a sense of both coziness and privacy.
The place made Katsuki think of the secret base he used to build as a child at his parent’s living room, made up of sofa cushions and some well placed throw pillows.
“May I have your name, sir?” Izuku said, as Katsuki settled in, smiling down at him.
“Kacchan,” he answered, surprising both himself, and Izuku — judging from the widening of the green eyes.
But he didn’t want to be Bakugou here. Or Ground Zero.
“We’re happy to have you, Kacchan. What tea would you like to have?” Izuku said, placing a leather-bound menu in front of Katsuki.
What Katsuki knew about tea was just enough to fill, well, a tea cup — and a small one at that. He preferred coffee and drank whatever tea was on hand, if that was not available.
He slid the menu back to Izuku and sat back.
“Why don’t you surprise me?”
Katsuki expected Izuku to be flustered again but instead he was met with an delighted smile, his obvious excitement lending a faint blush to his cheeks. The embarrassed flush was entertaining; but Katsuki thought this soft, pleased look also had a lot going for it.
“Thank you for trusting me with your selection, Kacchan. I shall prepare one for you now,” Izuku said.
“Bring a cup for yourself. Join me,” Katsuki invited.
Izuku opened his mouth, obviously about to protest and Katsuki halted him with a quirk of an eyebrow and an exaggerated look around the shop.
“There’s no other guests. And I can use the company.”
Izuku still looked uncertain so Katsuki pulled out his trump card.
“I don’t know anything about tea. You can tell me all about it.”
Katsuki watched as Izuku nodded, green eyes lit up once again with excitement.
Katsuki came back to the tea shop every chance he got. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot.
He’s been in the pro hero business long enough for things to have lost its shine. He still got a kick from winning, he can’t imagine doing anything else, but he’s long since reached his goals, and some days it’s hard to ignore the discontent with his life.
From that first time, Katsuki always invited Izuku to sit with him. It wasn't a shop policy to sit with customers but the shop was more often idle than busy, and the two assistants could easily cover what guests they had.
Izuku talked to him about the many variants of tea and Katsuki did try to listen but the shy dimple on Izuku's cheek was distracting — not to mention the freckles across the bridge of his nose that begged to be counted.
The third time Izuku laughingly called him out for not listening, Katsuki scheduled a one-on-one tutorial with Yaoyorozu about the finer points of tea. She had clapped her hands in delight and Katsuki emerged from that session with a tummy sloshing full of tea and the confidence to discuss the elevated flavor of Golden Tips Imperial Tea.
Katsuki hadn't planned on doing anything about this thing with Izuku. He was busy with hero work and it was a dangerous profession to bring civilians in. He just wanted this small slice of calm in his life, where he could sit and bask in Izuku's smiles, surrounded by the earthy scent of whatever tea Izuku had chosen for them to enjoy that day.
Katsuki had never been one for small talk, but Izuku had a way of coaxing him out of his tight-lipped hold on himself. He found himself talking about his childhood, his time in UA, his work as a pro hero.
Nothing confidential, maybe a little bit more than what a diligent researcher could find in the internet, but somehow, talking helped. Izuku was not part of the pro hero community, was simply a willing ear in a quiet tea shop, but it made a difference. It was like having a childhood friend, someone he could be himself with, not be Ground Zero.
Izuku would have figured out by now who Katsuki really was but he never prodded him about his pro hero work.
Ground Zero regularly appeared in the news, his fight with villains caught on camera. He would appear at the tea shop the following day with a black eye or worse and Izuku's green eyes would linger on the injury but otherwise say nothing. He would talk about other things and wait until Katsuki brought it up himself; his frustration at letting one get away, his regret at having to put another in a coma from which it seemed they might not awaken; all the people he couldn't save.
They would probably have gone on like this for a long time except, one day, Katsuki responded to a routine villain attack, and when the dust settled, he realized Izuku had been one of those injured.
Izuku had covered two teenagers with his body and suffered the brunt of the falling debris. Katsuki had seen him being loaded into an ambulance, green eyes dazed with pain and shock, the bones on his right arm visibly broken.
Katsuki had little patience with the media but he was generally diligent about dealing with the police and other red tape. Not this time.
He hauled a sidekick by the collar and thrust her towards one of the police, tersely directing her to 'deal with this'. Then he blasted to the sky — illegal use of quirk be damned.
Katsuki spent 2 hours in the hospital waiting area. Someone from his agency had brought him civilian clothes to change into and he washed off the stains of battle, not once looking at himself in the mirror.
It turned out Izuku had been lucky, really lucky. Other than the broken arm — painful but easily remedied, a mild concussion, and some cuts and bruises that will heal soon enough, he had managed to come out of the villain attack relatively unscathed.
Katsuki stepped inside the curtained area. Izuku sat on a hospital bed, right arm in a cast and sling, arguing with the doctor about whether or not he could go home that day.
“I need to go home and feed my cat, sensei. And I’m sure you need the bed for other patients."
"You need overnight monitoring, Midoriya-san. I cannot release you if you have no one to stay with you tonight."
"I can watch him," Katsuki said quietly, cutting into the discussion.
Doctor, nurse and patient all turned to look at him in varying degrees of surprise.
"Well, if that's the case,” the doctor said, eyeing Katsuki, “there's really nothing wrong with Midoriya-san that sleep and rest won't heal. And he can do that at home."
The doctor listed things Katsuki already knew on how to deal with a concussion, signed the clipboard and left, the nurse following in his wake.
Izuku hadn't said anything since Katsuki came in, green eyes wide and his mouth still open in surprise.
"Why are you here, Kacchan?" he finally got out.
"I'm taking you home.”
The sound that escaped Izuku could have been a squeak.
"Why?"
Katsuki looked at him. He still had soot on one cheek, a butterfly bandage on his temple holding a cut together. His green curls were a marvel of disarray.
"Do you wanna go home or not?"
"I... Yes, please.”
Their escape from the hospital had to be delayed while Katsuki bought a shirt from the souvenir shop to replace the hospital gown Izuku was wearing. His shirt had encountered the hospital's scissors and lost the battle, cut to pieces in the emergency room.
A bemusedly-given address and a cab ride later, and they were home.
Katsuki asked for the key and ended up rooting around Izuku's pockets for it. Izuku would ordinarily have been embarrassed but his eyes were already drooping with fatigue.
Katsuki had just opened the door, helping his charge in, when Izuku suddenly gasped and shouted "Oh no! Wait!"
But it was too late. They were already inside, the overhead lights on, and Izuku's decor of choice was laid bare in all its gaudy heroic glory. One wall was all-shelves, filled with various hero merch. The throw on the couch was in blatant All Might colors, as was the mug left on the coffee table.
And on one wall, dominating the entire room, was a framed spotlighted full-body poster of Ground Zero.
"Oh god. I'm sorry. I forgot all about it.”
Izuku had been pale during the taxi ride but his face was now flushed with embarrassment, his uninjured arm waving around as if he could erase the reality of living with a life-sized poster of the man standing beside him.
But Izuku was home, injured but not fatally so, safe and within Katsuki's reach.
So for the first time since he saw Izuku loaded on a stretcher almost 4 hours ago — Katsuki smiled.
"I didn't know you were a fan, Deku.”
Katsuki hadn't thought it was possible but Izuku got even more red.
"I am. Oh god. I’ve followed your career since before your debut. I’ve always thought Kacchan was amazing. But I swear! I’m not a stalker. I just… I just really like you.”
Izuku green eyes shone with helpless adoration even as the color on his cheeks receded.
“You can stalk me any time.”
“Oh.”
Katsuki brushed his knuckles against the unruly curls over Izuku’s ear.
“You’re tired. Let’s get you settled.”
Katsuki called for food to be delivered while Izuku fumbled his way to feeding his calico.
"So this is Smash," Katsuki said, bending to scratch the cat behind the ears. "The name should have been a clue, you always did get extra excited whenever I mentioned him."
Izuku groaned.
"I'll take you to see him when you feel better."
"What? No! Really?"
Katsuki shrugged.
There would have been more effusive thanks but Katsuki could see Izuku's energy flagging, despite the boost provided by the All Might talk. He steered him towards the bedroom instead and got another surprise.
There were more hero merch inside — predominantly green, black and orange themed, including a body pillow with Katsuki’s likeness that had him grinning.
“Why is this happening?” Izuku groaned, hiding his face with his good arm.
“You never once mentioned you liked me this much,” Katsuki said, his mood having improved enough to tease.
Izuku looked at him primly.
“Of course not! You were a guest in my tea shop. It was supposed to be a safe place for you. And anyway,” Izuku continued, voice going soft, “I was happy just to see you.”
The words soothed Katsuki, helped pacify the angry, still-terrified beast growling in his chest.
“C’mon, out of your clothes. I’ll help you take a bath.”
Izuku’s green eyes widened but didn’t protest. Katsuki borrowed from hospital ER policy and just cut the shirt off. He made a mental note to bring over some of his shirts that Izuku could wear. They'd be loose on him and will make getting it on/off his cast easier.
The mental image that came with the idea — Izuku wearing his shirts — made Katsuki pause.
Izuku stood there, half naked, a dusting of freckles on his chest and shoulders.
Katsuki had been too pre-occupied in the hospital earlier, his stomach still tied up in knots — but he noticed now.
Izuku saw him looking and blushed.
Katsuki cut off the stuttering. Time enough for all that later.
“It can wait, Deku. I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly, voice firm with conviction.
He helped Izuku out of the rest of his clothes and into the bathroom. He stripped himself, flashing Izuku a smirk when he heard him squeaking.
“Behave yourself, Deku. I just fought off a villain today, I need my rest.”
Izuku sputtered, first in indignation and then because Katsuki opened the shower, pouring water over Izuku’s face.
Izuku obediently sat on the low stool and allowed Katsuki to help him. He was obviously tired and the cast on his dominant arm made washing difficult but Katsuki knew his way around injuries.
Once a clean Izuku was settled in the bath to soak his bruised muscles, Katsuki took his own shower then rummaged in Izuku’s closet. None of Izuku’s clothes would fit him. He gave another mental thanks to the staffer who brought him fresh clothes earlier — it will have to do.
Katsuki got Izuku out of the bath just in time to see him drifting off to sleep.
“Oi! Don’t sleep there. C’mon.”
Izuku managed to eat a few bites before setting his chopsticks down. Katsuki didn’t push.
He ushered Izuku to bed. He hadn't seen a guest room but the couch looked wide enough to hold him, if not long enough.
"Sleep, Deku. I'll check on you through the night.”
"Mmmm," Izuku replied, eyes closed, snuggling against the pillows.
"Come sleep with me?" he said, opening his eyes. His green gaze was tired, but lucid. The entreaty in them clear despite the yawn he couldn't stop. "I promise not to molest you," he said with a tired smile.
Izuku lifted the corner of the blanket and Katsuki gave in, did what he had been wanting to do anyway.
Katsuki picked up the body pillow, grimaced at the smirk it sported, and tossed it to the floor.
"Hey!" Izuku said laughing. "I like that pillow.”
Katsuki slid in under the blanket. He gathered Izuku in his arms and allowed himself to be soothed by the smell and feel him.
"Too bad," Katsuki murmured against Izuku's curls. "You'll have to hug the real thing tonight."