Work Text:
Izuku heaved, crouched over the toilet. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so sick. He rested his cheek against the cool, porcelain surface of the toilet bowl, gagging at the thought of more vomit (or whatever the hell it was that was flowing up and through his mouth).
No more than a moment passed before he was lurching, vomiting again into the gross, murky water the toilet was turning. This time, flower petals followed suit. The petals felt smooth in his throat–an alarming change in texture to the bile he had previously felt. He gagged and reached into his mouth, pulling out the petals of what appeared to be a red carnation.
Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before Izuku plucked a fully bloomed carnation from his throat. If it weren’t for the horror of the situation, Izuku might have been intrigued, maybe even amused.
Instead, Izuku leaned forward again, throwing up a mix of petals and bile that made his sweat go cold, his head spin, his legs tucked beneath him quiver.
A week or so prior, Izuku had been in one of Aizawa Sensei’s lectures. The tired man had explained something called hanahaki. It was a disease where flowers and petals would grow inside of the victim, until the victim either confessed their love to whoever it was they loved or it killed them in the process. The disease only manifested in those with unrequited love and was apparently incredibly rare, so Izuku hadn’t worried about it in the moment.
How unlucky would Izuku be if he had been hit with a disease that only affected one in a million?
He pulled another petal from his throat. This time it was a white lily.
Of course Izuku was unlucky enough to get hanahaki. It only made sense, when he thought about it. He was unlucky enough to be born quirkless, to fall in love with the boy that would become his bully. Why not add another into the midst?
Izuku sighed and reluctantly pushed himself away from the comforting, cool of the toilet. He didn’t think he had anymore to throw up.
He hoped he didn’t, at least.
He could probably hide this, right? Like, okay. Yeah, it would kill him if he didn’t confess to Kacchan but that didn’t mean he had to confess straight away, right? He could push it off a little while, right?
Maybe it was just pushing off the inevitable, but Izuku wanted to pretend he could be friends with Kacchan a little longer before it all went down in flames.
-
Katsuki couldn’t believe the shitnerd was avoiding him. Avoiding him. What the hell?
Katsuki had fucking apologized hadn’t he? And, sure, Katsuki never expected Izuku to forgive him or anything, but he had.
So why the hell would he suddenly turn around and start pretending like he never even fucking existed? Did he change his mind?
Did he somehow figure out Katsuki’s innermost feelings before even he could?
No way, not possible. The nerd was smart but not that smart, and Katsuki prided himself on keeping his feelings locked away safely. No one but him should ever be able to figure out how he truly felt.
Even so… Izuku always had a habit of figuring Katsuki out before anyone else could even bother.
Shit. Katsuki needed to talk to him. Avoiding each other like this would accomplish fuck all. Katsuki was a man of action, not a man of sit-and-twiddle-my-thumbs-until-one-of-us-grows-a-fucking-pair.
He had a plan.
-
Izuku paled when he saw the note from none other than his childhood friend turned crush turned enemy turned ??? sitting on his desk, after class.
Izuku, meet me outside after class.
Ditch me and I’ll kick your ass.
It wasn’t signed–didn’t have to be, Izuku knew.
The universe had to have a personal vendetta against him or something. Hardly a week of pitiful avoidance and isolation had passed and Kacchan already knew. He had to. He knew Izuku was pathetically in love with him and was asking him outside so he could let him down brutally.
Hell, maybe he would even take back the beautiful words of his apology and start bullying Izuku again. And what was Izuku supposed to do then? He’d gotten so used to soft-cchan. He didn’t think he could go back to Kacchan full blown hating him.
It was that or death, he guessed.
Izuku dragged his feet as he walked outside, settling under a tree as he waited for Kacchan to show. If the situation had been different, he might’ve marveled at how romantic it was to sit and watch the cherry blossom petals fall.
“Oi, Izuku.” Came Kacchan’s softer than usual voice, instead.
It was still startling to hear. Izuku had grown more than used to Kacchan’s gruff, brash exterior, so watching his face soften into an almost-smile felt almost unnerving. Even more so now that he knew what was coming.
Izuku swallowed. “Kacchan.”
Kacchan crouched in front of him, voice softening impossibly further as he plucked a petal (not of Izuku’s own creation, luckily) from his hair. “The fuck ‘s up wth you?”
Izuku felt his cheeks go pink at both the proximity and the affection in Kacchan’s gesture.
“Ah, um. Nothing, Kacchan, just stressed about..uh, exams?” Izuku offered weakly, forcing a small smile. Kacchan didn’t seem convinced, narrowing his eyes slightly and huffing an unamused snort.
“We just took our exams, dipshit.”
“Oh,” Izuku breathed. He bit his lip and turned his gaze downward, running his fingertips over the blades of grass beside him.
“Izuku, seriously.” Kacchan started before sighing and hooking his thumb under Izuku’s chin, making him meet those all too captivating red eyes. “Talk to me.”
If Izuku’s face was red before, now it was on fire. Was now his chance? Confess to Kacchan and pray to every deity out there that Kacchan would at least allow them to stay friends, if not more?
Izuku opened his mouth and felt a rush of bile enter his throat.
In a moment’s notice, Izuku was out of Kacchan’s hold and on his hands and knees next to the tree, a mix of assorted flowers, petals and vomit leaving his body.
“Hanahaki.” Katsuki muttered under his breath, hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. In an instant, Katsuki was at Izuku’s side, looking almost scared as he rubbed Izuku’s back soothingly.
“You idiot. Who is it? Who is the useless fucker that rejected you, huh? I’ll kill him. I’ll-”
Izuku half gagged, half sobbed as the last petal fell from his lips. He snapped his eyes to Kacchan’s, his own green eyes wide.
“It’s you!” Izuku blurted and, shit, no backing down now. Izuku swallowed down his difficult emotions and sat back on his haunches, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He couldn’t directly meet Kacchan’s eyes anymore, but he continued. “It’s you, Kacchan. It’s always been you.”
Katsuki was quiet for much longer than what Izuku would’ve expected, even in a worse case scenario. He saw his own tears before he felt them, his lips wobbling as his vision blurred.
“You fuckin’ idiot.” The words barely left Katsuki’s mouth before he rushed forward, kissing Izuku with much more force than what was necessary.
Izuku’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to push Kacchan away.
What was he doing?
Kacchan pressed his lips more firmly, gripped Izuku’s shoulders tightly so he couldn’t pull away, not without returning the kiss first.
And Izuku did. He relaxed into the kiss that was a little too rough, a little too hard (but that was so irrevocably Kacchan so Izuku didn’t mind, not really). Eventually, Kacchan pulled away and set his forehead against Izuku’s, his own face beginning to turn the slightest bit red in turn.
“Idiot,” Katsuki repeated, but softly. “I like you too.”
Izuku couldn’t suppress his gasp. “Kacchan…likes me?” Kacchan smirked in response, looking almost amused.
“Yeah, dumbass. I like you. Fuckin’ obviously, have for ages by now. Leave it to your dumb ass to develop Hanahaki over someone who already liked you.”
“You…wha..?”
Kacchan huffed. “Oh my god, do I gotta spell it out for you?” The blonde pulled away enough to let Izuku see the sincerity in his eyes. “Midoriya Izuku, I like you so much, and have for well over a few years.”
Izuku couldn’t help the grin that broke out across his face. Kacchan liked him, like actually liked him. There was a part of him, in the back of his mind, that could feel the hold of the disease dissipating.
“Kacchan likes me.” Izuku repeated, for himself. Katsuki rolled his eyes but he was beginning to smile.
“Duh.”
“Can Kacchan kiss me again?”
“Ew, gross, no.”
Izuku pouted, feeling his heart sink. If Kacchan liked him…why would he not kiss him again?
Katsuki rolled his eyes again and flicked Izuku’s forehead, to which Izuku whined and rubbed the sore spot with his palm.
“Idiot, ‘course I wanna kiss you again. But you fuckin’ threw up, like hell am I tasting your goddamned throw up again like that.”
“Oh,” Izuku said, and then broke into laughter.
“Dumbass.” Katsuki said but in a way that sounded an awful lot like I love you.
“So, if I wash up you’ll kiss me again?” Izuku asked, a lilt of teasing to his voice.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess.” Kacchan’s face was beginning to grow red at the admission and Izuku was soaking in every second of it. He was so grateful, not even in his wildest dreams did Izuku hope that Kacchan would actually return his feelings.
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”