Work Text:
Katsuki loved the nerd.
It had been an…unsettling realization, at the beginning, to realize that he didn’t actually hate Izuku, but instead liked the nerd. Katsuki wasn’t sure when it happened, and going back over any time spent with the green-haired teen, Katsuki couldn’t actually pinpoint anything. Instead, it was a small, growing tendril that had looped around Katsuki’s heart. The times he and Izuku sparred together, their missions during the War, the moments Katsuki and Izuku would cook together in the kitchen for the rest of their classmates…Somewhere along the way, Katsuki had gone from just tolerating the nerd to falling ass over kettle for Izuku.
And damn, Katsuki had it bad.
Of course, it was only made worse because the damned nerd was too fucking oblivious. For whatever reason, Izuku just viewed the two of them spending time together as a "sign that their friendship was doing really well!" As if. While most of 2-A had (begrudgingly) grown on Katsuki, he didn't just do shit for them like he did for the nerd. But Katsuki shouldn't be surprised. For all that Izuku was good at analyzing patterns and quirks, the teen was absolute shit at figuring out when someone had feelings for him. Katsuki would know, he'd watched a shitton of people hit on Izuku, and the nerd didn't even bat an eye. The fact that Katsuki had scared all those fuckers off right after was to be left unmentioned, fuck you very much.
But, for all that Katsuki loved the damn nerd, he wasn’t about to confess. Katsuki…knew he’d fucked up a lot in the past, especially in middle school. He was an asshole, he’d come to realize that, and no one deserved to have an utter piece of shit as their partner, least of all Izuku. And Katsuki wouldn’t make a move unless Izuku, somehow, showed interest. He wouldn’t put the nerd through even more pain than he had in the past. And yet…
“Kacchan!”
Katsuki turned around. Izuku was beaming at him, waving his arm in a ridiculous manner, as if Katsuki couldn’t see him standing thirty feet in front of him. His smile was so wide that it crinkled his eyes, crystal cut emeralds that held the light of summer. The breeze ruffled green curls, and Izuku’s nose and cheeks shone a soft red from the chill of the early autumn air.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, quit yer yammering.” Katsuki grumbled, not walking any faster than he had before. He didn't bother to stop the small smile from curling his lips as Izuku's smile grew brighter.
And yet, Izuku never failed to make Katsuki’s heart flutter.
‘Damn nerd, why’d you have to be so beautiful?’
1. Hanging Out
Katsuki was feeling a little restless. This wasn’t something new. Every so often, their Heroics class period wouldn’t be enough of a workout to burn off his excess energy. It was a side effect from his quirk, and while normally it worked in his favor, on days like these where he couldn’t burn off enough of this excess energy, it left him feeling jittery and more pissed off than usual. It sucked, but all quirks had drawbacks, and this was a drawback he’d learned how to work around years ago.
Still, Katsuki was irritated, and he needed a way to release all this energy before he blew something up in the dorms again. God knew he didn’t need Hobo-sensei heckling him for this shit again, let alone the rest of his peanut gallery friend group.
As he walked through the doors of Heights Alliance, he saw Izuku standing in the kitchen. Katsuki perked up a bit (though he would deny it to his dying day) and made his way over to the nerd nonchalantly, hoping he didn’t look as excited as he felt. Any time spent with the nerd, sparring or homework or whatever shit Izuku wanted to do, it didn’t matter. Izuku just naturally made Katsuki feel better. That, and the anticipation of a good spar never ceased to make his blood boil.
“Nerd,” Katsuki greeted, grabbing an orange from the fruit basket on the counter. Izuku turned to him, and Katsuki watched Izuku’s eyes light up at the sight of Katsuki.
“Kacchan, hi!” Izuku said. Katsuki watched him grab a glass jar from the storage cabinet they had in the shared kitchens, and he raised an eyebrow.
“What’re you doing?” Katsuki asked, and Izuku paused his packing long enough to hold up one of the jars.
“You remember how kaa-san and I pickle vegetables every year?” Izuku asked, placing the jar into his bag. There were at least a dozen more. Katsuki nodded. Auntie Inko did this every year, and the nerd always joined her. He’d never missed a year yet, if Katsuki remembered correctly.
“Well, Izuku continued, “Kaa-san asked me to come home for the weekend to help with the pickling." Katsuki withheld a sigh. It looks like he wouldn’t be getting that spar with Izuku, let alone time with him.
"Tch, whatever," Kacchan replied, turning on his heel. He paused at the fridge to grab a Gatorade. Katsuki looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Izuku. He’d just let the nerd know to say safe and everything. That wouldn’t be too much, would it? Clear emerald eyes stared back at Katsuki, and he swore to himself.
"Make sure to be safe, and all that crap, and bring some of that shit back with you, Auntie makes good stuff.” Katsuki said.
"Of course I will, Kacchan!" Izuku replied, beaming at him. Katsuki scoffed again, turning around to continue walking away, ducking his head so that the reddening tips of his ears wouldn't show. A simple conversation with the nerd, and Katsuki’s nerves were already settling. It was pathetic, really, just how much of an effect Izuku had on him.
Katsuki walked to the staircase to head up to his room. He paused again as Shitty Hair leaned against the railing from halfway up the staircase. He was looking at Katsuki with an understanding look, and Katsuki scoffed, annoyed.
“What do you want, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki asked instead, passing the redhead as he climbed. Eiji followed him, hands behind his head, smiling a little.
“You wanna hit the gym, spar for a bit?” Eijirou asked. Katsuki heard the unspoken offer in the redhead’s words, and took a moment to appreciate that his best friend knew how to read him so well.
“Tch,” Katsuki replied, shoving his hands in his pocket for his keys. His eyes slid to Eiji’s, the redhead waiting patiently for Katsuki to make up his mind.
“I’ll be out in ten,” Katsuki replied, opening his door. Eiji grinned, snapping off a two-fingered salute.
“I’ll meet you downstairs!” Eiji grinned, turning to pop into his own room. Katsuki rolled his eyes as he shut his door behind him. He put his school bag next to his door before flopping down on his bed. Katsuki stared at the ceiling for a moment, and unbidden, green eyes flashed through his mind, accompanied by a beaming smile and curved, flushed cheeks. Katsuki blinked, and then rolled over onto his stomach, grabbing his pillow.
He shoved it over his face and screamed.
2. Trips Back Home
Katsuki was heading back home for the weekend, along with the nerd. It was his old hag’s birthday, and she’d asked him to come home to celebrate it. Katsuki wasn’t a complete asshole, so of course he was going home. He’d bought the old hag an assortment of spices from India that he’d picked up from Ponytail, and it was wrapped up in a small, neat purple bag. The hag liked spicy shit just as much as Katsuki did, so he knew she would be pleased with the spices. (For all that Katsuki thought the old hag was loud and obnoxious, she was his mother, and he’d be damned before he let her think that Katsuki didn’t love her or appreciate her. Even if she was annoying.)
“Kacchan! Are you ready to go?”
The nerd was standing at the entrance to Heights Alliance, holding onto his yellow All Might backpack with one hand, the other holding onto a large red gift bag. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt that said “life of the party” on it. Katsuki snorted.
“I’ve been ready to go longer than you, nerd,” Katsuki retorted, though there wasn’t any bite to his words. He’d long stopped overly snapping at Izuku; it left him feeling like shit afterwards, even if the nerd himself didn’t mind.
“Ah, I didn’t make you wait long, did I Kacchan?” Izuku asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed. “It’s whatever, let’s just get going already.”
“Hai!” Izuku replied happily, pushing the doors open. Katsuki followed him leisurely.
The trip to the station wasn’t a particularly long one, although they were held up for a bit by a Villain fight. Katsuki refrained from joining, as did the nerd, because if there was one thing they’d learned during the War, it was to trust others enough to take care of their own shit. Katsuki didn’t recognize whatever Hero was fighting against the Villain, but from a distance, it looked like the situation was being handled.
“Let’s go,” Katsuki said, walking away from the crowd. “The old hag’ll be grumpy if we’re late ‘cause we were watching a Hero fight.”
“That’s true,” Izuku replied. “But still, that was one of the newer Heroes, Aqua—”
Katsuki let the nerd talk his ear off about the Hero (who had a lame ass name) as they took the long way to the train station. When the two of them reached the station, Katsuki shot his old man a text, saying they’d been delayed by a Villain fight but were boarding the train.
Katsuki:
17:38: We’re gonna be late, got held up by a fight blocking the way.
Old Man:
17:40: You two stay safe, Katsuki!
I love you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you!
Katsuki grumbled. His old man was getting sappy on him in his old age.
Katsuki:
17:41: Yeah, whatever.
17:42: You too.
Katsuki ignored the buzzing in his pocket, knowing that his old man was probably over the moon at Katsuki’s willing show of affection. Katsuki rolled his eyes; that’s why he didn’t say shit to his parents, they took any “positive emoting” he did and overreacted to it. Yeah, Katsuki knew he’d become less of a dick since he started high school, but he didn’t need his parents freaking out over every little thing.
“C’mon, Kacchan, the Quiet Car’s open right now,” Izuku said, pointing to the green car. Katsuki’s shoulders relaxed a little. Quiet Cars were instituted after the War so that the Heroes and members of the force who’d fought could travel in peace on the train. Before then, any recognizable figure was hounded, civilians demanding retellings of the War and autographs and every other fucking annoying thing they could think of. It got to a point where none of the then 1-A would leave campus to go home; public transit was too chaotic, and a lot of their triggers were still being discovered. At that point, the HSPC, with heavy pressure from Nedzu and the remaining U.A. Staff, created the “Quiet Car” on all trains. If you were in that car, you weren’t allowed to bother other people also in that car, and neither were they. It ended up being a place of solace for not just Heroes, but also the busy business-class workers who didn’t want to be disturbed early in the morning or late at night. Of course, they’d made the Quiet Cars green as a tribute to one of the Heroes that had been a pillar of support and the main reason the Hero side won. Not that the nerd fucking realized it.
The two of them boarded the Quiet Car, finding a set of two seats in the middle of the car. Izuku sat down quickly, gently placing his large bag down between his legs. Katsuki sat down beside him, holding his gift in his bag. The shit was expensive and easily breakable.
The train left a few moments later, and Izuku quieted down. He still could’ve talked (no one was about to tell Deku of all people to be quiet), but the nerd preferred following the unspoken rule of general silence on the train. Katsuki respected that enough, even if he thought the nerd’s mumbling and shit was endearing.
Katsuki pulled out his phone, going through his social media apps and news websites, idly keeping an eye on the stops as they went. God knows he’d get shit from the old hag if he missed a stop because he wasn’t paying attention.
A few minutes in, a weight leaned into his shoulder. Katsuki looked down, and his heart skipped a beat. Izuku was leaning on his shoulder, fast asleep. Unlike when he was awake, there was a slow, gentle peace in Izuku’s expression as he laid there, sleeping. The stress of being one of the surviving War Heroes was gone, left to be picked up again when he awoke. But the Izuku here, asleep on Katsuki’s shoulder, was carefree. Izuku’s face was smooth, the worry lines he’d picked up since the War ended gone, instead replaced occasionally the twitching of his mouth as he dreamed. To himself, Katsuki would admit just how much he adored Izuku, how soft he was for the green-haired Hero. And this sleeping Izuku, one free of stress and drama, even if just for a moment, was an Izuku Katsuki was very, very soft for.
A quiet “click” went through the car, and Katsuki’s head snapped up. Sitting by the door was an older woman, probably around Recovery Hag’s age. She held her hands up with curled, wrinkled hands, the skin sagging slightly. The old woman smiled at him, and Katsuki relaxed his glare a little. He was a good judge of character (even if he wasn’t necessarily a good person), and Katsuki’s instincts told him that this woman wasn’t doing anything particularly bad.
“Do you want the picture, boya?” The woman asked, low and soft, and Katsuki deliberated for a moment before nodding. A few moments later, Katsuki’s phone pinged, and he had a message from someone unknown on Twitter. He glanced up at the old woman before looking back at his phone and clicking on the message. Without his consent, he felt his face grow soft when he saw the picture.
The afternoon light shone down on Katsuki and Izuku. Izuku was looking peaceful, fast asleep against Katsuki’s shoulder. And Katsuki, embarrassingly enough, was looking down at Izuku with the softest look he’d probably given anyone, a small smile on his face. As embarrassed as Katsuki was at the picture being taken, it was a beautiful picture, and Katsuki didn’t hesitate to save it to his phone.
His phone buzzed again, and he saw it was from the old woman.
Hibari Akari:
I’ve deleted my copy of the picture. I apologize for taking the picture without either of your permission, but I saw the two of you and couldn’t help but take the picture. To be so young and in love as you are is a gift in today’s world. I hope you hold on tight to that young man of yours and not let go.
Katsuki willed away his blush. God, was it that obvious? Apparently, it was, since even old ladies were commenting about it.
Ground Zero (Bakugou_Katsuki)
Thanks.
Katsuki glanced down at the time. It was 17:56. They had another thirty minutes before they got to their stop, and Katsuki wasn’t about to wake Izuku up if he didn’t need to. Katsuki slipped his phone back into his pocket and settled back to relax, looking out at the view of downtown Musutafu. After a moment, he pulled his phone back out and went to his phone’s gallery.
He set the picture of the two of them as his background picture, then put his phone away once more.
3. Gifts
Katsuki held himself to a high standard in everything he did. To do anything less would look down on all the hard work he’s done, and the hard work of his classmates. He put his all into everything, embodying the phrase “Plus Ultra” in everything he did, whether it was cooking, training, or schoolwork.
And Katsuki held himself to the same standard when it came to giving gifts.
When it came to giving gifts, Katsuki thought carefully about what he would be giving. Gifts shouldn’t just be nice to look at, they should be practical too. What was the point of a gift that didn’t do shit for you? Katsuki hated getting gifts like that, and so he didn’t give out useless gifts either. Preach your own shit or whatever.
With that being said, Katsuki didn’t necessarily restrain himself to just giving gifts at specified times, like birthdays, holidays, etc. If he saw something while he was out that he thought would be useful for someone, or saw it while online, then he’d get it for them. The other day, Shitty Hair had run out of his favorite hair gel, so Katsuki ordered him a new batch. Sugar Brains had broken one of his whisks baking yesterday, and Katsuki had seen a new set of baking utensils on sale the other day, so he bought them for Sugar Brains. Katsuki had the money, so he used it. He didn’t do it for people to owe him or be “grateful to him”, that was just dumb shit. No, Katsuki did it because it made his class happy. Katsuki wasn’t one for being sentimental or whatever, but he knew they were all fucked in the head from the war. If buying someone something they needed would make them happy, then that was fine with Katsuki. (Katsuki wouldn’t admit for a long, long time that buying things for the people he considered made him happy.)
There was, however, one exception to this.
“Oh wow, Kacchan, look at this!”
The goddamn nerd.
Katsuki sighed before turning to look at whatever had caught the nerd’s attention this time. The majority of their class was sitting in the Commons Area, relaxing after a long, stressful day of school. There were no less than three pop quizzes, and Hobo-sensei had run them through a hellish obstacle course. Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, even Katsuki was pretty tired from the day. He did fine on the quizzes, but the obstacle course? Fucking brutal.
Katsuki reared back as Izuku shoved his phone right into Katsuki’s personal space. Annoyed, Katsuki batted the scarred hand, glaring at the green-haired teen.
“Ah, sorry Kacchan,” Izuku apologized, bringing the phone back a foot. “It’s just, look! They made a commemorative All Might set to honor his second year teaching at U.A.!”
Katsuki hummed in interest, looking at the set. The set included a figure, a water bottle, a bento box, a variety of stationary, and a lanyard. Yagi-sensei (as the man had insisted they all call him once he’d officially retired, if not Toshinori-sensei) was in his suit from the first time he’d taught 1-A, and the rest of the items were designed with U.A.’s colors. Overall, it was a good set; it kept in mind the needs of the students while also appealing to the desire of collecting new items. Their target audience was obviously students, what with the amount of school items the new set line had.
“Aren’t these cool, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, his eyes sparkling. Katsuki snorted. Leave it to the nerd to still be All Might’s number one fan, even though he was the man’s successor and talked to him nearly every day.
“I guess,” Katsuki replied, which they both knew meant that Katsuki did, in fact, think the set was cool.
“Ahhh, it’d be so cool to have!” Izuku gushed. “Just look at the bento box! It comes with plastic toothpicks with All Might’s catchphrases, and some of our senseis’ phrases too!”
Katsuki stayed quiet, content to listen to Izuku ramble on about Yagi-sensei’s newest merch set.
“Oh ouch,” Izuku said after a few more minutes of rambling, and Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Katsuki asked.
“There are so many different items in this set that, all together, the cost of the set altogether is ¥27,000.” Izuku said, deflating. “I have, maybe, ¥15,000 saved up? I was saving it up to take Eri-chan out next week.” Katsuki hummed.
“Shit sucks,” Katsuki commiserated. Izuku nodded, sighing.
“Maybe kaa-san will get me some of it for my birthday…” Izuku murmured before mumbling to himself so quietly that Katsuki could only hear the teen’s voice instead of what he was actually saying.
Katsuki glanced at the nerd’s phone, and the website where he’d gotten the prices for the new merch set. He quietly saved it on his phone for later.
0o0-0o0-0o0
A week or so later, Katsuki came down the stairs, a hand covering his yawn. It was Sunday, his off day, so Katsuki lounged in bed for a while before coming down. Passing by the Commons Area, Katsuki was not ready for the excited missile known as Midoriya Izuku.
“Kacchan!”
That was the only warning Katsuki got before Izuku fucking dove at him, wrapping his arms and legs around Katsuki like a fucking koala. Goddamn, if Katsuki didn’t work out as much as he did, the nerd wouldn’ve knocked him flat on his ass; the teen was fucking heavy , and Katsuki regularly bench-pressed 136 kg plates.
“What the fuck,” Katsuki said, too tired to put up with the nerd’s bullshit this early in the morning.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—” Izuku kept on repeating, continuing to hug the shit out of Katsuki.
“Haaah? The fuck I do?” Katsuki asked. “And fucking get off me, you’re heavy as shit, nerd.”
Izuku, thankfully, stopped hanging off of Katsuki, but he didn’t let him go. Instead, the nerd looked up at him with wide, shining eyes.
“Kacchan, you’re the one who bought me the new All Might Teaching Anniversary set, right?” Izuku asked, bouncing in place. Clinging to Katsuki’s arm as he was, Katsuki nearly fell over.
“Ne, Kacchan, you did, right?” Izuku asked again, and Katsuki rolled his eyes away from Izuku’s. He didn’t meet the nerd’s eyes, which was all the answer that Izuku needed, apparently.
“Kacchan, thank you so much! The set is so awesome, I love it, you should really come see it in person, it’s so much better in person than it is online—”
The nerd kept on rambling, dragging Katsuki over to the couch where the box of items was. Izuku plopped down, and Katsuki followed, not having much of a choice in the manner. And so, Katsuki listened to Izuku go on about each and every set piece the collection had, looking to see if Katsuki approved or not. Katsuki followed along, giving bleary reactions to whatever the nerd shoved in his face.
After a while, Izuku bounced off to show Glasses, who’d entered the Commons Area to see why it was so noisy on a Sunday.
A mug was held in his left peripheral, and Katsuki looked up to see Half ‘n Half holding it. From the smell, it was coffee, made with Katsuki’s preferred caramel creamer (fucking sue him, he liked a little sweetness in his morning coffee).
“Thank you,” Half ‘n Half said. Katsuki didn’t need the dual-quirked teen to elaborate on what he meant. Katsuki’s eyes glanced over to Izuku, where he was excitedly flapping his arms, trying to get all of his words out in a semi-understandable manner. Glasses was nodding along in the way that only a well-learned Izuku-translator could do.
“Whatever,” Katsuki scoffed, taking the coffee for what it was. Taking a sip, Katsuki sunk into the couch a little more, watching Izuku continue to run his mouth a mile an hour.
Katsuki hated buying useless gifts. There wasn’t a point in doing so beyond the fact that it looked nice.
But.
If it made Izuku happy, if it made him look at Katsuki with eyes of glowing emeralds and a smile that outshone the sun, well, Katsuki would buy Izuku whatever useless shit he wanted.
Just for that smile.
4. Stationary
Katsuki was always prepared.
It came with wanting to be the best. To be the best, not only did you have to be willing to put in the work, you also had to make sure you had everything you’d need. For Katsuki, this meant having his utility belt always packed with the necessary supplies—gauze, iodine wipes, and painkillers, to name some medical supplies; he also kept a few pairs of earplugs and handkerchiefs as well, to help with potential quirk-drawbacks. Being prepared also meant that he had everything he needed for school; just because Katsuki had already made it into U.A. didn’t mean that he didn’t need to work to keep his place. Katsuki wouldn’t say it aloud, but there was a reason their class was the top class in U.A.’s Heroics Department; their class was filled with the strongest and (fairly) smartest students in U.A. (Katsuki would begrudgingly give credit to his dumbass peanut gallery, even if they needed his help every so often).
However, because his class was so far above the average for U.A., Katsuki held everyone to far higher standards. They were the best of the best, and so they needed to act like it. For the most part, everyone did, and a large part of that was due to Glasses’ insistence on being “good examples for other students'' or some shit. Glasses was annoying, but he did make good points, and he was able to herd the dumbasses pretty decently; Katsuki wouldn’t have accepted Glasses as class rep otherwise.
And yet.
“Ahh, Kacchan, do you have a pencil I can borrow? I ran out of lead again.”
Izuku’s sheepish voice called quietly to Katsuki, and Katsuki clicked his tongue.
It was a regular pattern: Izuku would be writing his notes, incessantly mumbling and murmuring his thoughts about whatever their senseis were going on about, and then it would get quiet, and a few moments later, the nerd would ask for another pen or pencil or shit, because he’d run out.
“Shitty nerd, you always do this,” Katsuki said, digging out a regular pencil for Izuku. He passed it back to the nerd, who gave him a quiet “Thanks, Kacchan!” before returning back to his mumbling.
Katsuki grumbled, but returned back to his work, ignoring the knowing smile Shitty Hair was sending him.
“Yo, Kats, can I borrow a pencil too? I’m just about out!” Dunce Face called out from a few seats over, and Ears grimaced at his loud voice. Katsuki sneered.
“Ask someone else,” Katsuki said, not bothering to turn to look at the pitiful face the other blond was sure to have on his face.
“But you just gave Izu-bro one!” Dunce Face continued. “I know that you’ve got a pencil case full of pencils just for—”
Crack!
“Kaminari-kun,” Midnight crooned, and the blond froze.
“Is Bakugou-kun so interesting that you don’t want to pay attention to me during class?” She asked, and Katsuki snorted as the electric user paled and began to stammer out excuses. Still, she interrupted Dunce Face at a good time.
Katsuki really didn’t want the rest of 2-A to know that he had a specific pencil case for Izuku.
It started out as seeing some cool All Might pencil cases at the merch store last year, and Katsuki picked up a few, thinking that he’d use the cases as he wore them out. At least, that was the case until the nerd kept asking him for a pen or pencil in class every day. After two weeks of giving Izuku pens and pencils and not getting them back, Katsuki used one of his extra pencil cases to make a pouch just for Izuku. At first, it was just a bunch of random pencils and pens he had left over from packing his own supplies. But then, when he went to buy new supplies, he’d see little erasers and shit that he knew that the nerd would like, and before Katsuki knew it, he ended up buying shit specifically for Izuku.
And it was stupid, Katsuki knew, to buy a bunch of All Might themed stationary for the nerd. It was. It was a waste of Katsuki’s money, especially since he was only assuming that Izuku would ask to borrow a pen or pencil. But Izuku did. He asked everyday, and Katsuki quietly took pleasure in the delighted gasps Izuku would utter when he broke out of his note-taking-haze. More often than not, the nerd would talk Katsuki’s ear off after the class period was over, spouting off a bunch of useless facts about the pen or pencil, and Katsuki would listen, pretending to be bored as Izuku nattered on.
On the inside though, Katsuki was warm, content that his efforts to make Izuku’s life had made the other teen so happy. It was unintentional at first, but seeing Izuku geeking out over the stationary Katsuki would pick out, “oohing” and “awwing” as if each pen and pencil were the most fascinating things in the world…
It might have been dumb, small things, but making Izuku happy was one of Katsuki’s greatest pleasures.
Always.
5. T-shirts
Katsuki was always prepared, whether it was for class, for Hero Work, or for his peanut gallery’s dumbassery.
Case in point:
“Oh shit, Izuku-kun, are you okay?” Raccoon Eyes’ concerned voice called Katsuki’s attention over to where she and Izuku had been sparring. Katsuki watched as the nerd quickly tore off his gym shirt, throwing it to the ground as fast-acting acid destroyed a huge chunk of the teen’s shirt.
“Ahahaha,” Izuku chuckled. “Accidents happen, Mina-san, don’t worry about it too much.”
“Ehehehe,” Raccoon Eyes laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of her head. “I’ll make sure to work on that move later! I didn’t expect my acid to eat away at your shirt so quickly, actually.”
“That’s probably because of a few things, really,” Izuku started, crossing his arms, hand cupping his chin thoughtfully. “By chance, did you eat anything unusual earlier….”
As Izuku began his litany of questions, Katsuki could only stare. No one truly recognized just how ripped Izuku was, as the teen was always wearing layered clothes. But now, Izuku’s well-sculpted body was on display for everyone to see, and Katsuki couldn’t look away.
Now, Katsuki wasn’t a stranger to well-muscled people. Katsuki worked out with Shitty Hair regularly, and he knew the redhead had an absolutely ripped stature. Hell, most of Katsuki’s class was very fit, something that came with not only the War, but just being Heroes. But with Izuku…the combination of his well-defined muscles, the way his body was littered with scars, how the muscles in his neck flexed as the teen tilted his head…Katsuki was mesmerized. How could someone be so beautifully rendered? Honestly, Katsuki just wanted—
“Yo, earth to Kats, you good up there?”
Katsuki tore his gaze away from Izuku to glare at Eiji, who was looking at Katsuki with an amused look. Katsuki looked away, pushing down his blush.
“Fuckin’ shut up,” Katsuki grumbled. Shitty Hair grinned, folding his arms behind his head.
“Didn’t say anything bro,” the redhead replied, and Katsuki huffed before settling back into a fighting position. The two of them continued to spar, and while Katsuki was focused on his sparring, he couldn’t help but occasionally look over at the nerd.
‘Why does the damn nerd have to look so good?’
0o0-0o0-0o0
“All right, that’s enough for now,” Hobo-sensei’s voice rang across the outside field, and Katsuki relaxed his arms from his defensive position.
“Good work bro!” Shitty Hair called, grinning widely. Katsuki rolled his eyes, but let out a satisfied smirk.
“Not too bad, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki replied. The two walked back to the locker rooms, the redhead going on about his next workout routine. Katsuki listened, quietly deciding which parts he would take into his own workout routine. The two of them had different workout routines, because Katsuki needed to be strong and agile whereas Shitty Hair needed to be stocky and firm. Still, every so often, the redhead would come up with a new workout exercise that Katsuki could use for his own gain.
In the locker room, Katsuki went to his locker, opening his locker to grab his items. He didn’t bother to shower here, preferring the comforts of his own shower than to the public showers. Most of 2-A felt the same, as all of them were gathering their things and preparing to make their way back to Heights Alliance. Well, everyone except Izuku. To Katsuki’s left, the nerd was looking down sadly at his shirt.
“Ahh, that was my last gym shirt,” Izuku sighed, holding the tattered remains. “And I don’t want to use my uniform shirt, that’s just asking for trouble.”
“Shall I go and request for Momo-san to make you a new one, Izuku?” Glasses asked, waving his arms in that dumbass robotic way he’d never really gotten over. “I am sure she would not mind making one for you, should she hear your reasoning!”
“Katsuki’s got an extra!” Shitty Hair pipes up from Katsuki’s right, and Katsuki shoots the redhead a withering glare.
“Oh, really?” Izuku asks, his voice hopeful. Katsuki can feel his soul trying to leave his body, even as he turns to the nerd with a blank face (his resting bitch face, Raccoon Eyes had coined. She wasn’t necessarily wrong about that.)
“Tch,” Katsuki reached into his locker, pulling out his spare shirt. It was one of the dumb logo ones everyone in 2-A had received at some point; Katsuki’s was a black long-sleeved shirt with an orange x on the back and front. Simple but effective marketing, just what Katsuki preferred.
“Don’t fuckin’ ruin it nerd,” Katsuki said, tossing the shirt to Izuku, who caught it with a beaming smile.
“Thanks Kacchan! I’ll make sure to wash and return it to you soon!” Izuku replied, and Katsuki turned away, acting uninterested. Katsuki, of course, was the furthest possible thing from being uninterested. Katsuki had always imagined what Izuku would look like in his clothes, how they would fit the shorter, stockier teen. It had been a vision Katsuki would, in the privacy of his own room, spend hours imagining.
It was better than Katsuki imagined.
Katsuki, while not being as stacked as the nerd, was taller and his torso and arms were longer as well. This became evident in how his shirt fit the nerd. His shirt was a little tight around Izuku’s shoulders and upper arms, but the sleeves became looser the further down they went, spilling out over Izuku’s hands. The hem of the shirt went down past Izuku’s waist, hanging partway down the nerd’s upper thighs. On other people, it would look ridiculous. However, to Katsuki, Izuku looked good. Izuku looked good wearing Katsuki’s clothes, looked cute , more than Katsuki could have even thought was possible.
And then the nerd turned to look back at Katsuki.
“Thanks again Kacchan!” Izuku said cheerfully, raising a closed hand, trying to make it fall to his wrist. It failed, and Katsuki’s heart nearly did the same.
“Whatever,” Katsuki replied, turning away to cover the rapidly growing blush spreading across his face and cheeks. Shitty Hair shot him a victorious grin and a double thumbs up. Katsuki’s blush grew.
“Let’s go, Izuku, the others are waiting,” Half n Half called, and Izuku replied with a quick “Hai!” before turning back to his locker, packing up the rest of his belongings and leaving. Katsuki stole a quick look at the nerd, admiring the way his shirt swayed around Izuku.
Katsuki didn’t often give himself the opportunity to think of what his relationship with Izuku could be. It would do nothing but torture Katsuki, because the green-haired teen would probably never go for Katsuki, not after all the history the two of them shared. But tonight, Katsuki would let himself dream. Katsuki would dream of a future with Izuku, where Izuku would wear Katsuki’s clothes, would settle happily in Katsuki’s arms, rambling on about the All Might shit Katsuki would buy him.
Katsuki would dream of the future he would never have.
+ 1. Late Night Tea
Izuku suffered from nightmares.
All of his friends did, after the War. But Izuku, he’d always suffered from nightmares and night terrors. His childhood hadn’t been a good one, despite all the love and care his mom had given him. People were cruel to the Quirkless, after all. And Izuku, a young, defenseless child, was easy pickings.
Over the years, Izuku’s nightmares morphed, going from being tormented by childhood bullies to showcasing his worst enemies. There were, of course, the standard nightmares where he would disappoint someone important to him, whether that was his mom, Toshi-sensei, or one of his classmates. Sir’s death, for all that the man had been so awful to him, had left Izuku particularly traumatized, especially when his mind decided to throw Eri into the mix. Of course, the War came, and Izuku’s traitorous mind had a slew of new content to torture Izuku with.
For the most part, Izuku was good at shaking his nightmares off. He’d gotten used to shaking off most of his terrors, being able return to sleep after most of them. For the select dreams that kept Izuku awake, well, he’d stay awake, redirecting his thoughts to something more productive, activities that would take his mind away from his torment.
Then, there were the few night terrors that Izuku had. Unlike his nightmares, these night terrors would leave Izuku shaking, his heart pounding with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. With these dreams, the images would haunt Izuku for a while, painting vivid images in his mind that would follow him to the waking world, hounding his steps. For all that Izuku was a strong person with a will forged from adversity and pain, Izuku wasn’t easily able to shake these dreams off. Normally, he would drink a cup of his Mama’s special blend of tea, the soothing, familiar taste a liquid coat of armor, shoving the awful memories away.
But right now, Izuku wasn’t at home with his Mama and her tea. No, Izuku was at Heights Alliance with the rest of his friends and family.
He was safe, he was alive, and he was absolutely miserable.
When Izuku was able to get a hold of himself, he pushed himself up from his bed, gripping his comforter tightly to him. He didn’t really trust his legs to take him down to the kitchen, but the thought of being stuck in the elevator right now was enough to root Izuku to the spot in dread. So Izuku made his way down the stairs, clinging to the railing, doing his best to not trip over himself. He tripped over his feet a few times, and he’d had a few close calls that nearly sent him ass over kettle. But Izuku made it to the kitchen.
Gripping his phone and the flashlight, Izuku flicked the lights to the kitchen on, sighing in relief as the artificial illumination temporarily chased away his demons. Walking over to the stove, he grabbed the kettle, filling the metal tin and fumbling with the switch a few times. Soon enough, though, the kettle was heating up, and Izuku went to grab a mug. Well, Izuku tried to. His hands were trembling so much that Izuku’s left hand had to let go of his comforter to grasp onto his other hand. After a few moments, Izuku raised his hand again to reach for his mug. Only, it wasn't Izuku’s hand that grabbed the mug.
A longer, tanner arm reached above Izuku, grabbing his favorite All Might. Izuku startled violently, turning around quickly. He was met with a mildly startled Kacchan, the blond’s bleary red eyes sharpening as he took Izuku in. The blond’s eyes narrowed the longer he stared at Izuku, and Izuku shrunk back.
“A-ah, K-Kacchan,” Izuku stuttered out, his voice cracking. Izuku winced at the sound of his own voice. God, if Izuku sounded bad to himself , how must he sound to Kacchan?
“Budge over,” Kacchan said, and while the blond’s words weren’t the nicest thing to hear, the blond’s unusually gentle tone was enough of a shock to Izuku’s system that he followed the blond’s request without much thought.
The blond reached for an unmarked box of tea, one that he’d made sure to warn everyone from touching, and Izuku watched the blond wearily.
“Kacchan—”
“Go sit down,” Kacchan ordered, talking to Izuku in the same gentle tone he had before. Izuku opened his mouth, but Kacchan sent him a look. There was something in the blond’s ruby eyes that gave Izuku pause. It was enough to have Izuku nod and make his way out to the couch in the Commons Area. It probably wasn’t where Kacchan really wanted Izuku to sit, but right now, Izuku wanted the comfort of the couches, and so Izuku went to sit out there.
For a few moments, Izuku lost himself to his thoughts unwillingly. He drowned in the haunting images, watching as Mirio-senpai bled to death, as Eri was taken away from him, as Sir’s cold body laid on the ground, unmoving—
“—Izuku,”
Izuku snapped his head up, looking once again to furrowed ruby eyes. Kacchan stood by him, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. Involuntarily, Izuku took a deep breath in, and his eyes widened at the familiar scent coming from the steaming mug. Izuku looked up at Kacchan, eyes wide and questioning.
“I asked Auntie to teach me how to make this blend,” Kacchan answered, handing Izuku the mug. Izuku took it, taking a sip. Izuku’s eyes fluttered shut as the familiar, comforting scent of his Mama’s special brand of tea went down his throat, encompassing him whole. Izuku felt more than saw Kacchan sit next to him on the couch, but Izuku only took the blond’s presence as a quiet support as Izuku tried to put himself back together.
It was quiet in the Commons Area for a while, Izuku sipping his tea, letting the warmth travel through his body, chasing away the worst of his terrors. After a while, Izuku looked up from his mug to Kacchan, who was staring off into space, thinking about something. Izuku opened his mouth, wanting to thank and apologize to Kacchan for staying with him.
“Don’t bother,” Kacchan said, and Izuku blinked. Kacchan gazed down at Izuku, his eyes shining with an unusual warmth.
“But—” Izuku began to protest, but the blond shook his head quietly, and Izuku let the words die. Izuku set his mug down on the table, hands grabbing the ends of his comforter, bringing it around him more firmly.
“You don’t have to explain shit to me, and you don’t have to thank me either,” Kacchan said. “You help the others with their shit, you should let someone help you for once. You don’t need to suffer alone, Izuku.”
Izuku didn’t know what tipped him over. It could be the way Kacchan’s tone was low and gentle, it could be how his words offered to take on Izuku’s burden, or it could be the blond’s rare use of Izuku’s actual name. Whatever it was, it crumbled Izuku’s fragile walls, and Izuku found himself crying, his shoulders shaking with the intensity. And when Katsuki gently grabbed Izuku’s shoulder to tuck Izuku into his side, Izuku cried even harder. The security of Kacchan’s arm around his back, the familiar smell of caramel floating into Izuku’s nose, the warmth of Kacchan’s hand on the back of his neck—all of this, it made Izuku feel so safe, so comforted and so, so secure. And Izuku let Kacchan comfort him, let the blond take care of him as Izuku’s walls came down. It had been so long since someone besides his mom had seen Izuku so weak, so long since Izuku had let anyone truly see Izuku like this, a weeping, pitiful mess of a Hero. But if it had to be anyone, Izuku was glad it was Kacchan that was there to comfort him.
As they sat there, Izuku felt the unique comfort that only Kacchan could give him. The one who Izuku trusted to have his back whenever and wherever, the one to push Izuku to new heights every time they sparred, the one to always listen to Izuku’s dumb ramblings about pencils and pens and stationary…the one who Izuku trusted above everyone else. Izuku let those thoughts fill him, pushing his demons away to the darkest corners of his mind, Kacchan’s caramel-infused warmth a balm to his tattered nerves.
Izuku didn’t know how long he sat there, curled into Kacchan’s side. But eventually, the tears stopped, and Izuku was left leaning against Kacchan, listening to the blond’s rhythmic heartbeat. Izuku was content to stay tucked into the blond for a while longer, but he felt Kacchan stifle a yawn. Izuku decided then to shift from Kacchan, and while the blond let him go easily enough, Izuku felt as if the blond’s hand lingered on his arm for a bit longer than the rest of his arm.
Lifting himself from the, rather comfortable, indent he’d made in Kacchan’s side, Izuku looked up to Kacchan. Kacchan’s eyes were a tired but oh so warm ruby, the artificial lights of the Commons Area only making the blond’s eyes shine more clearly.
“Better?” Kacchan asked, and Izuku nodded.
“Thank you, Kacchan,” Izuku replied, and Kacchan nodded, standing up from the couch and stretching. Izuku watched as the blond’s arms reached up towards the ceiling, his shirt riding up slightly. Izuku stood up from the couch, teetering as the blood rushed to his legs all at once. Kacchan’s hands grasped Izuku’s shoulders, keeping him still. Kacchan’s hands, which were strong and powerful and so large against Izuku’s shoulders.
“Be careful,” Kacchan said, letting go of Izuku. Kacchan walked away, and Izuku stared at the blond, his heart thumping very fast. Izuku stood there for a moment, his shoulders tingling from the lingering warmth of Kacchan’s hands. Had Kacchan’s hands always been so big, and had they always been so warm?
“You coming?” Kacchan asked, and Izuku blinked a few times. He nodded, his bare feet padding against the floor. As Izuku reached the blond, and Kacchan began walking again, Izuku couldn’t help but glance at the blond. The planes of the blond’s face were softer, and his normally decently-maintained hair was all over the place. Kacchan noticed Izuku’s gaze and sent him a raised eyebrow.
“There something on my face?” Kacchan asked, and Izuku shook his head quickly.
“No, nothing, I was just thinking about something, that’s all,” Izuku shot off, and Kacchan lightly huffed before looking forward again. When the blond made it to his floor, he turned to Izuku.
“Night Kacchan,” Izuku said quietly, a small smile on his face.
“‘Night, ‘Zuku,” Kacchan replied quietly. And before Izuku could say anything else, Kacchan smiled at him. It was soft and small and so very, very warm. Izuku felt his breath leave him; he’d never seen such an expression on Kacchan’s face.
The blond left the elevator, and Izuku watched as the blond’s back disappeared behind the metal doors. As they shut, Izuku felt the blush he’d been holding back overtake his face.
Had…had Kacchan always been so beautiful?
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