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Todoroki has no sense of timing.
He brings up his suggestion only two minutes before they’re set to jump out of a helicopter at seven-thousand feet when the temperature is below ten degrees centigrade.
Katsuki’s been visibly irritated for several minutes before this—about the cold, made worse by how thin the air is up here—and the stupid peppermint bastard’s been watching him rub his own hands together for longer than that. The action doesn’t make him sweat, but he’s not about to stand up and do jumping jacks in the compartment behind the cockpit, like some kind of idiot who has a nervous tick.
“You could hold my warm hand,” Todoroki remarks, in the same tone he uses when reciting the salient details of a mission briefing, like he’s answering a homework problem and showing his work. “It would help you sweat.”
“Fuck off,” Katsuki doesn’t need anyone’s help.
Stupid cold. Stupid wind chill. Stupid winter. Stupid Half and Half bastard. Katsuki doesn’t need him.
However–
It’s not technically help if he’s using Todoroki like he would a campfire or a room heater to support his own quirk. He would still be the one doing the work. He needs to sweat. He uses the sun for this during the summer. Sure, it might be…inconvenient to get heat via Todoroki, but Katsuki’s not some petulant, arrogant brat anymore. He knows his own limitations and he’ll do whatever it takes in order to get ahead.
So he rips the glove off his right hand and offers up his bare palm, and Todoroki instantly holds it, with no comment. Katsuki suppresses a remark along the lines of ‘aren’t we eager?’ because he realizes that while it is not help, it is a favor, and it’s not like Todoroki is getting anything out of this either.
Todoroki’s grip is surprisingly firm and warm air immediately surrounds Katsuki’s entire arm. There’s something to be said about Todoroki’s efficiency with his quirk (both sides of it now). Katsuki has to admit it’s an attractive quality. He likes competence. And all that warm air makes it feel like that part of his body’s stepped into a sauna, and his muscles relax too, the way they do when he takes a hot shower.
He swallows down a contented sigh at how fucking good that feels, because they have an audience (of one, not counting the pilot). Izuku shifts forward from his position on Todoroki’s other side to watch what’s happening, his eyes widen, and Katsuki glares at him until he slowly shifts back.
Todoroki, for his part, has a neutral expression, and his hand doesn’t do so much as change position, or try to squeeze or caress Katsuki’s hand. It’s just warm. As promised.
Katsuki has a passing thought that hugging Todoroki while his quirk is activated like this probably feels like utter heaven, and he pushes that aside right away. Holding hands is one thing, but they’re not fucking hugging, all this is just the sudden rise in temperature messing with his head.
It’s vertigo. It doesn’t mean anything.
The helicopter shakes as they start a partial descent, and it’s Katsuki that squeezes Todoroki hand tighter as they jostle against each other in the seats, on instinct. To prevent them from breaking apart.
“Turbulence is normal,” Todoroki says.
Katsuki resents the implication. “I know.”
His cheeks are warm, and suddenly both his hands are clammy with nitroglycerin. Oh.
Katsuki lets go. He has to. He’s set to jump, with Todoroki behind him, and Izuku after that. Todoroki doesn’t say anything, but he watches Katsuki put his glove back on, takes his hand back and adjusts the snap at the collar of his costume. It doesn’t need adjusting, but Katsuki’s always seen him check it before a jump. He watches Todoroki’s hands for a moment, the one that was holding his hand so tightly, before he shuts all that out of his mind.
They get into position, he jumps headfirst and ignites his hands with blazing sparks. The familiar boom of his explosions readily goes off and he smiles—he loves his fucking quirk.
He spots Todoroki in his peripheral vision, damn nerd coming in hot behind him, then they’re off.
*
Todoroki offers again two weeks later.
There was a blizzard last night, and Katsuki’s slow. His joints are frozen, he can’t sweat right and it hurts.
Everything made him mad this morning, when he realized what the average temperature was gonna be. He glared at his breakfast, he stewed in his misery on the train, and he kicked open doors harder than he needed while making his way into the agency, making more than one person jump from their seat. By the time he sees Todoroki in the locker room, he’s furious—mostly with himself for having the weakness—and he’s not in the mood for conversation.
Todoroki’s patrol was overnight. His power being what it is, they used him to help clear out the snow so kids could get to school, like a glorified snow plow. It was in the report he posted this morning that Katsuki read while being mad on the train on the way here.
“I could warm you up,” Todoroki says, and Kaminari steps out of a nearby shower stall and snickers.
Katsuki throws up a middle finger at him, then glares at Todoroki. “Don’t say it like that!”
“How should I say it?” Todoroki asks, mind-numbingly innocent.
“Just hold it out! You don’t have to say anything.”
Todoroki offers his hand like a handshake and Katsuki takes it. Last time, Todoroki was wearing these black, fingerless gloves with his costume, and today he’s not. So it’s skin against skin. The warmth comes in through Katsuki’s pores.
Last time when he started to sweat, he got it on Todoroki’s glove. But this time, they’re holding bare hands and Katsuki’s conscious of the slightly slimy texture of his own sweat getting on Todoroki.
“It’s not as sticky as I remembered,” Todoroki says, and then he looks up at Katsuki. “I wouldn’t mind if it was.”
“Like I care what it feels like to you.”
The warmth of Todoroki’s quirk envelops him, like they’re both sitting in front of an open fire.
It’s strange feeling heat permeate inwards rather than blasting out. Todoroki’s fire isn’t like Katsuki’s explosive warmth, it doesn’t come in sudden bursts, but in waves. There’s steadiness to his heat, like there is to him. The promise of an even hotter, molten core under the surface.
Katsuki feels like he’s in a sauna again, and the steam from the shower stalls adds to that sensation. Todoroki doesn’t look at him, watching their hands, and his expression is unreadable. He keeps his hand so still, a part of Katsuki almost wishes he would move his fingertips, brush them against Katsuki’s bare skin for some sensation.
There’s a healed cut on Todoroki’s palm that Katsuki can feel against his.
“What sliced your hand?” he demands.
He wonders if it was the guy with the motor quirk Todoroki fought a week ago. The one who could make anything spin, and tended to apply that principle to sharp objects. As villains do.
“Oh, I did. I was cutting open a pineapple.”
Unbelievable.
Katsuki cracks a smile. “You idiot. You always gotta cut against a flat surface, there should never be a sharp fucking thing in one hand, and the thing you’re cutting in your other hand.”
“But I’ve seen you do that when you peel the skin off apples.”
“You’re not on my level,” Katsuki says. “Tell me you won’t do it again.”
“Will you cut my pineapples for me?” Todoroki asks.
Katsuki doesn’t dignify that with an answer.
*
When Katsuki gets back to his apartment he tries to remember how Todoroki could possibly remember that holding Katsuki’s hand had been sticky, they never…they never fucking held hands, did they?
He remembers the times when they were in high school when Katsuki would purposefully wipe his sweat off on Todoroki’s hand as fuel to ignite with his fire. That was a favor. Now Todoroki’s doing him a favor right back.
What’s more is that it’s working. It wasn’t nearly as effective as a real warm-up, but it was better than nothing.
There’s no real downside either. Extras will talk, but only if they see it, and next time, Katsuki can take Todoroki aside somewhere they won’t.
The only problem is…Katsuki liked the way it felt.
The whole sensation was…nice. Like a sunlit day in the middle of winter. It’s not a good idea to have all those warm, positive feelings—the ones associated with having his quirk shine the brightest—tied to Todoroki. It could make things confusing.
Todoroki is…a friend. He’s been that for longer than Katsuki would normally admit. The schoolboy crush Katsuki had was years ago, and this is totally different. It was warm, that would make anyone feel good. There’s no risk repeating it.
*
The third time Todoroki offers, Katsuki yanks him into a supply closet.
Todoroki looks decently freaked the fuck out about the choice of venue, though he seemed fine when Katsuki asked him if they could take this someplace else. Every time Katsuki thinks he’s found out how Todoroki works, how he’s wired, there’s always another fucking twist incoming.
“What’s your problem?” Katsuki demands, and while he’s waiting for an answer, he takes a sniff.
Ammonia. There’s a definite cleaning product smell in here. But it’s not overpowering, so this’ll do fine.
“I don’t know if you know this, but people come here to kiss,” Todoroki says.
Huh.
“Well I’m not kissing you, so you can relax,” Katsuki snaps.
He’s offended.
He did have fantasies once, about being stuck with Todoroki in dark, enclosed spaces, and he’d thought about kissing him and what it might feel like. He didn’t know Todoroki would find the idea so shockingly bad.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Todoroki says. “I was just surprised.”
Katsuki doesn’t have it in him to ask what Todoroki means by that (he’s too cold right now, for one thing). “Are we doing this or what?”
“We are. I want to help you,” Todoroki holds out his hand, less like a handshake, more like a come along, and Katsuki grabs it because he doesn’t have time to squabble about the difference.
The warmth spreads immediately from their points of contact. It’s bigger this time, and it fills the whole room. Katsuki gets goosebumps as he rides the wave of heat radiating from Todoroki. He can feel the individual press of all five of Todoroki’s heated fingertips.
“I like this better,” Todoroki notes. “The handshake felt too much like two presidents greeting each other at an international summit.”
Katsuki likes this better too. For (mostly) the same reason. “Whatever. Either’s fine.”
*
After a couple of times doing this in the closet, Katsuki really should have seen the question coming.
Todoroki asks it as if he’s stumbled into something incredibly clever, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and Katsuki intensely remembers being seventeen and wanting to kiss him. “Don’t you think there’s something ironic about two men sneaking off to hold hands in a closet?”
His heart races. “I thought you didn’t get idioms, or metaphors.”
“I’ve been improving,” Todoroki says.
Katsuki tries not to focus on their clasped hands. He’s starting to sweat, so it shouldn’t be much longer.
“Do you find it ironic?” Todoroki presses on.
“Nah. Why the fuck would I? I’m gay and out. I put the goddamn pin on my fucking backpack.”
It was Todoroki who triggered the original realization. Todoroki stepping out of the showers with sopping wet hair. Todoroki getting half his street clothes burnt to bits every time there was an incident, the way half his bare chest rose and fell as steam was coming off of him. Todoroki just…the way he was, the way he still is.
Not just a good-looking guy, but…something else. Katsuki never quite put his finger on it.
“I didn’t know you were gay. I thought you were an ally,” Todoroki squeezes his hand. “Though I hope you know, I would support you either way.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki acknowledges gruffly. “So how about you, then?”
Katsuki always kinda assumed. Hoped, more accurately. That Todoroki wanted to kiss boys. (Wanted to kiss him.)
“I have romantic attraction to people that only happens after I’ve made a strong emotional connection with them. It’s called being demisexual.”
Oh. That’s—huh.
“Okay. Just so I know, that something you want me to keep to myself?”
“I haven’t told anyone since I figured it out. I’d like to tell them myself,” Todoroki says. “So yes, please keep it to yourself while I take care of that.”
The way he says it implies the realization was recent. Katsuki wonders how recent. Months?
“Sure thing. Have you–I mean, are you with anyone, right now?”
As soon as Katsuki asks, he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have, because he remembers how mad it used to make him. Seeing Todoroki be romantic, or quasi-romantic with anybody else.
Back then, Katsuki had gotten so worked up he’d cried. Seeing him with Inasa in third year and wondering if there was something there was fucking torture. And Katsuki never got an answer about Todoroki’s feelings. He never got the balls to go up and ask.
For some reason, he thought if Todoroki had the interest, there would be some kinda signal. Or some night, when things would just…change. Then wham. Bam. Kapow. Todoroki would be his boyfriend.
He’d never been in love with anybody before.
He didn’t know how to solve it without falling flat on his face and doing something he couldn’t come back from. Todoroki had enough fucked up shit happening to him to deal with unwanted feelings, and high school was enough of a humbling experience for Katsuki without getting rejected by the guy he’d sworn to beat.
They are friends, so Katsuki wants Todoroki to find someone and be happy in some abstract, non-specific way, but even now, knowing who that person is is gonna kill him.
“I’m with you right now,” Todoroki says, misunderstanding the point. “Don’t you see that?”
He’s ridiculous. “I meant dating.”
“Oh. No then. I’m not.”
*
Their patrols keep lining up so they can do this. Either Todoroki gets off his shift before Katsuki starts his, the reverse, or they have shifts together.
It happens too often for it to be a coincidence. Every day for three weeks? No way.
Katsuki doesn’t care for administrative duties. Every group of heroes has one volunteer who helps assign the shifts and coordinate preferences, sick days, vacations, and things like that. Iida is one of them, he volunteered the first chance he got, but Katsuki and Todoroki aren’t in his group.
They’re in Izuku’s. Which is all the evidence Katsuki needs.
“Look, asshat, I don’t know why, I don't even know when you got the time, but I know you did this!” Katsuki slams three schedule sheets down on Izuku’s desk. “FESS UP.”
“Good morning to you too,” Izuku takes the sheets in hand, and makes a good impression of reading them like he’s never seen them before in his life.
“Well?”
“I noticed you were spending some time together before shifts, and it seemed to help your average response time, so I made it so you see Todoroki-kun more often, so what?” Izuku tucks the paper into one of his cabinet drawers, pointedly not making eye-contact.
He is so guilty.
“For the last time, stop stalking me, and don’t fucking meddle in my goddamn business!”
“You didn’t tell him,” Izuku realizes, and the nonchalant look on his face is immediately gone, now he looks sad. “You haven’t told him. This is…this is something else.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Katsuki insists. “Stop looking at me like that.”
It’s pointless though. Izuku knows the secret. He’s the only one who ever did, and how he figured it out the first time, Katsuki doesn’t get, but whatever. No one else seemed to see it. Todoroki never did.
“Kacchan.”
“What?!”
“Do you still like him?” Izuku asks, lowering his voice.
He sounds worried. Caring. Prepared to meddle some more. That’s just who he is. Last time around, he wanted Katsuki to tell Todoroki how he felt.
Obviously, that didn’t happen. Everytime Katsuki got close enough to say it, he found some reason or another to hold it back.
Todoroki…he had enough on his plate. They both did. What Katsuki wanted didn’t matter. That was a fantasy, and there was…reality, right in front of their faces (with all its problems), and it’s not like it would have worked out. Todoroki and him.
It was hard, last time, to stop thinking of Todoroki like that. “No. I don’t. And don’t you dare ask me again. I’ll fucking kill you.”
*
Todoroki never asks Katsuki for anything substantial, so when he finally does ask for a ‘favor’ right as they’re stepping out of the closet, Katsuki’s inclined to give-in.
They’re still holding hands, which they can’t do out here, so Katsuki shrugs him off. He immediately misses the contact.
“What kinda favor?”
Katsuki does owe him one. Or several.
“I’m making dinner for my sister and my mom, come over and help me.”
“Fine.”
Katsuki notes down the details, promises to be there, and shows up right on time.
Todoroki’s apartment is familiar. It’s large, done in the traditional Japanese style, even though most of the units in this building are not. Most apartment associations don’t allow changes like this, but of course, Todoroki does what Todoroki wants.
He’s stubborn, and sticks to the familiar in so many ways. He carried the same bookbag with a cat pin on it all three years of high school. He’s wearing a purple apron when he opens the door to Katsuki, and he’s got a cat printed on it too. Along with the word ‘MEOW.’ Katsuki can’t take him seriously, can’t believe he’s still attractive like this.
“Nice apron,” Katsuki takes off his shoes and walks past him, right to the kitchen.
“Thank you. I’m really happy you could come.”
The reason for that is obvious as soon as Katsuki sees the state of the counters. Multiple dishes in progress, from the two different cookbooks open and lying down flat. A broth of some kind is coming to a boil on the stove. Ingredients everywhere, nothing’s organized.
He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work immediately, and he feels Todoroki’s eyes on him. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
“I’m trying.”
“Hand me the good knives.”
Todoroki opens a drawer and takes out a set. It looks brand new.
“We’ll start with the vegetables,” Katsuki decides.
“You need an apron too.”
“Don’t just stand there then, give me one,” Katsuki walks by both cookbooks and closes them.
He knows a version of both recipes. He’s got it memorized, and he’s sure his are better than the published ones.
Todoroki gives him a red apron that reads ‘Kiss the Cook’ and Katsuki takes it. “You bought this for yourself? You know what it says?”
“I’m not going to kiss you. You can relax,” Todoroki does a perfect imitation of what Katsuki said to him the first time he dragged him into the closet.
Very funny. “Why do you have it?”
Katsuki’s seventeen year old self is jealous. Jealous of anyone who gets to have Todoroki, when Katsuki doesn’t. When Katsuki won’t ever get to have him.
“It came with the cat apron. It was a set, so I had to buy both.”
“Because you had to have the cat apron.”
“Yes, I did,” Todoroki says. “Doesn’t it suit me?”
Todoroki looks good in everything. But seeing the cat apron after trudging up nine flights of stairs (broken elevator), made Katsuki almost smile. He wore his good cologne for some reason, on his way over here to cook. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
“Fine, I’ll wear your stupid apron. Let’s just cook,” Katsuki puts it on over his head.
Todoroki takes the loose straps, and as he pulls them tight and ties them at his lower back, not too tight, Katsuki can’t breathe. “Am I bothering you?”
“You’re always bothering me.”
*
They tend to sit down more often than not, with their knees drawn up to their chests, and Todoroki holds his hand while they talk. Because it would be weird, if they just held hands in near darkness, under the flickering yellow light bulb, and didn’t say anything at all.
A few words here and there. Todoroki always makes Katsuki laugh at least once. On purpose only about half the time. Katsuki starts sweating within minutes, and Todoroki amps up the heat when he feels the sweat against his palm.
Lately, Todoroki doesn’t keep his fingers still. He caresses the back of Katsuki’s hand as he talks, circular motions with his thumb, more of a back and forth with the other four. Slow, soothing. Katsuki would have blown his head off for trying it before.
But the heat makes him complacent. Sleepy. He shows up once at four-thirty in the morning, thirty minutes before he has to go stand guard at a school where there’s been credible kidnapping threats. His head feels heavy, and he leans it on Todoroki’s shoulder, and closes his eyes for a few minutes, faking sleep.
He thinks about how stupid it is that people threaten to kidnap little kids to get their quirks. How frustrating it is that he’s going to be there as a deterrent for only nine hours, and that leaves the whole remainder of the day for someone to go and grab them.
Katsuki thinks about Todoroki. About how he’s going to have to lift his head up off Todorokiʼs shoulder and probably yell, or snarl, or act upset about having had his head here, to disguise the fact that he wanted to, and he liked it.
If they were together, they could do this all the time. Not in a dingy little closet that smells like bleach, but somewhere better. If he keeps his eyes closed, he can almost keep that stupid, moronic fantasy.
He lifts up his head, and Todoroki notices, looks over at him. “There’s still time. I’ll wake you up.”
“Huh? No need. I never meant to–”
“Don’t do that,” Todoroki says, he sounds so sad. “Please.”
“Okay, okay. It’s too hot though. Just sit. Stop the heat.”
Todoroki doesn’t let his hand go, and Katsuki gets an extra fifteen minutes of sleep.
*
Their shifts don’t align for the first time in weeks on a Monday morning. Katsuki’s in the middle of two hours of weekly paperwork that he was supposed to submit the previous Friday. It’s going to be a day of desk duty.
Todoroki comes up to his desk, and he looks at Katsuki all expectantly. “Shouldn’t we go?”
Katsuki gestures to his stack of papers.
Todoroki frowns, he looks exhausted. “I don’t suppose we could do it anyway?”
He’s wearing his hero costume. It looks dirty. Which means he was working on something in the field.
“Where were you?” Katsuki asks, trying to put the rest together.
Todoroki sighs. “Yesterday’s attack site, they needed me to support the structure and keep everyone warm while they pulled the remaining bodies from under the rubble.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” Todoroki asks, standing there with his hands to his sides.
“Okay yes,” Katsuki says.
It could mean a whole host of things. Okay, I’ll go with you. Okay, I’m yours.
They go to the closet and sit down. Todoroki reaches for Katsuki’s hand, and Katsuki thinks, fuck it, fuck everything, it was a bad day, wasn’t it? Bodies under the rubble. Katsuki knows what they look like.
He pulls Todoroki into a close, tight hug, and he accepts the gasp of surprise he gets in return. He knows he’s not the one expected to do something like this. It’s just—he can’t not do it. Not now.
Todoroki makes a sound. It could be a sob. Or a wet kind of sigh. Or even just an exhale. He holds Katsuki back and it feels…good. It feels good to be held by him.
This is what he’d wanted, when he wanted to be with Todoroki. He couldn’t admit it to himself, even in his head, but he can admit it now. He likes it, the comfort. Todoroki’s strength, resting against his, the way it feels like all their burdens are shared, when they’re holding onto each other.
Katsuki was always so bad at sharing. He should hate it on principle. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate anything about Todoroki anymore.
“Thank you,” Todoroki says, before pulling back, several minutes later.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says, a catch-all word for everything. “I–”
He stops. His throat feels so dry. He should let Todoroki go now. Todoroki got what he needed. So…why?
“Fuck,” he whispers, and he’s not getting any closer to saying what he wants to say.
I liked you. I like you. Do you fucking like me back?
It was a bad day. Todoroki doesn’t have time for this. He’s got enough problems. They’ve both got enough problems. They don’t need this…feelings. They don’t—
Todoroki hugs him again. This time he activates his quirk, and plumes of warmth immediately surround them. Every muscle in Katsuki’s body relaxes, and he sinks his full weight against Todoroki’s body.
“Relax,” Todoroki says.
This is bad. This is wrong. Katsuki was supposed to be helping Todoroki for once. He’s so fucking weak for this. He’s always been so weak and he can’t even control it. He can’t control what he wants and what he does, and who he craves more than anything.
“Relax,” Todoroki repeats. “For me?”
Oh.
Yeah. Ordinarily that would earn Todoroki a quick fuck the fuck off, a dismissal. But now, in his arms, it totally makes sense. Katsuki can relax. He can fucking relax for Todoroki.
“Good,” Todoroki says, after a moment, as if he knows that Katsuki has.
The praise sets off a happy rumble in Katsuki’s chest, and if he could purr, he fucking would, because he’s being good, and that’s all he’s wanted to be, really, from the very beginning.
Or maybe it’s the ammonia in this goddamn cleaning closet finally fucking with his head.
“I want to tell you something,” Todoroki says.
Huh? Okay. “Go for it.”
“I have feelings for you,” Todoroki says. “I was going to keep it to myself, but I don’t want to die without telling you. I don’t want any regrets.”
Katsuki can’t believe this. He’s crying before he understands that he is. Todoroki grips him tighter, confused, and Katsuki wipes his eyes and glares at him. The moron.
He wants to say so many fucking things. Only one comes out.
“Kiss me on the fucking mouth.”
Then he doesn’t wait for Todoroki to do it, does it himself. He has to do everything himself, doesn’t he? But Todoroki responds in kind, and then they’re kissing, hard, toppling to the floor. Todoroki is on top of him. All over him.
It’s hot. All kinds of wet. Katsuki’s sweat, Katsuki’s tears, Todoroki’s tongue wetting his lips, and parting them to kiss and then kiss him again. It’s fucking great. Todoroki’s scalding hot hand running up and down and everywhere on Katsuki’s body.
His own hands scramble to touch Todoroki back, give as well as he gets, and he’s still crying—to be clear, from happiness. He’s wanted this since he was seventeen. Seventeen. He’s wanted this fucking man.
They paw at each other like animals for as long as they possibly can. Todoroki kisses along his neck, and bites at his throat, and Katsuki actually laughs, because he fucking loves it.
“Do you like me too then?” Todoroki asks, and Katsuki laughs harder.
Ridiculous. He’s so ridiculous.
“I love you, idiot,” Katsuki blurts out without thinking.
Without considering that what Todoroki said was feelings, not love, and he’s blowing things up before they’ve even started.
“Me too,” Todoroki promises. “I do. I always have.”
*
The thing about Todoroki’s ‘warm-ups’ is that they always brought up Katsuki’s body temperature but didn’t do as much for his heart rate as running around in the sun usually did.
Making out before a patrol with Todoroki activating his quirk tends to solve both problems. Sex does one better, and Katsuki’s never gonna say no to Todoroki’s naked and heated skin. Winter is their favorite month, because Katsuki can use every excuse to be all over his boyfriend—after all, his quirk demands it.
Todoroki becomes Shouto, then Shou, or even ‘baby,’ sometimes. Katsuki has nicknames of his own, and being Shouto’s ‘sweetheart’ might have fucking mortified him once, but now the sincerity and the Shouto of it all just makes him laugh.
Shouto, for his part, is the happiest he’s ever been. He told Katsuki that himself, right before they jumped out of a helicopter (warmed up, of course), so he knows it for a fact.