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Izuku, had been plagued by migraines ever since he could remember. Horrendous, all-consuming, inescapable migraines.
Now usually, he had medicine that could help rid his body of the intensity that pounded relentlessly behind his eyelids, but not always.
Ever since the incident at Kamino Ward, and All Might’s retirement, Izuku had felt even more pressure than usual, and thus had fallen into his patterned headaches more and more frequently. His prescriptions weren’t lasting as long as they usually did, and he knew it would only pose problems if he went to the doctor begging for refills before they were due.
He didn’t want to seem as if he was addicted to the pills that magically melted away his pain, as he was far from it…most of the time.
This sheepishness had led to his current problem – Kacchan. Katsuki. Blasty. Whatever you wanted to call him.
Right now, Kacchan was Izuku’s problem.
It had been innocent, of course, when he’d first found himself seeking Kacchan out as a form of pain relief. The blonde-haired boy was warm, after all. Like a personal heating pad to drag away the pain that was Izuku’s entire mind and being.
He didn’t even know what had possessed him to do so, that first time. Kacchan had been having a conversation in the living room with Kirishima and Kaminari, and yet he’d found himself throwing himself into the middle of it.
Or rather, throwing himself onto Kacchan and begging him to take the pain away.
It had been absolutely mortifying, but Kacchan had gone along with it. Hadn’t even protested. The two of them had even fallen asleep together on the dorm’s living room couch, bundled up in a blanket that Kacchan himself had requested all because Izuku had been cold.
And thus, Izuku’s problem had been born, because, and pardon his language, what the fuck?
Ever since then, things between the two of them had been different, and Izuku wasn’t the only one who had noticed.
“Bakugou seems…calm lately.” Uraraka commented one day over lunch, “Especially towards you, Deku.”
“Oh, um, you think so?” Izuku had responded, fiddling with his fingers under the table, “I um, I haven’t really noticed.”
Both Uraraka and Iida stared at him, implying that they knew he was full of shit, but neither of them contributed more to the matter.
Of course he had been full of shit. Of course. It would have been impossible for him not to notice that his childhood friend, turned tormentor, had suddenly turned back into…his friend?
It had been weird. Kacchan hadn’t spoken a word to Izuku the morning that the two of them woke up entangled in one another on the couch, and hadn’t tried to stop him when he’d practically exploded from embarrassment on the spot and all but flew from the room, either.
But then, then, Kacchan had asked, just after their English class, “Oi Deku, is your head feeling any better?”
“Oh, h-hey, Kacchan,” He’d responded, rubbing at the back of his head whilst refusing to make eye contact with the Blonde, “it’s uh, actually feeling a lot better, thanks.”
“Just shut the fuck up, will ya?” Kacchan’s voice bit out, though Izuku had noticed a lack of venom in the words.
It had been so weird, so out of character for Kacchan, and yet Izuku found the Blonde asking him that same question every day since the incident.
Thankfully, most of the time Izuku’s head had felt fine. He’d been able to get a refill on his prescription a week and a half after the initial incident, and everything had been fine.
Of course, though, Izuku was no liar, and on a couple of occasions, his head actually had been bothering him when the Blonde had asked.
Any time that had happened, Kacchan had frowned, and patted Izuku on the head and said, “I’m sorry.” One time, he’d even ruffled Izuku’s hair and told him he hoped that he’d feel better, which, naturally the explosive teen had followed with, “So I can kick your fucking ass in training later and not feel bad about it!”
It had been just, so Kacchan of a thing to say, and it had caused Izuku to break into a fit of giggles on the spot. To his surprise, Kacchan had laughed right along with him, and when Izuku wiped the amused tears from his eyes, he genuinely felt better.
“As if you could kick my ass, Kacchan. Migraine or not.” He’d turned on his heel as quickly as he said it, a pep in his step despite the throbbing in his brain.
The two of them had continued on in that strange pattern for weeks, the Blonde checking up on him, and the two of them exchanging casual banter with one another.
It had been nice. Invigorating, even, to feel as though Izuku might actually have his childhood friend back at last.
And then, you know, it all went to shit because that’s how things in Izuku’s life just tended to go.
It wasn’t as though the Blonde had stopped checking on him – quite the opposite, actually. It was that Izuku had started to look forward to their interactions, which was all well and fine, until Izuku began to understand the emotions attached to that longing.
And, you know, the fact that he almost yearned to be struck with a migraine just so he could see how the Blonde would treat him if he asked how Izuku was doing and found out.
The truth was, Izuku liked the Blonde’s attention too much, and he wasn’t an idiot – he knew that he was gay and had known for some time, but he wasn’t out to anyone, much less Kacchan.
He’d developed a crush on the explosive teen and had no idea what to do about it other than to feel guilty and ashamed of himself.
Every time he talked to the Blonde, that same guilt shone through and took a hold of his heart. Telling him that he was taking advantage of his friend’s kindness, and that he was taking things too far. Telling him that it was useless to feel for the Blonde when there was no way those feelings would ever be requited.
So when Kacchan asked him one night if he wanted to spar with him after dinner, no matter how much Izuku wanted to accept he declined, “Actually my head’s starting to bother me a little,” Izuku mumbled, “I was actually going to try to get some rest, maybe another time?”
“Whatever,” Kacchan quipped, “Just admit that you’re too afraid to fight me, Nerd.”
Izuku chuckled, “Maybe. My head is bothering me, though.”
Izuku definitely didn’t have a migraine, and he hoped that Kacchan couldn’t see through his façade.
He wasn’t completely lying though, in telling the Blonde that his head was bothering him. It was. His thoughts were a mess and he wanted nothing more than to latch onto the boy in front of him and never let go, but he couldn’t do that. He’d never be able to do that, and it fucking hurt like hell.
Kacchan instinctively reached forward and patted Izuku’s head, just like the green-haired teen had known he would, “Feel better.”
“Yeah.” Izuku’s breath fanned out in a whisper, “Thanks, Kacchan.”
Izuku excused himself to his dorm room promptly afterward, burying himself in his bed while he mulled over the thoughts that had plagued him.
It wasn’t long until he found himself in tears, absolutely beside-himself in sorrow. It was pathetic, he knew it, but he didn’t know how else to cope.
He’d never been in love before, had never even considered the possibility of falling so young, and he’d gone and fallen for the one person he’d never be able to have. It hurt. Everything hurt.
His phone buzzing on his nightstand snapped Izuku out of his depressive stupor long enough to check his messages, grimacing when he realized not only that he’d missed dinner, but that Katsuki fucking Bakugou, the source of his internal dilemma, had texted him.
Not just one text, either, but three sent in rapid succession of one another.
“Hey Nerd, you feeling any better?”
“Didn’t see you at dinner.”
“Skipping out on meals isn’t fucking cool, Deku.”
Izuku stared at his phone’s screen, contemplating his response, and if he’d even respond at all, when a fourth message came through:
“Fuck it, I’ll be up in a minute, try not to be dead when I get there, okay?”
And Izuku nearly had a heart attack.
Wildly, he threw his covers off of himself, and rushed over to his bathroom, wincing as he flickered the light on and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.
He looked like an absolute mess. His hair stood up in every direction imaginable in its untamable frizzy glory, and his eyes were even worse for wear.
There was no denying or disguising the puffiness that had overcome his green orbs, and he knew he was absolutely fucked.
Before he could mull on that feat any further, a knock came to his door.
“Deku?” Kacchan called out as Izuku stumbled back out of the bathroom, “You fuckin’ dead or what?”
“Coming!” He called back, his legs suddenly feeling heavy as he forced himself to the door.
When he swung his door open, he was met with the sight of Kacchan, in nothing more than a tank top and a pair of basketball shorts, his hair wet and unruly.
“Fuck Deku, ever heard of a fucking light?” The Blonde invited himself in traipsing over to Izuku’s desk, flickering the All Might themed lamp that sat on top of it on as Izuku shut the door, “I’ll take it your head still hurts?”
Izuku pressed his lips into a thin line as Kacchan turned back around, no doubt taking in the train wreck that stood before him.
The green-haired teen watched the Blonde’s expression change, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of realization, his lips slightly parted.
“Are you alright?”
Izuku almost didn’t catch the question posed to him as he let his eyes fall to the floor, tears welling up in them as his previous thoughts returned in what felt like a tidal wave that rushed through his mind.
“No.” He choked out in response, sucking in a deep breath before letting out a sob.
Before Izuku could register what was going on, he was being swept into Kacchan’s arms, his nose being buried into the explosive teen’s chest as he continued to cry, and for that matter, forfeit whatever dignity it was that he had left.
Kacchan said nothing, and continued letting him cry, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles in his back.
Somewhere in the midst of it all, Izuku felt his chin come to rest on top of his head, and the sentiment only made him cry harder.
“Do you want me to stop touching you?” Izuku cringed as the Blonde immediately released his hold on him, and took a step back, “What’s gotten into you, Deku?”
“’M just sad. Sorry, Kacchan.” Izuku sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe away some of the tears from his face.
“Yeah, no shit sherlock.” The Blonde rolled his eyes, moving over to Izuku’s bed where he promptly plopped himself down, patting the spot next to him, “But why?”
Izuku shuffled over, taking a seat next to his crush and lamenting at the way the bed dipped when he did so, making their shoulders touch, “Dunno.”
“Bullshit.” Kacchan – no, Katsuki, responded, “Somethings gotta be fucking bothering you for you to be acting like this, so spill.”
“I can’t!” Izuku defended himself, sniffling once again,
“Why the fuck not?” Katsuki raised his voice a little, “Come on, Deku, I’ve known you since we were four, I know pretty much all of your darkest secrets, what could be so bad that you can’t tell me?”
“Not all of them.” He mumbled under his breath in response.
“Hah?” Izuku could feel Katuki’s eyes on him, and he shrunk down a little further into his frame for good measure.
“You’re just nice, is all.” He finally allowed himself to speak, gnawing on his lip as he waited for the Blonde to respond.
“So you’re in here bawling your eyes out because I’m fucking nice?” Katsuki responded incredulously, “Fucking fine, then I won’t be nice to you anymore.”
Katsuki went to stand, but Izuku quickly darted his hand out, taking a hold of his wrist before he could get far, “No.”
“No?” Katsuki was wide-eyed and Izuku swore he could almost see a flicker of sadness in his eyes, “Damnit, Deku, what the fuck do you want from me, then?”
Izuku tightened his grip on Katsuki’s wrist, contemplating his next words as his heart thrashed about viciously in his chest, “Everything.”
“God, Deku, what the fuck does that even mean?”
Izuku – no, Deku, found the courage in himself to stand in that moment, drawing the Blonde back in as he released his grip on the boy’s wrist in favor of fisting both of his hands in the material of his tank top.
“Wha—?”
Deku cut him off, planting a kiss firmly on the other boy’s lips and effectively silencing him.
The kiss was messy, and Deku found that even in the moment, the moment he’d hoped for and dreamed of, he couldn’t stop his tears from falling.
Afraid to let himself sink too far into the bliss that he felt, Deku pulled away just as quickly as he’d surged forward, his face nearly emitting steam as he allowed himself to sit back on the bed, fists bunched in the fabric of his shorts as he waited for the backlash that was sure to come from the Blonde.
What felt like a million years passed by as Deku waited for the Blonde to do something, to say anything in response to what had just happened. His only assurance that the Blonde hadn’t left being the half-lidded sight of Katsuki’s bare feet on the floor in front of him.
“So that’s it?”
Deku snapped his head up, nearly startled as Katsuki spoke, “I—” The green-haired boy let his head fall back into its previous position, “Sorry, Kacchan. I shouldn’t have—”
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking nerd.” Katsuki smirked, hand surging forward to grab Deku by the collar and pull him back up onto his feet, where they burrowed into one another’s eyes, searching them– a staring competition that it appeared neither wanted to break.
Katsuki, surprisingly, was the first one to blink, and when he did, he tilted his head, resting his forehead against Izuku’s.
“You know, I really love you, you idiot.”
In that moment, Izuku felt that his earlier heart attack had been mere child’s play in comparison to the way his heart felt now, confused, excited, and so, so fucking happy.
“You--?” He whispered, stepping back to break their contact so that he could search the Blonde’s eyes once more.
“Yeah.” Katsuki, no, Kacchan, nodded, his normally pale face overcome in a blush.
Deku smiled wetly back at him, “I love you, too. Kacchan.”
“You fucking better.” Kacchan grumbled, before stepping back into Deku’s personal space and drawing him into a second kiss, one that was so much better than their first.
One that made Deku’s heart truly sing as all of his tension melted away at last.