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It had been two months, three days, and around six hours since Katsuki and Izuku had last seen each other in person.
Not that the blonde was keeping count. Not on purpose, at least, but between his back-to-back twelve hour shifts, and the moments he spared for himself to sleep and eat every few days, he couldn’t help but recall the last time he had seen Izuku.
The boy had come to a class-wide get together at a nice yakiniku joint. Izuku and Katsuki always saw each other the most out of anyone in the class, save the few who seemed to team up for missions, (but nobody really counted those), so it was a welcome get together as a change of pace for the two. That was not one of their makeshift meetups with cheap beer and surprise balcony visits when Katsuki could practically force his way into Izuku’s presence– no, it was a planned and proper get together. One that respectable adults at the age of twenty five should be having.
Izuku and Katsuki weren’t that respectable anyways.
At that way-too-nice-for-Katsuki’s-struggling-bank-account yakiniku place, Izuku and Katsuki got lost in conversation with the others, barely having time to catch up and chat with each other before they were blasted as they had been so many times before. No big deal, they promised they would meet up in the weeks to come to bask in each other's presence.
Boy were they wrong.
It wasn’t uncommon, as an adult who had things to do, for Katsuki to not see his Class A buddies for months at a time. Hell, when he was twenty, he didn’t see Kirishima for a whole eleven months, only to meet him again and realize he hadn’t seen him since his last birthday. It was a strange and cathartic feeling, to be too busy to notice the difference, but Katsuki felt it come naturally.
When it came to Izuku, he could feel his absence somewhere below his lungs, stabbing up into his vital organs and twisting around. Like a missing piece, as cliche as it sounded. He longed for the freckled boy like a person longs for food or water, something carnal and desperate to see him eating Katsuki alive each waking day. Just a moment to bask in the man’s all encompassing goodness was enough for Katsuki, really, but it didn’t make leaving him after any easier.
So, he did what any non-respectable adult would do, and shoved his way into Izuku’s life through promises of convenience store food and gentle touches that they would both remember to forget in the morning. It worked for them, and that was enough. Katsuki could take enough, and shove it deep inside of him, hold those moments close, and try not to think about how little of Izuku he truly had to hold on to.
Friends, he would call it. They knew they were something more, but for their busy lives, friends was enough.
Though, as Katsuki sprawled out on his couch, bored out of his mind on his first night off in seven weeks— as he had been practically forced home by his assistant at Dynamight agency— he started to believe that uneasy label of ‘friends’ was more uneasy than he might have thought. His stomach was doing that familiar twisting thing as he thought of Izuku’s fluttering dark eyelashes in the yakiniku restaurant all those months back, his heart clenching tightly as he remembered every soft brush of the man’s hands he had received since high school.
Katsuki wasn’t stupid, nor was he blind. Partially deaf? Sure. But blind? Definitely not. He understood damn well what his hot face and thundering heart meant around Izuku. He had understood since he laid his life out for him on the battlefield in their first year’s first war, and he understood it now.
But, as far as Katsuki was concerned, love could go fuck itself. Those feelings he had for Izuku only held him back. Those beautiful, unique, flowering emotions that rippled from his heart out to every tendon in his body were only a roadblock for Katsuki. A tease, as a grand punishment from a divine whatever-the-fuck that wanted to mess with his mortal life. Katsuki didn’t deserve to have these feelings for Izuku, and he knew it. He had felt the promise of his feelings being returned so many times, only for Izuku to pull away time and time again.
It had to be punishment. It just had to be.
So there. Friends it was, he guessed, pulling himself from his slumped position on his couch. The stove clock in his kitchen blinked a repetitive seven o’clock reminder, the world around his apartment dark in the early fall evening. Opening his barren fridge, Katsuki figured he had enough to scrounge together some egg dish, scowling at the thought of cooking with the dispondance radiating in his hollow stomach. He dragged his hands across his face, groaning into them. He was tired, but not a sleepy kind of tired, more like a deep exhaustion with everything in his life.
He couldn’t even take time off, lest he spiral into his Izuku-based pining, ruining any chance he had at actually relaxing. Why relax when he could be seeing Izuku? He can’t see Izuku? Well then why relax when he can work to pass the time until he sees Izuku?
See the issue? Katsuki was practically floating until those moments he could see Izuku again. It was so pathetic, he wanted to punch his reflection. But then, if Izuku decided to come over to his apartment, like those rare few times he had, he would have to explain that… so maybe not.
God, he needed to shut the fuck up.
Katsuki was thankful when his phone began to ring on his small counter top, the sound ringing out into the silence of his lonely apartment like a convenient and welcome distraction from his familiar spiraling thoughts. He wandered over to the counter, pretending not to care, as he had so many times before, and flipped his phone over, holding it up to see just who was saving him from his mind for a few moments. When he saw Izuku’s caller ID, a private heart placed next to the boy’s contact name, Katsuki nearly dropped his phone in surprise, eyebrows raising to his hairline. After fumbling for a spare second, he swiftly answered, pulling the device to his ear in a bout of desperation.
“Izuku, hi.” Katsuki said on the line, nearly breathless with surprise. His heart pittered in his chest lightly, like the small steps of a bunny rabbit left in a fresh snow. He could feel the grin he was fighting off of his face pull at his lips.
“Kacchan!” Izuku said excitedly on the other end, to which Katsuki’s grin fully formed, stretching across his pale skin like a mark he would be unable to shed.
“Sorry– I know I went kinda AWOL, it’s just that after summer break it gets kind of crazy here, and…” Izuku trailed off, his excuses falling flat in his own chest.
“Well– yeah. Sorry.” he said finally, his tone awkward and apologetic. Katsuki couldn’t care one bit about where Izuku had been in the past couple months, just that he was speaking to him, his voice soft and gentle across the electronic garble of his cellphone.
“It’s fine. I’ve been busy as shit too.” Katsuki half-lied. Sure, he had been working non-stop, and he practically lived in his agency, doing paperwork, but he would have never considered himself too busy for Izuku. Not even a little bit.
It hadn’t been as though the two men hadn’t spoken over the phone in the months between their last meeting, moreso that it had been few and far between, with short conversations while both of the men were on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. Oftentimes, Izuku would call Katsuki– or vise-versa– just to say hi, and fall asleep on the line together, hanging up in the morning. Those moments were sweet, but it wasn’t anything like seeing each other.
Not even a little bit.
“You’ve been doing well, Kacchan. I saw your interview on the drug bust raid, you’ve gotta start being nicer to reporters.” Izuku said, a smile obvious in his words across the line. Katsuki felt something loosen in his chest, smiling so widely it hurt his cheeks.
“God, you sound like the Commission assholes. They’re sending me to media literacy classes, whatever that means.” Katsuki huffed, taking a seat at his dining table as he played with his hoodie string. Izuku chuckled on the other end, and Katsuki’s heart soared.
“Darn. So you’re gonna be more busy?” Izuku said, his voice layered with sarcasm. Katsuki scoffed at the boy, tugging on his hoodie string further.
“Yeah, fuckface. Don’t get too upset on me now.” Katsuki said, his grin audible on the other end of the line. He could hear the small exhale of air between Izuku’s lips as he huffed a fond half-laugh.
“Well then I guess the oh so busy Dynamight doesn’t have time to grab drinks and udon with me later tonight?” Izuku teased. Katsuki jolted upwards from his slumped position, his heart racing in his chest like a pathetic schoolgirl.
“… Tonight?” He said, his mouth near dry with the thought.
“Yeah, I got done marking early, but if it’s a busy time for you—“
“No, no. Shit, I mean— yes. Yeah, let’s meet up.” Katsuki responded, so quickly he would have hit himself for his desperation if he were any less excited. He could hear Izuku huff a small laugh on the other end of the call.
“God, I’ve missed you.” He mused, his voice so soft it threatened to squeeze Katsuki’s heart into Jello in his chest. Heaven knows his heart didn’t need any more problems.
“Me too.” He mumbled, his smile fading as he thought of the endless streams of lonely nights where he burned for Izuku. Missed wasn’t quite the right word, he would have personally used something like yearned .
“... Then… meet me at Miya in an hour or so?” Izuku said, sounding a little more bashful than Katsuki remembered. He felt his chest flutter again, pathetic as it was.
“You know it.” Katsuki smiled.
“Don’t keep me waiting, shitty nerd.” The hero said, his voice dripping in affection despite his harsh words. Izuku giggled across the line.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
.
.
.
Katsuki was going to kill Izuku.
Now, he had said that at many points in his life, with varying severity, all to the displeasure of the other boy, but this time he meant it. Set it in stone, write it down, put it in a blender, and rewrite it; Katsuki planned to kill Izuku. Painfully.
The blonde didn’t feel this way without reason, most definitely not. He had been waiting at Izuku’s sketchy-ass udon place for twenty six minutes with absolutely no sign of the boy, except for a text sent a mere eight minutes ago telling Katsuki that his train was late. Honestly, Izuku had always been so polite, so what gives with his fucked manners for meeting Katsuki?
Yeah, maybe Katsuki was being a little unreasonable, plotting how he could punch the boy in the gut for making him get his hopes up, and even more embarrassingly, punch him even harder for making him look as though he was stood up by some date. ( Thee Dynamight! Stood up? Never.) But he would say that he was entirely justified on the grounds of being borderline in love with Izuku. Honestly– making him giddy like a child just to sit in some dimly lit restaurant with very private booths to eat at alone ?
Yeah, Izuku was going to die.
Lost in his Izuku-based plotting, Katsuki barely noticed when Izuku had, in fact, strolled in through the cloth doors at the front of the udon restaurant. Maybe it was on account of Katsuki’s totally-fool-proof-disguise-baseball-cap (Trademark) blocking his sight, but Izuku was able to spot him first, excitedly walking over to the little booth Katsuki was practically seething inside of.
“Kacchan!” Izuku excitedly exclaimed, a smile lighting up his face like Christmas lights on a dead winter night. He waved, adjusting his school-bag filled with all of his work materials on his broad shoulder. Katsuki whipped his head up to face the boy, face seething with rage.
“You absolute asshole . Do you know how late you a–?!” Katsuki began to berate Izuku, but not before his words could fall flat in his mouth, failing to escape the confines of his enraged chest.
“Sorry! Sorry! I know– did you get my text about the train? Honestly, my bad!” Izuku panicked, face apologetic.
Katsuki couldn’t care less about Izuku’s words, as the boy smoothly pulled his tie away from his neck, revealing the pale expanse of skin flush with sweat from his hurried state. He pushed his hair back out of his eyes, presenting the small remainder of where a scar once trailed down from his hairline. His muscles flexed obviously under his pristine white button-up, his hands scarred and defined as they raked through his hair. Katsuki felt hot again, this time for an entirely different reason.
“The train systems here are really bad early in the night– they made an extra stop to let off hordes of salarymen, I really should have called or something.” Izuku hurriedly said, before Katsuki could put a stop to his ramblings.
“It’s fine. I’m happy to see you.” He said, oddly calm, his voice stretched and thin with the force of his attraction to the freckled boy now sitting across from him. Izuku swiftly took off his work bag, smiling through the action, before he looked up at Katsuki, grinning knowingly.
“Always a charmer, Kacchan.” He joked, pearly teeth glinting in the dim restaurant lighting. Katsuki huffed, rolling his eyes.
“Fuck off, pretty-boy.” Katsuki said slyly, his voice smooth as honey. He watched with full attention as Izuku flushed down to the bone, making his freckles stand out like seeds against a watermelon. His eyes were wide for a moment, staring back at Katsuki’s intense gaze, before bursting out into an earnest laugh.
His sing-song giggles made something swoon in Katsuki’s chest, pulling the sound into the deepest recesses of his soul to hold on to forever. He’d heard that song so many times, but so rarely directed towards him. He’d never forget it.
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Kacchan.” Izuku said, softly placing his broad hand over Katsuki’s, practically holding it on top of the table. Katsuki could die. Actually– he would die if Izuku kept this level of flirting up.
He was being a lot .
“How have you been?” Izuku asked, his voice a lot more collected and professional than it was when he last spoke. The common phrase snapped Katsuki out of his heart-touching-reverie.
“Fine. Tired as shit, as usual, but fine.” He answered simply, shrugging lightly. This was the kind of conversation he was used to with Izuku, he could handle this.
“I don’t know why you work so much. Seriously– it’s gonna kill you one day.” Izuku stated bluntly, eyebrows furrowing. Katsuki opened his mouth to retort, but was swiftly cut off.
“You work sixty hours pretty much every week– which should be illegal, by the way– and you still don’t even wanna spend money on the nicer beers when we meet up.” Izuku said, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Katsuki huffed a small laugh at the joke.
“What I spend my money on is none of your business, nosey.” He said, pulling one of his fingers back, and flicking Izuku’s hand on the table. He was thankful for the mobility he had left in his one flesh arm, as opposed to the more rigid movement of his mechanical one. Izuku flinched slightly, letting out a small yelp with a smile.
“I still wonder. I mean… With the cash you’re raking in, you could live in any penthouse in Musutafu, but you still live…” Izuku trailed off, Katsuki sending him a warning glare.
“... Where you live…” He finished lamely, looking away in embarrassment. Katsuki heaved a sigh, rolling his neck in an exhausted fashion.
“We’ve talked about this before, Izuku.” Katsuki growled flatly. Izuku flushed slightly, pouting.
“Usually you’re drunker before you’re this bold about my lifestyle choices. You feelin’ bold tonight?” Katsuki said, grinning at the curly-haired man across from him as he smoothly redirected the conversation. Izuku hummed in consideration, a smile slowly spreading across his rosy face.
“Maybe you’re just shyer than normal. I’ve always been very direct with you, Kacchan.” Izuku said, dragging his viridian eyes back over to meet Katsuki’s heavy gaze. His grin left his eyes curved like crescent moons, his cheeks flushed and freckled, as appealing as a fresh breeze in the summertime. Katsuki swallowed dryly, feeling himself getting lost in the bright green flecks of light in Izuku’s eyes.
After what could have been an eternity, Katsuki pried his line of sight away from Izuku’s bright eyes, and looked over to the waiter passing their table.
“‘Scuse me, can we order?” He said smoothly, to which the man nodded, turning to the two men.
Izuku ordered some apple soju, not exactly Katsuki’s favourite, but he could stomach it, while Katsuki ordered Ianiwa udon– just light enough to pair nicely with the sweet alcohol the men would be downing.
Soon enough, the two were awaiting their food, Izuku cracking open the green bottle in front of them, as he daintily poured a glass for both him and Katsuki. The freckled man moved quite expertly with alcohol, Katsuki found, since he had gone off to teacher’s college in his early twenties to work at UA. Katsuki wondered, sometimes, if some cool senior had taught Izuku how to drink at parties, maybe gotten to see his flushed face more times than Katsuki, maybe even gotten to hold his strong shoulders as he threw up his guts at some lame party.
Okay, maybe it was more than sometimes.
But still– Katsuki didn’t quite know when Izuku had become so good at drinking, but he had. At some point between their desperate clinging hug they shared at graduation, and the last time he had intensely watched Izuku’s fluttering eyelashes under the light of a yakiniku restaurant, the supposedly lame-ass-nerd had become extremely well versed on not only how to tolerate the poison, but make a show out of serving it, too.
Izuku, on his first shot, would pour it out normally, not missing a drop, and slide it over to whoever he was drinking with like it came second nature. He could talk while doing it, barely even watching the shot-glass while he poured. That was what he did, as Katsuki watched.
“ –so that’s totally confusing to me, because I knew I took away his game. Turns out, this little shit brought not one, not two , but three Nintendo Switches into my class!” Izuku giggled. Katsuki burst out into a loud laugh, watching intensely as Izuku’s fingers daintily twisted off the cap of the soju with a twisting movement of his arms, pouring the clear liquid as he continued to talk, before sliding it over as Katsuki had observed so many times before.
“They’re fucking freaks this year, eh?” Katsuki questioned, clinking his shot glass together with Izuku’s. Some of his drink poured over the side, but none of Izuku’s did. He noted it immediately.
Izuku snorted.
“Not as bad as we were, but damn are they close.” He smiled widely, before promptly taking his first shot. Katsuki watched his throat bob as he bent his head back, before Katsuki followed in suit, pushing back the clear liquid. It only stung a little on the way down, his teenage days of wincing at the taste of whatever liquor he could get his hands on long over.
“I’d hope you never get students like us. Jesus Christ– we were brats.” Katsuki grinned, dropping his head slightly. Izuku poured another shot, giggling at his words.
“Never thought I’d say it, but Mr. Aizawa was right. We were fucking problem children .” Katsuki sighed, a half-hearted Aizawa impression bursting from his lips with his words. Izuku promptly placed the soju back against the table before he doubled over in a giggling fit, eyebrows lifted and face stretched in a wide smile. Katsuki felt his heart soar at the sight.
“Shut up! You’re way too good at that!” Izuku continued laughing, sending Katsuki’s shot glass back over to him through choked giggles. Katsuki huffed, raising his glass for Izuku.
“To being problem adults this time around.” Katsuki grinned, his voice teasing and dripping with joy. Izuku finally curbed his giggles with a sigh, raising his glass also, before taking a shot alongside Katsuki. As soon as he finished, he slammed the glass down on the table, grinning up at the blonde.
“ Adults. As if– we’re both disasters.” Izuku smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. Katsuki also huffed a laugh, pushing his hair back from his face. He was starting to feel the flush settle in on his skin, reminding himself to slow down.
That was until Izuku pulled out his third or fourth shot move. He would place the shot cup on his elbow, winking at Katsuki, before pouring out the soju from a greater height, watching the clear liquid fall skillfully down into the cup. Katsuki felt the heat flare in his face as he observed Izuku’s focused gaze.
“Does that trick ever get old to you?” Katsuki questioned, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned forward in his seat. Izuku smoothly lifted the shot glass off of his elbow, downing it back in an instant. He let out a pleased sigh, to which Katsuki huffed a laugh.
“Nah. I’m gonna do that trick at your wedding, Kacchan.” Izuku grinned ear to ear, his face set with a healthy flush. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, biting his tongue to hold back his entirely inappropriate remark about Izuku being the groom at his wedding, or something ridiculous like that.
He would give up his other arm for that thought to become a reality.
“Slow down, fuckface. You’re gonna vomit in your udon.” Katsuki growled, pouring himself another shot, a shiver of heat rolling up his spine. Izuku watched Katsuki’s movements with extreme interest, his smile melting off of his face, eyes hungry.
“Not my fault you’re a lightweight…” Izuku pouted slightly, to which Katsuki clicked his tongue, eyes glancing back upwards to meet Izuku’s intense gaze. The freckled man’s eyes were already lidded, a signifier that he was a little tipsier than he let on.
“Should a goodie-goodie UA teacher really be fuckin’ downing soju like some every-day filth? Honestly, your reputation is gonna get tarnished hanging around me.” Katsuki grinned teasingly, pushing back his own shot. Izuku sighed dreamily.
“Even if the media thinks you’re some bad-boy, I know you, Kacchan.” Izuku said smoothly, his face far too warm and open for Katsuki’s rapidly beating heart. Izuku’s hand reached up, smoothing his calloused thumb along Katsuki’s scar that stretched beneath his right eye, and if Katsuki’s heart hadn’t exploded years ago, he was sure it would have just then.
“And I know…” Izuku trailed off, his eyes flicking down to look at Katsuki’s lips, before tracing back up to his eyes.
“That you go to bed at eight P.M like some virgin.” Izuku grinned, eyes swirling with mirth. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed, his face flushed, but couldn’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at Izuku’s joke. He shooed the man’s hand away from his face, grinning.
“Oh, fuck off.” He said, his words stretched through the audible filter of his wide grin. He poured himself another shot, passing the bottle to Izuku, and practically inhaled the sweet liquid.
After a small amount of time, a couple more stories about their respective work lives in the past two months, and another half a bottle of soju, their udon came out, beautiful and exciting to the two men who very much needed some food to curb how heavily the alcohol was hitting them.
“This place–” Izuku said between a slurp of his noodles.
“Has been around since the pre-quirk era.” Izuku said, chewing happily. His eyes excitedly raked across the room. Katsuki half-heartedly noted that Izuku had gotten to his tipsy point of being extra-rambly. He let out a small grunt for the man to continue talking, to which he promptly did.
“They actually had to replace the entire building overtime, so much so that it’s said that not even a single board is original in this place. I mean– it’s gotta be true, considering how great the varnish looks and stuff, but the entire place is literally exactly built how it would have been a hundred years ago– even some of the signs are the same!” Izuku excitedly said, pointing swiftly over to a bulletin board on the wall behind Katsuki’s head. Katsuki turned around to look up at it, slurping a noodle into his mouth.
“Fuck– how isn’t that shit in a museum?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow as he looked at the worn edges of the poster. Judging by how cheap everything on the poster seemed, Katsuki didn’t even doubt for a second that it was at least a hundred years old.
“Right?” Izuku said, before slurping back another noodle.
“Shit– It’s hot in here.” Katsuki growled, pulling at his shirt to alleviate the sweat building up between his abdomen and chest. He could feel his face burning, the alcohol-flushing gene passed down to him from his lightweight father. Honestly, the one gene he had got from him, and it had to be a weak one.
Thanks, Masaru.
Izuku stopped eating, staring down at Katsuki’s hand as he pulled at his shirt, watching the muscles flex beneath his skin while he moved. His eyes trailed up to trace Katsuki’s now visible collarbone, the pale skin entirely too appealing to his touch-starved mind. For a moment, he wished he could lick the sweat trailing down from the man’s neck, but he looked back down at his noodles before he could do anything he’d regret too much in the morning.
“What does your sweat taste like?” Izuku asked, slurping up another noodle. Katsuki hummed at this question, ignoring the rush of heat that burned at his skin from the thought of Izuku tasting his sweat. He paused to consider the question for a moment.
“... Kinda sweet..? Shit burns though. It’s the worst when it gets in my eyes.” Katsuki answered truthfully, swallowing back his noodles. He grabbed the near-finished soju bottle, pouring himself another shot.
“Why, you wanna taste me?” He joked, before pushing back the liquid, it’s sweetness becoming near-insufferable on his thickly coated tongue. Izuku was silent for a moment, seeming to consider something behind his warm green eyes.
“... Can I?” He answered, after a long moment.
“Can you what?” Katsuki asked again, his alcohol riddled brain entirely losing whatever stream of coherent thought he had had until asking that question. The restaurant was too noisy, too warm, and completely too Izuku-fied for Katsuki to possibly focus on the words coming out of his mouth.
Izuku huffed a dry laugh.
“Lightweight.” He teased. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed, pushing his finished udon bowl to the side, and pouring himself another shot, before taking Izuku’s glass, and pouring the man a shot as well, finishing off the very last bit of the sweet apple soju. At that point, it was near lukewarm anyways.
“Bitch.” Katsuki cursed, taking the shot back like a champ. Maybe Izuku was right, and he could feel the heat pooling in his stomach like a warning sign, but he would pointedly ignore that sign, and pretend he wasn’t drinking to allow himself to feel a little less nervous near Izuku.
“Mean.” Izuku spat back, taking his shot back with a grin. Katsuki scowled up at his dopey grin, turning to a passing waiter.
“Yo, another bottle. Thanks.” Katsuki said. As long as his words weren’t too slurred to understand, he could keep downing Izuku’s alcohol of choice, and promptly squash down the embarrassing heat flushing his face as Izuku watched him like a lover.
The waiter came back in what felt like moments, passing them the bottle. A fire was renewed within Katsuki’s chest and stomach, this time, not caused by the spirit he was gulping back like water. He might have been having a little too much fun, distracted by Izuku’s practically glowing green eyes under the warm lights hanging over their little booth amidst the noise of the weeknight drunks, but in what felt like a mere couple of seconds, he had choked back another six shots, and could practically feel his brain pooling out of his ears.
He finally laid his head down on the table, admitting his surrender with a burning sensation in his throat and stomach. Izuku let out a cackle, going back to calling Katsuki a lightweight as though his words were any less slurred. Had he been anyone but the love of Katsuki’s life, the blonde would have sobered up right then, and socked the cocky motherfucker in the jaw. But alas, he found it charming.
Nah. Killing Izuku was definitely back on the table. If not for punctuality errors, for pure embarrassment factor.
“Wanna get out of here?” Izuku questioned, grinning down at Katsuki’s slumped form, though the man couldn’t see it. He grumbled back a ‘yes’ through his tired face pressed against the table, and Izuku laughed.
He swiftly paid the bill, much to Katsuki’s dismay, and practically dragged the blonde back out into the cool mid-autumn night. The winds rustling through the midnight streets felt like a welcome press of life to Katsuki’s face, sobering him up just enough to walk without needing to hold onto Izuku like the world’s most unstable crutch. He coolly tucked his hands in his pockets, breathing in the surprisingly fresh city air, mulling through the crowd as though he wasn’t nearly seeing stars. Izuku seemed entirely collected on the outside, if not for his heavily lidded eyes and obviously flushed face.
Katsuki was caught staring a little more than he would have liked.
“... Do you wanna go home?” Izuku asked, so quiet Katsuki almost didn’t hear it through the hustle and bustle of the nightlife of Musutafu around them. Katsuki pretended to think of his answer for a moment, as though he wasn’t entirely one-hundred percent certain he would spend the rest of his life wandering the streets at night with Izuku if he could.
“Nah. Not at all.” He answered simply, his warm breath coming out in a white puff of air from his lips. He swallowed back his now apparent nerves, eyes looking anywhere but at the smaller male next to him. If Katsuki had spared a glance Izuku’s way, he would have seen the soft smile that etched it’s way into his face like a glowing beacon of happiness.
“Yeah, me neither.” He sighed softly, eyes trailing up to watch Katsuki’s side profile. It was as strong as it had been since they were young, a higher nose bridge than Izuku’s, along with a more well-defined jaw. Sometimes it saddened Izuku to see Katsuki’s baby-cheeks that had persisted into his teen years had left him in the years between when they had left UA and become adults, but then he got to trace the subtle movements of the man’s jaw muscles beneath his soft skin, and found he didn’t mind as much.
There were a lot of things he was getting used to. A lot of things that seemed so scary so long ago. Maybe he was changing, maybe the world was, but all Izuku knew in that moment was that his heart ached when he drank too much and had to leave Katsuki to go home. So for that moment, Izuku would stay, and Katsuki would thank whatever deity had caused it to happen a million times over in the chaotic expanses of his intoxicated mind.
“I have a place I wanna show you. C’mon.” Izuku said cheerfully, the soft quietness of their previous exchange promptly washing away. He softly grabbed Katsuki’s arm, linking his hand through it, before Katsuki pulled away. Izuku looked back, hurt flashing across his features, before Katsuki took the man’s hand, lacing their fingers together in a gentle fashion that made Izuku’s lungs stutter. Katsuki’s heart thumped so loudly, he feared Izuku would be able to hear it.
The freckled boy stared up at Katsuki, eyes wide, face flushed for a moment too long, before Katsuki decided to speak up, willing the flush off of his own face.
“... You gonna show me, or what?” He grumbled, to which Izuku promptly thrust his mind back into his body, clearing his throat awkwardly. Some teenagers walking past the two giggled, but neither paid them any mind in their drunken states.
“Yeah. Totally.” Izuku said, his voice cracking in the middle like some pubescent teen. Katsuki smiled at the noise, watching Izuku’s curls bounce with his steps as he began to lead Katsuki down a side street, his hand still linked flush against Katsuki’s rough palm.
They walked down a few streets for what seemed like an eternity and no time at all to Katsuki, until they made their way to a neverending set of steps. He wondered if Izuku was leading him up to a shrine, what with the stone steps and lanterns adorning the sides of the steps in rows, but didn’t dare break the comfortable silence between them to ask.
The steps continued on upwards forever, coated in dead leaves that had loftily drifted down from the trees in the chill of the night. Katsuki watched as one landed in Izuku’s green locks, but he didn’t dare pick it out. It was rather cute, lodged in his curls like a reminder of the night. He wondered if the man would pick it out in the morning, and remember just how sweaty Katsuki’s hand was against his own.
The lanterns only lit the path around them, leaving the rest of the forest in a deep blue glow that seemed to come with nighttime in the city; never quite dark enough to be truly black, instead stuck in this lingering state between too bright to sleep and too dark to stay awake. A lot of things in life were contradictory like that. Katsuki loved the sun, but he hated the heat. Katsuki wanted Izuku, but he would never get close enough to have him.
Contradictions were everywhere, in Katsuki’s opinion.
Finally, the steps stopped winding upwards, and Izuku led Katsuki forward onto what seemed to be a man-made stone clearing, with the trees giving way to the well-lit pavilion. Izuku turned around to beam at Katsuki, his eyes swirling with stars, lighting up the night with a heavenly glow.
“You’ll like this.” Izuku said, pulling Katsuki forward, until he could see out past a railing along the stone.
Beyond that railing laid the entirety of Musutafu, bright lights dancing and twinkling like stars that had fallen to the ground, continuing to dance and swirl in Katsuki’s vision. He could see the sign that lit up the old shopping mall he went to as a child, and he could just barely make out the area near the mountains that he grew up in. Maybe, if he wasn’t drunk, he could have picked out a few more places, but nostalgia seems to crowd the mind when you get older.
Katsuki could barely breathe, staring out at the magnificent sight, his life suddenly seemed so much smaller. Now, looking down at the streets he roamed, he realized just how close his entire life had been. He had always thought he had changed so much, but how could he have? His entire life was among the stars, and when he took a step back, he was always right by Izuku’s side. If he choked back the stinging tears in his eyes, he made sure not to let Izuku notice it.
“You know…” Izuku began, leaning his head against Katsuki’s shoulder. His curls ghosted against Katsuki’s exposed neck, making the boy shiver.
“When you’re in the right lighting, your eyes have a little orange in them.” Izuku hummed, leaning against Katsuki, practically melting into his warmth. Katsuki didn’t dare say anything, but the wobbly smile stretching across his face spoke volumes. He wanted to reach out and grasp Izuku in his palm, hold him gently, and never let go. He wanted to spend every waking moment of his life dedicated to the boy leaning against him, capturing the sweet scent of apple soju puffing out from his mouth into the crisp air surrounding their warm bodies on his tongue. He wanted to marry him.
He really, really wished he could have.
… But Katsuki wasn’t nearly that poetic, nor bold, as many would assume. Instead, he let his grin practically split his face, leaning his head down on top of Izuku’s fluffy curls as he watched the fallen stars dance across his swirling vision, and squeezed his rival’s scarred hand in his own, speaking all of the words he just couldn’t vocalize.
Katsuki held onto that moment, and memorized it as though he would be playing it on loop in his mind forever. It was warm in his palms on a frigid day, cool on his face in the midst of a fever. That moment was all Katsuki needed to keep going, pushing himself a million times harder, all for the love of his life, who smelled so strongly of apple soju it threatened to make him sick.
“I’ll catch up to you one day.” Katsuki whispered, his voice rough and thick with emotion. Izuku grinned widely, his chest fluttering with a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget.
“You always do.”
> “Hello?”
> “Hello, Dynamight, this is Mei Hatsume speaking!”
> “...Right.”
>“I just thought you should be the first to know,”
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> “The suit is ready.”