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It’s one in the morning, but the breeze is unexpectedly warm.
He doesn’t really feel as warm.
It’s been long weeks since they won the battle that had been hell on Earth. Weeks filled with sleepless nights like this. He couldn’t stand to keep laying on his bed, but being outside wasn’t helping his racing thoughts. He’s staring at ground beta.
It’s mind-budging to think that when they first got into the UA dorms, it was to protect them from a bunch of villains, the very same villains they got into the sky for to really escape. And now here they are, hiding in UA to protect themselves from people’s opinions, and questions, and invasions- to not go crazy, really. Katsuki himself was never good with the press, and after such traumatic events, he would snap and break in half if someone breathed his way with the slightest inquiry about his almost meeting with death.
He couldn’t really say it, but being here at the dorms, at UA, with everybody else, brought him so much comfort. He didn’t really talk to them about it, but he knew these people wouldn’t judge him, and they shared these memories, this suffocating weight. He could barely stand being around his parents, not yet. They were almost fine now, but just looking at his mother brought him the haunting image of her crying- shaking and vulnerable and so not herself, hurt in a way that made Katsuki feel like things got too broken, shifted without hope of ever being like they’ve always been, all familiarity of his life lost.
“Kacchan? Why are you here?” The sound of Izuku's voice felt like being physically pulled from his thoughts, so much he almost shuddered with it. There was this fleeting thought, a sickening sense of relief that if something could remain pure and all the same, was Izuku's presence in his life.
He looked at him for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the stars. Pretty, bright, and unchanged. “Well, why are you here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Saw you through the window, so…” Izuku murmured, voice small in a way that had nothing to do with the hour. Katsuki looked at him, at his barely tousled hair, his dark eyebags almost seeming to carry real weight. The green eyes looked unsettlingly dull in a way he could have never fathomed just some months ago. It didn't sit right with him that this dark haze around Deku was something he was acquainted with. His chest tightens at the way they didn't even meet his.
“You won’t tell me?”
It takes him a moment to grasp on the question, and when he does, he considers being as curt and avoiding as he’s been. But this is Izuku. Deku.
“It's just… some nights are hard,” he feels when Izuku looks at him, but his eyes stay fixed on the plain, gray walls ahead, looking for the right words for himself to say. “Some days I don’t want to leave my room even after midday, some nights I feel- like, caged in it. There’s… that”.
There’s something weird of laying out his feelings to anybody, even if he’s been working on it. Talking about anything related to sleepless nights and nightmares and stress feels uncomfortable in a skin-crawling way, but Izuku hums, moving closer, and this presence is so familiar and right. As always.
It’s okay. It’s okay if it’s you.
He sighs. They stay silent.
A pause.
“Kacchan?” Izuku’s shaky voice cut through the air, charged with uncertainty. “Can I... could I hug you?”
“Hah?” Of course, Katsuki questions him, frowning deeply, and Izuku wishes he could simply take it back, curling into himself in utter discomfort. He felt really anxious about asking, but the night was laced with such melancholy he had the fleeting thought it would be okay, that Kacchan wouldn't push him away. And why? Of course it wouldn’t work out, he was right, he was getting greedy about Kacchan and their wobbly relationship. He should- he should apologize and-
“Tsk. Okay, fine. But don't get it into your head that now we're all cuddly and lovey dovey. You just look like shit”.
Katsuki tries to keep his serious facade, but looks intently at Izuku's expression, just to sigh in resignation at the sudden brightness in Izuku's eyes, even after being told he, well, looks like shit.
He can’t help the way his skin crawls at the vulnerability of knowing no matter how hard he tries to treat Izuku like everybody else, or even be meaner than necessary, how harsh he tries to sound, it comes off as defensive even to himself.
And he is defensive. It's like no matter how hard he tries to shield his feelings, all of them, Izuku will always see through him.
It always brought this mixed feeling of being invaded and being truly seen. Some part of him wished Izuku would be scared like most people and just run away from his mean attitude like anyone who values themselves would.
The stupid nerd knows him enough to know Katsuki's harshness doesnt come from ill meaning, and yet he's still stupid enough to not see just how much he cares about him in particular. Beyond his words, into his actions, his eyes, the intention of his heart.
And for all he tries to protect himself and hide, he should be happy about his obliviousness. But he's not, because, when will Izuku ever see just how much of a precious person he is? And then again, if he did, would he know Katsuki cares, or would he open his eyes to how much better he deserves than pleading for affection from an emotionally constipated bastard, and leave? How he deserves so much better than Katsuki altogether? He-
“Kacchan?” Izuku's voice cuts through the silence, wary. Only then does he realize they have just been awkwardly standing there, stiff, 4 feet apart, as Katsuki zoned out. Fuck.
“Ah... it's- you don't have to do it. I'm just- I just wanted-”
“Shut up. God, you- just, come here”
Izuku looks at him for one second, eyes suspiciously bright in a heartbreaking way, and then throws himself at him.
The moment their bodies meet, the blond short circuits and reloads and restarts because how could something feel so unfit and yet so familiar? So electrically warm?
Izuku rushed in, but he felt a little tense, nervously rigid. But the moment they naturally tangle and melt into each other, he relaxes into the surprisingly soft yet firm touch, and lets go.
They did hug for the first time in years on the battlefield, but it was the heat of the moment, all about reunioniting and relief, even his memory of it was all limbs, sobs, shock and pure force. Fear and relief. It was something of the moment. Once they settled back in UA… yeah, well. Things just weren't like that.
He secretly wished they were.
And here they are. He's lost to the feeling, swimming through his emotions, but he registers how without even thinking, they're perfectly wrapped around one another. His hands are firmly placed across his back and around his waist, faces hidden in necks and feelings knotted in his chest.
He feels Izuku cry and the moment his own eyes dampen he closes them, brows furrowed as the hole in his chest expands, threatening to crush him. If there was anything fair in this life, Izuku wouldn't have to suffer like this. He wouldn't have to cry so much his whole body shook this hard, he wouldn't have to ask for comfort and affection from him like he was walking on pieces of shattered glass.
If life and destiny was any more fair, he would never have fucked up his bond and dynamics with Izuku.
Izuku, who has the gentlest of souls. The brightest eyes and biggest, most sincere hero drive.
But how could he talk about fairness when he could never truly remove himself from Izuku's life?
Even now, he held on stronger, he wished with all his heart his hold could actually be the one to lessen the weight on the heart of gold stored in this small frame, with the hint of selfishness of wishing to actually be special to Izuku.
Back then when he thought over his apology, he planned on just letting Izuku know what happened was never about him. That every stupid shit Katsuki said was because he was wrong and fucked up. Never Izuku.
And he was supposed to leave it as that. He was honest when he said he didn't expect things to change, even for their friendship. Because despite his regrets, Izuku's forgiveness, they shouldn't. So why was he now wishing this gigantic but fragile moment meant progression, meant he could keep on attoning as Izuku's actual friend? Stay by his side? Wishing for his feelings to ever stand a chance?
As if he could ever deserve it.
Things did get better, but thinking about his carefully hidden, guarded feelings... fuck, it's too much.
Damn it, just being around him always brought this whole hurricane of emotions that never failed to complicate him. It was easier back then when he used to think the world was in the wrong, that he was so superior. Easier when he didn't see himself.
Easier when he could let it all out through anger and explosiveness and could convince himself he didn't want Deku around.
Easier when he didn't feel like if Izuku ever decided Katsuki wasn't worth keeping around he'd lose his grasp of life as it is. A piece of his heart.
He moved his left hand to caress through the messy curls, feeling their bodies relax as if in symphony, falling into a calmer, softer embrace. Even with his racing thoughts all over the place, he feels grounded. Overcome with something so human like holding and being held, warmly.
He relished in the comfort and calm in their touch, secretly happy in finding a way to feel like he could let out his feelings without straight out saying words nor messing with every muscle fiber he could reach.
Izuku sighs softly, nose nuzzling his neck for half a second, and Katsuki's heart takes such a leap he prays to any higher entity it isn't heard.
“Thank you, Kacchan,” he murmurs against his skin, not breaking their contact.
He hesitates for a moment, fearing his voice would come off choked up and frail and a ton too real. “Don't thank me for a fucking hug”.
“No, you-,” he sounds conflicted for a moment, and then, “yeah, okay”.
As much as he wished otherwise, he knows he has to cut the moment short. His body feels lax and for a feverish moment he wished to just carry the nerd to his room and just have them cuddle through the night.
“Do you,” he clears his throat, looking to the side in fear of being transparent as a ghost, “do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
At the curt answer, he frowns, eyes moving to Izuku's face on their own, looking for something else. At this, Izuku's eyes downcast, his voice coming off small. “I don't even know what came over me, I just felt so- so- uh, yeah. I don't know”
Katsuki knows he looks as unconvinced as he feels, wishes Izuku could open up and ramble about his feelings and be as articulate as his nerd ass always is.
“I get it,” he lets a weird, hard-to-describe silence settle between them, and he wants to speak, wants to add something along the lines of, you can come to me whenever you need to let it out. Whenever it feels too hard on you. Whenever you feel lonely or sad or frustrated or wronged. Whenever, whenever, always- but the words struggle at the tip of his tongue, run in circles in his head, crash and tangle and tighten in his chest, he's unsurprised when what he manages to get out is an:
“You… you can cry on my shoulder or whatever, another time” he kicks a rock next to them, wanting to clench his fists in pure anxiousness of what's to come, and rage at being so unable to be clear and upfront and supportive.
And Izuku giggles.
Giggles.
He looks at him and is met with those bright eyes -bright in all the right ways, now-, his wobbly smile, a firm nod accompanying the lightest of blushes.
Katsuki's lips pull up in a light smile, and he knows for sure his eyes can't hide the fondness overflowing him.
Because Izuku is just like that, always seeing through the rough edges. It's how it's always been with Deku, this mix of weird, stormy and floaty, uncontrollable feelings he could never escape.
In a moment, he's overwhelmed with this fondness, this need to touch and hold and kiss and care for-, this feeling of untamable love that can barely be contained in his body.
And why would it have to?
He has come to know how hard it is to run from mechanisms so ingrained in him they become automatic, in the way of all of his actions, but Izuku makes him want to fight, fight so hard and relearn so to lay his walls down and just let his love overflow.
Make it so Izuku doesn't have to see through him, so that he could just see and feel Katsuki's love and care and comfort, every single good thing he has to give. So that he deserves to be in his life.
He feels an outburst of determination fill him. Oh, he will. If Izuku’s eyes could still lend him this gentleness, if Izuku looked for him out of everybody for comfort, if he could forgive him with ease, how could he decide it was best for him to hide his feelings? Does Izuku not deserve to decide for himself whether he wants it or not?
He got one step closer again, slightly trembling hands going up to Izuku's suddenly mixed up face, hanging weirdly in the air, until he gently cupped his face.
His fingers grazed at his cheeks, painting the tears away, and Izuku's expression eased into something he couldn't quite describe, but looked warm and soft and good, perfect.
Katsuki didn't instantly pull away, just holding his face, and his gaze. Izuku's eyes didn't look as troubled anymore, ratherly filled with deep feelings Katsuki wants to be brave enough to decipher.
Izuku's left hand comes up and he holds one of his hands for a moment, and feelings overall really do annoy Katsuki, but right here, right now, with all this new and weird feelings like his racing heart and clammy hands and euphoric limbs, eyes and hands locked intimately, he smiles, genuinely.
Because this is Izuku, and really, there's just no one else for him.
On God, if he ever can stand a real chance in Izuku's heart, he will fight for it.
As their moment breaks, neither of them says anything, walking side by side to their dorm under the moonlight.
Izuku had a nightmarish day, and really, he isn't sure what pushed him to ask something so out of place of Kacchan, but for all his fears of being pushed away for overstepping, he feels like they crossed an ambiguous, imaginary line that brought them closer than they've ever been.
Katsuki's touch was soft yet firm, his embrace like the safest place on Earth, his hands framing with a cherishing caress. He has this fleeting, invasive thought, wishing this was usual. Wishing to be held as a lover.
And every time things like things made way into his mind, he smoothly repressed them, hiding them even from himself if he could, like a second nature.
But now…
Whatever that was, this glimpse of hope Katsuki's gentle gaze gave him, he'll take it.
He should be afraid, terrified of being wrong, of the very idea of how crushed he'd feel if he got his hopes up just for nothing.
But with all they've been through...
He's never seen Katsuki like this. With such a warm haze all around, eyes insanely deep, smile so- so soft, sincere. They way he cradled his face, holding eye contact like this moment was something precious between them, with some promise left unsaid, with just the stars as witness.
He couldn't give it up. If there's a shot to be made for them, he will fight for it.