Work Text:
“Hey Bakugou, why aren’t you dating anyone?” Eijiro asks, muttering a quick thank you afterwards as a waitress collects his empty bowl.
“Who said I wasn’t?” Katsuki replies easily, putting down his chopsticks. He thinks about how Izuku is probably at home right now, dozing off on the sofa, waiting for him. “Hey, let’s go if you’re done.”
“What?” Eijiro gasps, almost dramatically spitting out the drink in his mouth. “You’re dating?”
“No,” Katsuki deadpans. “You’re an idiot for believing that.” And then he thinks about telling Izuku off for requesting homemade Katsudon four days in a row, which he recalls relenting, and they ended up eating that shit for five whole days.
Five whole days. That’s actually complete bullshit. Why the hell did he do that?
Eijiro tsks, having been used to Katsuki's sarcasm. “You know I’m only concerned about your future.”
“Very kind of you but no thanks,” Katsuki replies cooly, wiping his mouth swiftly with a paper napkin and then folding it in half.
“Your happiness! Your kids!” Eijiro throws out his open palms, far too exasperated for a heatless argument, and a single chopstick drops to the ground. “I don’t want to see you die alone!”
“I’m not alone.” Katsuki glowers at Eijiro a little.
“Whoops, right, you had your awakening in first year or something.”
Katsuki smiles menacingly. “Seems like someone wants to die soon though.”
And as Katsuki headlocks Eijiro and almost topples over their jar of ice water, the red hair boy says, “What about Midoriya?”
“What about him,” Katsuki replies a little too fast for his liking. Now he’s gonna look like he cares about whatever that little shitnerd is up to.
“Is he seeing anyone?” Eijiro pulls at Katsuki’s arm around his neck. Katsuki pushes him away and grunts.
“Fuck if I know.”
“You should!” Eijiro reasons. “You guys live with each other and-,” Eijiro takes a breath, as if he needs time to decide whether he should say the following. “You like him, right?”
Katsuki stills, then, “What the fuck.” Grabbing his backpack from the seat next to him, he scoots his chair back and heads towards the payment counter. It is only then that he realises this is what Eijiro has been trying to say the whole time. “I’m leaving.”
“Are you ever gonna anything about it?” Eijiro asks, stumbling behind Katsuki, wearing his jacket and scarf hurriedly. Katsuki turns around again, preparing to rage or explode something, he doesn’t know, but is surprised to see the solemn expression on his friend’s face.
“I don’t like him like that,” Katsuki mutters after a moment. Because knowing someone for your whole fucking life doesn’t mean you have to like them, cohabitation is just something that came naturally, and the weird obligation he feels towards Izuku is just due to the idiot’s self sacrificial tendencies and general non-existent knowledge on housework. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
Something tugs at the base of his heart like he'd forgotten something important, but he pays no heed as he hands the waitress the exact amount of cash needed, then they offer small thank yous and duck out of the small ramen restaurant.
The red head doesn’t say anything else more regarding the topic on their way to the trains, opting to just give Katsuki a light pat on the shoulders before he got off at his own station. Katsuki turns the volume of his headphones all the way up once Eijiro is gone.
-
“Oi, are you dating?” Katsuki asks in the end, all the while cursing himself for letting what Kirishima said get to his head.
“Eh?” Izuku whips his head around, face reddening almost immediately. Katsuki fights the urge to laugh. “N-no, I’m not!”
“Thought so,” Katsuki smirks, his hand on the cup relaxing. He doesn’t know why he was even nervous to hear Izuku’s answer. As if it would be any different than the one inside his head.
“What do you mean, Kacchan?” Izuku pouts and frowns a little, then turns around to finish hanging the last of their laundry. “So rude.”
Katsuki stills then, taking in the moment of Izuku hanging his own shirt that says “Pyjamas”, and wonders what he would even do if Izuku has answered yes to his previous question.
“I would be the first to know if you’re dating anyone anyway,” Katsuki says after a moment, and he hates the way he said it—like he needs to confirm with Izuku that he would know first, where Izuku is gonna go that morning; if Izuku is getting a new case from their agency; whether Izuku is free to go to their class reunion; when Izuku dates someone else-
Someone else? Katsuki catches himself thinking. The hell?
Izuku chuckles lightly and walks over to their kitchen counter, probably to get himself a small box of strawberry milk at midnight. He does open their fridge and pull out a very suspicious-looking pink drink.
“You’re right, you’ll probably be the first one to know anyway.”
“Why are you asking though? I didn’t think you were interested in stuff like that,” Izuku says again after sitting down across from Katsuki on the high table. Katsuki knows that he’s swinging his legs even without looking down.
“No reason.”
Izuku’s eyes widen as his little overworking brain comes to a conclusion. “Are you dating someone, Kacchan?”
“Bye,” Katsuki throws down and gets up from their table, bringing his cup to the sink to rinse.
Katsuki hears a chair skid and then Izuku is grabbing onto his wrist.
“Kacchan?” Izuku asks with a sense of urgency, but it is nothing like the nosy undertone that their classmates usually harbour. Just a mere question paired with the seemingly endless amount of concern Izuku has for him, like whenever he spoke to Katsuki after their mission; Are you hurt, Kacchan? Kacchan, did it scratch you?
Katsuki stares at the way Izuku is looking at him right now, eyes wide and panicky, and Katsuki couldn’t understand him. He frowns before knowing.
“No,” He answers in the end. “I’m not dating anyone.”
Izuku’s face flashes with a second of realisation before he lets go of Katsuki’s hands, cheeks turning red. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Katsuki scoffs, the edge of his mouth threatening to quirk up. Upon seeing Katsuki’s expression soften, Izuku lets out a soft laugh, which is mixed with a hint of nervousness like it usually does when he’s embarrassed. Katsuki’s breath hitches and his words catches in his throat.
“I was just going to ask if they’re treating you well, or like, uhm, if you’re happy, you know, feeling satisfied with—“ Izuku’s hands start waving around. “No, wait, that sounds a bit wrong, I mean-” Izuku rambles on, face flushing another pretty shade of pink, and Katsuki finds himself not minding his muttering. Since when? Since when did he get used to this? To this stupid nerd’s never-ending mumbling, analysis, to them coming home to each other, just sitting at the kitchen—
“Hey, earth to Kacchan,” Izuku sing-songs, face right in front of Katsuki, grinning toothily. And Katsuki leans back instantly, almost instinctively, as if he had spent all his life practising how to maintain their distance with each other.
“Don’t fucking scare me like that, Deku,” Katsuki mutters, words without bite. Izuku laughs, clear and happy. Katsuki doesn’t allow himself to indulge in it and straightens himself. Putting his cup into the sink, he decides that he’ll wash it tomorrow morning instead. “Goodnight.”
“Ah, you’re sleeping already?”
“What do you mean already? It’s past midnight, Deku,” Katsuki juts his chin at the direction of the clock hanging above the short corridor they have.
“Oh, you’re right,” Izuku realises, and Katsuki muses briefly if Izuku has always been so naturally air-headed sometimes. He laughs under his breath.
“Stupid nerd.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Izuku complains, still sitting at the high table. Katsuki’s hand pauses on his doorknob and turns around to see that Izuku has his eyes narrowed, cheeks pouty from the annoyed expression that he’s trying to pull off very unsuccessfully.
“That’s the point, dumbass,” He barely manages, face heating up dangerously.
“Goodnight to you too, Kacchan!” Izuku calls out from behind as Katsuki whips around and slams his door shut.
-
Katsuki thinks the gods must not like him very much, because just a few days after, his manager tells him, “We are thinking of pairing you up with Camie for better brand reputation.”
“No.”
“Sorry, Dynamight, it’s already been done.”
At least his manager had the decency to look a little apologetic.
To say that Katsuki was furious would be an understatement. After cursing at everyone he talks to in the company for a few days, his rage manages to wither a little, and he tries to ignore the fact that he and Camie are supposed to be dating. His manager told him that he doesn’t really need to do anything, and that all he needs to do is act friendly if he ever happens to see Camie in public, but he still feels like murdering someone. They don’t even talk for fuck’s sake. These shippers sure have fucking grass for brains and it’s pissing him the hell off that he needs to agree to this shit show, but there has been mild complaints of him being rude and imprudent to citizens so he has no defence.
At the same time, he’s sure as hell Izuku knows the news, because there is no hero news that slips past him. Not with the way he eats hero news for breakfast. What is bothering him so much is the fact that the nerd has not brought it up yet.
“Why don’t you ask about me and Camie?” So he brings it up first one night, at their dinner table.
Izuku stops chewing for a bit, then says, “Should I?”
Katsuki scoffs. “Bruh, you’ve always asked about everything even if you shouldn’t anyway.”
“That’s true,” Izuku laughs lightly. “So should I stay true to myself?”
“It’s up to you,” Katsuki answers, heart hammering in his chest. Why did he even want Deku to ask him?
“Then are you dating her now?” Izuku asks casually, putting a piece of spinach into his mouth.
“Not really,” Is all Katsuki says in the end, and when he doesn’t offer anything more than that, Izuku doesn’t ask either.
They finish their dinner quietly, just small talks about their day littering across the conversation, and Katsuki gets up to wash their dishes when they’re all done. Albeit Izuku did ask about the news in the end, he had sounded so unenthusiastic—contrary to how Katsuki has thought he would act—it’s as if he hadn’t asked at all. The unsettlingly feeling has Katsuki peeking over to Izuku for the rest of the night. And when Izuku finally notices the other boy’s staring, he cocks his head and gives him a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ow,” Izuku complains, toothbrush still in his hand as Katsuki blocks him from leaving the bathroom. “Let go, Kacchan.”
Using his index finger and thumb to squash Izuku's face, Katsuki asks, “Did something happen today?”
Izuku’s eyes widen for a bit, then he swallows his toothpaste and shakes his head. “No, but thanks for asking.”
“Ew,” Katsuki gags, and Izuku laughs chipperly but it somehow sounds so inherently wrong.
“Did you go sunbathing?” Katsuki adds as an afterthought, thumb swiping over the tip of Izuku’s cheekbones.
“No, why?”
“Your freckles. You have more of them now.”
Izuku’s face instantly flushes red and he swats Katuski’s hands away lightly. “That came out of nowhere.”
Katsuki jolts like he’s been bitten, realising only then that maybe he’s somehow offended Izuku or crossed the unspoken distance that they’ve been trying to keep for so many years. Maybe what he did didn’t count as an obligation. And then he thinks what the fuck even is this goddamn obligation bullshit that he’s been going on about.
Nevertheless, he lets go of Izuku and goes to his room, feigning nonchalance like that’s the last bit of his pride, and regretting it when he stops seeing Izuku.
-
It’s three in the morning on a Friday, and Katsuki knows that Izuku is just done with a mission because he made sure to triple check the date and time so he wouldn’t miss him coming home. He’s been doing this for a few days now, sleeping on the couch so he doesn’t miss the jangling of the keys. He’s never caught him.
But today, just as he’s about to say fuck it and just go to sleep, the clinking of the keys echo behind their apartment door and the door rattles and opens to reveal Izuku standing behind it with a tired gait.
“Welcome home, Deku,” Katsuki says as a greeting, trying not to let the poison seep into his words. He crosses his arms and mans spreads on the sofa, which was chosen by Izuku when they first moved in five years ago and is an ugly shade of faded orange.
Izuku’s face snaps up in surprise, his feet paused mid-air since he has been taking off his shoes. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be as quiet as possible.”
“No, I was waiting for you,” Katsuki tells him, eyes following Izuku’s line of action as he finishes taking off his shoes and is now carefully putting them back on the shoe rack.
“You don’t have to,” Izuku says quietly, not questioning why Katsuki was waiting for him. He drags his feet behind him as he walks over and puts his backpack down onto the small couch by the door. Hearing the borderline awkward tone in Izuku’s voice, it is only then that Katsuki realises just how long had he not have a normal conversation with him.
“Why don’t you ever come home anymore?” He cuts to the chase.
“What do you mean?” Izuku laughs lightly, that fake-ass laugh that he’s been feeding Katsuki every time they see each other nowadays and that just makes Katsuki want to blast his head off. “I’m right here, Kacchan.”
Katsuki clenches his fists.
“You know what I mean, Deku.”
“What?” Izuku lifts up his head and looks at Katsuki as he finishes taking out his phone and what-not from his backpack. A surprising surge of fire in Izuku’s eyes confirms Katsuki that the other boy has really been avoiding him.
“You don’t fucking come back home anymore. You’re requesting every fucking case there is and you come back at the ungodly hours in the morning and I haven’t even had a glimpse of your face for the past month,” Katsuki seethes, and he hadn’t meant to shout or even raise his voice, but it ended up sounding like a petty accusation nevertheless.
“And how do you know I’m requesting for cases? I could be out drinking or playing for all you know,” Izuku crosses his arms and scowls, which is rare but he has always been defensive when they argued. Katsuki doesn’t really care; not when his own rage is firing up like a fucking rocket.
“Are you fucking dumb,” Katsuki growls. “We literally work in the same fucking company.”
“And I thought you said keeping track of one another’s schedule is creepy,” Izuku mutters as he stalks over to their kitchen and starts pouring himself a cup of water.
“Not when I barely fucking see you anymore,” Katsuki sneers, getting up from his seat. “Tell me the last time we talked, like a month ago?”
“No, it was two weeks ago.”
“Oh,” Katsuki laughs without humour. “So you do keep track.”
“We’re busy people, Kacchan.”
“That’s the lamest fucking excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Izuku stops in his tracks. Then he slowly puts down the water jar he’s holding and slides it in further towards the centre of their dining table so he wouldn’t accidentally swipe it off. He studies Katsuki in silence and Katsuki has forgotten how lonely this apartment sounds without Izuku’s tireless talking.
“Why are you so mad?” Izuku regards Katsuki defiantly, looking so different from the Izuku he knows. “Because I’m not here to share the damn rent with you?” Then he stalks over to where Katsuki is.
“Because your conscience can’t take it if I’m still paying but I never come home anymore?”
“What the fuck is this, Izuku?”
“Why do you care?” Izuku spits spitefully, slightly looking up to Katsuki even though their heights are just inches apart, face so full of contempt and unexplained sadness that Katsuki is tempted to just shut up and tell him to forget about it.
“Then why do you make me worry?” Katsuki shoots back immediately, his own heartbeat thumping in his ears.
Izuku’s eyes widen. Their dim living room lights reflects off his eyes. Is he crying?
“Don’t say that, Kacchan,“ Izuku starts, eyes still wide and surprised and crying. Then he drops his head. “You don’t get it.”
“What, Izuku?” Katsuki asks, and it sounds almost like a plea. Like how he says just shut up and come with me; like how he says don’t stay up late again; like how he says, I’ll kill you if you die on me.
“Let’s talk later, I’m tired,” Izuku sighs, and softly presses his fingers to his eyes.
“No,” Katsuki says, infuriated “When’s later, huh? Who’s to say you won’t be fucking gone by later?”
“And why does it matter to you?” Izuku bursts, his hands gone from his face and suddenly he looks livid again. “If I’m gone, maybe you can go find Camie and live with her instead.”
“Fill me in on why the fuck is she even related to this, what the fuck.”
“That’s right, I don’t know, because you never explained.”
“I didn’t have the fucking chance to talk to you!” Katsuki yells, hands going up to grab his own hair and then letting them down again.
“What is there to talk about?” Izuku screams back. He gets even closer to Katsuki so they’re now inches apart, and Katsuki can smell the faint scent of cotton and antiseptic on him. Too close. “Haven’t we been doing a good job shutting up about all the things that’s ever happened between us up until now?”
“What’s going on, Izuku?” Katsuki lowers his voice. His heart lodges in his throat, and he’s afraid of what Izuku is trying to say; afraid that Izuku is going to say something that will leave him alone and deserted again, that he’s willing to give up his pride or whatever the fuck it was that ruined what they had if it means that this boy he’s known for almost all his life will stay in this apartment.
“Why did you say that you’re worried about me? Kacchan isn’t someone who would say things like that, so why would you say that?” Izuku accuses, angry tears falling off his freckled face as he steps back a little.
“Because I fucking care about you, Izuku! I have always cared about you, why are you being so fucking stupid right now? What’s going on?”
“Why do you always make us Katsudon, huh? You don’t even like it,” Izuku continues as if Katsuki has never said anything. “You wait for me to come home every day, you hug me when we sleep sometimes, and—why are we even living together, Kacchan?"
Izuku puts one of his hands on Katsuki’s shoulders, and it weighs like a thousand tonnes from all the feelings and things they’ve locked away, somewhere, deep inside their lives that are so intertwined it’s impossible to unravel anymore, until all that’s left is the blurry mix of two people who can’t bear to leave each other alone.
"Why would you do so many things that makes me think that you like me too?"
Izuku hits Katsuki’s chest without real force using his free hand, his head hanging down.
“If there was anything between us, anything at all, shouldn’t something have happened by now?” Izuku murmurs, voice drowning with melancholy.
"Izuku," Katsuki breathes out, relief and apology wrapping up this name he's spent too long to say correctly.
Slowly, he reaches up until the fluffy texture of Izuku’s unruly hair grazes his palm, and he wraps another arm around Izuku’s waist, pulling him close and letting Izuku sob into his neck, like all the times when Izuku had let someone slip past his grasp at work.
And Katsuki knows he’s still right, that knowing someone your whole life doesn’t mean that you’re going to fall in love with them; living together doesn’t need to mean shit; and he doesn’t really give a fuck about most people most of the time. But it’s Izuku. It’s Izuku and it is nearly fucking impossible not to fall in love with someone who can’t cook to save people’s lives but made Katsuki Mapo Tofu on his birthday; someone who falls asleep on their couch waiting for Katsuki to come home from his mission so he could bandage him up; someone who can’t seem to leave Katsuki in his own peace but maybe that is exactly what he wants, even years before Katsuki knew he loved Izuku.
“Is that why you avoided me? Just because you thought I didn’t feel the same way as you?” Katsuki asks a few minutes later, after Izuku’s crying died down.
Izuku’s head snaps up from Katsuki’s neck. “Just? You have no idea how I feel.”
“Ugh, Deku.”
Izuku pushes Katsuki away. “On top of that, after you told me you weren't dating, I get news that you’re dating Camie. Tell me what am I supposed to feel about that?”
“I’m not dating Camie.”
“What?” Izuku looks flabbergasted, eyes wide open, and Katsuki wants to tell him that he looks like a dumbass bitch. Kinda like first year Izuku. “But when I asked you, you didn’t deny it.”
“I said not really," Katsuki clarifies. "And it’s just a company thing. Something about brand reputation, I don’t fucking know,” Katsuki rolls his eyes and waves his hand around his head as if that can clear up the rumour. “And when did you even see me hang out with her? That girl’s a nightmare to me.”
Izuku regards Katsuki with a suspicious look for a moment while Katsuki raises one of his eyebrows at him, before sighing and relenting. “I’m sorry.”
“For being a fucking idiot?” Katuski challenges, but there is no venom in it, just the usual playful bite he reserves for their bickering.
“You never explained it in detail,” Izuku sits down on their couch. His gaze drops to his own wringing fingers.
“You never asked,” Katsuki replies easily, following suit and sitting down on the floor in front of Izuku.
“Because then you’re going to know, that I’m in love with you, because you’re way too smart not to,” Izuku laughs dryly, his breath still hitching when he exhales.
“Then that’s good,” Katsuki breezes. “To know.”
Izuku’s gaze remains on his own hands stubbornly, and Katsuki notices from the corner of his eye the nervous wiggling of Izuku’s toes. He can’t decide if he wants to laugh or cry or crush the idiot in front of him with a hug so big and intense he could never run away again even if he wanted to.
“Deku,” Katsuki says. Then when Izuku doesn’t look up, Katsuki gently nudges the tip of his chin. “Izuku, look up.”
Izuku slowly raises his head, eyes still so teary and his nose red and sniffing that Katsuki can’t help but smile to himself and think What am I going to do with you?
“Are you still not gonna ask this time? About how I feel?”
“No,” Izuku says petulantly, looking down at the spot next to Katsuki’s crossed legs. “Just forget about it. To know that you don’t like me the way I like you is—“
“I love you back, Izuku,” Katsuki cuts him off, the words no longer hitching in his throat. Fuck that distance we've been trying to keep. “I’m telling you this time. I love you back, okay?”
Then Izuku’s green eyes grows as big as the eyes of that one cute version All Might figure they put in the living room, once again the courtesy of Izuku, and he barely manages to utter a “What?” that is entirely off pitch before Katsuki leans up and presses his mouth to Izuku’s and Izuku’s tearducts open again.
—
“Why didn’t you ever say anything about this?” Izuku asks Katsuki later that night, or morning, because they’ve decided to spend the remaining time they have talkin before a new day starts. They’ve switched places and now Izuku is sitting on the floor, his head against Katsuki’s stomach.
“I wasn’t sure,” Katsuki replies honestly, playing with a strand of Izuku’s curly hair. “I was just going to take what I can get.”
“Imagine if I never said anything,” Izuku mutters, throwing his head back and grinning up at Katsuki.
“Then I’m just gonna die thinking of you,” Katsuki tells him, both hands caressing the edge of Izuku’s jaw, tracing the edge of it lightly. “It won’t be the first time anyway.”
Izuku blushes profusely at his answer, sitting upright again. “Don’t be so honest.”
“And look where we ended up the last time we both decided we wouldn’t be honest. That had been so fucking fun, Deku.”
“Kacchan’s so mean when you should be the one thanking me,” Izuku protests, turning around to stick a tongue out at Katsuki.
“That’s bullshit,” Katsuki retorts, but he laughs along. “I still need to get even with you with the way you ran away from home and came back acting all badass and heartbroken. You’re so fucking dramatic you should just stick to being a nerd.”
“Hey! As if I didn’t run away because I like you too much,” Izuku wrinkles his nose.
Katsuki takes his time tracing the other boy’s face, all freckles ridden and soft angles. Then he grins to himself. “Yeah, whatever you say, nerd.”
As Izuku argues a little more about whether Katsuki is taking him seriously or not, he leans down and touches Izuku’s lips with his own again.
“To shut you up,” He says, and Izuku’s cheeks bleed red.
With Izuku looking down due to (both of their) embarrassment, Katsuki takes the chance to bury his face into Izuku's hair.
”I'm sorry it took me so long to make something happen," Katsuki murmurs, voice a bit muffled. "When you said it—"
"Isn't this your first time?" Izuku muses, head shifting to look at Katsuki's face again. "It's my first time too. How are we supposed to know anything?"
And looking at Izuku's soft impish grin, Katsuki's heart swells until it is pushing right against his ribcage, threatening to rip his chest apart.
"Don't you dare leave again, Deku."
Izuku promises with another clear laugh of his and lifts his head up a little to bump their noses together.
"Yeah, Kacchan."