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It’s a horrible day for rain, and Katsuki is fucking miserable.
It all started with an earthquake during his shift, destroying half of downtown and wrecking up about a dozen city blocks, which had all on-call heroes scrambling to help within about thirty minutes of the initial destruction, pulling civilians out of the rubble and setting up shelters close by for the sake of evacuation. The area was a mess, the streets still littered with debris as heroes rushed about, trying to uncover as much as they could, guiding the injured toward safety and evacuating the few remaining buildings that were still standing. Practically every Pro Hero was there, called in to help assist with the rescue efforts, and as they slowly chipped away at fallen rubble and provided crisis relief, time began to drag on and on with no end in sight.
Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he’d been at this. Hours probably. Maybe even a whole day. He didn’t really know anymore. All he knew was—after coming out of a broken alleyway, a little girl he’d found now tucked safely in his arms—he finally noticed the first sprinkles of rain. He glanced up at the sky, taking note of the thick clouds and the smell of mist already gathering in the air above them, before letting out a long sigh and stepping over some fallen rubble, slowly making his way back toward the main line of the road.
He fucking hated the rain.
At this point, Katsuki had already lost track of the number of people he’d managed to save, faces blending and mixing together as it became one person after another after another. And as he finally made it back onto the street, he realized the little girl he held was just the same. Even as a woman ran up to him, relieved tears spilling from her eyes as she took the girl from his arms and began to thank him profusely, he didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. He vaguely realized he was supposed to say something, but he felt numb as she bowed to him, and even more numb as he watched her hug the child close, burying her face into the crook of the girl's shoulder and peppering her with kisses. Then, the woman turned back toward him, a questioning look on her face, and he could only stare at her lips as they moved, feeling vacant and empty and so, so far away as he watched a drop of rain hit her already tear-stained cheek.
It was going to start pouring pretty soon.
Then, suddenly, he felt a light hand on his arm, and he blinked as he was drawn out of his trance, turning to see Todoroki at his side, the static in his ears suddenly fading away as he listened to that calming, monotone voice he always had.
“...shelter. It’s about four blocks east. They’ll have food and water and they’ll give your daughter any medical attention she might need.”
The woman nodded and thanked them once more, pulling the girl a little closer as she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Then, Todoroki finally glanced over at him, a concerned furrow creasing his brow, and Katsuki looked back at him, taking note of his appearance. He hadn’t seen him since the beginning of the crisis relief, Todoroki being one of the heroes on-call for this sort of thing, but now he stood covered head to toe in dirt, the first few sprinkles of rain starting to gather in his hair, and Katsuki instinctively felt the need to throw a towel at his head and tell him to wipe it away before he caught a cold because of his dumb ice quirk.
But Todoroki’s eyes were already searching his, a tiny frown starting at the corner of his lips as he finally asked in a gentle tone, “You alright?”
His hand was still lying lightly on Katsuki’s bicep, and Katsuki quickly shrugged him off, not used to such an intimate display of concern from the other, before muttering a quick, “I’m fine.” Then he glanced around again, scanning the area for anything else he could do, and asked, “What’s next?”
There was a little sigh, which had Katsuki turning his attention back to Todoroki just as his shoulders slumped a little, his dirt-streaked face turning weary. “Bakugou,” he started softly, “You know…you can head back now. Your shift was supposed to end hours ago. You should really take a break.”
Bakugou felt himself stiffen, tension knotting his shoulders and his expression falling blank as he carefully raised his defenses. He wasn’t sure what Todoroki had seen when he scanned his face, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let him think he wasn’t capable of doing his job. Every other hero on-call was still out here—still helping—and Katsuki wasn’t planning on leaving until he’d saved everyone he possibly could. After all, that’s what heroes do.
That’s what Izuku would do.
He vaguely recalled the last time he’d seen his partner, just before his shift, reaching up groggily from his sleep to catch Katsuki’s wrist before he could slip out of their bedroom. Katsuki had paused mid-stride to glance back, taking in Izuku’s heavy eyes and sleepy features as he murmured a drowsy, “Already?” before letting out a long-suffering sigh and burying his head back into the pillows. Katsuki had just reached back to run a reassuring hand through his curls and let a kiss fall on top of his head, and then Izuku was suddenly pulling his head up again and stealing another from his lips.
“Be careful,” Katsuki remembered him murmuring, “and come home soon.”
Just the memory of those words was enough to make his knees buckle with exhaustion. He’d give just about anything to be back home right now, back under a thick blanket and curled into Izuku’s warmth. But Katsuki knew, even if he headed back right now, there wouldn’t be anyone there to greet him. Izuku was on-call today, and even if he wasn’t, as soon as he’d heard about the earthquake, there was no doubt he would’ve come running. Which meant, he was somewhere out here too, in this god-awful rain, his crooked bones definitely aching with the sudden change in barometric pressure (like they always did) but still managing to push through it like it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
And if he was still out here, helping out, Katsuki had no excuse not to do the same.
“I said I’m fine,” he finally growled, his voice rough from hours of misuse, yelling out directions and calling for backup and talking down scared children from panicked tears, “So? What’s next?”
“Bakugou…” Todoroki countered, a new sharpness to his voice, but he trailed off just as quickly, glancing Katsuki up and down with a single movement of his eyes, a flicker of recognition passing over his face. For a split second, it was like he could read exactly what Katsuki was thinking, before he was shaking his head and glancing away. “Forget it,” he muttered, reaching up and brushing at the right side of his bangs, snowflakes falling from where his fingers met the water droplets before nodding his head toward the side, “Just follow me.”
He started walking off, back down the main road, and Katsuki trailed in his wake, making their way past numerous heroes and civilians, carefully climbing over lumps of stone and large chunks of rubble. It wasn’t exactly crowded, but the different conversations—panicked cries, and understanding tones of it’s okay, we’re here to help— still had Katsuki tuning out his surroundings, pinning his gaze to the pavement just behind Todoroki’s shoes and following him without question. He didn’t know where they were going, but he realized that he trusted the hero to take him where he was needed, even without an explanation.
And if Katsuki wasn’t so numb at the moment, that thought might’ve pissed him off, but for now he just let it slide off his back like it was nothing. Like it was just another part of the rain.
It had started to come down heavier now, not exactly pouring, but not light enough to be considered a drizzle. He could already feel the droplets slipping down his hair, running cool paths down his cheeks and slowly seeping into his collar. He could feel the metal of his costume begin to cool off, his arms growing heavy with the weight of his bracers. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to take them off, and he didn’t bother to now either, just let his hands droop at his sides and watched as the puddles underneath their feet began to grow larger.
Finally, after what could’ve been a few minutes (or hours, he just didn’t know anymore) Todoroki finally came to a halt in front of him and murmured, “We’re here.”
Katsuki slowly lifted his head, then blinked, frowning as he took in the scene around them. There was no rubble or toppled buildings, no civilians in need of saving or heroes bustling about. Instead, they were in what seemed to be a courtyard, squished in between two city blocks, completely clear of any wreckage from the earthquake. There were a couple temporary pop-up tents set up, one that read POLICE and the other MEDICAL, with a few emergency vehicles and news vans nearby. Outside, there was a small crowd of familiar heroes, either standing in small huddles or sitting on a nearby step of stone, some of whom were quietly laughing while others just remained silent. Katsuki noticed that a few of them held cups of coffee, gently sipping every few moments as they chatted amicably, before he finally shot a frown toward Todoroki.
“The fuck is this?” he asked.
“Center of operations,” Todoroki replied, before nodding over toward the small crowd and murmuring, “Those are the heroes who have been on shift since last night. You know,” he said testily, “the same shift you worked? You should be on break with them.”
Katsuki scoffed. God, he should’ve known better. He should’ve known IcyHot would pull some stupid underhanded shit like this—just like Izuku. The green-haired hero was always making sure Katsuki was taking care of himself, forcing him to stay home at even the slightest hint of sickness or injury, and Kastuki wouldn’t be surprised if he’d texted Todoroki earlier and asked him to keep an eye out; like he was his fucking babysitter. The two of them were always conspiring—both a giant pain in his ass ever since their very first work study—but he’d already said he was fine, and he wouldn’t stoop so low as to lie about it. It wasn’t like he was sick, and he sure as hell wasn’t injured, so as far as Katsuki was concerned, he could still do his fucking job. There was still work to do. There were still people who needed to be saved. Who needed his help.
“This is a waste of time—” he snapped at Todoroki, quickly turning away, but before he could get very far, the other hero was suddenly grabbing his arm and yanking him back again.
Bakugou stumbled, uncharacteristically unbalanced on his own two feet, before letting out an annoyed, “Hey!” as Todoroki grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down onto the courtyard's wet step. Bakugou practically fell backward, his ass hitting the stone and sending a jolt up his spine, before he was suddenly casting Todoroki a ferocious glare and trying to climb back to his feet.
“The fuck!” he snapped, surging forward, “Ya wanna start something, IcyHot?!” but just as quickly Todoroki was placing his hands on Katsuki’s shoulders and forcing him down again, his knees buckling easily underneath the added weight and sending his ass back into the concrete. Katsuki immediately struggled against the other hero’s grip, raising a heavy arm and grabbing at his wrist, trying to push him away as he seethed, “Get. The fuck. Off.”
But if Todoroki heard him, he just ignored it, bending his head so they were eye-to-eye, and meeting Katsuki’s fierce glower head-on. “Look at yourself,” he said, his tone even and methodical, “You can barely even lift your arms, nevertheless stand. Your entire body is shaking with exhaustion. You need rest.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki gritted out, gloved hands still gripping at Todoroki’s forearms, still trying to shake him off, “I told you, I’m fine—”
“You’re not,” Todoroki interjected, a sharpness entering his tone, “Just listen—”
“You’re dead!” Katsuki barked.
“Five minutes, then.”
He stopped struggling for a moment, gaze still brimming with anger as he looked up at Todoroki’s mismatched eyes, before letting out a gruff, “Hah?”
“Just sit here for five minutes and then we can go back. You can count them if you have to,” Todoroki reasoned, hands still placed firmly on top of Katsuki’s shoulders, trapping him against the wet stone.
Katuski frowned, eyes narrowing as he searched the other hero’s gaze for any sign of deception, but the offer seemed genuine enough. Todoroki was still staring at him with a piercing intensity, no creases of concern or obvious hints of worry lacing his expression, so Katsuki finally allowed himself to relax, letting go of Todoroki’s arms with a quiet huff as he relented.
“Fine,” he muttered, ducking his head toward the tiled stones at his feet, now pooling with fresh rainwater, “Five minutes.”
“Good,” Todoroki responded, before finally lifting his arms off of Katsuki’s shoulders, “I’ll be right back.”
He turned away, heading toward the Police tent, where some of the other heroes were mingling outside, but Katsuki didn’t bother looking after him, having already zoned out on the tile at his feet, gaze now locked on a growing puddle, rippling with water droplets as it began to extend toward the tips of his orange soled boots. The leather had grown shiny and slick in the rain, and he could feel streaks of water running down his face and dripping off his chin. It was cold, invading the collar of his costume and beginning to seep downward, running paths between his shoulders and down his spine, and he felt himself shiver, letting out a hot breath that stained the cool air, mist clinging to his body. Even his fingers had begun to go numb, and as he looked down at his gloved hands, he finally noticed that his arms were trembling.
Your entire body is shaking with exhaustion.
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed, letting out a sigh as he slammed down on his grenadiers release and removed the bracers from his arms, setting them down on the ground beside him. He could feel his hands twitching as he did, probably having worn them for way longer than he was used to, his arm muscles aching with the sudden change in weight, and he carefully flexed his knuckles, trying his best not to injure anything while stretching them out. After all, he only had another four minutes to go, and he wanted to get back out there as soon as possible.
Besides, this was nothing compared to what Izuku usually endured during this kind of weather. His crooked bones always went stiff and achy with the drop in barometric pressure, and Katsuki was usually the one to step in whenever things got too painful for him to do by himself. It was probably one of the only upsides to rainy days, getting to hold Izuku’s hands and gently cure his pain, carefully warming them with his quirk as they sat in bed and listened to the rain pound against the concrete outside.
But now, instead of getting to hold on to his boyfriend’s warmth, the rain kept beating down heavier and heavier, soaking into every crevasse of Katsuki’s skin and running into his eyes. Water stuck to his lashes, blurring his vision slightly, and the ends of his hair began to droop with the weight, damp bangs clinging to his forehead. Katsuki wanted to stand, to find shelter from this awful weather before he inevitably caught a cold, but he just didn’t have the energy. He was bone-tired, exhaustion seeping into every part of him as he stared off into space. His gaze felt heavy and unfocused, his mind numb, thoughts drifting into a blank sort of nothing. His body was stiff and aching with overuse, his feet hurt from standing for so long and his shoulders twinged from moving so much rubble. He was tired, disheveled, and dirty, and he wanted nothing more than to just be free of this miserable rain. To go home and just hide from it all. But he still had a job to do, a duty to fulfill, and he wasn’t out of energy yet. As long as he was still standing, he would lend his hand to help.
But as the rain carried on, Katsuki lost count of his five minutes, and time slowly slipped away.
-
It’s a horrible day for rain, and Izuku’s bones are aching .
It was always like this when there was bad weather, old injuries and crooked joints cramping up with the cold, making it harder to move his arms and flex his fingers. Still, he’d learned to deal with it over the years, even though small tasks of gripping and holding were significantly harder than usual, and it was always a chore to try and do anything involving lifting. Normally, on days like this, he’d be let off the hook from some of his more demanding duties—or when it was particularly terrible, Kacchan would give him an earful about how he should just stay home and give himself a break—but today was neither one of those days. Instead, as a 24/7 on-call hero, Izuku woke up with cramping muscles to a blaring earthquake alert on his phone, and didn’t even have time to stretch out his wrist before throwing on his costume and heading out the door.
He’d been at it all day, moving rubble, carrying around injured civilians, and assisting other heroes. Most of the time he was able to rely on Blackwhip, especially with some of the heavier lifting, but there were just some tasks that required a more delicate touch; like comforting a scared child, or attending to someone’s wounds. In those instances, his own pain seemed of little importance compared to theirs, and it wasn’t like his old injuries were crippling him.
But it still hurt, and as the clouds began to pour heavy drops down on the city as he worked, Izuku realized that it was only starting to get worse.
He was in the middle of wrapping a little boy’s forearm, a large gash carrying across his skin, tears running over his cheeks as Izuku murmured quiet comforts to him. He had at least calmed down since Izuku had found him balling, his injury not even a result of the earthquake, but rather the rain—which had slickened the stone and caused him to slip and fall on a sharp piece of debris. His mother had immediately flagged down Izuku, worry evident in her eyes as his blood gushed from the wound, and Izuku had quickly led them to a nearby overhang, wrestling some emergency bandages out of his pockets before pulling off his gloves with his teeth and carefully beginning to clean and wrap the boy’s injury. Still, as his hands trailed lightly over the wound, he could feel his fingers clicking, joints cramping up with the exposure to the cold, knuckles aching as he plastered on a reassuring smile and tied the final knot of the boy’s bandage.
“There, all done. You did so well,” he said softly, reaching up gently to brush some of the tears from the boy’s chin before quickly standing up, grabbing his gloves as he went. Then, he pinned his gaze back on the boy’s mother before he pointed down the street, “Three blocks that way, then one left. That’ll take you to the nearest shelter. Try to be careful with your footing. The heroes there will give him another look-over—oh! And stay out of the rain if you can. You should do your best to keep those bandages dry.”
“We will, thank you,” the boy’s mother said with a nod, gently pulling at the collar of the boy’s coat as she did, hiding his newly bandaged arm under puffy blue vinyl. “And—” she hesitated slightly, but Izuku’s attention had already pulled to her eyes, worry still lacing her expression as she finished, “—you should be careful too,” and Izuku watched, wide-eyed, as she sunk into a respectful bow and softly added, “Please.”
Izuku blinked, about to open his mouth to object (after all, this was his job) but she was already steering her son away, a hand now firmly wrapped around the boy’s, there to support him just in case he slipped again as they both headed toward the shelter. His gaze drifted after them, until the heavy mist became too thick to see them any longer, before he finally glanced back down at the gloves in his hands, readying himself to put them back on.
Only problem was, his fingers were trembling.
He stared for a second, partially surprised at the sudden stilt to his bones, before quickly attempting to wrestle on his gloves. Unfortunately, his jittering did nothing to help the situation, rendering him useless as he let out a stiff sigh and tried desperately to pull at the cuffs. It was as if all the strength in his grip had suddenly left him, and now he was stuck with nothing but a tight soreness and shaky hands.
Usually, if it ever got this bad in the middle during a patrol (especially in the winter time) this would be the point at which he would reach his stupidity limit and turn to Kacchan for assistance. Izuku would mumble some sort of useless, embarrassed apology as the explosive hero began to pull off his gloves without hesitation, gently tugging at Izuku as he muttered quiet insults and jibes, cradling his scarred hand in his own before meticulously massaging gentle circles into the pads of his knuckles. Izuku would immediately let out a sigh of relief, ducking his head and closing his eyes as Kacchan’s quirk-warmed hands worked their magic. It never failed to release the tension trapped there, or to cure the throbbing ache that plagued him on bitterly cold days, and afterward Izuku was always sure to push a light kiss into his lips and offer a soft breath of thanks; if only to watch a flustered blush crawl across Katsuki’s cheeks.
It had become just one of the many ways Katsuki took care of him, looked after him, loved him, and as Izuku continued to struggle with getting the material back onto his hands, he found himself wishing his boyfriend was here to help.
That was, until he suddenly remembered the rain.
If there was one thing to know about Katsuki, it was that he hated the rain. He hated it like his life depended on it and avoided it like the plague. Mainly it had to do with his quirk, because it was always a struggle for him to get a spark started in weather like this, leaving most of his blasts at only half their usual strength. Logistically, he usually had to increase his stamina and decrease his speed, which he also hated. And even though Izuku had talked him through about a hundred and ten ways to conserve his energy in times like this, when there was an emergency and he couldn’t get away, he’d never hated it any less.
The trouble was, Katsuki had left their apartment late last night, since he’d been running the dead man’s shift for his patrol this week. But as far as Izuku knew, all heroes were still on-call, which meant he was still out and about helping with the rescue efforts in the aftermath of the earthquake… which meant…
The realization hit Izuku suddenly, like a brick to the face, and he immediately let out a frustrated groan, ending in an aggravated, “—ARGH!” as he pushed the bare knuckles of his right hand into his forehead, bashing his skull softly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He crouched down, gripping his gloves fiercely in his left hand and causing his achy joints to spike with pain, but he barely felt it, preoccupied with doing the math in his head, before finally letting out a quiet swear under his breath.
Nine. Nine hours. It had been nine hours since Katsuki’s shift had started late last night . Which meant, despite the fact that he should’ve been off his shift ages ago, he was still out here, working in the pouring rain.
The thought made Izuku’s stomach churn with frustration and anxiety. Any hero could run themselves ragged in emergency situations like this one, but most knew their limits and knew when to take the appropriate time to clock out. Hell, even Izuku (who was known for pushing a little too far beyond from time to time) had grown accustomed to taking a breather every now and then. But Katsuki… wasn’t like that. In his head, he didn’t have any limits, and therefore didn’t register when he pushed past them. At least, not until he was hurt, so numb to the pain in his own limbs that he barely even felt it at all. Katsuki only knew one thing; one foot in front of the other—and unless someone dragged him away from his duties, he was probably still out in the field, trying his best to help.
Damnit, Izuku thought, grinding down on his teeth. He should be finding him, pulling him away, forcing him to take a breather. He should be taking care of him, the same way Katsuki cared for him, by holding him close and easing his pain. He should be—
“Deku? Is everything okay?”
Izuku’s head immediately whipped up to see Ochako standing over him, hands balanced carefully on her knees as she raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He blinked at her a few times, her costume soaked through and dripping, a wet puddle forming on the concrete underneath her boots, before shooting to his feet, waving his hands dismissively as he mustered up a smile.
“Yes, of course! I’m fine. It’s nothing…” he trailed off, scrubbing his fingers through his green curls as he ducked his head, tacticfully aiming his gaze at the ground between their feet, only to look up again when Ochako took a step forward.
“Is it your hands? I can help with your gloves,” she said, offering him a bright smile, though it looked weirdly out of place among her other features, forced through the dark circles under her eyes and the dirt that speckled her cheeks. She even had a few scratches on her forehead, which she’d gotten earlier due to some loose rubble raining down on top of her, and Izuku felt his eyes widening slightly as she dropped her gaze to his gloves and gently took them from his shaky grasp.
“Uraraka,” he murmured quietly, “it’s okay, I can—” but she was already taking his aching hand in hers and pulling his gloves on carefully, her smile suddenly softening into something smaller and more genuine.
“You’re frustrated,” she started, carefully adjusting the cuff of his glove on his right wrist before moving to the left, gently cradling his palm in her hand, “I get it. We all are. This rain is making our jobs so much harder…” she trailed off as she finished, glancing up at him with an understanding he recognized all too well, before saying, “But I can also tell you’re worried.”
Worried. Worried was an understatement. Worried wasn’t enough to describe the pull that tugged at his heart, begging him to follow it to wherever Katsuki was. Worried didn’t account for the guilt he felt at not giving Katsuki an extra kiss before he’d left last night, or the frustration he felt at not being able to be with him now. Worried couldn’t describe the inexplicable longing and loneliness he knew whenever the two of them were apart; a loneliness all too familiar, that could only cut deeper under a miserable cloud of rain.
Ochako must’ve seen it on his face, because her hands quickly wrapped around one of his gloves and squeezed gently, offering him a small reassurance before letting it slip away, turning back toward the rain and gazing out into the fog.
“We should probably head back now,” she started softly, “since this area’s finally cleared. And maybe get your hands checked out too, if there’s time. The shift change is happening pretty soon, so we should get to operations as soon as possible in order to step in for those who need rest.” Then, she cast a quick glance back at him, her brow suddenly furrowed with resolve, “You ready?”
Ah. That’s right. They still had a job to do.
He glanced down at his gloves, flexing his aching fingers in an attempt to warm up his stiff and cramping joints. The pain was still getting worse, and would probably continue to do so, but he knew had to keep going, despite the fact that he was worried. Even if the voice in his head was screaming to just forget all this and go find Kacchan, to pull out his phone and call him until he picked up, to ask where he was and race to his side—even if every bone in his body wanted to be at home, curled into Kacchan’s warmth as they listened to the rain pound away at the windows, and slept the day away with hot cocoa, watching shitty cable and cuddling underneath thick blankets—even if he wanted Kacchan to hold his aching hands, carving gentle paths into his skin with calloused fingertips, and making every muscle in his arms ache with warmth instead of hurt; he couldn’t. Not right now. Not when he still had a job to do.
Not when there were people that still needed saving.
“Right,” Izuku finally breathed, looking back up at her and taking a step forward, flexing his fingers one last time as he settled into the space beside her. “Let’s go.”
So, Ochako gave him a single nod, signaling she was ready, before both of them sprang out from under the overpass and headed back into the storm.
-
The courtyard where their makeshift center of operations was set up wasn’t too far from where Ochako and Izuku had been, which meant by the time they got there, the weather hadn’t changed. It had let up a little in the past hour, but it was still slippery and slick out, staining the flagstone of the city with dreary dim reflections and making the evacuation efforts that much harder.
As the two of them entered the courtyard through a narrow passageway between buildings, it was clear the shift change had already begun, operations in complete disarray as heroes flitted back and forth, chatting with police units and gesturing toward certain areas for possible backup, medics darting out of their tent with bags of first aid supplies, and a line of civilians clinging to the nearest building, nurses and volunteers tending to their needs as they tried their best to keep out of the downpour. It was far more crowded than Izuku had been anticipating, but the center had been purposely set up near the outskirts of the earthquake's epicenter (not too far away so as to not be of use, but not too close in case there were any dangerous aftershocks), and naturally people tended to flock toward where things seemed to be safest. Izuku could even make out a few of his friends in the crowd, but there was so much going on, he didn’t quite know where to look, catching wisps of disjointed conversation as he and Ochako moved further into the courtyard.
“...my sister! Please! You have to find her!”
“We’re doing everything we can, miss. Just stay calm…”
“...worse over there. There was an office building that collapsed—”
“ Medical! We need Medical!”
“...overworked. I’m glad for the shift change, but there’s still so many people out there—”
“Tsu!”
Izuku’s head whipped toward Ochako as her voice rang out, just in time to see her dart off, weaving through the crowd before jumping off the courtyard’s stone step and throwing herself into a set of green-suited arms. She was laughing immediately, happy tears springing into her eyes as she buried her face in Tsuyu’s dark hair and let out a heavy sigh. Izuku could see the way her body relaxed into the other girl’s hold and smiled to himself, affection warming his aching bones. Obviously, he wasn’t the only one who had been worried.
He gave Tsuyu a little nod in place of a greeting, and she smiled back at him in return, before he suddenly felt something sharp tug at the corner of his vision, drawing his eyes away from the two women and across the edge of the courtyard’s stone step toward his far left. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, some inner voice inside him silently asking whether this had something to do with Danger Sense. But this felt different— safe —the pull of his vision coming to him as naturally as if he were breathing.
It was only when his gaze suddenly landed on a familiar set of shoulders, clad in black, with a hint of blonde hair sticking out over the metal collar of his hero costume, that Izuku finally understood why.
Kacchan.
As if his gaze could ever be pulled toward anyone else.
Relief immediately flooded through him, filling him up as his shoulders dropped, an immense weight lifting off his aching bones, but it faded just as quickly when Izuku noticed the weary line of his partner’s shoulders. There was something off about the way he was sitting, something Izuku could only see after years of knowing, of spending almost every waking moment with the other, through good days and bad, through soft reassurances and quiet conversations and nightmares that all ended in tears. It was the way his head was lowered toward the ground, the way he was bent into himself, still and silent as he let the rain beat down on top of him, and although Izuku couldn’t see his expression, his back facing toward him, he could very well imagine the look on his face; expressionless and distant, as though he were a million miles away.
But Izuku could still reach him.
He immediately stepped off in Katsuki’s direction, feet moving across reflective stone as his hands traveled up to the collar of his cape. He dragged it off his shoulders, feeling cool air hit his back as he maneuvered the fabric around in his body, facing the dry side away from himself. The closer he got, the more he could see—the speckles of dirt and smudges of mud, the drooping tails of a black and orange mask, the shine of rainwater slipping off weary shoulders—before he was suddenly face to face with the back of Katsuki’s exposed nape, watching as tiny droplets painted paths down the back of his neck and disappeared underneath his costume.
Oh, if only Izuku could kiss the rain away.
Instead, he carefully leaned forward, gently guiding his cape over Katsuki’s shoulders and letting the fabric settle there, nestled across his collar and draping over his upper arms. Izuku’s fingers lingered there for a moment, playing with the fabric and making sure it was tugged up enough to cover the back of his neck, before finally straightening. He stared at the back of Katsuki’s tufts for a beat, waiting, wanting, longing to look him in the eye. But he could tell Katsuki was still far, far away somewhere, and Izuku was almost sure that if he turned around now—if he looked at Izuku with those quiet red eyes—the hero inside him would surely break, and he would go back to being just Izuku.
As if he’d ever wanted to be anything else.
He could still hear the sirens, the sounds of a mother crying, the instructions from a paramedic. He could still hear the world moving around them, waiting for nothing, still in crisis—with Izuku, who still had a job to do. But Kacchan… Kacchan had done enough today. He’d given enough of himself, done enough saving, had always been and would always be enough . So now it was Izuku’s turn. He could only hope the gesture would be enough to keep Katsuki grounded. Enough to send him home. Enough to remind him that Izuku would always watch out for him, would always reach for him, would always do his best to take care of him too.
Enough for him to know that Izuku would always shield him from the rain.
“Midoriya.”
Izuku looked up, painfully ripping his gaze away from Katsuki to greet Todoroki’s mismatched eyes. He was standing a few feet in front of them both, his expression filled with something gentle and understanding, but urgent all the same, and Izuku immediately knew he was needed. Deku was needed.
So, he forcefully pushed himself away from Kacchan’s side, brow furrowing as he stepped off the concrete platform and began to walk toward Todoroki, the other hero already gesturing toward the police station and starting to relay the latest situation report.
And as they walked, Izuku resisted the urge to look back, hoping the yellow cape he’d left behind was as warm and comforting as the sunshine it now protected.
-
Katsuki didn’t feel it. Not at first. He was still staring at the pavement, still somewhere far away, curled into the back of his head like the small child he used to be. He had turned off all his senses, and climbed way down deep inside himself, right at his core, not wanting to feel the rain in his eyes, or the dirt covering his cheeks, or the bitter cold that bit at his fingers. He just wanted to be someplace quiet and warm and away from the storm. But instead, he was waist-deep in water, feeling like he was about to drown all over again.
But, before he could, he suddenly caught a glimpse of something in the puddle at his feet—a flash of familiar green—and it was suddenly like he was being yanked from a river, a hand tugging him to his feet, and he felt himself snap back to reality, the world crashing in around him as everything flooded his senses.
Rain pounded against the ground, loud and endless, boots scuffing against wet stone and people shouting to one another across the courtyard. He had to blink the moisture from his eyes, the dim light making everything hazy and blurry, and he flexed his fingers in a feeble attempt to bring warmth back to them. Everything was still cold, and wet, and aching, and he felt more worn down than he had in a long, long time—but there was a sudden warmth clinging to his shoulders, shielding him from the rain, and absently cast a glance to his right to see what it was.
Oh.
He recognized it immediately, the worn yellow fabric now covered in smudges of dirt, the same cape his eyes had turned toward a thousand times before. It was like armor, stripped from the shoulders of the mighty and laid on top of him like he was something special, something sacred, and he felt his heart warm inside his chest, the feeling so gentle and familiar that it was suddenly stealing away his breath. He felt incredibly undeserving, and terribly fragile, and overwhelmingly cared for all at once, and before he could stop himself his gaze was whipping upward, eyes finding the one person they couldn’t ever seem to stay away from.
Izuku.
He was a few paces away, his back facing Katsuki, green curls damp with the rain and his shoulders free of the cape that Katsuki now wore. He looked like he always did—his head held high, eyes elsewhere—radiating strength and composure despite the weather, despite how much his hands might be aching or how tired he might be feeling. He looked invincible, like someone who would never be defeated, no matter the odds. He looked like he could carry any weight on his back, like he could hold up the sky and never bend underneath the burden, like he could save everyone and anyone who might need him to reach out his hand.
He looked like a hero.
Katsuki felt something in his heart ache; a feeling he remembered all too well, that rose to the surface every now and then. A feeling of never being able to catch up. A feeling of always waiting for him to look back, even though Katsuki knew that, with one word from his lips, he would. Katsuki knew that he could whisper his name and make the rest of the world fall away, that he could get Izuku to drop everything just to take him home, back to warmth and safety and shelter. Back to their shared bed and quiet apartment and Izuku’s endless heat.
But the thing about being a hero was, they never really had time to think about themselves. This was who they were, or who they had decided to be. This was the job. And Katsuki refused to be selfish on a day like today. Not when there were people who still needed saving. People who deserved to be saved by a hero like Izuku.
He wanted to help, he wanted to reach for him, to follow his lead—but the truth was, Katsuki was falling apart. He was sure if he’d tried to stand up right now, he might not even be able to maintain his footing, nevertheless keep up. All his lingering strength had been spent, and the only thing left for him to feel was wet, cold, and tired.
But he still got Izuku’s message, even without having to exchange words. Even without seeing his eyes, or reading his expression, the cape now draped around him spoke loud enough.
I’ll be home soon, Kacchan. You can rest now.
And as those words rang in Katsuki’s ears, he could only manage to dig his cold fingers into the fabric of Izuku’s cape, eyes lingering on green curls as he tried his best to pull it tighter.
-
It was hours before the rain finally let up, and even longer until Izuku finally got back home, soaked head to toe and chilled to the bone, dirt clinging to every inch of him. His once green costume was now muddied and stained, and his shiny white gloves were darkened with grime. He could feel it coating his hair, in his eyes, and under his clothes, and at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and curl up in bed, right next to Kacchan.
It didn’t take long after Izuku had seen him in the courtyard for Katsuki to finally end his shift, shooting Izuku a brief message that said headed home , before adding on a quick be safe at the end. Izuku had responded with get some rest kacchan, and hoped his boyfriend would at least dry his hair from the shower before passing out, not wanting him to catch a cold, but based on how exhausted he’d been earlier, Izuku honestly had no idea what to expect when he finally stepped back into their shared apartment.
He toed opened the door, trying to be as quiet as possible as he kicked off his muddied shoes in the genkan, and stripped off his knee guards and dirt-stained socks so as to leave as little grime as possible on the floors (knowing he’d get an earful from Kacchan in the morning if he got mud on the hardwood). Then, he stepped up onto the main floor and slowly padded his way across the entry, limbs heavy with exhaustion as he headed toward their bathroom to take a quick shower. He hadn’t been in the field as long as Kacchan had, but the mud had only gotten worse as the rain had carried on, and would probably take days to dry out completely. Izuku was sure tomorrow he’d be just as muddy after work, and come home just as exhausted as he was right now, but the heroes had made good on their initial relief efforts, and had almost cleared out all of downtown from its broken mess of rubble.
Izuku let out a tiny, exhausted sigh, flexing his throbbing right hand slightly as he finally made his way past the living room, grimacing at how much pain he was probably going to be in tomorrow from the overuse of his sore joints, when suddenly a flash of yellow caught the corner of his vision, and he turned his head to look toward it.
There, laying on their couch, was Katsuki, his left foot falling off the side of the cushions, with one arm raised above his head, and Izuku’s cape carefully tucked underneath the other, pressed up against his torso and held with an indescribable gentleness that Izuku had never seen before. It had clearly been washed since Izuku had handed it over, now as clean and dry as the hero who slept underneath, which had Izuku practically melting on the spot—something as simple as Kacchan washing his cape causing every inch of him to heat up with a warmth that spread from the center of his chest and seeped deep into his chilled bones. Kacchan’s eyes were closed, chin falling to one side as he breathed evenly, and Izuku had to resist the urge to walk over and kiss him, knowing he was still muddy and dripping and soaked with rainwater. So, he just stared at him for a few moments instead, trying to memorize every tiny detail, before quietly turning and heading toward the shower.
Once he was in the bathroom, he quickly stripped off his hero costume before cranking up the hot water and scrubbing himself down, trying to get all the grime off. It was a bit difficult in his condition, his right hand struggling to massage the shampoo into his hair, his fingers aching with protest as he closed his eyes and dug them into his curls. The water burned against his cool skin, and his body was sore from running around all day, his mind exhausted from being honed into his senses for so long. And when he finally stepped out of the shower and began drying himself off, he suddenly felt like his limbs had turned to gelatin. Everything felt weak and wobbly, and he haphazardly scrubbed a towel against his curls before he finally made his way out of the bathroom and trudged back toward the living room.
Kacchan was just as he left him, and this time, as Izuku drew closer to him, he could see how tired he looked, dark circles punctuating the space underneath his eyes, with his head slumped heavily against the armrest of their couch. Izuku’s cape was still draped over his body, still keeping him warm even after all this time, and Izuku found himself leaning down to fix it before he could resist, tugging at the corners gently to make sure it covered all the exposed parts of Katsuki’s skin. After being out in the rain for so long, the last thing Izuku wanted was for him to catch a chill…
“‘Zuku…?”
Izuku’s head immediately snapped up, meeting Kacchan’s piercing red eyes, now cracked open just the tiniest bit, slightly unfocused as they traveled up to his face and landed on the damp curls still clinging to Izuku’s forehead.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Izuku whispered, moving slightly closer before carefully sitting down next to the blonde, perching on the edge of one of the cushions, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Kastuki just blinked at him, still a little absent, before murmuring in a hoarse voice, “You take a shower? Your hair is still wet.”
Izuku felt a small smile tug at his lips, nodding slowly as he whispered, “I know,” reaching up to swipe the back of his right hand over his damp bangs, moisture catching on the rivets in between his knuckles, before finally flexing his fingers gently and grimacing, “I tried my best, but my hand—” Izuku cut himself off as Katsuki suddenly pushed himself up, leaning around Izuku’s shoulder to catch his hand just as Izuku protested, “—Kacchan, you don’t have to do that—” but the blonde was already drawing his fingers close, entwining them with his own as he cradled the scarred knuckles in between them.
“Want to,” Katsuki murmured softly, his hand already warming up underneath Izuku’s touch, fingers moving dexterously over his joints as he carefully began to trace along the edges of his bones, before adding in barely a whisper, “To pay you back.”
Izuku’s eyes flickered up to Kacchan’s face, but he wasn’t looking back at him, his tired eyes solely focused on the task at hand, actively avoiding his gaze even as Izuku whispered, “For what?”
There was a long silence, in which Katsuki continued to massage careful circles into Izuku’s knuckles, calloused hands warm and feather-light against his, causing the cold air that permeated the rest of Izuku’s body to run a stiff chill down his spine. He shivered, letting out a quiet breath as it hitched inside his chest, before he suddenly felt something falling around his shoulders. He turned just in time to see Katsuki adjusting the cape so it now covered Izuku’s back, giving up his makeshift blanket to provide Izuku with warmth, tugging it neatly across his broad shoulders.
Ah. For that.
“Kacchan…” Izuku whispered, his eyes widening slightly, a flush crawling up the back of his neck at the gesture, but Katsuki was already moving his hand back to Izuku’s, gently guiding it up his wrist and pressing it into his pulse point. Another shiver ran down Izuku’s spine, but this time it had nothing to do with the cold air, only with Kacchan’s touch against his heartbeat; his fingers warm and sensitive against his aching joints, like he was pressing a fresh bruise.
Then, in a single breath, Katsuki tugged Izuku forward, pressed an oh-so gentle kiss against his lips, and breathed a quiet, “Thank you,” before finally pulling away.
It was the same little ritual Izuku had given Katsuki every time he warmed up his hands, performed in the exact same way, and having the gesture repeated back to him had Izuku’s head suddenly swimming with heat, his face beginning to burn as warmth blossomed from somewhere deep inside his chest. His stomach was doing flips, all coherent thought suddenly slipping away as he absently pressed his free hand into the crest of his lips, his vision spinning slightly as he tried to process exactly what had just happened, and Katsuki’s sweet taste still lingering on his lips.
It took him another few seconds to steady himself, calming his racing heart with a breath before finally drawing his gaze back up to look at Katsuki, feeling himself threaten to blush all over again as he studied the gentle look on the blonde’s face; a small crease of concentration in his brow as he focused solely on Izuku’s hands, still painting heat across the crevasses of his skin, expression soft and relaxed.
Beautiful.
“I-It’s nothing,” Izuku finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper as he shook his head, subconsciously catching the edge of his cape as it started to slip off his shoulder and pulling it back into place as naturally as if he were breathing, before adding, “You do the same thing for me.”
He was smiling to himself now, so lost in thought that it took him a moment to realize that Katsuki’s hands had stopped moving against his, and he quickly blinked, glancing down at where his fingers were still being gently cradled before tracing his way back up to Katsuki’s face. Their eyes immediately locked on each other, and Katsuki was suddenly taking in every inch of Izuku’s irises, as if he was peering straight into his soul, effectively stealing Izuku’s breath away before he could even bother to gasp for air.
Then, so slowly it almost hurt, Katsuki forcefully tore his eyes away from Izuku, ducking his gaze underneath his bangs, like he was trying to hide, and Izuku knew he was retreating back into himself, guarding his expression as he drifted back into the same silent distance he’d had in the courtyard. He was getting lost in his head all over again, and once again Izuku noticed just how tired he was. He’d gone through so much today, he’d worked so hard—and now there was something eating at him, something that refused to let him rest, that had him out here on the couch waiting for Izuku to come home. Something he was trying really hard to say.
So, Izuku carefully maneuvered his hands until he had intertwined their fingers together, squeezing gently to let Kacchan know that he was listening, before carefully leaning forward to knock his skull against Katsuki’s golden tufts, invading all his space in one fell swoop.
Talk to me, he was trying to say, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he pushed his curls gently into Katsuki’s temple, I’m listening.
He heard a sharp intake of breath and Katsuki shifted, retreating just far enough to meet Izuku’s gaze once more. His expression was still guarded, his posture tensing slightly as he swallowed down whatever he was about to say. And then, in the quiet space between one heartbeat and the next, he heard Katsuki breathe, “I missed you.”
Izuku felt every part of himself soften, before finding the same words on his lips, repeating them back to the blonde with ease, “I missed you too…”
But Katsuki only shook his head a little, golden tufts swaying, before he whispered, “No, I mean… I missed you.”
Izuku stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as he tried his best to understand, before slowly watching Katsuki’s composure crumble before his eyes, his expression falling as words suddenly started to spill from his lips, like a rain that wouldn’t let up.
“You were right there, ” Katsuki said, his voice breaking a little as he turned his eyes toward the floor in front of them, “Right behind me, and I should’ve noticed you. I should’ve said something. I should’ve gone after you—” he took another sharp breath, as if his words had found a notch between his ribcage were digging into his side the more he spoke, “—but that whole time, I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to get out of the fucking rain, and how I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. I was so tired, but I should’ve kept going—pushed through it. But even while you were walking away, I just couldn’t, because I knew… I didn’t… Because…”
“Because that’s the job,” Izuku offered softly, understanding what Katsuki was trying to convey.
“Yeah,” he whispered, turning to look at Izuku, “But, what you did for me? That wasn’t nothing, Izuku. It’s never nothing. And I…” he trailed off, eyes still searching Izuku’s face, but it didn’t have to be said, a truth grown into Izuku’s bones ever since their shared childhood.
I never want to be without you.
“I know,” Izuku whispered quietly, carefully reaching up a hand to brush at Katsuki’s bangs, moving around some strands that had fallen into his face, “But, you also have to know—you did enough today, Kacchan . More than enough. You shouldn't strain yourself like that.” His hand traveled down to Katsuki’s face, thumbing carefully at the bruises under his eyes before whispering, “You look exhausted… You have no idea how much I wanted to stay with you.”
Katsuki’s gaze flickered back up to his, red eyes searching, before finally leaning in and whispering against his lips, “I think I might have some idea.”
Then, he kissed him again, slow this time, like he was savoring it, and Izuku felt his hands moving around the back of Katsuki’s neck before he could stop himself, hands finding the spaces in between his tufts and trying to pull him closer. His cape fell from his shoulders with the movement, but just as quickly, Katsuki was grabbing at the folds and tugging it back, using the fabric to pull Izuku even closer to him, until there was barely any space between them at all. Earlier, there had been so much distance between them, so much they couldn’t say, but for right now, everything else—every terrible drop of rain and tragic cry for help, every ache in their bones and heavy weight in their hearts—it all just fell away, leaving just the two of them in its wake.
It was always like this with the two of them, somehow always finding their way back to each other, despite everything that went on around them; some indescribable force constantly pulling them back into each other’s gravity. Sometimes it felt impossible, unbearable, to be anywhere else. Especially on days like today, when the world felt like it was falling apart and everything was gray and miserable. But sometimes, it made moments like this that much sweeter, each breath they shared together as bright and warm as the sun.
After a few lingering moments, Izuku finally pulled back, hands running down to meet Kacchan’s chest, pressing against the space where his heart still beat. He let out a little sigh as he felt the vibrations, closing his eyes as Kacchan fit a kiss into his temple, and then his cheek, and then his lips again. Even so, Izuku could feel his strength waning in his hold, exhaustion lacing every part of his body as his movements became more sluggish, and as Izuku opened his eyes once more, he could see the dark circles under Katsuki’s eyes now more than ever, the rain leaving bruises on him like water stains.
“You should get some rest, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered softly, licking whatever sweetness Katsuki had left behind from his lips, “It’s been a long day.”
Katsuki let out a low hum, his eyes half-lidded, but his body was already curling forward with the release of tension, his head drooping lower as he closed his eyes, and Izuku immediately shifted closer to him, Katsuki’s blonde tufts coming to rest against the cavity of his chest. It was so familiar—so warm and comforting—that for a second Izuku just let himself sit there, letting Katsuki sink into him like he was the safest place in the world as his breathing fell into a steady rhythm.
After a few minutes, Izuku slowly adjusted their position until they were both resting against the cushions, limbs intertwined, with Katsuki’s head still pressed against his chest as he ran his fingers through the blonde’s hair, gently brushing at his scalp. In a few minutes, they would definitely have to get up and go to bed, but for now Izuku just wanted to stay where they were, curled into each other’s warmth, knowing that—as long as they had each other—they could weather any storm.
Izuku gently lowered his chin, pressing a light kiss into Katsuki’s hair, before carefully grabbing onto the corner of his yellow cape. Then, in one swift move, he let it gently fall around them both, making sure they were wrapped in nothing but sunshine.