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It came back like an explosion, like a sudden start. Katsuki gasped, jolting upwards. He felt like his body was the center of a supernova, a destructive force of nature that had taken everything from him—for him.
Everything had been destroyed in his wake and recreated in an instant. Like a second chance, like a debt he’d never be worthy enough to repay.
He breathed in, breathed out; a sensation that nearly felt new and unusual, his body creaking uncomfortably under disuse.
How much time had passed?
What had happened? What had he missed? He was alone, where was everyone? Was anyone dead? Injured?
Katsuki’s heart stopped. Started again.
Where was Izuku?
Before Katsuki could even register the pain, he was standing, running, chasing the fleeting feeling of Izuku.
Fuck, Katsuki was alive. He wasn’t sure how the fuck how but he was.
He was, so Izuku had to be too, right? He had to be.
Ragged, wet breaths tore from his chest as he reached the edge of U.A, floating high and unreachable in the sky. An explosion might have went off in the process, Katsuki wasn’t sure, hadn’t been aware if he was the cause or not.
Where was Izuku?
His eyes squinted, scanned the ground far down below him, and there he was. Those stupidly big, green eyes with tears flowing with raw energy.
Katsuki knew it sounds fucking cheesy as shit but he swore to god time fucking stopped.
He would be ashamed to ever admit it afterwards but he barely even registered All Might in danger in the background. All he saw was Izuku, filling his every sense, reaching a dark part of his heart that not even Edgeshot could complete.
Just like everything else, it happened all at once. Katsuki was plummeting off the edge, sparks shooting from his palms in desperation to close up that stupid fucking gulf spanning between them.
Katsuki full-body crashed into Izuku when he met him, both boys falling into a heap on the ground. Izuku cried out, but not in pain. Katsuki didn’t think he ever sounded so happy. Katsuki buried his face in Izuku’s neck, breathing him in and no doubt smearing blood.
“Kacchan!”
“Izuku,” the word spilled from his lips, hoarse and cracked; the first word he’d spoken since death, since sacrifice.
Izuku. Izuku, Izuku, Izuku.
A realization crashed upon him with a suddenness that shocked him to his very core, moreso than even literal death.
He pulled back just enough to look at Izuku, who was smiling like a fucking idiot with tears and snot all over his face.
Katsuki’s hands clumsily found Izuku’s face, trembling as a hoarse laugh left his throat.
It’d always been Izuku, to some extent, huh?
Katsuki had literally given his life for this fucker—because of him, even. And he’d do it again, right now if he needed.
And as he looked at Izuku’s wide, gorgeous, stupid fucking eyes, he saw that same emotion reflected back up at him.
Katsuki inhaled.
“Izuku,” he whispered again, like a mantra, like it might save him. Save them both.
“Kacchan,” Izuku repeated, just as soft and desperate.
It wasn’t even a question, not a doubt in Katsuki’s mind as he gripped Izuku’s cheeks and surged downwards.
The kiss was far from perfect. A messy slide of inexperienced lips against each other, hesitant and cautious with their years of inner turmoil and torture.
Katsuki smeared blood across Izuku’s face as he desperately held onto this lip to lip connection.
It was a little gross, if Katsuki was totally honest with himself, but he could not be fucking happier. He’d kiss Izuku over and over again, even if it meant it’d be sloppy with spit and tears and blood and anguish.
Katsuki broke first and Izuku cried, a high pitched and happy noise.
“Kacchan.”
“Izuku.”
The two seemed wholly unable to utter anything aside from the other, from the desperation and love they felt just below the surface.
Izuku worked his fingers into Katsuki’s hair and pulled him in again. Katsuki made a contented noise in the back of his throat and let him.
He could taste the copper tang of his own blood on Izuku’s lips; he could taste the tears, feeling across freckles with his thumbs.
It wasn’t perfect, and he was sure it never really would be. They weren’t, so there was nothing that suited them just as well.
They broke apart, Katsuki breathing in ragged, wheezing breaths. Izuku cupped his face, smearing blood across his left thumb.
“You’re alive.”
Katsuki breathed. In and out. Izuku watched him, as if transfixed on the very fact that Katsuki was here. Real and breathing—he wasn’t just imagining it.
“‘Course I am. I told you, you’re not fighting this alone, idiot.”
Izuku laughed, bright and cleansing the darkest reaches of Katsuki’s soul.
Even in the worst possible situation he could think of, Katsuki had never felt so at peace, at home in Izuku’s rough hands.
“Ready to kick some ass?”
Katsuki grinned, feral and triumphant as if he’d already won. He’d kissed Izuku, after all, nothing could take him down now.
“You fuckin’ bet.”