Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki had a secret.

It wasn’t that well-hidden of a secret, but it was one that he held close to his chest. He was a huge reader. It didn’t matter if it was romance manga or murder, queer fantasy or knitting history. He loved it all. Reading had been one of the few things that could soothe him after his relationship with Izuku went south all those years ago. It was one of the few times that he and his mother could exist together without ripping each other to shreds or relying on his father to soothe their raw edges. Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou had both cultivated his love of reading, praising him for how much he enjoyed it and how much it reflected his intelligence. When the world was too much, too loud or the wrong texture, Katsuki could find solace in the written word.

From a young age, the blonde had built a quite impressive collection of books and manga. It was a horde proudly displayed throughout his home, something that his parents had initially encouraged. All that changed when Mitsuki Bakugou decided to downsize their house. 

Katsuki felt anger roiling in his gut, burning up his throat. He looked around their living room, the sparse shelves bare of his books. The books that he had decided to leave at home to collect the next time he visited. The books he trusted his parents to look after, even if he hadn’t said that out loud. 

“What. Did. You. Do?” Katsuki’s throat scratched as he forced the words out. He bit back the scream building behind his eyelids. The pressure went straight to his veins, his heart pumping faster and adrenaline flooding through him. 

“What did you say, brat?” A voice called from the kitchen. The voice, which Katsuki distantly realized belonged to his mother, was light and airy, cheerful and not at all repentant. 

“Where is everything, hag?” Katsuki’s hands shook as they clenched into fists. Footsteps clacked softly in the hallway behind him. The front door slammed as his father returned home. He turned around. Mitsuki leaned against the wall.

“What are you talking about, Katsuki?” She sounded genuinely confused, like she wasn’t at the center of his missing belongings. Over her shoulder, Katsuki could see the brown fluff of his father’s hair. Mitsuki raised an eyebrow. Desperately, Katsuki swung a hand around, gesturing to the empty shelves.

“My books?! Where the fuck are they?!” Katsuki couldn’t help the note of fear creeping into his voice. “They were here the last time I came to visit.”

“Oh, Katsuki, you scared me!” She sounded relieved. Why the fuck did she sound relieved?! “I tossed those last week. You’ve barely looked at them for years and we decided it was time to do some downsizing.” Mitsuki shrugged, smiling as she spoke. As if she hadn’t just confessed to throwing away something that mattered to him. 

Katsuki felt something shatter in his heart. “Last week?” His voice was small, so much smaller than he had ever spoken. He felt sick to his stomach. Ice poured down his skin. There was an almost inaudible ringing in his ears. His books were…gone? Thrown away like trash? Like they didn’t even matter? Like he didn’t even matter? Mitsuki blinked, looking at his face with clearer eyes.

“Katsuki?” She asked, “Is something wrong?” Just then his father walked up. 

“Hello, Katsuki! It’s good to see you again. Are you staying long?” His father’s face was cheerful. There was no twist in his brow, no glances to the side. Katsuki couldn’t speak for a moment. Masaru’s head tilted to the side, seeing his son’s ashen face. “Katsuki? Are you okay?” He turned to his wife, asking her what happened. 

“I don’t know, honey,” she replied, “I just told him about us getting rid of some junk last weekend.” Katsuki just barely bit back the keening whine building in his throat. She called it junk. SHE CALLED IT JUNK. Katsuki’s fists clenched once again, his hand balling up into the hoodie he wore. 

He coughed slightly, clearing his throat. “Can’t stay long,” he muttered. He didn’t bother to hide the huskiness of his voice, the raw ache in his throat. “Just came to check in.” Mituski’s brows crinkled.

“Katsuki? Sweetheart?” Katsuki took a deep breath.

“Gotta go before the train leaves. Good to see you again.” Katsuki turned on his heel, forcing himself to walk calmly to the door. He heard his parents protest behind him, but ignored it in favor of slinging his backpack onto his shoulders. It was filled with a weekend’s worth of clothes and some collapsible storage bins for the books he had planned to take back to campus with him. One of his parents, Katsuki couldn’t tell which, called out to him just as he slammed the door closed. He breathed out a shaky sigh, feeling his eyes burn. He didn’t let a single tear fall until he had closed the gate to his parents’ property and began the trek back to UA.

A soft thumping at his door brought Katsuki out of his sulking reverie. His face twisted. No one was supposed to be here. The rest of the class had gone home for the weekend. Aizawa was with his husband and children. He had come here because he needed to be alone so he wouldn’t blast his parents to bits. 

He looked over at the door before standing up. His phone, shut off, tumbled off the bed. He had switched the device off after declining the fifth call from his parents. He couldn’t talk to them right now, not until he was in control of his emotions again. Therapy had taught him at least that much. Remove yourself from the situation before you do or say something you regret . Give yourself time to process things.  That’s what Hound Dog had told him at the beginning of their meetings. If nothing else, the hero’s advice would keep him out of prison for patricide. 

The person on the other side of the door knocked once again. Taking a deep, soothing breath, Katsuki scowled and wrenched the door open. 

Izuku fucking Midoriya stood framed in his doorway. His hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt, scarred fingers passing over the fabric with self-soothing motions. The shorter boy rocked back and forth on his feet. 

“Hi, Kacchan,” he said. His voice was subdued, much quieter than usual. 

“The fuck do you want, nerd?” Katsuki’s voice lacked its usual bite. Instead of anger, he just sounded tired. 

“Um,” Izuku hesitated. 

“Just spit it out.”

“Sorry, Kacchan. I’m just trying to figure out how to say this succinctly. Oh, never mind.” Katsuki blinked, opening his mouth. Before he could say anything, Izuku continued. “Your mother texted me asking if you were okay. She said you ran out on them. Based on the fact that you initially planned to stay over the weekend at your parents, and the fact that you’re sitting in your room with the lights off, I’m guessing she did or said something that upset you. Is that right?” Izuku’s head tilted to the side. Despite his shitty mood, Katsuki felt his heart melt a little. He looked so much like a puppy in that moment. Then, he processed what the other boy had said. He scowled once again, slumping further down and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Can’t believe she’d get you involved in this shit,” he grumbled. Izuku stepped forward, one arm slightly raised as if to give comfort. The arm quickly retracted, flapping wildly before returning to its ministrations on his shirt. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” For a moment, Katsuki felt the ugly head of his pride and embarrassment rear up inside of him. The thought of telling someone what had happened felt physically painful, especially because he could predict what his classmates would say:

Why does that matter?

I mean, it’s her house. Doesn’t she have that right?

They’re just books. You can replace them.

Why are you so upset about this?

You’re overreacting. 

There was something, though, that ached to tell Izuku. Katsuki’s gut told him that the green haired boy would understand, or at least not make fun of him for being so upset about this. Before Katsuki had ripped a hole between them, he and Izuku shared a love of reading. After their fight at Ground Beta, Katsuki had begun reading in Izuku’s presence, slowly getting used to sharing part of his life with the other boy once again.

If nothing else, Izuku wouldn’t judge him for being so illogically attached to a bunch of books that he hadn’t had the time or energy to read in a while. Katsuki scrubbed a hand down his face. He gestured for Izuku to come in. He slouched over as he shuffled back to his bed, sinking down into the flimsy mattress. Izuku tucked a foot under himself before curling up on his desk chair. His other foot, still on the ground, pushed the chair back and forth. The green haired boy’s head tilted to the side, resting on the crest of his knee. Izuku looked in his direction expectantly. Katsuki let out another sigh before explaining what had happened. 

“She said it was junk, Izuku.” Katsuki pretended not to notice the unconscious blink Izuku did upon hearing his full name. “It’s like she didn’t care that it was important to me, that those were my books that I bought with my own money and they were important to me.” Katsuki let out a breath that sounded more like a sob. “That’s the only thing that should’ve mattered, that they were important to me. ” Katsuki looked down, bracing his elbows on his thighs. He heard the rustling of fabric as Izuku shifted somewhere in the room. The bed shifted, dipping down next to him.

“Do you want physical affection?” Izuku’s question was soft, bereft of judgment. Katsuki nodded before being pulled into strong arms. Izuku was chilled around him, skin seeming cold in comparison to his own. It was soothing, like icing a sprained wound or applying balm to a burn. One of Izuku’s hands, scarred and gentle, dragged lines up and down his back. The shorter boy’s head was tucked into the juncture of his neck. Katsuki felt Izuku’s hair prickle against his cheek as the other boy shifted to mumble in his ear.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” he murmured, “You’re allowed to be angry about this. Let yourself feel this.” Katsuki buried his face into Izuku’s shoulder. His arms tensed against the other boy. Izuku let him do what he needed, breathing through the creak of his ribs as Katsuki squeezed him too tight. Eventually, Katsuki relaxed, sagging into Izuku’s embrace. The boys were quiet for a moment.

“I know it doesn’t fix the problem,” Izuku began, “But last weekend, when I was home, I ran by your house on my jog. I saw Auntie putting some boxes out by the curb. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and I couldn’t sleep that night, so I checked it out during the night.”

“When did you go?”

“Hmm?”

“I need to know if I should picture you as a garbage-stealing racoon or a cryptid.”

Izuku snorted. “For your information, stinky man, it was three thirty five in the morning and I dug through your parents’ trash like an upstanding citizen - hunched over and paranoid.” Katsuki laughed at that. He felt Izuku smile against the side of his head. “I picked up as many of the boxes as I could and took them home with me. I got a few trips in before I triggered the flood lights. Got away just before your parents came out to threaten me.” He paused. “I didn’t know the whole story, or I would’ve told you right away. And I don’t know if I was able to save all of them. I’m sorry, Kacchan.”

Izuku felt the other boy tremble in his arms. He closed his eyes and resumed his ministrations on the other’s back, ignoring the growing damp spot on his shoulder. Eventually, Katsuki sniffed and pulled away. He sat watching his hands. With another sniff, he spoke.

“Thanks, nerd.” His voice was rough and raw. “It…it means a lot to me. That you did that.” 

Oh, this sweet boy. I just love him so much, Izuku thought. 

“Miss me with that gay shit” was what Izuku actually said to Katsuki. The blonde rolled his eyes, grinning. 

“Damn, nerd. Gotta come for my throat like that?” Izuku laughed. 

“The boxes are in my room. I’ll bring them down tomorrow when we’re both rested and we can go through them to see what’s missing.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Sorting through the books in the morning found a tinge of melancholy working its way down Katsuki’s throat. So many of his books were there, saved from the flames by Izuku’s fucked up hands. But he still couldn’t help mourning the ones that were missing, that had been tossed or left behind. Izuku said nothing, but squeezed his hand.

A few days later, Katsuki opened his door one day to see a wrapped package with this name on it sitting innocently outside his dorm door. He picked it up, recognizing the familiar scrawl. He felt his heart melt as he ripped open the package to reveal a copy of one of his missing books. 

Sweet baby, king of my heart, Katsuki thought.

“Sappy fuckin’ nerd,” is what Katsuki actually proclaimed.

Chapter Text

Loving Izuku Midoriya was as easy as breathing. At least for Katsuki Bakugou, it was. After years of growing apart and growing together, their relationship ebbing and flowing like the tide, they decided to move in togetherT. After all, Katsuki reasoned, they’d be safer if they lived together and rent would be cheaper. Ignoring the fact that they were the Number 1 and 2 heroes and had the salaries to match, it was sound logic. With Izuku’s enthusiastic agreement, Katsuki couldn’t tell if the green haired man was dumb or just lonely. 

Regardless, Katsuki fully intended to exploit Izuku’s amiability with sharing a living space with him. Ever since they began to mend their relationship, Katsuki could feel himself falling in love a bit with the nerd. When Izuku had saved his books like a white knight in a fucking fairy tale, Katsuki had fallen hard the rest of the way into love. He couldn’t help it. Having been raised on tales of chivalry and age-inappropriate romance novels, he couldn’t help but love Izuku for his kindness and passion and drive. 

And, a man who understands and supports your passions without judgment and with ardent enthusiasm is hot, okay? Forgive him for simping for the man who unabashedly cares about Katsuki and what Katsuki cares about. 

One thing that Katsuki’s learned while living with his beloved: Izuku Midoriya’s sleep schedule is the most fucked up thing he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. There had been days where Katsuki would wake up to see that Izuku still hadn’t gone to sleep. It was slightly endearing, but mostly concerning. He had confronted the other about it once. Izuku stuttered and blabbered until the blonde had simply given up, throwing his arms in the air and resigning himself to have an absolute cryptid as a roommate. One small mercy, it seemed though, was that Izuku was painfully aware of how much noise he made at any given time. He kept his noise level to a minimum while trying to find things to soothe his insomnia.

It was one such morning that Katsuki woke up to. He and Izuku had a rare weekend off together, their schedules aligning with some intervention by a divine being (or simply Momo Yaoyorozu, who was essentially the only person in their entire agency capable of being a functioning adult). As the sun rose, Katsuki felt its warm rays pool against his stomach. He let out a small yawn, scrubbing one hand across his eye as he sat up in bed. Normally, the apartment was either dead silent or filled with the quiet sounds of Izuku puttering around in his room. Today though, there was a rhythmic thumping echoing through the air. Katsuki’s brows furrowed at the sound. 

The thumping stopped, followed by a sharp intake of breath and muttered curses. Katsuki stood up from bed and walked towards the source of the noise. As he neared the source, the voice stopped cursing and began mumbling. It was too low and fast to make out so early in the morning, but it identified just who was making it. Katsuki turned the corner to see an odd sight.

Izuku sat in the middle of their living room, nestled in a sea of wooden planks. The other man held a paper sheaf in one hand. His other one curled near his chin, half-obscuring his mouth as he mumbled to himself. Katsuki’s eyes rose as his eyes raked over the scene. A hammer lay next to the green haired man. Just behind the other’s head, Katsuki could see some sort of shelf-like structure rising up from the floor. It looked oddly like a…bookcase?

The blonde man stepped forward, clearing his throat of morning residue. Izuku squeaked, jumping. The papers flailed out of his hands as the green haired man turned to him. They locked eyes. Confused crimson met startled emeralds. Katsuki raised an eyebrow. 

“The fuck are you doing, nerd?” Katsuki’s voice was low, rumbling in his chest. Izuku blinked at him, squinting a bit, before his eyes widened. 

“Err, what time is it?” He asked. Katsuki snorted before turning to the clock. 

“About six in the goddamn morning, dumbass. Did you sleep at all?” Izuku flushed, his shoulders hitching up to his ears. He gave Katsuki a nervous smile.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, his lips quirking up into a little smile. “Bed, nerd.” He reached out a hand to Izuku. “You can finish whatever the fuck this is when you wake back up.” Izuku’s eyes widened and he shot up. Frantically, he began pushing Katsuki away from the mess, muttering “ohnoohnoohnoohnoohno” under his breath. Katsuki leaned back, digging his heels into the ground. 

“What’s your problem, dumbass?” Katsuk questioned. Izuku pushed harder against his back. Katsuki lent more weight onto him.Unstoppable force met immovable object and the two were stuck at an impasse in their half-destroyed living room. Izuku groaned. Katsuki felt Izuku shifting behind him.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” Katsuki could hear the pout in his voice. 

“A surprise?”

“...yeah.” 

Katsuki huffed a laugh. Despite what his friends might believe, he had mellowed out a lot since high school. And there was something in him that just wanted to bend to Izuku’s every whim. “Alright, nerd. I’ll let you surprise me.”

“Really?!” Izuku whispered, elated. He jumped up, releasing the pressure from Katsuki’s back. The blonde squawked as he felt himself fall backwards before being caught in strong, scarred arms. “Oops! Sorry, Kacchan.” Katsuki looked up at Izuku’s bashful little smile. The nerd had a dusting of pink across his cheeks, a sign of his embarrassment. 

“Let me up, idiot.” Izuku jumped to action, scrambling to help Katsuki up to his feet again. Katsuki raked a hand through his hair, feeling the scratch of his nails against his scalp. His hand slid down to his neck and across to his cheek. He rubbed half-heartedly at one eye.

“How long am I gonna have to avoid the fucking ‘surprise’, nerd?” Katsuki barked. “I got shit to do.” By ‘shit to do’ he meant watching overly dramatic soap operas in Spanish and reading on the couch while Izuku inevitably dozed on his shoulder. Izuku’s hands clasped in front of his chin.

“It’s almost done! Probably only another hour!” Izuku seemed so excited; his eyes were alight and he bounced as he stood. Katsuki fought the urge to pepper his face with kisses as punishment for being so cute. 

“Alright, nerd,” he said, not even trying to fight the smile stretching across his face, “I’ll make us some coffee. Come get me when you’re done and we can see whatever monstrosity you’ve cooked up.” Izuku pouted.

“Mean, Kacchan!” The green haired man ‘hmmph’ed and walked away, skipping a bit every other step. Once Katsuki heard what sounded like building coming from the living room, he walked over to the kitchen and began cooking.

Katsuki felt the rough skin of Izuku’s scars brush gently against the delicate skin of his eyelid as the other man guided him to the living room. The blonde’s hands were around his wrists, gripping just enough to ground. The pair shuffled forward. Katsuki felt Izuku’s socked toes bump against his heels as the shorter man padded behind him. There was a change in the air, like a door opening up.

“Okay, Kacchan. We’re here!” Izuku’s voice was bright. “I’m gonna let you look now, okay?”

“Yeah, nerd. Now move your hands or I’ll bite them.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku pouted even as Katsuki laughed. He felt Izuku’s hands fall away from his face. The sun blazed in across his closed eyelids and everything lit up in shades of reddish pink. Katsuki blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the light. His eyes finally focused on the two objects towering over their dinky ass coffee table. 

Two brown bookshelves cut through the middle of their living room. Katsuki’s mouth dropped open. As if in a trance, he stepped forward. One hand came up to trace across one of the shelves. It wobbled a bit under his touch. The bookshelves were put together a bit clumsily, but they were sturdy and they were there. Izuku…had done this just for him? Katsuki thought to himself.
The blonde man turned back to face Izuku, one hand still touching the shelf. His eyes felt wet. He blinked a few times to clear his vision.

Izuku stood silently in front of him. His hands were clasped in front of his mouth and he looked to be fighting off a huge grin. He bounced on the balls of his feet, looking like a rabbit with his little hops in place. 

“You-” Katsuki’s voice cut off as he choked on his words. He cleared his throat and tried again, hearing how damp his voice sounded and not caring. “You built this? For me?” 

Izuku nodded vehemently, the movements of his head almost matching to his toe bouncing. 

“I noticed that you still keep your books in the containers that you used during the move. We didn’t have any shelves so I figured you’d need some. I wasn’t sure where you wanted to put them, but they’re pretty easy to move.” As he spoke, Izuku’s hands unclasped and began winding themselves around each other. It was usually a sign that the other was nervous. Katsuki, looking at his hands, saw bandaids wrapped around his fingers and crisscrossing against the backs of his hands. “Is that okay? I didn’t…overstep, did I?” Katsuki could hear the anxiety creeping up the back of Izuku’s throat, sending his words wobbling. 

Katsuki pulled away from the shelves and strode across the distance between them. “This is the nicest fucking thing someone’s ever done for me, nerd. Thank you, Izuku. I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that you did this.” He paused. Then, in a voice much more sly and confident than he felt, he said, “Romantic as fuck, too. I’d kiss ya if I knew you’d be okay with it.” He saw Izuku’s face flush and he turned away, afraid that he had irrevocably ruined their relationship. 

He paused when Izuku spoke. “...I’m okay with it.” Izuku’s voice was small. Katsuki whipped around. Izuku was looking off to the side, blush still high on his cheeks. His hands fiddled with each other. 

“...You would?” Katsuki couldn’t help how hopeful his voice sounded. Finally, Izuku looked at him straight on. He smiled. 

“I would.” He paused. “I’ve kind of been in love with you since I was five.” 

“Well,” Katsuki almost choked on his words, “You’ve waited long enough then, haven’t you?” He pulled Izuku into his arms. Both men flushed as their lips met. Katsuki saw Izuku’s eyes flutter shut as their lips met. Katsuki’s eyes shut as well. 

Izuku’s lips were warm against his. They were chapped, and Katsuki could feel the spot where Izuku’s lip kept splitting because of the dry mouth caused by his medication. Warmth pooled into his stomach, flooding through his bones and melding to his skin. The two of them fit together as if destined to be one, pottery pulled together and sealed in veins of gold. Eventually, they pulled away from each other. 

“Was the wait worth it, Izuku?” Katsuki asked, a smile in his voice. Izuku laughed and nodded before pulling Katsuki into his arms once again. 

And years later, when their bones were weary and there were no more villains to fight, those two bookshelves - rickety and cheap as they were - stood in a place of honor in the house that they loved, forever a piece of the library of Katsuki Bakugou.