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Katsuki grunts on impact as Deku barrels into him excitedly, like a giant puppydog that doesn't know its own strength.
He was underneath the awning of Aldera Junior High, one of the last students there besides the sports kids and the class reps who had to do whatever bullshit it is that they do.
Still, they were all inside the building. So it's quiet enough that, when Deku takes a moment to nuzzle his face against the spiky softness of Katsuki's hair, Katsuki can hear Izuku's heartbeat.
Strong and steady, a deep 'thump, thump, thump' that makes Katsuki's own pick up in speed.
He hears it more clearly in his wrist when Deku lifts his hands to lay them gently across the back of his neck and trace his thumb along the jaw, until Katsuki's nose flares and he can feel his cheeks flush.
Fucking romantic. It made Katsuki want to swallow his entire mouth so that he can chew his own heart out.
"Kacchan, are you ready?" Deku asks, peering down at Katsuki from his bullshit height of 6'4''. Second growth spurt at the end of his first year of high school. Asshole.
Katsuki'll catch up or die trying.
"Yeah," Katsuki grunts, ducking his head down to dodge the kiss that Deku tries to stick on his cheek.
Deku, undeterred, lets it land instead on Katsuki's hairline. The thinner, more bristly hairs near his sideburns tickle Deku's lips, and Katsuki is left with a vibrating laugh ringing in his ears when Izuku pulls away.
"Let me hold your bag?" Deku asks as he reaches out to grab it anyway.
It's just a briefcase, smaller than Deku's yellow monstrosity by a large margin. But he's learned that Deku will get annoying if he doesn't let him do some 'boyfriend' things, so Katsuki lets him grab the briefcase and hook it over his shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, pack-mule. Where are we going?"
Deku hooks his arm over Katsuki's shoulder and begins to gently lead him along down the sidewalk. With that same hand, he pats along Katsuki's chest until he snags his phone with a grin and unlocks it.
For as many times as Katsuki has threatened to change it to lock him out, he never has. But Katsuki almost regrets giving him the code, just because of that giddy look.
"It's not far," Deku is saying, gesturing with one finger towards the left as his thumb runs across the map on Katsuki's phone. "It'll be nice and quiet like you like. They even have booths."
"Took one of your other boyfriends there?" Katsuki huffs.
Deku looks at him, bemused. "You're the one who made me choose something private! I would have been happy announcing how much I love my Kacchan to the entire world."
"'Cause you're a fuckin' embarrassment."
And, as if that was a compliment, Deku perks up and says, "Oh, right!"
Deku tucks the phone back in Katsuki's pocket and sneaks his fingers, instead, to his backpack. It takes a bit of struggling because he refuses to let go of Katsuki's shoulder while he does it.
Katsuki ends up in a bit of a chokehold, and he elbows Deku in the gut. It feels solid, a literal wall of dense muscle. Katsuki digs his pointy elbow in meanly, until Deku curves his tummy away with a grunt and a laugh.
"Here!"
A gaudy red object is shoved in his face, distracting him from his attack.
Katsuki snatches it away from Deku's scarred fingers and squints at the thing.
A teddy bear. Red, fuzzy, and tiny. In its arms is a stuffed heart, and on its back is a box of chocolates (heart-shaped, of course) that overshadows the thing by about 300%.
"I would have gotten orange, but you don't like orange-flavored candies, right? This is a variety pack instead. Although, I know you don't really love chocolate— so it might be kind of a waste. But it's a holiday! And Kacchan deserves a nice Valentine's box, after all—"
"Looks like roadkill." Katsuki thumbs across the sewed nose of the thing, and the button eyes that feel like marbles. The fur is soft, and doesn't shed even when Katsuki scratches at the scalp of the thing.
And the box itself isn't bad. Covered in transparent, plastic-like paper and, beneath that, the box itself is outlined in white lace. Kind of dainty for a guy like Katsuki, but he couldn't say he didn't like it.
Deku always did have a different idea about him than everyone else, anyway.
Deku's shoulders drop, relaxed. More of his weight leans on Katsuki, and he throws his head back with his belly laugh.
"Does that mean you like it?"
Katsuki tucks the bloody-colored bear under his arm, careful not to ruin the packaging of the chocolates too much. It jostles noisily, and Deku looks half a second from stealing it back from him just to carry it again.
So Katsuki nods. "It's… good."
As if he'd just gotten powered by the sun itself, Deku's smile brightens by megawatts. He gets these ridiculous dimples when he smiles like that, deep and perfectly pokable.
Katsuki resists, and instead turns to face the sidewalk as if he was the one leading the way.
Deku sneaks a kiss to Katsuki's cheek, close to the edge of his mouth. It was purposeful, too, because Deku tugs his arm away and runs a few steps ahead to walk backwards as he leads the way.
Katsuki stuffs his hands in his pockets and glares at the ground even as he fights the grin off of his face like he's fighting a dragon with a shield made of paper lace.
The grin wins.
---
They make it to the little venue Deku had chosen for them.
And, of all places, it's a parfait shop. It's darkened glass windows to keep the inside cool on hot days, and small; cornered and squished by taller buildings on either side. Across the small street is a busier shop that's stuffed full with a line out the door— a bakery.
Katsuki squints at Deku, and Deku gives him a coy look in return.
"C'mon."
He leads them up the two short steps and Katsuki holds the door open for Deku's wide ass backpack.
The inside is even smaller than it looks. Overfilled with pillows and stuffed animals and floral banners announcing the Valentine's holiday, it was like Katsuki had been dropped into a love commercial.
But it's quiet, and there's only two workers and one other customer in the entire shop. Deku leads them towards a booth to set down their things, and the cushioned seats creak when Katsuki flops into it.
It's too big of a booth for just the two of them. Curved in a corner, faced in a way that they're hidden unless someone walked right in front of the table.
It smells like a park in spring over in their corner. Mixed with something sweet in the air, it's like he's floating on cinnamon-sugar clouds.
"Can I order for you?" Deku hums, chewing on an open straw even though there's no drink in front of him. "There's a cake I think you would like."
"Mm." Katsuki cursorily sweeps his gaze across the menu, though there aren't many pictures to bely what the snacks would actually taste like. Just flowery descriptions that use the word 'decadent' way too much, in his opinion.
"I'll also get us a parfait. To share?"
Deku's eyes are hopeful. Way too fucking green and bright for his own good. His gaze is impossibly soft, and Katsuki feels like he just got wrapped in silk and laid in satin.
He scratches at his skin to keep himself from looking too excitable. But he does nod. "We can share."
Deku waves down a waiter.
Katsuki watches how his school uniform shifts with him when he raises his hand up, how it strains at the shoulders. He'd really filled out over the years, and it seems his clothes couldn't really keep up.
Deku catches him looking and winks, face turning pink like a freshly blossomed flower.
The waiter arrives, interrupting Katsuki before he gets started.
Katsuki tugs off the jacket to his own uniform as Deku lists off a few items to the worker.
It's cool inside, as expected, but Katsuki always ran hot anyway. So that it doesn't drop on the floor and get dirty, he stuffs it behind Deku's bag, which is between them in the booth like a boulder stopping the flow of a river. He's careful not to squish his chocolate box, moving the bear to the empty spot of the booth opposite of Deku, on top of the table.
Katsuki leans across it, ignoring the poke of utensils and notebooks, and blinks his eyes slowly as Deku laughs at something the worker says. It's a muted sound, polite so that he doesn't disturb the literally only other patron in the establishment.
His lips look soft when they part in a smile like that. Smooth and dusky and plush.
Katsuki hides his own against the sleeves of his button up, suckling the lower one between his teeth to mimic the way Deku likes to nibble on it when he's in a tease-y mood.
"Kacchan?"
Deku blinks at him, just noticing the shift in positions. The worker bows their head quickly as they leave, still smiling, but Deku's focus has entirely shifted to Katsuki. As it always has and always will.
Deku scooches closer, so that he eclipses the other side of the bag. Katsuki gets shadowed along with it, and he has to pluck his head up to continue looking Deku in the eye.
A hand hovers close to his brow, and he eyes it carefully before he nods and lets it comb through his hair. Deku focuses on the tangles, first, and then lets his fingertips focus on the temple worriedly.
They're cold, colder than the restaurant. Bad circulation from turning his bones and his veins and his nerves to dust too many times.
"Tired?"
"Sick of your bullshit," Katsuki says, with no venom whatsoever. Deku can tell, because his eyes just (somehow) soften even further.
As if Katsuki is actually asleep and he's afraid to wake him, Deku lays the lightest kiss on his skin. Across his temple, warm to replace the cold.
"Sorry, Kacchan," Deku says, teasingly. "I think you'll always be sick of me."
Impossible, but Deku didn't need to know that. Let him figure it out on his own, when he needs to.
"But it's okay because I'll always be there to get on your nerves even more, Kacchan."
Katsuki snorts. It's a jarring sound, rising above the lilting music playing in the background. Inside, his heart is hammering at the declaration. What a fucking dumbass.
Only Deku could make a stupid sentence like that affect Katsuki so much.
He grabs Deku's wrist and shoves it against his cheek, squeezing it between that and his shoulder so that it gets trapped there.
"Yeah, well. You're fuckin' stuck with me, too. Forever, asshole."
The words are growled, said too fast and awkwardly. Like Katsuki had dropped them in a pile at Deku's feet and hastily picked them up to show them off.
Deku accepts them graciously. As if the words were dipped in gold and sprinkled with diamonds.
His face goes from pink to red, and Katsuki is reminded of the awkward kid that used to walk him to and from elementary when Deku was just beginning junior high.
He'd been lanky then, like Katsuki is lanky now. All bones and jumpy like a skittish rabbit perpetually in the middle of a street.
He'd always had a red face back then, too. Maybe from crying, or from laughing too hard when Katsuki would steal his homework to try to do it instead, maybe three years before he'd learned the material.
"I'm glad, Kacchan," Deku says, eventually. His fingers curve against Katsuki's skin, warming up pleasantly. Katsuki's own are sweltering. If they got any hotter, they'd ignite and explode like fireworks.
Katsuki swipes his palm across his pants to clean them. Squeezes the loose material between his fist just to steel himself.
Deku glances down at the motion, and brings his other hand up to press it against Katsuki's face. To comfort him, maybe.
Katsuki interrupts by shoving his own against Deku's face first. It's awkward, and he does it too fast because there's a soft 'plap' sound when his clammy palm connects with Deku's cheek.
Still, it fits there comfortably. Deku's chubby cheeks curve into the space of his palm like he's about to roll a ball of mochi.
Dumbass was built like a brickhouse and still had the babiest face.
Katsuki relaxes when Deku doesn't shove him away. Not that Deku ever would, not when Katsuki's heart was about to shove it's way up his throat and make good on that chewing promise from earlier.
Deku's hand, which had been hastily shoved out of the way so Katsuki could grab him first, comes to instead rest atop Katsuki's own.
He presses it firmly against Katsuki's, fitting his fingers between Katsuki's smaller ones and curving towards the middle so he can tickle at Katsuki's heart line with the tips.
"You make me so happy," Izuku mumbles, against Katsuki's palm.
As if he'd been released from chains tying him down, Katsuki knees the schoolbag fully out of the way, shifting up onto it so that he can atleast match Izuku in height.
"Deku," Kacchan says between his teeth, just before Izuku pulls him forward to kiss him silly.
Izuku always likes to build up to kissing. Likes to leave his touch across Kacchan's skin so that it can tingle and thrum with the feeling it leaves behind. He likes leaving a trail of kisses up his neck, across his chin, and just a bare brush of lips across lips. And he likes how Kacchan looks when he does it, eyes half-lidded and dark, mouth dropped open with the barest hint of a smile, cheeks flushed.
But, right now, he can't help going straight for it. Kacchan doesn't mind either way (or, atleast, says he hates when Izuku teases him, wants him to just get on with it), so he's already there with an open mouth and a moan.
Izuku is quick to shush him, feeling along Kacchan's shoulders and noting how the muscles beneath his button-up tense and subsequently relax. Izuku curves the touch lower, fitting his arms beneath Kacchan's so that he can rest them, crossed at the wrist, against the small of Kacchan's back.
They fit there nicely, especially when Kacchan climbs into Izuku's lap to take up all the space between his belly and the table.
Izuku tugs him closer by that hold, sinking down low so that Kacchan, for once, has to dip his head down to kiss him back.
Their lips move across one another, connecting them together more solidly than a red thread of fate could in that moment. Kacchan is concentrating hard on the moment, Izuku can tell because he begins to minutely rock back and forth the motions of his breath. He always kissed Izuku like he had something to prove, but Izuku was just happy to hold him. To love him.
Still, Kacchan kisses him so deeply, like he's trying to transmit every one of his thoughts directly into Izuku's temporal lobe, that Izuku gets lost in the current that is Kacchan's desire.
Static from the seat zaps the back of his neck when he slides in the booth more, gathering it by his hair rubbing against the leather. He pulls his hand away to pat at his nape, but Kacchan tugs it back before it gets very far.
He encourages Izuku to grab a handful of his thigh, lifting up a few inches so that his fingers can curve comfortably around the underside. For himself, Kacchan busies himself with sneaking his fingers beneath Izuku's blazer to try to fit it past his shoulders.
Izuku doesn't realize he's still sliding down the seat until his feet hit the other side of the booth, and he breaks the kiss to laugh when Kacchan flinches at the dull noise.
"Sorry," Izuku whispers, leaning over to glance past the barrier of the booth. "We should probably slow down before we kicked out before you even get to taste—"
"Shut up," Kacchan says, also in a whisper. His soft fingers come back to Izuku's cheeks and press them in so that Izuku's lips pop out.
Izuku laughs again, and it gets muffled when Kacchan kisses the noise away.
Warmth furls around Izuku's chest, like love had grown a physical form and decided to wrap itself around his ribcage as the first thing it did. He can't breathe in too deep, or else he's afraid he'll melt right in Katsuki's hands.
He feels along the cascading dip of Kacchan's spine, all the way up to the shoulderblades. He's been working out recently, eager to join Izuku at U.A. and surpass him before Izuku graduates.
It's been paying off, little by little. He's still tiny, not that he'd ever say so. But it's true, especially when he fits himself in Izuku's arms and lets himself get cradled there as he swallows down his soft, breathy sounds.
Izuku writhes in his seat. He blinks his eyes open to find Kacchan already looking at him with a grin.
"You get like this just 'cause of one little kiss? Virgin."
Izuku doesn't mention that they took each other's virginities.
Kacchan's face is bright red, lips not exactly kiss-swollen but close enough. Still, his smirk is wide enough that the tips of his sharper teeth peek out between his pink lips.
"Kacchan," Izuku huffs. Kacchan settles his weight fully on Izuku's lap, carefully angled away from that spot with a quick pat on the hip from Izuku's hand.
They were already being too forward as it is.
Still, Izuku shifts upwards so that he's sitting correctly in his seat, just so that he can peck Katsuki across the lips properly.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Kacchan."
There's the gentle clack of hard-soled shoes across the floor as the waiter approaches with their food, and Izuku hurriedly shoos Kacchan back into the booth as he takes off his jacket like Kacchan wanted.
Though, unlike what Katsuki is expecting (which is him hiding his kiss boner with his wadded up uniform), Izuku drops the jacket across Katsuki's shoulders and tucks the sleeves firmly across his lap.
The waiter arrives just as Izuku has smoothed out his own shirt again, swiping his big hands across his curly hair to fluff it out.
Katsuki buries his face against the collar of the jacket. It's warm like he's a tea kettle over a freshly stoked fire. It's a good thing his belly is empty or else— pfft no.
Izuku is once again making nice with the waiter as they explain the order, handing off two long spoons to each of them. Izuku already has his own shoved between his lips before Katsuki even grabs for his.
He lays it on the table, resting his chin in his hand as a large slice of cake is slid in the empty area of the booth opposite of them. In front of the red bear that is laying half on its side, kept upright only by the heavy chocolates weighing it down.
With a snort, Katsuki sidles closer to the school bag to get back on his portion of the booth.
Izuku reaches out to stop him, bowing his head in thanks to the waiter as they head off.
Katsuki, just to tease, dodges the touch and only gets two paces further before Izuku whines and drags him back, leaning his full weight across Katsuki's back to smother him in butterfly kisses.
They focus mostly on his jaw, unable to get at his face with the position, but Izuku takes what he can get and peppers each smooch thoroughly across Katsuki's skin until the latter shrieks like a banshee between his laughter.
"Idiot, you just said you didn't want us to get kicked out!" Katsuki gripes, twisting in Izuku's grip just to grit his teeth right in Izuku's face.
Izuku lets his hold loosen, one arm behind Katsuki's back. Katsuki trails his own across Izuku's and tucks his fingers in the back pocket that's closest to him.
"I can't help it when I'm with you, Kacchan. All I wanna do is kiss you!"
"I hate you," Katsuki says, resolutely. He leans his head against Izuku's shoulder and gestures at the parfait in front of them. "Now let's fuckin' eat this junk already."
It's tall, with mostly pink fruit to keep up with the theme of the holiday. Strawberries and syrupy peaches cover the top of the pink ice cream, color offset by white powdered sugar and dark brown chocolate shavings sprinkled on top. The cup itself is lined in chocolate drizzle, in a wavy pattern that gets a bit smeared when Izuku pokes his spoon into the top.
There's also a little heart shaped cookie on top.
"Look how pretty it is, Kacchan!" Izuku says excitedly. He carefully wipes excess whipped cream off of the rim of the tall glass and laps it off his thumb. Some smudges at the edge of his lip.
Katsuki lets out a fond sigh and gestures him forward.
Izuku comes to him willingly, always happy for whatever it is Katsuki gives to him.
Instead of kissing him again, Katsuki swipes the whipped cream up to instead smear it directly across Izuku's freckled cheek. Only two of his more prominent ones get covered completely, but it dissolves the two of them into a fit of giggles anyway.
"Kacchan!" Izuku wipes off the mess with the back of his sleeve, completely disregarding the perfectly good handkerchief he has tucked in his back pocket. Katsuki can feel it brushing against his fingertips when Izuku shifts forward to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the parfait again.
Katsuki watches him for a moment, and feels his insides shift with a bursting need to tell Izuku right now that he loves him so much that his very soul belongs in Izuku's strong, mangled, soft, gentle hands.
Somehow, the idiot has powdered sugar in his hair.
Katsuki grabs for his briefcase and flicks it open as Izuku takes his first bite, chirring happily like a bird that just learned how to fly.
When he pulls out the small chocolate box, Izuku cuts off abruptly.
"Kacchan?" The name is garbled around the spoon, but the inflection is clear. Hesitant, yearning. Disbelieving. It's just a simple box wrapped in a ribbon, but Izuku wants to treasure it immediately like it's his first autograph from a hero.
"Made this for you," Katsuki says, gruffly. He shoves it across the table, and it slides right into Izuku's hand.
Despite the size, the box is a bit heavy. Izuku weighs it for a moment, eyes already brimming with tears.
Katsuki grimaces, turning away to tug the parfait close to himself instead and swirls up a bite of strawberry flavored ice cream with one of the peaches, shoving it in his mouth instead of explaining further.
"Can I…" Izuku pauses to wet his lips, and they're doing that thing where he's caught between a smile and a grin; between overjoyed and overwhelmed. "Can I open it?"
"Just said I made it for you," Katsuki mumbles, swallowing the ice cream down too fast. It melts in his throat and leaves an empty spot that fills with tense nervousness.
He takes another bite of ice cream to fill it as Izuku carefully unravels the present.
And, on the inside of the simple black box, is a plain chocolate. Homemade, of course, and hard-shelled. It was a bitch to temper, but the shine came out well if Katsuki did say so himself.
The top is outlined with a white chocolate heart, and the message inside of it is a mix of white and dark chocolate— because Izuku didn't actually like the taste of white chocolate. Katsuki taste-tested it a million times to make sure he couldn't taste it more than the rest of the chocolate but…
Katsuki rubs his sweaty palms across his thighs again.
The message simply says, 'To my Number One hero.'
Because Katsuki wasn't… couldn't actually convince himself to do the lovey-dovey shit. The heart shape was pushing it but… he knew Izuku would do something that would make him feel like this, so. He had to.
Katsuki bites his tongue to quiet his own nervous thoughts. Shit, he was hanging around the nerd too much.
Izuku likes it, though. Because he's crying harder, laying the box on the table so that he doesn't crush the edges when it becomes too much for him.
"Kacchan, you're—" Izuku interrupts himself with a sniffle. And then a soft sob.
"Deku, don't fuckin' cry," Katsuki says, only mildly panicking.
He's just begun preparing himself to crawl back in Izuku's lap and kiss the tears away himself when Izuku finally swipes them away with the edge of his already dirtied sleeves.
With a quick nod, he centers himself and looks Katsuki directly in the eye.
"I won't let you down, Kacchan. I'll become the Number One for real, soon."
He was still only in high school, but Katsuki had a feeling that this was a promise Izuku wouldn't break.
Katsuki had a lot of catching up to do, but he didn't really mind. Not right now.
Instead, he gestures with his spoon towards the homemade chocolate.
"Yeah, yeah. Better fuckin' hold onto it while you can before I take my title back."
"Of course, Kacchan." Izuku is grinning, and his face is red like it always gets (after crying, after laughing, after kissing). "I look forward to it."
Katsuki shoves another bite of parfait past his lips, and, when Izuku drops a kiss to his cheek for the umpteenth time that day, he lets a full smile grace his lips.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Deku."