Work Text:
Running Out of Time
Part 2
Catch-A-Deku
There are few things in his life that Katsuki is truly proud of. Only a little while ago, he could have found a thousand and one things to brag about, but if he really thinks about it, there are so few he can probably count them on one hand.
Getting his head out of his ass long enough to make friends with Kirishima Eijiro might be at the top of that list. His friendship with shitty hair (seriously, it looks fine without all the gel and dye, the God damned moron is gonna go bald before he's twenty, and Katsuki's gonna laugh ) brought with it Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta and Kaminari Denki. A band of obnoxiously loud, ride-or-die, chaotic fucking morons he never asked for but will fight God if anything ever happens to them.
His friendship with his squad - Mina's words, not his - is a strange concoction of good-natured teasing and competitiveness with equal parts shit-talking and encouragement and just the tiniest bit of space for emotional vulnerability. It's such a far removal from the empty fawning behaviour of his followers from elementary and middle school.
His first real friends. Sometimes he feels guilty about that. He knows that if anyone asked, Izuku would say that Katsuki was his first and best friend. The thought makes him feel kinda sick to his stomach cause he was never a friend to Izuku. And now that he knows what real friendship is, he knows that he will never see the greenet as a friend. What Katsuki felt for Izuku in the past was not very 'friendly' in nature and what he feels for him now is… well. If the long, raging conversations and scorch marks on that rooftop in ground beta with Kirishima are any indication, his feelings for Midoriya Izuku are still not even remotely friendly. Feral. Possessive. Carnal. Fucking gross and messy. But no, not 'friendly'. Katsuki is sure that they can never be friends. They could only ever be more or nothing at all.
In the last seven minutes, he's done four things he can be proud of. The first is he didn't blow up the entire God damned building. He swears to any and all gods that one of these days, that fucking nerd will be the root of his villain origin.
The second thing he's proud of is that he didn't go racing off to catch that fucking Deku. He wanted to, but Izuku has at least a four-hour head start, which already puts him at a disadvantage for being able to go out and track that moron down. And furthermore, because Katsuki is a fucking genius, he knows that the Pros have probably been let in on the secret of OFA. So they'll start treating Izuku and OFA like their secret weapon and will deliberately block any and all attempts at making that stupid self-sacrificing idiot see sense.
Third, he didn't destroy the letter upon first reading it. Sure, he may have crumpled it up tight in his fist, but he resisted the urge to ignite it. Honestly, he deserves a fucking medal for showing that much self-restraint.
He holds the piece of paper tightly in his hand and just tries to breathe. He's counted to forty before he can bring himself to read the letter again. He sits down on his bed, slowly uncurls his fingers, and carefully uncrumples the paper, separating the two pages and using the top of his leg to smooth them out. He takes another deep breath and re-reads it. And re-reads it. And re-reads it.
The fourth thing he's proud of is that he doesn't cry. He does, however, put his fist through Mineta's face when he finally makes it to the common room.
He's never really given a shit about how he presents himself to others before. He's got family ties to the fashion industry, and he's never given a shit about looking 'put together. Glasses has attempted to write him up for dress code violations every day since June. But, since those need to be signed off by their homeroom teacher – needless to say, Katsuki has never been reprimanded for not wearing his uniform correctly.
He straightens his tie for the nth time that morning and runs his finger between the stiffly starched collar and his skin again. He pats down any wrinkles and gives himself one more once over in the mirror. His shirt and pants are both pressed. The shirt is tucked in neatly, and his pants have sharp, even creases from below the pockets to the cuffs. His loafers are polished, and his blazer is buttoned closed (he's gonna need a new one, he hadn't realized he'd gotten so wide in the shoulders). Distantly, he knows he looks good, but he has a more prominent, more pressing thought. He tries to imagine what Izuku's expression would be if he saw him wearing his full uniform for once.
He imagines bright green eyes growing wider and his mouth falling slack in shock as the smaller boy takes him in. He wonders if, after that moment, he'd avert his eyes and blush. Not the deep crimson of embarrassment that makes him splutter and hide his face, but the soft flush that clings to his cheekbones when he's breathing heavily, and his heart rate is up. Katsuki gives himself a shake when his thoughts start to wander towards what the heat of that flush would feel like under his touch, under his lips.
He adjusts the strap of his Rolex. It's a hand-me-down from his grandfather, but he's about to face off with Todoroki Enji. If he's picked up anything about that man, it's that few things impress him, and Katsuki is pulling out all the stops to do just that. Finally, he makes his way out of his room, and Shoto is there to meet him. They give each other a slight acknowledging nod and head off to the common area to meet up with the rest of Class A.
One of the proudest moments of Katsuki's life is that for once in his life, he was able to use his words to get his feelings crossed instead of his fists. God, it was so fucking gross. He just stood there in the pouring rain, like a character from some dumb shojo manga, and bared his soul. He knows he's gonna rankle at the fact that he let himself be so vulnerable in front of a bunch of extras later, but at the time, his focus was only on one thing. On one person. On the only person who mattered.
"I'm sorry, Izuku, for everything I've done 'till now."
He says the words and bows. It probably looks a little awkward, but he tries to show his contrition with his body, all while keeping his eyes on Izuku. Because he has to see it. Needs to see it. The moment his words register in Izuku's mind. The nerd can't police his facial expressions worth shit.
It's probably one of the most significant moments of his life. That moment, he saw how his words could bring life back into dead, hollowed-out eyes. He sees it when everything changes.
He watched how tears sprang to the corners of those dark, tired eyes. He watches how Izuku's shoulders slumped, and his posture sagged even as he tried to spout off some bullshit about how they "can't keep up" with him. He watches as Izuku's body sways and tilts dangerously. Then, for the second time in his life, his body moves without thinking, and in the blink of an eye, his arms are the only thing holding up Izuku's unconscious body.
The others are swarming towards them now that their quarry has been caught. But Katsuki is trapped in a bubble of time where it's just the two of them. For a moment, he can pretend that there is another reason why Izuku's body is warm and heavy in his arms. Unconsciously, he pulls the smaller boy tighter, buries his nose into messy dark curls, and can't help the small triumphant smile that ghosts across his lips.
'Gotcha.'