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Katsuki can begrudgingly admit that he appreciates the way that Denki’s ambient sparks light up his bedroom at night. Especially when the darkness starts to feel a little too crushing, too all encompassing.
He might even go so far as to say he actually likes how the flickers look like a summer storm, light in the dark for a second then disappearing.
Reminds him of being at home, his childhood bed shoved right up against the window, perfect viewing spot for late night thunderstorms. Calls to mind the late nights as a kid he spent standing in bed, face pressed against the window to see the way the lightning lit up everything else for a split second before it all went dark again.
Better than thinking about all the bullshit they’ve been through lately, that’s for damn sure.
While he appreciates Denki being his resident nightlight, Katsuki likes the way that his entire dumbass group of friends spill into his room every night a little bit fucking less.
They pile in here most nights, some combination of them spread across his floor. Every once in a while it’ll drop down to two, maybe just Ei or just Shouto, Deku too if he’s not dealing with his own band of groupies, but Denki’s usually around, a permanent resident of the corner of Katsuki’s room.
He’s not sure any of their class really sleep alone anymore, if he’s being honest.
Katsuki’s also fully aware Denki likely doesn’t know he’s doing it, the whole sending sparks between his fingertips as he sleeps thing. Yellow lightning crawls along the blankets when he shifts, tossing and turning and flopping all over the damn place.
It probably isn’t a great thing in terms of quirk control either, letting his shit loose without fully controlling it. Not like Katsuki can talk there though, neither can a few of the other chucklefucks he calls friends.
But when he wakes up gasping, vision darkened overtop his already dark room, and needs something to focus on—well, the familiar yellow lightning is pretty damn easy to watch for instead.
From where he’s lying right now curled on his side, he can see Denki, passed out on the floor. Starfished across his own bedding and flopping onto the futon next to him, he’s always trying to get into Hanta’s—or Ei’s or Shouto’s or whoever else has the unfortunate privilege of sleeping next to his dumb ass this time around.
Like a heat seeking missile, intent on wrapping his string bean limbs around whoever’s closest and electrocuting them in their sleep.
Actually, that’s not totally fair. Nobody’s woken up from the nighttime lightning yet. And Katsuki would fucking know, ‘cause he’s awake intermintently most nights anyway.
He doesn’t think his nightmares are some rare thing that only he’s experiencing. He damn well knows that most if not all of them have trouble sleeping, that going to sleep and staying asleep is a privilege taken away from them all too goddamn soon.
But he appreciates the inherent comfort of Denki flickering all the same.
As he’s thinking that, Denki snuffles, rolling flat onto his back. The tiny arcs of lightning get brighter with his brush against consciousness.
When he blinks his eyes open blearily, lashes fluttering, he just so happens to catch Katsuki’s gaze from where he’s turned on his side practically gawking at him.
The yellow of his eyes catches the ambient light from the street lamps outside, making them glow like a cat.
“Kacchan?” he asks, the palpable concern at seeing Katsuki awake at this hour unable to deter his persistent use of Deku’s nickname.
“Mm,” he grunts back.
“You okay?”
He wants to nod, to say yes, to say go back to sleep, fucker. But he doesn’t. The way his heartbeat pounded in his ears not even five minutes ago when he startled himself awake still echoes in his head and he’s tired.
Instead Katsuki says, “C’mere,” and beckons Denki over.
He obeys without question. Sleepily folding all of his baby deer limbs, he pulls himself upright and totters over, eyes practically closed. His sleep shorts are twisted and his too big t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, his bright hair muted but still visible in the dark.
“What’s goin’ on?” Denki slurs, still only half awake. Dropping onto his knees on Katsuki’s bed, he shuffles closer. The ozone smell of his lightning clings to his skin, a weird touch of comfort.
“Nothin’,” Katsuki says immediately. Then amends it. “Can’t sleep.”
“Can I help?”
Denki might be annoying as fuckin’ hell sometimes, but Katsuki likes this. No questions, no probing, no matter how well intentioned. No pity in his yellow, weirdly reflective eyes or in his sleep-soft voice. Just a quiet offer to help, straight up and down, no bullshit.
He can help, is the thing. Easily. Katsuki’s pretty fuckin’ sure it’s a weird request though.
But Denki asked, so.
“Activate your quirk.”
“What?” he asks, eyes going wide. They’re more reflective that way, shiny and bright, just like his lightning. He looks a little more awake now and it makes Katsuki huff a laugh.
“Nothin’ crazy, dumbass. Just the little bits of lightning. The small ones.”
Denki hums, then shrugs. With nothing to lose and a point blank request from Katsuki himself, he shuffles into bed. Sliding under the covers, Denki presses his sleep warm body to Katsuki and he doesn’t shy away.
It takes him a minute to get comfortable, ‘cause of course it fuckin’ does. A lot of flopping and shifting and rubbing his legs together like a cricket. When he’s finally settled, they’re lying flat on their backs together, staring up at the ceiling. The street lamps dotting Yuuei’s campus send cool toned squares of light stretching across his room.
Denki hooks an arm through Katsuki’s, tangling them together, and then lifts his hand up above them.
Spreading his fingers wide, he generates a bit of electricity, just enough to make his fingertips glow. It immediately makes his hair stand on end a bit, being this close, but Katsuki can’t help but be soothed by it. By the warm light and Denki’s warmer body.
You already do help, Katsuki thinks but doesn’t say, exhausted brain looping back around to Denki’s earlier question. Just by being here. Just by letting me see you glow.
He falls asleep like that, fingers looped around Denki’s wrist, lightning flickering above them.