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Hospital rooms always prompt visceral reactions from Katsuki. It's a pressing, stomach-churning sense of urgency that keeps him on high alert, a voice screaming in his brain until he knows the people he cares about are safe. He's got to have them under his eye, at all times.
It's irrational, borderline manic probably, but a few close encounters with death will do that to a guy apparently, and that's just how it is.
As a direct consequence, Katsuki does an awful lot of self-reflection when he finds himself in a hospital room, the whole keeping-in-touch-with-feelings bullshit that his therapist keeps insisting on having him do to keep him from spiraling. He’s been steadily maturing over the last few years—he can see that.
The painful clutch that would constrict his throat whenever he’d try to express any emotion besides anger and frustration has loosened its hold, and communication comes to him a lot easier than he ever would’ve hoped. He can take compliments without wanting to crawl into a hole in the ground now. He can give them too, without having to find roundabout ways to do it. He tells his parents that he loves them and his friends they’re not that bad. Sometimes he walks up to Izuku’s room and they talk about feelings, among other things. He even takes advice from the nerd, and if that isn’t progress, what the hell are we even talking about.
But the annoying, fucked-up thing about feelings is that, once you admit to yourself you care about someone, you gotta realise that they’re their own people, and you cannot expect them to stay where you tell them to stay. They will run into danger, they will bleed, and you just won't be able to protect them all the time.
So now Katsuki sits in an uncomfortable hospital chair, asking to himself why, out of all the people on this godforsaken planet, he had to go and fall in love with a fucking moron?
Todoroki Shouto, that is.
At this rate, he will end up dead before Katsuki can muster the courage to actually do something about it, and wouldn’t that be fucking ironic.
Todoroki sleeps under the clean cotton sheets of the bed. His chest rises and falls slowly as Katsuki observes him; it offers something calming to focus on. His face is relaxed, unharmed except for a small cut under his right eye, but his leg is propped up in a cast, and his neck wrapped up in bandages, barely covering the purplish bruise underneath.
Katsuki’s gaze lingers on the marked skin and his jaw clenches, teeth grinding as scenes from the battle flash before his eyes. They were hunting down a gang of criminals that had gotten hold of some of those temporary quirk suppressant shots that the fucking Shie Hessaikai had. It was a large-scale mission, since they couldn’t rule out the possibility of someone trying to use the bullets against the heroes. Which, of course they fucking did, putting a whole bunch of ‘em out of commission, including Todoroki. Luckily, the heroes still weren’t outnumbered, so they could afford to keep the injured on the bench.
Todoroki was supposed to sit his ass inside an ambulance and wait for the shot to wear off. He was supposed to stay behind. The chief of police said it to him. Katsuki said it to him, but the bastard never fucking listened. After everyone went back to the fight, he spotted a little boy trapped behind the exit of a crushing building, too far from the battle site to be seen by anyone else. No one noticed Todoroki leaving, and by the time Katsuki came back and realised he was missing, one of those fuckers had already got him.
Katsuki only remembers seeing the boy cry helplessly in a corner, and Todoroki pinned on the floor, choking, with not enough strength to defend himself. It doesn’t matter that the heroes got there just in time; the picture is forever burned inside his skull, of Todoroki's unfocused gaze, of his arms falling lifeless on the ground. All the could've beens pile and pile on top of each other in a heap of shortcomings Katsuki never allows himself to forget about. It doesn’t escape him that luck had too much to do with Todoroki being alive right now.
Katsuki shudders, and refocuses back on the peaceful rhythm of Todoroki’s breathing. In, out. In, out. Alive, and still as much of an idiot as he’s always been.
Beautiful.
Katsuki relaxes enough to let himself drift off for a few minutes, but when he comes back to his senses the room is soaking in the warm orange of the sun, now low in the sky, and Todoroki is stirring in his bed.
Silent, Katsuki watches him from the vantage position the corner chair gives him, keeping as still as he can. Todoroki stretches in small, calculated movements, wincing when he bends something a little too much, and Katsuki doesn’t let the relief of seeing him awake distract him from his original reason for being here: yell at Todoroki for being an absolute nightmare and a reckless piece of shit.
It takes him a minute to lock in on Katsuki, eyes going wide with surprise. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but he doesn’t get any further than a wheeze.
“Doc said you’re not allowed to speak until your throat has recovered, so don’t even fucking try,” Katsuki growls, crossing his arms in front of his chest to keep from strangling Todoroki himself.
Todoroki touches the wrapping around his neck and makes that dumb, pinched face he always makes when things don’t go his way.
“Nononono, you don’t get to look at me like that,” Katsuki scoffs. “You know what, it’s actually fantastic you gotta keep your mouth shut right now, because I’ve been dying to tell you what a fucking idiot you are! What the hell were you thinking?!”
He paces the side of the bed to keep himself from actually shouting, but he feels like a cracked dam, moments away from bursting. He breathes, then keeps going.
“You could’ve asked anyone else—anyone. Why would you go and put yourself in a situation you should’ve been avoiding? We’ve been training for almost three years, you fucking lunatic—you should know that’s not how you deal with things."
Todoroki attempts to whisper a reply, but the words lodge in his throat, making him break into a coughing fit.
Katsuki looks into his tear-filled eyes and his heart clenches. He gets Todoroki some water, and waits for the cough to subside, standing right next to his bed.
"Don't—fucking talk. It was a stupid, asshole move, Todoroki. Nothing you can say's gonna change that.”
Todoroki looks pained. He knows that Katsuki’s right, but he still would’ve done what he did, because that's just who he is: a selfless idiot. According to the records, the kid was moments away from being crushed; any hero worthy of that name would’ve done what Todoroki did, but still it doesn’t sit right in Katsuki’s gut.
He feels bad for letting anger and worry fester in his brain, for that speech to be the first thing Todoroki had to hear from Katsuki after almost dying. He should probably sit back down and apologise, start from scratch and tell Todoroki he’s glad he’s still alive, that he cares about him so much it makes him stupid and angry and worried sick.
But before he can voice any of these thoughts, Todoroki moves his hands in front of him, gestures, and Katsuki is so taken aback he almost doesn’t grasp it.
“What was that?”
Shouto does it again, slowly, moving his lips to accompany the gestures. It’s JSL for I’m sorry.
“When the fuck—how do you know how to sign that?”
‘I’ve been studying. Practised with Midoriya.’
The sentences aren’t complicated, but Katsuki understands him just fine. He thinks his mouth must be hanging open a bit, because it suddenly feels dry.
“Since when?”
Todoroki thinks about it for a moment. ‘Last summer. It’s been fun, he’s a good teacher.’
“He never said anything, that rat.” Katsuki snorts. “‘Course he’s good—he started working on it when we were brats. Pissed me off that he seemed to learn even faster than I did. You’re not bad, halfie.”
Todoroki gives him a tiny smile, barely quirking his lips up, and Katsuki tries not to dwell too much on why he put in the effort to learn how to sign. The thought it might’ve been for him sneaks in anyway, making his stomach swoop in an annoying, embarrassing way.
For most of his life, Izuku and his own parents were the only ones he could practise sign language with. It didn’t bother him that the extras at school or the people around him didn’t know it—his ears were fine up until middle school, and the hearing aids he got from the support department at UA were so well-made he never had trouble understanding people in class or during hero work. Sometimes though, usually at night or after a long day, Katsuki craves quiet. There’s something peaceful about not having to worry about the rest of the world for a little while, but he finds he wouldn’t mind someone to share the silence with. He wouldn’t mind Shouto’s company.
“And here I was, thinking I could finally give you a piece of my mind without you interrupting me.”
‘I really am sorry, though. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but—’ Todoroki stops with a poignant expression, trying to organise his thoughts. ‘I moved without thinking. I had to do something. Sorry for making you worry.’
“You never fucking think, that is your problem.” Katsuki sighs, exasperated. Todoroki doesn’t owe him anything, but an irrational part of him can’t process—can’t even come to terms with the fact that Todoroki could’ve died and Katsuki couldn’t have done anything about it.
Still, he doesn’t want Todoroki to think he’s upset with him. He doesn’t even want to tell him why he cares so much either, so he’s gotta change the subject.
“Just admit it—you love the stupid bland soba they serve here, don’t you? Can’t stay away from a hospital for too long,” he grumbles, trying to lighten the mood. “How are your powers anyway?”
‘The doctor said the drug should be fully out of my system by tonight. I can feel them already coming back.’
Todoroki flexes his hands in front of him, palms up to show him, and from up close Katsuki can feel some of the warmth radiating from his left side. Long gone are the days when his powers were something foreign and ungovernable. It’s nice to see him like this, and Katsuki is proud, even if he probably—actually never said it out loud.
“Good. I’ll beat your ass if you fall behind.” He sniffs, secretly glad.
Todoroki doesn't take the bait like usual though, and that's something. The brilliant thing about him is how loud he can be while he’s not uttering a single word. His big, stupidly expressive eyes say more than most people can grasp, but not Katsuki. Right now he knows Todoroki’s face is all scrunched up and tight, and he can see there’s something burrowed beneath the surface, bothering him.
Katsuki flicks his forehead gently, and signs: ‘What’s with that face then?’
‘What about it?’
‘You look like there’s cogs turning up there and that’s weird for you.’
Todoroki’s lips purse. He fidgets with the hem of the bedsheets, and Katsuki pushes down the urge to hold his hands to make him stop, to comfort him, and simply waits for him to respond.
‘I realised,’ Todoroki signs, then stops immediately after. He looks cute when he’s focused, face flushed and bottom lip between his teeth. ‘While I was with that criminal, I thought we were too far for someone to notice. Hidden. I thought that I was going to die.’
Katsuki’s stomach churns.
‘And I thought it was a very stupid way to die, at the hands of a random guy, just because he got me quirkless and vulnerable.’
Todoroki pauses again, and he seems to take longer to piece together this one. His hands twitch as he thinks about what he wants to say, mentally replaying the gestures in his mind, and Katsuki just lets him go at his pace.
‘I started to think of all the things I would never get to do, like how you told us you were going to force us to take that hiking trip after graduation and that I wouldn’t be able to come.’
That punches a laugh out of Katsuki. ‘You thought you were dying and your worry was the fucking hiking trip?!’
‘I was thinking about you.’ Todoroki signs the you gesture with vigour, glaring at him. ‘Idiot.’
Ah. Katsuki’s brain stutters. He sits on the edge of Todoroki’s bed and it feels like the only thing he can do, he wants to do.
“Me,” he says, this time out loud.
Todoroki nods, looking resolute. ‘I couldn’t believe I was about to die and I never asked—I couldn’t tell you how I felt.’
‘And how do you feel?’ Katsuki’s hands don’t tremble when he signs that. He doesn’t scoot closer to Todoroki, unconsciously, waiting for him to respond. He acts totally cool and composed.
‘Like I really want to kiss you, Katsuki.’
Todoroki signs his name with practised ease; it fits his long, pretty fingers like it belongs there, and Katsuki can’t believe his fucking luck. He takes Shouto’s face between his hands and smirks to himself, because he fits in there perfectly too, all warm cheeks and hopeful eyes. Katsuki wants to give him the world.
His lips press against Shouto’s and the little noise coming from the back of his throat is worth killing a man for. It’s a clumsy kiss at first, charged with years of yearning and feelings repressed, now spilling out of them both.
Shouto grabs his shirt and pulls him flush to his chest and Katsuki goes, pliant—anything to have him closer, to touch him more. His tongue is cool against the heat of Katsuki’s mouth, but his lips are warm, hungry and inviting, begging to be kissed more.
Katsuki likes him so fucking much.
“Just in case it wasn’t clear,” he grumbles, so close to Shouto’s lips they almost touch. “I’ve been wanting to put my mouth on you for fucking ever, Shouto.”
The name gets him all flustered, which Katsuki counts as a win, and earns him an extra kiss and a smile that actually reaches his eyes. Shouto pushes him back a bit, to leave room for his hands to speak.
‘Will you kiss me again if I say it’s not clear?’
“I’d kiss you anyway, you dumbass. All the time. Don’t even gotta ask.”
Shouto signs a kiss for him, and maybe Katsuki feels a bit emotional about it. It doesn’t matter that he’s been pining for just a couple of years, that they just confessed their feelings to each other. Shouto fits around him like someone meant to be there.
Katsuki is still there when the moon peeks out of the clouds and the other visitors of the hospital are long gone. He’ll have to go back to the dorms eventually, but he takes all he can get, new memories to overwrite the images of yesterday. A nurse comes in to check up on them a few times, and she doesn’t snitch on Katsuki because he translates Shouto’s answers for her.
“You’re really not half bad at this, you know?” Katsuki says after she’s gone.
‘I had an incentive,’ Shouto replies, poking at Katsuki’s chest.
“That why you asked Izuku for help?”
Shouto nods. ‘I wanted to make sure I could always talk to you. Whatever happens.’
Whatever happens. A promise. Katsuki really needs to get this nerd out on a date, make him dinner, maybe finally tell him he’s his best friend and the love of his life, to make him cry a little bit.
“What was the first thing you learned?” He asks, mindlessly combing soft, dual-toned hair with his fingers.
Shouto thinks about it for a moment, then signs, ‘I love you’, ‘Bakugou Katsuki’, and, ‘fuck’, flawlessly.
‘Fuck. I love you too, Todoroki Shouto,’ Katsuki signs back. Maybe, from now on, hospitals will hold good memories too.