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Izuku had never before wondered why he had such an intense fascination with his childhood friend, turned enemy, turned rival, turned… something a little more. He never wondered why he cared so deeply about Kacchan until the lines started to blur. Until something a little more started turning into something maybe kind of real.
The potency of the infatuation he possessed for his former enemy had always been fierce, even in childhood. There was never any doubt that Izuku cared for Kacchan. Izuku always made it obvious. Everything that he said and did was a reflection of his devotion.
Sometimes he wished he wasn’t so obvious with his admiration. He wished he wasn’t so easily deciphered. He’d wish he was more mysterious and just a little more angry. He never wanted to be seen as someone easily deceived. Easily manipulated. He knew his fidelity was seen as a weakness, but for some reason, it wasn’t ever something he urged to put an end to. Izuku doesn’t know why. He had never thought about it. It all seemed natural to him. Like the way a flower grows leaning toward the sun. He’d always grown leaning toward Katsuki. Those were just the cards he was dealt.
Somehow, somewhere along the lines, things started to get more complicated. Izuku started thinking. Wondering. He would wonder why and he would wonder how and he would spiral until he couldn't wonder at all. Then, when everything was said and done, he’d wonder what the last straw had been.
Right now, he was wondering why he couldn't stop himself from wondering about the way the blonde sitting in front of him treated people. Izuku knew that the… relationship… he had with Kacchan was complicated. He knew that they had layers and stuff, you know, like onions and blah blah blah. Whatever stupid analogy they use to describe things that you can't perceive fully on a surface level. He just couldn't help but think that the bond he shared with Kacchan was, quite frankly, unconventional.
Izuku had never met anyone who really thought that the way he and Kacchan were with each other was normal or even healthy. He was always told growing up that he needed to just give up on the violent, egotistical blonde. That Kacchan would never be Kacchan. That Izuku was just wasting his energy on someone who would never be able to show him what a true friend looks like.
Even in recent years, people have tried to convince Izuku that his instincts aren't quality. He wouldn't have enough hands to count on his fingers the amount of times he’s been told to distance himself from Kacchan. Bakugou is dangerous, and trouble follows him everywhere he goes. As if Izuku had never been in trouble before. As if anything any villain did to Katsuki had been his fault.
Of course, the way people would use their misunderstanding of Kacchan as a gateway to try and govern Izuku had been frustrating. He always felt as though people thought he had no mind of his own. As if he were to follow blindly if Katsuki just so happened to go off the rails. Only because the blonde was his friend. Izuku didn't understand why so many of his friends seemed to underestimate him over and over again. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that people assumed he followed Kacchan around like a domesticated animal doing its owner's bidding.
He didn't know why it bothered him so much. It's his life, not anyone else's. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that everyone automatically concluded that his friendship– no, relationship– no, his situation with Kacchan was one-sided. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he wasn't sure if the situation was one-sided or not.
Kacchan had never given him the impression that he truly wanted Izuku keeping him company. Little gestures and secret, sensitive looks were all Izuku really got. And honestly, it had always been enough for him. Until now. Why couldn't he stop himself from wanting more? When had the longing for change started? Why can't he ever be satisfied?
Izuku is disappointed in himself and he feels ashamed. As he sits staring at the back of his friend’s– no, best friend's head, he now begins to wonder if maybe the way he feels about Kacchan is different. Perhaps the way he feels about Kacchan is more complex than he originally understood it to be.
Before he can allow his mind to truly derail itself, he feels something knock against his foot. This shakes him out of his thoughts and prompts him to look down at the disturbance. It’s a foot. not his foot, another foot. … yeah, it’s Kacchan’s foot, okay?
Izuku looks up, officially awakening from his self-induced trance. His eyes meet blonde tufts of hair and he selfishly begins to wonder what it would feel like if he reached out and just touched. He doesn’t need to wonder. He already knows, but he indulges himself anyway.
The intrusion pushes further against his limb and his eyes travel down toward the ground again. This is not an accident, he’s decided. This is Kacchan reaching out to him, pulling him closer, asking him to hold on tight. Izuku is deluding himself. Oh well, a boy can dream.
He continues to stare at his foot, the one currently connecting with Katsuki’s under the desk. Okay, it’s clearly no mistake, but Izuku is being dramatic. Kacchan wishes to touch him, not hold him. The blonde wishes to reach out, but not to pull or to ask.
Izuku nudges his foot back against Kacchan’s. He waits for a response. The notes on his desk have been long since forgotten, and Izuku might hope that Mr. Aizawa doesn’t notice, but he hasn’t thought about it. He hasn’t thought about much of anything, other than Katsuki, for a while.
The blonde nudges him back and then his stomach flips. And then he dies.
He can tell Kacchan noticed. He always does. Izuku can just feel that smug look on his best friend's face. He decides he won’t talk to him for the rest of the school day. He would like to think of it as revenge. In reality, he’s a bit of a wuss, and he’s not exactly in the mood to be teased. In his defense, he’s never in the mood for that. Today is no exception.
He looks down just in time for Kacchan to click his foot against Izuku’s own one more time. His heart drops to his ass and his face heats up. This is embarrassing.
He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him lately. All these extra thoughts are confusing him. Izuku has been off-kilter recently. He’s not dumb, he's afraid. He’s worried he knows exactly what’s causing him to spiral. He’s afraid he knows exactly who.
Izuku is so caught up in the small interaction he just had with Kacchan, he doesn’t notice Aizawa ending the lesson. He doesn’t notice the bell ring. And he doesn’t notice the kid in front of him turn around.
He was staring at the back of Kacchan’s head, as usual. He is now staring at the front of Kacchan’s stupid gorgeous face. This is not usual.
The blonde speaks before Izuku has the chance to even process the fact that he should probably look away. “What the fuck.”
Izuku scrambles. “Sorry Kacchan!” He is waving his hands around between their faces like an idiot. God, is he looking forward to the pathetic face-planting he’s going to do into his bed when school finally gets out. This is awful.
Katsuki looks at him like he is an astronomical inconvenience, and then he speaks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Izuku responds, “You had something in your hair.”
Honestly, he’s proud of himself. He said that rather confidently. He’s usually a bad liar.
“What- no.” Kacchan begins, he sounds sure of himself like there could never possibly be anything unwanted in his hair because he is perfect. Then, he falters. Katsuki is only human after all, and humans are capable of having something in their hair. “Wait- where?” He turns around, attempting to show Izuku the back of his head. Does he want Izuku to look? Oh, god.
Izuku sits there for a while. Kacchan turns back around, obviously annoyed.
“Are you going to tell me where it is, idiot? Come on.” Katsuki turns back around with an eye roll.
Izuku pretends to look through his hair, which honestly, is a lot more awkward than he had thought it would be. He then pretends to find something and flicks the pretend speck of whatever off of his finger.
Katsuki turns around sporting a scowl.
“Sorry,” Izuku squeaks. He tells himself he needs to stop apologizing to the blonde every time he makes that face. After glancing at Kacchan once more, he gulps and decides it’s a habit he’ll take to the grave. Later rather than sooner.
“Tch, whatever nerd.” The blonde gets up and walks away, leaving Izuku grimacing.
He concludes that Kacchan is much less scary in private, and maybe that’s why he had that odd reaction to the foot nudging. It had felt oddly intimate. Something that only they would know. Something only Kacchan and Izuku could feel. Maybe that’s why Izuku's face warmed and his knees buckled at the thought of it. Maybe that’s why his heart squeezed at the thought of Kacchan thinking of it. Izuku doesn’t know.
He tells himself he doesn’t know, but he does.
———
Fourth period ends and Izuku is starving. He scurries to lunch and quickly finds his regular table. Sitting down next to Shoto, he sighs. Todoroki looks over at him and they exchange knowing glances. They’re both tired. And hungry. There will be no meaningful lunch discussions today. God, is Izuku grateful for that.
They sit together in silence, eating and sighing strangely dramatically. Ochako walks in, chatting with Asui, and sits down across from him and Shoto. She and Tsu exchange an odd look before she speaks, “Hey guys…” Her face is twisted into an odd expression.
Izuku sighs, “Hey.”
Todoroki sighs, “Hey.”
Tsu turns toward Ochako again, and they trade another peculiar glance.
Tsu speaks this time, “What’s up, ribbit…”
Izuku and Todoroki expel another dramatic sigh in tandem.
The two boys turn toward each other at that. They swap their second knowing look of the day. Yeah this is weird, isn’t it?
Izuku's friends are still looking at him with odd expressions when he turns back around. “Sorry guys! I think we’re both just hungry…” Shoto nods in agreement with Izuku’s statement.
Ochako lets go of a breath it seems like she didn’t even know she was holding.
“Phew! For a second there I thought you two had gone crazy!” Ochako says, obviously some sort of relieved. Asui ribbits her agreement.
Ochako begins to ramble on about whatever he was supposed to have learned in class this morning. Izuku mentally punishes himself for not having paid attention. He knows school is important. He can’t keep staring off into space in the middle of class and he especially cannot continue staring at the back of Kacchan’s head.
He knows one day Aizawa will notice and scold him, but he’s prepared. He scolds himself every day for it. Somehow, the berating always seems to fail and he finds himself getting lost in spiky, blonde locks. He’s so pathetic.
His thoughts continue brewing while Ochako practically talks to herself in front of him. He feels bad for not listening. Lately, he hasn’t been listening to much of anything. Anything other than the sound of his best friend's voice. He finds himself zoning in on small things. The way Kacchan’s hair sounds when Izuku brushes his fingers through it. The small grunts and groans the blonde emits, signaling he’s annoyed with Izuku’s muttering. The soft sound of Katsuki’s breathing and the way his heartbeat slows when Izuku lays his head on a firm chest.
Izuku listens so intently when it comes to his best friend that when it’s time to listen to anything else, he doesn’t have the energy. He expends every ounce of concentration on Kacchan. He bleeds himself dry.
Izuku thinks it’s safe to assume Kacchan does not feel the same way. He’s not going to act like he hasn’t noticed the way Kacchan has been treating him. He's not going to pretend he doesn’t see the clear shift in behavior. All he knows is that the blonde doesn’t yearn the same way he does. Katsuki doesn’t listen to the sound of Izuku’s breath. He doesn’t brush his fingers across Izuku’s skin in the silence just for a chance to hear the soft rustle of his fingertips ghosting along standing hair. They just don’t think the same.
He glances across the cafeteria to find the object of all his desires chatting idly with friends. Izuku thinks about how different things would be if they were still first years. He thinks about how far Katsuki has come in just a short amount of time. Quite frankly, it’s amazing. Kacchan has always been amazing, but lately, Izuku knows something has changed. Izuku knows this change is for the better.
He realizes now that he’s been staring for way too long. As he begins to turn back toward his friends, he catches someone’s eye. Kacchan stares back at him and for some insane reason, Izuku doesn’t look away. They just stare at each other. It’s weird. Izuku thinks they both know. He doesn’t care.
The blonde looks away first, being tapped on the shoulder by Ashido. Izuku is disappointed, but he’s not surprised. After all, they were staring at each other like idiots for at least a minute. As the thought circles around in his head, he begins to hope no one noticed.
He’s still staring at Kacchan, who was swept into conversation by Mina. Now that Izuku thinks about it, the conversation looks pretty serious. They’re talking in hushed tones and looking around all suspiciously. It makes Izuku wonder. What could Kacchan be talking about with Ashido that the blonde hasn’t talked about with him?
He’s not going to lie, he gets kind of jealous. It’s not like Kacchan belongs to him. He’s his own person. They aren’t even dating. Izuku doesn’t think Kacchan would ever date someone like him. He’s too bubbly, too annoying. Katsuki says it himself. The blonde now swears he means it in an endearing way… whatever that means. But Izuku knows there’s no way to sugarcoat it. It’s true. There’s no other way to describe his constant muttering other than with the word annoying.
Izuku knows it’s unhealthy to think of Katsuki as his, but he just can’t help it. He knows it’s weird to think of himself as one with Katsuki. He can’t help but think that their souls are intertwined. Maybe it's crazy talking. Maybe it’s the years of hardship that all have one common denominator. Maybe it’s the fact that there was only ever one person there with him every step of the way his whole life. Maybe it’s because that person was Kacchan. That has to be the reason Izuku can’t untie his heart from Katsuki’s.
Izuku just stares. He stares at the back of a certain someone’s head again. He does that a lot lately.
He’s startled when suddenly he finds that certain someone staring right back at him. Again. Kacchan doesn’t look annoyed. He doesn’t look angry or bothered. He just locks eyes with Izuku. And for a second, Izuku thinks Kacchan might be staring at him the exact way he stares at Kacchan… with longing.
With hope.
This time, Izuku is the one to break the spell. He turns around toward his friends. He’s starting to think he’s getting way too into his own head. His thoughts are beginning to bleed out and blend with reality. He can’t tell what’s real anymore.
“… Right Deku?” Ochako stares at him. Crap, he doesn’t know what they were talking about.
“Uhh, what? Sorry, I zoned out.”
“Oh! No worries, I’ll say it again!”
Izuku proceeds to pretend to listen. Then, he pretends to know the answer.
———
Izuku lies awake most nights. Sleep isn’t something that comes naturally to a person who has been traumatized. In fact, in most cases, sleep is not welcomed. Sleep is unappreciated. Unappealing.
Tonight is no different from any other night. Izuku lies in wake, staring at the smooth, white ceiling.
Sometimes, Izuku dreams about all the odd shapes and jagged lines strewn across the ceiling at home. He wishes he could go back and sleep in his own bed. He wishes he could sleep in his own room.
Izuku wishes for a lot of things these days, but what he wishes for the most is comfort. He wants to feel dust beneath his feet as he walks on the hardwood floor. He wants to hear the creek of old wood ready to give out under his weight. He wants to hear the steady sound of his mother's breath and the smell of cheap ramen wading in from his small kitchen. He wants to feel the soft beating of someone’s heart inside their chest, like a symphony. He needs comfort.
Izuku calls for comfort and it comes.
He hears a faint thudding from the ceiling his eyes have been trained on, and he knows exactly what it is. It is peace.
Izuku feels the warmth bleeding from the floor above, like fire. It heats up his insides and coddles his freezing heart.
His feet hit the floor and he’s off. The soft pitter-patter of his steps and the creak of the door as he opens it doesn’t bother him, not like it used to.
He scurries down the hall and to the stairs, looking around cautiously before opening the door to the stairwell. He treads lightly up the steps, eagerly approaching his destination.
Once he reaches his destination, the heat meets his face. Izuku melts. He fidgets with his hands, knocks on the door, and fidgets some more.
The door opens and immediately he’s pulled into a tight embrace. Soft, lax fingers find their way across his body, mapping out every inch and savoring every twitch and pull. He relaxes into the touch, reaching out to wrap his arms around a strong, muscular back.
Izuku sighs. He is so comfortable. Was he not before? Izuku can’t even remember.
“Hey, nerd.”
Izuku groans in response to the casual greeting and he’s met with a soft laugh.
Katsuki continues, “What’s got you all anxious, huh?”
Izuku groans again. He doesn’t need to talk. He just needs this. He needs his Kacchan. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever needed anything else.
Kacchan laughs again, clearly amused. “Talk to me, Deku.” He pulls back, beckoning Izuku to release his grip. Izuku groans for the third time. Or the hundredth. Who knows?
Kacchan looks down at Izuku and grabs his chin, forcing him to look anywhere but the ground. Their eyes meet. Izuku’s knees buckle and he has to focus on keeping himself upright.
“I’m not going to ask again so just answer me. What’s up with you?” Kacchan threatens.
Izuku is tempted to not answer. Just let Kacchan yell at him. He’d let Kacchan do anything as long as he sticks around.
“Nothing, okay? I’m just tired. I need…” Izuku trails off. God, this is embarrassing.
“Huh? You need what Izuku? Tell me.”
“I just wanna be close to you,” Izuku admits. He’d say he’s unashamed but it wouldn’t be true. He feels pretty pathetic right now. He feels pathetic all the time though, so he guesses it’s nothing new.
“That it, huh? You want to be close to me? That’s all it is?”
Izuku nods, shamefully. He is so sick of feeling like this. If he could just reach out and…
Then, he’s touching Kacchan, dragging delicate, rugged fingers across the smooth skin of Kacchan’s chest. He is saved. Izuku no longer feels humiliated. He feels nothing other than the effortless glide of his touch against soft flesh.
After a beat, Kacchan speaks, “I can make that happen.”
Suddenly, he’s being pulled back into another intoxicating hug. He’s being held and he can’t help but say this is the thing he’s been yearning for his entire life.
He’s grabbing and pulling against Kacchan’s skin, desperately trying to get closer. He needs more.
Kacchan reaches down and tugs against the back of Izuku’s thighs. Izuku jumps, and Katsuki catches him. He wraps his legs around the blonde's thin waste. They stay just like that for a while. Izuku in Katsuki’s arms. Katsuki holding him.
These moments always make up for the tug-of-war in Izuku’s mind. This is the straw that always breaks the camel's back. The piece that completes the puzzle. Kacchan is the hole that lingers in Izuku’s heart everywhere he goes. No matter how many times Izuku wonders if he should let the silly idea of Kacchan he’s built in his head go, these are the moments that solidify Katsuki’s character. These are the moments that make Izuku want to slap himself for ever thinking that what he feels for Kacchan might be wrong.
Izuku doesn’t even realize he’s been moved until Kacchan is setting him gently on the bed. The blonde moves to plug his phone into the charger and plop it down on the nightstand. He doesn’t hesitate before joining Izuku, wrapping himself and Izuku up in the comforter.
Kacchan grabs Izuku’s hand underneath the blanket.
“Sleep,” Katsuki commands, “You need it.”
Izuku decides he’s right. It’s only fair to listen, so he closes his eyes. Kacchan does the same and they fall asleep like that, hand in hand, hearts connected, comforting each other through sleep. Everything is where it needs to be. Izuku is where he longs to be. He is at peace.
———
Izuku is cold. He’s shivering. His eyes open and he’s afraid to look over because he knows his gaze might not meet anything. He knows his gaze might not meet anyone else’s.
When he reluctantly turns his head, he sees soft, blonde, spikes. Izuku remembers that right here, right now, he’s allowed to touch. To feel. He does. Kacchan stirs, turning further away and taking the blanket with him. That’s why Izuku is cold!
He tries carefully prying the comforter from Katsuki’s grip, scared to wake the blonde. He then tries to slip under slivers of unclaimed warmth. His methods are ineffective.
Izuku decides he can do whatever he wants, so inevitably, he clings to the next warmest thing in the room, Kacchan. He wraps his arms around the blonde, getting a feel for the light in a room trapped in darkness. He envelops himself in the glow and basks in the comfort. Izuku thinks this completes him. Being connected to Kacchan is all he’s ever wanted.
Kacchan stirs. Before he knows it, Izuku is being moved from his place atop the blonde's body. Kacchan turns over from his side onto his back. He pulls the blankets out from under himself and maneuvers them so that they cover Izuku too. Then, he halls Izuku back onto him so that Izuku is lying directly on top of his beating heart. Kacchan doesn’t say anything. He does not need to.
Izuku settles into his best friend's arms. He thinks he is content to listen to the sound of the blonde's methodic breathing for the rest of his life. He is content to stay just like this forever.
Izuku finds solace in the evidence of Katsuki’s presence. Even if Katsuki did not feel the same, the sound of his disagreement would comfort Izuku anyway.