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The chill of ocean water splattering against his skin was nothing compared to the ice that seemed to reach bone deep. Izuku didn’t stop — couldn’t afford to stop, because maybe he could still get there. Maybe he could be fast enough that he’d make it on time. He could reach him this time. Save him. He had to. Besides, Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t a quitter. He was a fighter, a challenger.
He was Izuku’s Symbol of Victory. Izuku could see Katsuki so clearly in his mind, five years old, bruised and dirty from the fight he’d won before his quirk ever manifested. If Katsuki could fight quirkless, then there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even so, tears ran down Izuku’s cheeks.
He’d always been a crybaby so there was no way to put any stock into his tears. Even though he felt it; felt Katsuki deep in the electricity running over his skin. He felt him there. Felt him pushing him, shoving him toward the finish line where he wouldn’t be waiting.
Izuku hated it. He didn’t want to think about the implications of his beloved Kacchan being so vivid in the quirk that he still hadn’t made his own.
“When are you going to make that quirk your own?” Katsuki had asked.
“When you stop almost dying on me.” He whispered against the empty ocean currents. A faint chuckle filled the air around him and he could swear he heard ‘shitty nerd’ on the wind. He must be hearing things, he decided.
He could see land on the horizon. The arena he was supposed to be in cast a shadow over him, his tears felt cold on his cheeks. Just how fast had he moved? Not enough. How long had it been since his body had cranked up to 150%? His bones creaked, muscles burned, and legs begged to rest, but Izuku kept going. Kept moving until he was crashing onto the field, creating a small crater in his wake. He would make Shigaraki regret. He would make AFO beg for his mercy.
He staggered a few steps back, lungs on fire. His legs betrayed him and he fell to his knees, blood splashing beneath him. Katsuki’s blood, he realized. Best Jeanist was saying something but he couldn’t hear. Nothing was registering, only the bloodstained All Might card he remembered them getting together. Only the ache in his chest that burned from loss.
“Who’s gonna call me a shitty nerd if you die?” his voice cracked, “You gotta hurry and get up, Kacchan.” His fingers were gentle, so gentle for the mass of scars and callouses that had been beaten into his skin. They touched Katsuki’s cheek and he tried not to think about how badly he wished he could touch him skin to skin; feel the warmth beneath his fingertips. The warmth he knew was there. He couldn’t let himself believe otherwise.
Best Jeanist had his hands on Katsuki’s chest and he spoke again, trying valiantly to break through to Izuku. To force him to listen. “I’ll save him. I won’t let him die, but I need time. Get me time, Deku!”
That broke through Izuku’s haze. “Save him.” He repeated, eyebrows wrinkling in thought. Jeanist could save him? He decided not to ask how. If Katsuki could live and all Izuku needed to do was buy him time then it was a no-brainer. “Time.” He said, his mind faltering. Time. He could feel Black Whip peeling off of his skin like dark sludge. It seemed to wrap around him as if trying to protect him. From what? He didn’t know. All he could do was what Best Jeanist asked for: time.
Izuku would do whatever it takes to buy time if it meant he’d have even one more second with Katsuki.
“Izuku Midoriya, you’re finally here.” Izuku stands slowly, every muscle tense. One wrong move and he could hurt Katsuki. A realization struck him — he’s too close to Katsuki. Midoriya Izuku is a target and he’s too close.
“How do you like my gift?” Shigaraki sneered, his smile triggering something deep within Izuku. Something primal. He moved, rage filling him to the brim. Black Whip shot out—
Izuku jolted awake, sweat covering every inch of him and from the way, his throat felt it was likely he’d been screaming. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and panic was overriding any semblance of thought past that. A cold breeze brushed over his skin and he whirled around, a shout stuck in his throat. Black Whip was thrashing all around him, his balcony doors were shattered and covered his floor inside and out. He was not calm but the light of the moon shining on the glass looked like stars in the night sky and it distracted him just long enough for him to get his bearings.
“Shit.” Was all he could think to say. Aizawa would have to fill out another form for repairs, his therapist would probably want to pry on triggers or causes; dig into wounds that were already open and throbbing. Izuku’s physical wounds from the war had long since healed but the psychological warfare left behind seemed unrelenting some days.
“Agh!” it wasn’t a loud yell, just enough to release the tiniest amount of his pent-up rage and fear. Maybe he should talk to his therapist after all. A knock on his door jolted him from his whirling thoughts and the ocean he was so close to drowning in. He turned to look at his destroyed balcony door, the proof of his losing control. Black Whip finally settled, though the tendrils did not return to his body. The quirk merely stayed dormant, writhing on the ground or curling gently around him as if it were trying to hug him; to calm him.
“You worry too much,” he mumbled as if his quirk could hear him. It’s not like it had a consciousness but sometimes it seemed like it just did whatever it wanted. It could also be that Izuku wanted comfort and subconsciously used his quirk to do it. A smile played on his lips. Maybe he could face whoever was at his door with the cold comfort of One For All.
“Open the damn door.”
Izuku froze, because no he couldn’t face the man waiting for him to answer. He couldn’t face Bakugou Katsuki like this. Not with his room looking like a storm had raged through it; not with Black Whip still uncontrolled.
“No.” He said, though his voice sounded more like an indignant child than an 18-year-old who had experienced war in his first year of High School. They were in 3-A now with graduation not even a month away. Could he be a Pro Hero like this? He tried not to think about it.
There was silence beyond the door and that was more than a little disconcerting considering who his partner was. He relaxed slightly. Katsuki was his hero partner.
Katsuki was alive.
Izuku shivered, the cold winter air starting to chill his skin. “Shit.” He sighed.
“When did you learn to curse, Izuku?” He’d know that voice anywhere. Izuku turned to face his balcony, just now noticing the broken railing. Katsuki rolled his eyes, pulling himself up in an impressive show of strength, and hauling himself over the parts of railing that were still intact. Glass cracked beneath his shoes. “Your fucking door is locked.”
“I learned it from you.” He said. Izuku pouted slightly, “It’s locked for a reason, Kacchan.”
Katsuki snorted, eying the open math journal on his desk. There was a flicker of recognition and Izuku wondered if he was about to be scolded for only finishing half of his math homework. Katsuki turned quickly and Izuku flinched with a small squeak.
Katsuki made eye contact first, his confidence still unyielding despite the large scar across half of his face; despite the fact he couldn’t see out of one eye.
“Can’t believe you made me climb the damn balcony. Which, honestly, What is that shit?” From the look in Katsuki’s eye he already knew the answer. Izuku broke eye contact first and Katsuki gave a frustrated grunt, “Izuku.”
“Aizawa is gonna be mad, huh.” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching his cheek.
Katsuki didn’t press and Izuku loved that about him. He knew when to address an issue and when to leave it alone. He crossed the room quickly and climbed into bed with Izuku. They sat shoulder to shoulder. He’d dreamed about this; dreamed about sitting side by side with Katsuki. Standing side by side with Katsuki. He was so damn lucky to have the chance. “Kacchan,” he whispered and laid his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“Nightmare?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Izuku breathed in the sweet scent of nitroglycerin.
He was so damn lucky.
“I’ll have to wear a helmet to bed when we move in together,” Izuku snorted because he still hadn’t accepted Katsuki’s proposal to live with him when they graduated. "I'll get a custom design."
“When did I agree to that?” he said.
“You will,” Katsuki smirked.
He was right, though. Inevitably he’d cave and they’d have some stupidly nice apartment. They’d get noise complaints and their landlord would hate replacing the window every week. They’d get evicted. Or maybe they could just choose a hero housing option. Broken windows wouldn’t be a surprise then.
“Wait a minute, hold on,” he finally processed the rest of Katsuki’s statement, “A helmet? With explosions on it? C'mon Kacchan. Your parents are FASHION designers. They'd never forgive you.”
“They absolutely would and you know it." Katsuki rolled his eyes.
“Sorry you'd need a helmet," he whispered, looking down at his hands and wincing. He wondered if he was any different from the reckless kid who jumped head first into trouble. He looked back up at Katsuki, trying to find something solid to latch onto so that he wouldn't lose himself in those thoughts. It'd already been a rough night and he wasn't sure his room could take another Black Whip beat down.
“Izuku,” Katsuki stared, that vibrant red piercing through Izuku's soul. He felt exposed, as always, but he didn’t dare look away.
“Is it really okay?” he asked.
“It’s always fine. I fucking lived and I’ll always fucking live. You’ll never get rid of me. I’ll be a thorn in your side even in the afterlife.” Katsuki smiled and it was so soft and tender that Izuku felt tears dripping down his cheeks. He wondered briefly if he would even be in the afterlife. He had One For All. Would he die and join the quirk or would he die and join Katsuki? He didn’t want to think about that either.
“You could never be a thorn in my side. I love you way too much for that.”
“Damn, just had to outdo me, huh? Well, whatever, your love could never compare to mine.” He smirked before leaning over and pressing small kisses across Izuku’s face.
Izuku blushed, “Kacchan!” he struggled half-heartedly but Katsuki was unrelenting in his affection. “Stop it,” he whined before starting to giggle.
“No.” Katsuki kissed his forehead this time. Izuku gripped Katsuki’s black tank top with a strength rivaling One For All. He moved quickly and kissed Katsuki’s cheek then moved to his lips. Their kiss was soft and he could feel Katsuki’s warmth beneath his touch. He loved him with everything he had, and when their kiss ended it felt like it had been too quick. Plus, the smile Katsuki gave him after was so tender that Izuku could have died right then and there.
“Are you sure you want to live with me? We’ll have so many complaints about property damage.” He pointed to the broken balcony and shattered glass.
“They’ll just have to deal with it. My future husband is gonna be the number two hero. They’ll be lucky to have us.”
“Who’s number one, then?” Izuku hummed.
“You brat. Obviously, it’s me.” Katsuki pressed their foreheads together, “Izuku you’re it for me. So, move in with me, yeah?”
“You’ll never get rid of me.” He stated as if he was trying to get Katsuki to see the light.
“Good.” Katsuki gave his famous shit-eating grin.
Izuku chuckled, “Okay, I’ll move in with you, but that means you get the absolute pleasure of being the best boyfriend ever.”
“I’m not telling Aizawa about that," he gestured to the giant mess that was Izuku's dorm room. "I’ll be the best damn boyfriend from a distance.”
“Please don’t make me. He made me do so much paperwork last time!” Izuku begged.
“From a distance,” Katsuki repeated, pulling Izuku close and dragging him to lay down. “First, sleep. Aizawa later.” He mumbled, shoving his nose into Izuku’s hair and tightening his grip around him.
Izuku took no time to turn over, throw a leg over Katsuki’s hip, and snuggle into his chest. Katsuki had always hated sleeping on his side but that never stopped him from doing it if Izuku was the one asking him to. A cuddle session with his boyfriend? Katsuki would never pass that up.
“Why do you smell like lemon bars? Izuku, if I wake up and the lemon bars are fucking gone—“ a tiny snore stopped him and he let out a huff. Katsuki kissed the top of Izuku's head, soft and lingering. “Night you little shit. See you in the morning.”