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“Breaking News!” The news anchor’s distorted voice warped through the speakers, stained with static and white noise. “Law Enforcement have completed a sweep of the greater Shinjuku Area after a villain attack and the subsequent hero response lead to mass destruction. Civilians are still reporting significant delays as the Shinjuku Station has come to a complete and total shut-down. Our eyes in the sky are coming to us with live coverage–”
Green eyes were glazed-over as they stayed glued to the screen, barely registering the way the grainy images splintered and wavered at uneven intervals. It didn’t matter, anyway; Izuku had heard it all before.
The complaints, the outrage, the frustration with heroes that treated the world they lived in like a training ground. It wasn’t anything new–but being on the other end of the cameras, broadcasted nationwide to become the scapegoat for the common people’s anger, was a different beast altogether.
It was just another gruelling aspect of what it meant to be a hero.
Izuku learned the hard way that he’d never be good at it–but he still never seemed to learn. Like an old dog with a new trick, he fed the vicious cycle until his bones were dogged and his mind rotted from exhaustion.
“–Hero Safety Commission President, Hawks, and the Chief of the National Police Reserve, Tsukauchi Naomasa, to hold a live press conference in one hour outside the wreckage–”
Shit. Hawks and Tsukauchi-san had to get involved, huh?
Izuku flexed his jaw, swallowing down the bitterness staining the back of his tongue. That’s how he knew it was bad.
And it was all his fault.
Forcing a strained sigh out through his teeth, Izuku slumped into the overstuffed cushions of the guest chair he had taken residence in and let his head fall back. He blinked once–then twice–as he tried to block out the skipping audio-track of the television.
With all the funding hospitals received, Izuku was surprised by the outdated amenities this particular one offered to its patients. He let his thoughts wander, idle and aimless, as he closed his eyes and focused on anything but the nasal drone of the news anchor bleating at him through the screen.
The harsh fluorescence of the overhead lights seeped through his eyelids no matter how hard he scrunched them closed.
The quiet whir of electricity traveling through the tubing was still audible despite the rhythmic, trilling beep of the vitals monitor hanging only a handful of meters to his side.
Izuku swallowed and forced himself to count each beep of the EKG, numbering them one after another to memorize the rhythm, the beat–
“–No casualties but numerous civilian injuries have been reported. Most have been minor, but many are still receiving medical attention. Commission reports also state that the heroes dispatched to the scene also incurred injuries, most minor. It was pro-hero, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight’s bravery that ensured the safety of Shinjuku’s citizens. He is currently receiving treatment for more extensive wounds at the nearest hospital–”
Izuku gritted his teeth. He lost count at one-hundred and twenty-four beeps. Swallowing down his frustration, he started over.
“–Eye witness reports from the site of the altercation all seem to say that other pro-heroes on the scene included Zero-Gravity hero, Uravity, the Air-Conditioner hero, Shoto, and All Might’s Successor, Deku–”
This time, he lost count at one-hundred and twelve.
“–Some reported seeing pro-hero Deku exhibiting belligerent and aggressive behavior. Some have even gone as far as to cite excessive force–”
Seventy-one.
“–After Deku destroyed the foundation of the train station, the roof collapsed in on Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight as he went in to take a close-combat approach against the villain–”
Thirty-seven.
“–Which begs the question, has our Symbol of Peace’s mentee already forgotten the war that left Japan destroyed–?”
Izuku’s hands were shaking by the time the false bravado of the news anchor fell silent with the quiet, static-laced hum of the television going dead. He choked, jolting upright as green eyes stretched wide.
“I dunno why you bother listening to that crap.”
The sound of his voice made Izuku’s blood run cold. With a strained breath caught in his throat, a bewildered green gaze slowly dragged its way from the blank television screen to the source of that beaten-down rasp.
Kacchan sat upright in his hospital bed, IV drip still hooked up and thick, blonde spikes in disarray. His jaw was set in a harsh scowl and red eyes were narrowed into cold, ruby chips as he shot Izuku a pointed glare.
Izuku felt his throat grow dry, tongue stuck to the bottom of his mouth. All he could do was stare at him, frozen in his seat with his hands clutching at the armrests tightly enough for his knuckles to run white.
He stared right back at him, as if he was sizing Izuku up from where he sat, small and fragile, with too many machines hooked up to his scarred body. Izuku’s stomach turned at the sight and despite the way burning red eyes kept him pinned, he tore his gaze away and swallowed the lump trapped in his throat.
When he refused to say something, refused to acknowledge him, Kacchan gave a scoff.
For a second, Izuku wasn’t sure if Kacchan would say anything else; they’d done this dance far too many times before and it always ended the same way–with one of them licking their wounds in the sterile holding cell they called a hospital while the other waited at the edge of the room, watchful and brimming with frustration.
They played this game less and less over the years. When the embers finally flickered until all that remained was ash, coal, and the countless regrets of everything Izuku could have done better, Izuku retreated from the pro-hero circuit; he had nothing left to give, nothing left to offer the world, and he sought fulfillment in other places.
Academia felt like the most natural choice–and though Izuku did grow to nurture a true love for it, something felt… off.
He and Kacchan never lost touch fully, but there were times when days would pass until Izuku realized he’d been trapped in the same, monotonous haze. He’d text Kacchan, they’d meet up for dinner or drinks, and spend the rest of their night attached at the hip like no time had passed at all.
And then Kacchan gave him a suit to bring him back on the field–and though he had wept with joy when All Might first presented it to him, old wounds reopened and bled him dry all over again.
He should have been ecstatic. Elated, even.
Instead, all Izuku felt… was dread.
The deep-rooted worry that one day, everything would fall apart all over again and slip through his fingers completely grew and grew and grew until a monster took root deep within Izuku.
He could pretend to play hero all he wanted. At the end of the day, the truth remained the same–Izuku Midoriya was never going to save anyone.
He couldn’t even save Kacchan the first time.
“You’re making that fucking face again.”
His words lacked their usual panache and it felt wrong, like a defanged viper, or a knife with a blunted blade. Despite the quiet rumblings of a muted growl following Kacchan’s words, Izuku refused to speak. He pressed his lips together into a thin line, jerking his head to the side to avoid the way carmine hues followed each tick of his muscles.
“Spit it out. I can never tell what you’re really fuckin’ thinking and I hate that.”
Izuku grimaced.
He hadn’t meant to pinch his brows, nor did he mean to curl his lips into a dark, glowering scowl, but a part of Izuku knew he should have expected Kacchan to notice the subtle shifts in his demeanor before he did, himself.
Kacchan had learned his idiosyncrasies, his strengths, his weaknesses–and he never let that knowledge go to waste. When the weight on Izuku’s shoulders grew too heavy for him to carry alone, it was Kacchan that stepped up to hold him steady.
And every single time he did, Kacchan wore the proof of it. Forever.
“Izuku,” Kacchan warned as the silence between them stretched on, snapping Izuku out of the maelstrom of emotions swirling within him. “If you don’t get whatever self-deprecating bullshit you’re on out of your damn system right the fuck now, I swear, I’m gonna get up and beat the shit out of you until you do.”
It was meant to be a threat, one that might’ve held more weight, more venom, ten years and one war ago–but now, all Izuku could do was flare his nostrils and close his eyes as he willed himself to find some semblance of composure.
The silence lingered.
Kacchan clicked his tongue and Izuku sucked on his teeth.
He didn’t need to look up to know that Kacchan was wearing a pointed scowl as he waited expectantly for Izuku to finally, finally say something, anything, that could betray the poisonous thoughts that left his mind hazy and clouded over.
It almost made Izuku laugh, cold and bitter, but he swallowed it down—just like he did every other goddamn thing in his life.
He unclasped his hands, one finger at a time, before turning them over and picking idly at a particularly large scab wedged between two of his knuckles. The television might have been turned off, but the grating drone of the news anchor’s still echoed in the crevices of his mind. The wounds were still fresh, but the blood had stopped. Purpling bruises would be darker come tomorrow.
Dragging a slow breath in through clenched teeth, Izuku opted not to answer.
Kacchan scoffed–but before he could sneer out something burning and acidic, the sound caught in his throat and turned into a wheezing cough.
The way the cough racked Kacchan’s body and echoed through the sterile room forced Izuku to clench his jaw. He could feel how every muscle in his body screamed as he tensed, scarred fingers flexing before balling into a tight fist. He squeezed his hands, letting his blunt nails dig crescent-shaped welts into his palm.
He hated the sound of Kacchan’s labored breaths.
Hated how it felt ragged and grating against his ears, how it scratched its way up Kacchan’s throat to strangle him from the inside out.
He hated that he was stuck at Kacchan’s bedside with nothing to offer but stiff muscles and scarred hands that did nothing to save him.
But most of all, Izuku hated that he failed.
Again.
His throat tightened as bile left the back of his tongue burning. Before he could strangle the words out from deep within, Kacchan beat him to the punch.
“I know you’re beating the hell outta yourself,” Kacchan started in the midst of Izuku’s silence. His voice was smaller now, almost pensive. It made Izuku’s chest ache. “I know you’re running it back in your head on loop. Over an’ over. Yer probably running simulations, too.” A scoff punctuated his words, but they taper off into a quiet whisper that lacked the belligerence and goading edge Kacchan’s always worn like a second skin.
When Izuku finally chanced a moment to let dark greens flick up to look over at the other, he found Kacchan sitting up in his hospital bed with his head turned away.
Thick blonde spikes were haphazard and mussed—the hospital pillows were always uncomfortable and itchy, gathering static with every subtle movement—and his corded shoulders sagged. The ugly teal of his paper-thin gown contrasted harshly against his skin, leaving the strong, brave Kacchan that the green-haired hero had committed to his memory looking pale and sickly, riddled with the very scars he earned in Izuku’s name.
Sick, Izuku cursed himself. You’re sick. You did this to him, you’re the reason Kacchan ends up in this goddamn hospital. If only you were better, if only you weren’t so sick. So sick in the fucking head—
Kacchan lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug before pressing on, forcing Izuku to shove the dark, ugly thoughts that never seemed to leave him back down into the crevices of his mind where they belonged.
“Bet you’re tryna figure out which moves you used coulda been changed or done differently to get a better outcome. Hell, you’re probably comin’ up empty.” Kacchan’s quiet mumble hung in the air between them.
Izuku hated that every word that left his lips was true.
His jaw ticked again. He flexed it, one side to the other, until his teeth started to grind and the muscle began to tighten. Izuku could feel the way words evaded him, slipping through his fingers until all he could do was open his mouth and close it again with nothing but silence to offer.
Kacchan’s head snapped to the side, throwing a dirty look at Izuku from over his shoulder.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
It was Izuku’s turn to scoff. With a haughty sniff, Izuku his nose with the back of his hand. As he straightened his back and lifted his head, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Green eyes were dark, clouded and muddled, as they locked onto the burning carmines sizing him up from across the room.
“If Kacchan knows, then why are you asking?” It was intentionally combative, each word leaving his lips full of prickly irritation—and though Izuku had long since learned that nettling Kacchan’s already-growing frustration was as good as waking a sleeping dragon, he couldn't help it.
Kacchan always did manage to drag out the worst in him, including his stubborn need to butt heads with him to prove a point.
The heart monitor’s trilling beeps grew rapid and haphazard, forcing Izuku to tense his shoulders and brace his hands on his knees.
Before he could get up and call for a nurse or an assistant to double-check Kacchan’s vitals, however, the blonde snarled.
”Sit your ass down, Izuku Midoriya, or I swear to fucking God.”
He was already halfway up, hovering above the frayed, cushioned seat tucked against the far side of the hospital room, when he freezes. When Izuku swept his gaze back around, he found Kacchan on his feet, one hand clasped around the thin metal pole where his IV bags hung.
His jaw was set with a scowl, lips curled to bare his teeth, and his eyes burned with fury.
Despite the thick, corded muscles of his shoulders and the curve of his biceps, Kacchan looked… small. Fragile. Breakable.
Even if the heart monitor hadn’t already betrayed him, Izuku had long since learned the ways Kacchan forced himself to mask the exhaustion and fatigue that followed his battered body everywhere he went.
He could glare at Izuku for as long as he wanted–could snarl and growl and bite like a feral dog—but that wouldn’t change the fact that his body was slowly, slowly, unraveling, to the point that one day, there wouldn’t be anything left of Kacchan, at all.
Something inside of Izuku stirred.
They stared at each other in silence for another long moment, the unspoken challenge still hanging in the air, before Izuku finally flared his nostril and sank back down into his seat with hands raised in mock defeat.
Sure enough, Kacchan’s hackles began to soothe, shoulders sagging and the burn behind his jewel-toned gaze finally simmering back down. He grunted in triumph, but the sound was half-hearted and lacked the characteristic cockiness he was known for.
“Damn right,” he scoffed. The smirk on Kacchan’s lips didn’t quite reach his eyes.
It’s a hollow victory.
“Like Kacchan gave me a choice,” Izuku mumbled with an eye-roll.
This time, Kacchan did give a snicker that held an echo of his usual arrogance.
Izuku half expected him to fire back a hot-headed retort; Kacchan was a roaring flame, burning brighter and brighter with each passing second until it felt nearly impossible to keep looking at him through the blinding glow that surrounded him. Where no one expected resistance, Kacchan burned to life.
He didn’t lose–not to anyone, and especially not to Izuku.
As Izuku settled back into his seat, he gritted his teeth and sucked in another slow breath before leveling Kacchan with an equally cutting glare.
”Kacchan should sit,” Izuku warned, ignoring the incredulous snort that the other offered in response. “The doctors said that excessive movement’s going to open up the stitches. That means you’ll need surgery—again. It’s better for Kacchan to get some—“
“Bullshit.” His voice was sharp despite the fatigue and exhaustion still hanging heavily upon his shoulders. “I’ve done this too many fuckin’ times. It won’t kill me to take a walk. Unless you’re tryna fight me.”
As the wheels of his IV pole squealed gratingly against the floor, Izuku felt his chest tighten. He curled his fingers into the arm-rests of his chair until his scarred and scabbed knuckles ran white.
“No.” Izuku growled. “I’m not going to fight you, Kacchan.” He hated how the sound of his voice felt dark and foreign to his own ears. “It wouldn’t be fair. When Kacchan is healed properly, then maybe—“
”Hah? You think you’re so much fuckin’ better than me, huh? Think I wouldn’t be able to kick your ass now just ‘cause I got a few more stitches in me? Bullshit!”
Kacchan snaps so suddenly that Izuku’s stunned, green eyes widening as his mouth falls open wordlessly. The blonde rounds on one bare foot to shoot him a borderline-murderous glare, lips curling back to sneer at him with all of his teeth. Before Izuku can stutter through a rebuttal, Kacchan snaps his clenched jaw and growls.
”Think you’re so damn cool, that you’re stronger than fuckin’ everyone. Think I can’t handle my goddamn self—ain’t that it?” His IV pole gave a high-pitched squeal of protest as Kacchan dragged it across the floor, shoulders squared under the paper-thin gown hanging off of his body and his simmering anger threatening to boil over completely. “Ain’t that exactly why your ass is here? To gloat? To remind me how much fuckin’ better than me you are?”
He didn’t realize how Kacchan was dragging his body closer and closer, one painful step at a time, until he was only an arm’s reach away.
He also didn’t realize he was on his feet until a thick, scarred hand was clasped tightly around one of Kacchan’s wrists, flexing into an unforgiving grip.
Izuku knew Kacchan was talking mean on purpose. He knew Kacchan was trying to get a rise out of him, a reaction—something, anything–to push Izuku far enough over the edge to finally unleash the beast inside of him.
He refused, swallowing thickly despite the way Kacchan sneered and glowered down at him.
”Stop it, Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice dropped to a low, warning mumble. He squeezed at his wrist, ignoring the way the blonde hissed and tensed beneath his touch. A part of him expected Kacchan to lash out and throw the first punch, but as green eyes swept over him, he noticed the way his teeth clenched together as Izuku’s fingers dug into the tender spot at the base of his palm. “You know that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why?” Kacchan’s voice splintered and the last shred of self-control Izuku had left within him finally unraveled. “Why are you here? You— you finally came out on the field and it goes horribly wrong and all you’re fucking doing is– is sitting there in silence! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you moping and pretending like nothing’s fucking wrong. You think you’re so smart, but you can’t fucking trick me! You never talk about it. Not this time, not last time, not the time before—hell, not even after the fucking war—“
The thread holding his self-restraint together began to fray.
”Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice grew hoarse, throat tightening. Brows furrowed as green eyes flicked to cast Kacchan a silent, pleading look. “Don’t.”
Kacchan ignored him, breaths shuddering as his ruby gaze locked onto the dark, swirling depths of Izuku’s own.
“All you do is— is think. You think and think and think—but you never fuckin’ say what you’re thinking about! You might have everyone else and their goddamn mothers fooled, but you ain’t gettin’ past me, Izuku. After everything—after fucking everything—you think I don’t fucking know what you’re doing?”
Izuku’s stomach clenched as he swallowed down the bile beginning to burn at the back of his throat. Green eyes smoldered as adrenaline spiked through his system, desperation flooding his veins as he begged, pleaded Kacchan to let sleeping beasts lie with his eyes alone.
But Kacchan never backed down from a challenge–especially when it was against him.
With a flex of the wrist still clasped in Izuku’s grip, Kacchan dropped his voice to a low growl and gritted out, “you aren’t gonna be able to run away from me forever, Izuku.”
Izuku dropped his hand like he had been burned.
He flared his nostrils and clenched his jaw to bite back the startled noise caught in his throat. Izuku jerked away, halfway stumbling until the back of his legs bumped against the worn edge of his chair.
Izuku’s throat felt dry and cracked as he forced himself to say, “I’m not running away.”
The lie felt hollow to even his own ears and the short, cold laugh Kacchan barked out in response only made his insides squeeze even tighter.
“Yes the fuck you are. Every goddamn time you lose your fuckin’ cool out on the field, you ice out the entire fuckin’ world! All Might’s always been like that–he’s never let anyone help him. It’s why he had One For All–and why he gave it to you.”
A finger jabbed into the center of his chest, digging into his sternum hard enough to force Izuku to hiss through his teeth. Carmine hues flashed dangerously under the glow of the harsh, fluorescent lights flickering overhead.
“Because you’re just like him. It’s why you ran away before the war. And why you compensated for the embers by grinding yourself half to fuckin’ death before we even finished our first gig out of school.”
Izuku flinched. “Kacchan…”
“You didn’t even tell me yourself, dammit!” Kacchan’s snarl ticked up an octave, the pain creeping through his voice leaving the last syllable of his words splintering. Something flashed in the depths of his red eyes and Izuku felt nausea boil through him the moment he recognized what it was–betrayal.
Kacchan swallowed thickly, but Izuku knew it was in vain; when he let his emotions bubble to the surface, Kacchan was a bleeding heart.
It tore Izuku’s insides apart.
“I found out through a fucking e-mail. One sent out by Hawks to announce to all the rookies operating under the Commission that fuckin’ Pro-Hero Deku was stepping down.”
His scoff was harsh and jaded. The knot of guilt tightening in the pit of Izuku’s stomach began to burn, but before he could open his mouth to protest, Kacchan cut him off with another sneer.
“You dodged my calls for days!”
Because I didn’t know how to tell you, Izuku wanted to say. Because saying goodbye to the dream we built together was humiliating–
“And when you finally picked up the goddamn phone, you told me you were takin’ a fuckin’ interview at U.A.” The finger digging into the center of his ribs pulled back, but Izuku didn’t have a chance to drag a breath into his burning lung before that very hand flexed to fist tightly into the front of his shirt. Kacchan gave him a harsh jerk in an attempt to hoist him closer. He was still too exhausted, too fatigued to put weight behind it, but Izuku still had to bite back a strained grunt. “And just like that, you were done with bein’ a hero. I thought you’d say something about it, so I fuckin’ waited–but you never did.”
Izuku blinked.
Kacchan’s voice dropped suddenly, falling into a quiet, pained whisper that left his lips with a shuddering breath. Red eyes burned into him, pale brows pinched, and his lips trembling despite the way Kacchan was still baring his teeth. Just beneath the thin veneer of rage Kacchan hid behind was someone hurting.
Hurting–because of him.
“The suit– I thought that goddamn suit would remind you who the fuck you are–who you actually are! ‘Cause the Izuku Midoriya I knew would never, ever give up his dream of becoming a hero, just like All Might. So what the hell? Why don’t you ever fuckin’ speak up? You wanna help everyone, but you never wanna fuckin’ help yourself–so you run. You fuckin’ run like a coward!”
The way Kacchan spat out the word coward left Izuku’s face stinging, like he’d been slapped.
“And then,” the blonde continued, voice finally breaking into that quiet, vulnerable voice Izuku hadn’t heard since Ground Beta all those years ago, “just when I think maybe, just fuckin’ maybe, I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did… you do something so incredibly selfless that you remind all fucking over again just who the real hero has always been.”
Kacchan’s nostrils flared before he said something that broke the last of Izuku’s resolve.
“So what’s the fuckin’ truth? Where’s the Izuku Midoriya I knew? ‘Cause I know he’s still in there somewhere. And you better give him the fuck back.”
Izuku’s head felt murky. His blood ran cold and as one of the bulbs overhead flickered with a dull hum of electricity, Izuku felt himself plunge into the darkness. For just a split second, he was fifteen again with a bruised body and shattered bones. Rage consumed him, hotter than the blue flames scorching the earth behind him. His throat was hoarse and his tongue still tasted of blood as he shouted–
Give him back to me.
He choked.
A familiar voice, one Izuku hadn’t heard since the throes of the war, whispered frantically through the muddled haze clouding his mind.
Control your heart. Izuku’s teeth clenched together so tightly he could hear his mandible pop before he felt the dull ache radiating through his jaw. The hand Kacchan fisted through his shirt twisted and he felt his chest stutter. Control your fucking heart, Izuku Midoriya.
The sound of Izuku’s ragged breaths filled the air along with the shrill beeping of the screen charting Kacchan’s vitals. Red eyes searched his expression desperately for something, anything to answer the question left unanswered.
“Izuku…” Kacchan warned. “Izuku, I swear, if you don’t fucking say something, you need to get the hell out of my fucking hospital r–”
His body always did move on its own when it came to Kacchan.
The fraying thread of Izuku’s self restraint had finally snapped, and with it, scarred hands flashed out to grab Kacchan by the shoulders. An inelegant grunt was all he could manage as his breaths quickened and blood pounded in his ears. Izuku knew he should be careful, that the stitches holding his wounds closed were still tender, but his selfishness was too powerful for him to fight.
He yanked Kacchan forward, ignoring the way the blonde choked over a strained yelp.
Before he could stop himself, Izuku found his mouth slotted with Kacchan’s own. It was hasty and uncoordinated, their teeth clanking together and their strangled groans catching against the other’s, but it was still intoxicating.
The heat of Kacchan’s lips pressed to his own, the way Kacchan’s breath puffed against into his parted mouth as he fought back a gasp… it made Izuku’s grip over Kacchan’s shoulders tighten. Izuku pulled him closer, taking one step forward until the breadth of his wide form was enough to walk Kacchan back. The wheels of his IV pole creaked as the blonde shuddered in response, bare feet barely managing to keep from stumbling.
Izuku tilted his head, breaking the kiss long enough to catch his breath. There was so much he wanted to say, so many words he was still struggling to find–but right then, with his heart pounding in his chest and warmth flooding through him, Izuku knew what he wanted. He groaned, leaning down to chase Kacchan’s mouth with his own when–
“Get– the fuck off– of me, dammit!”
“Huh–? Oof!”
Izuku damn near choked on his tongue as Kacchan gave him a harsh shove with an ill-tempered growl. He stumbled back a half step before catching himself, one hand lifted to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand. He blinked rapidly before stuttering out something unintelligible.
Green eyes were wide with how startled Izuku was by his own actions. The tips of scarred fingertips brushed over his lips. They still felt warm and his skin buzzed just under the surface. Izuku felt the way his heart flipped in his chest. He was speechless, mouth falling agape, and the moment his gaze snapped to finally look over at the other, he felt his throat tighten.
The high planes of Kacchan’s pale cheeks were dusted with the softest shade of pink. Even under the harsh fluorescence of the hospital lights, Izuku could trace the way it bloomed across the bridge of his nose and dipped beneath the raised outline of the scar beneath his eye. Blonde brows were pinched, a small crease forming against his forehead, and his lips twitched in a scowl that bordered on petulant. His red eyes had dropped to burn holes into the ground, as if the sterile tiling had personally affronted him.
It felt foreign, seeing Kacchan like this.
Vulnerable. Shy. Flustered.
Izuku felt his heart flip. He looked… small.
A far cry from the ferocious beast that could splinter the earth with one flex of his wrist.
Kacchan, stripped of the false bravado of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, was always Izuku’s greatest weakness. When his lower lip trembled and the beautiful ruby of his irises grew glassy with the tears he’d never dare to let anyone else see, Kacchan could ask for Izuku’s heart and he’d tear it out of his own chest to place it in his palms.
The moment the first of his tears clung to pale lower lashes, Izuku felt his chest ache and his knees damn near buckle.
“Fuck you.” Kacchan wheezed. Izuku panicked as the blonde lifted a hand to angrily swipe at one eye. His hoarse whisper wavered and Izuku felt it like a punch to the gut. “You– you don’t get to fuckin’ do that. You don’t get to fuckin’ kiss me when you can’t even fucking talk to me!”
Oh.
Oh.
“Kacchan, I– I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that–”
“Like hell!” Kacchan blurted out, voice rising with frustration all over again. He bared his teeth with a hiss that still shook despite the way he tensed all of his muscles. “You shouldn’t have! You think you can just– fucking– after all this fucking time– augh, fuck you, Izuku! I’m so sick of all your– your mixed fucking signals–”
“I’m sorry, for everything.”
Kacchan’s words died on his lips as he turned on his heel, eyes wide, to find Izuku bowing at the waist with his arms straight at his side. Green eyes were shut tight and his lip trembled as he dragged one shaking breath after another. His voice was tight as he continued, but Izuku refused to allow himself to falter.
“I’m sorry for shutting you out. I–I was scared. And angry… not at you. At– at myself.” Izuku didn’t wait for Kacchan to finish, hands curling into fists at his sides. He could still feel the way his heart pounded erratically in his chest, sweat beading at his brow, but he knew he couldn’t backtrack now. “I… talked about being a hero that saved everyone… and I couldn’t even do that when the world needed me the most. Shiga–” He choked over the name. “Tenko… died because I failed him. Heroes died in the line of fire. Others, like Aizawa-sensei and Mirko, lost limbs. And you.” Izuku’s voice finally fractured, thick and heavy with the maelstrom of emotions raging within him. “You, Kacchan. For a long time, I felt like… I was the one that killed you…”
Kacchan made a noise caught somewhere between a choked-up sob and a half-growl of warning.
“‘Zuku.”
Izuku hadn’t heard that nickname in years.
“Stop it. Fuckin’-- stop, I did what I thought I had to do back then and today, too–”
“I know!” Izuku snapped. He swallowed down the growl that left his throat itching and pressed on. “I know… but I blamed myself and I… I punished myself for it. I thought, if I didn’t use what I had left of One For All at its full capacity, then what did I get this quirk for? I didn’t do anything good. All I did was prove that I could never be a hero like All Might. And how… how could I make Kacchan, who’s always been so strong, hold himself back to be by my side? I wasn’t worthy of being a hero anymore… and I was too embarrassed and spineless to admit that to you. Because I’m still weak.”
He closed his eyes and forced himself to draw in a slow, steadying breath. When Izuku parted his lips to speak, his voice was low and pensive as he murmured, “Kacchan once said an apology couldn’t make up for what’s already been done, but I knew he was wrong. He didn’t need to make up for anything at all. His words were so sincere. They were what brought me home and that was enough.”
Teeth worried into a lower lip, each breath labored and shuddering with every inhale he dragged into his burning chest. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before he could stop them and as his shoulders trembled, Izuku bowed even lower.
“I hope Kacchan knows that I am being sincere, too. I am… so sorry.”
Control your heart, they said.
How could he control something that had always belonged to Kacchan in the first place?
Izuku felt his breaths stagger as silence greeted his words.
As he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the karmic retribution that no doubt awaited him, he felt his stomach tighten all over again.
Kacchan was motionless before him–but before green eyes could crack open to chance a hesitant glance up at the blonde, a hand flashed out and grabbed a fistful of his curls.
Izuku choked out a startled noise as Kacchan dragged his head back up with a slew of curses on his lips.
Izuku’s eyes flew open, wide as saucers, before he stuttered inelegantly.
He didn’t even get a chance to steady himself on his feet when Kacchan swooped down and caught his mouth with his own in a heated kiss without warning.
His lips were just as warm and just as plush against Izuku’s as they were earlier, but this time, there was no awkward clanking of their teeth nor was there a frenzy of choked-up gasps puffing in the air between them.
This time, the kiss was soft, steady–intentional.
The green-haired hero tensed at first, shoulders rigid and hackles rising.
His eyes were wide and they crossed slightly as he looked on in stunned shock, studying the way pale lashes curled against pink-dusted cheeks, how the slope of Kacchan’s nose was perfectly straight… and as the weight behind the kiss stayed constant and ever-present, Izuku found himself moaning softly in relief.
Leaning into it, Izuku tilted his head and let one shaking hand lift to find the back of Kacchan’s head. He cradled it against the breadth of a wide palm, holding him close as his calloused fingers threaded through thick blonde spikes.
“Kacchan–” he gasped softly into the kiss, his own lashes fluttering as he allowed himself to melt into the sensation. Warmth blossomed in his chest, blooming through his insides until the felt a blissful haze settle over him. His skin buzzed, and he couldn’t help the shuddering gasp he puffed out into Kacchan’s mouth.
The blonde hissed out a strained moan of his own in response, shifting closer.
“Shut up,” he finally mumbled through shaky breaths. Kacchan let his teeth graze across Izuku’s chapped lower lip. “You’ve said enough. So just shut up.”
Izuku felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter the moment Kacchan lifted his hands to hold him steady.
Kacchan’s fingers were long and tapered, petal-soft as the pads of his fingertips moved to cup the curve of Izuku’s jaw. It only fueled the heat thrumming through the center of Izuku’s core, revitalizing him and pulling another trembling groan to the surface.
“I thought–” Izuku grunted gracelessly in between breathless pecks and drawn-out swipes of their tongues on one another’s lips, “Kacchan wanted me– to get off of him…”
Kacchan broke the kiss with a scoff, but he didn’t pull back entirely. He pressed his lips to the corner of Izuku’s mouth before mumbling, “I did.” He smudged another messy kiss to the opposite side. “‘Cause you weren’t listening to me…” A quiet groan caught in Kacchan’s throat before he slid one of his hands back to dance across the nape of Izuku’s neck.
Izuku shuddered, goosebumps leaving his hair standing on end.
“But you,” Kacchan pressed on, warm breath washing across his freckles as he nuzzled his way higher along the curves of Izuku’s face, “were always such a fuckin’ crybaby…” He kissed a dried trail of salt streaking his cheek.
Izuku croaked out a horse laugh and gave blonde locks a small, experimental pull. “Kacchan’s a crybaby, too…”
Before he could protest, Izuku closed the fraction of space between their mouths once more.
Kacchan grew lax and, without thinking, Izuku looped a thick arm around his midsection. He savored the way the blonde’s breath caught in his throat with a stuttering gasp and with a groan of his own, he flexed until Kacchan’s narrow hips slid into the crook of his elbow.
He fit right into place–like he was made to be there. Made to be in Izuku’s arms. Made to be so close that he could feel the heat of Kacchan’s body through the thin material of his hospital gown.
Kacchan must have felt it, too; the shiver that worked its way up the blonde’s spine left him shuddering against the solid expanse of Izuku’s chest. With the slightest arch to his back, Kacchan exhaled a breath of a moan against Izuku’s mouth.
The feeling of it was enough to leave Izuku’s head spinning and addled by a thick haze. His eyes rolled back as he exhaled a low, throaty groan into Kacchan’s mouth in response. One hand reached around to paw at the small of his back, clumsy and awkward.
Kacchan tensed under the heavy warmth of Izuku’s palm pressing into the spot where his waist met his hips. A full-body shudder worked its way through him and as Izuku’s tongue passed over Kacchan’s lower lip, the green-haired hero was rewarded with the sound of a breathless gasp.
Tilting his head, Kacchan parted his mouth and melted at the warm, wet feeling of Izuku’s tongue meeting his own.
Izuku had always been selfish–and it was always ten times worse when it came to Kacchan. This moment was no exception and the moment he first got a taste of the inside of Kacchan’s mouth, Izuku knew he’d never forget it. He choked on a gasp before digging his fingers into the base of Kacchan’s spine, rough fingers wedging under the open back of it to touch bare skin.
“Izuku–” Kacchan choked out, voice strangled and breathless as the hand at the nape of his neck fisted whatever curls he could reach. He gasped, red eyes fluttering as he clenched his teeth to stifle a soft, trembling moan. “Izuku, fuck– nngh!”
Before Kacchan could complete whatever thought was falling apart at the tip of his tongue, Izuku kissed into his open mouth with everything he had in him.
It was messy and awkward, a breathless flurry of gasped out ‘Zuku’s and Kacchan’s filling the air.
Izuku wasn’t sure if they had grown lost in one another for mere moments or for an eternity, but when the monitor logging Kacchan’s vitals began to trill suddenly, they broke away with their chests rising and falling with every gasping breath they took.
Izuku whipped his head around and the moment wild green eyes took note of the numbers flashing dangerously on the digital screen, his ears grew hot with embarrassment.
Izuku yelped and stumbled three steps back in his haste as he released Kacchan’s waist. The blonde bit out a hiss of protest as he wheeled back, too, hand still clutching the thin metal pole housing his IV.
“Y-your heart!” The rhythmic spikes graphing Kacchan’s heart rate had grown erratic, no doubt triggering a safety mechanism. The small, red bulb screwed into the wall at Kacchan’s bedside glowed knowingly–no doubt notifying the nurses of the sudden anomaly. “Oh, no– I– I’m so sorry! You should be resting, not– not ki–” Just saying the word kissing made Izuku’s stomach clench with mortification. He choked before stuttering on, “Oh, crap, I can’t believe this– I made Kacchan’s heart get overworked! I’m so stupid–”
“Oi,” Kacchan growled and grabbed Izuku’s wrist, giving it a tight squeeze. With one sharp pull, he tugged the green-haired hero back until Izuku tore his anxious green gaze away from the screen to meet Kacchan’s gaze, instead.
“It’s fine,” Kacchan mumbled, brows pinched and voice fierce despite how quiet he was. His eyes flashed and he looked away for only a moment, biting the inside of his cheek in consideration before clearing his throat. “I, uh… just got a little… excited…” Tongue passed over the tapered points of his canines as he avoided the bewildered way Izuku was staring at him.
“It happens sometimes. ‘S not a big deal, or anything.” Kacchan said it haughtily, but the way red eyes darted away to shift this way and that betrayed him.
The soft, pink flush blooming over the high planes of his cheekbones only darkened and Izuku felt his heart squeeze all over again.
How did he never realize just how innocent Kacchan looked when he let his guard down?
It made Izuku want to reach forward, to gather him up in his hand and bring him close until he learned Kacchan–inside and out–from scratch. Until he had memorized every secret facet of himself that Kacchan had kept hidden away for so long.
Kacchan flexed his grip on the IV pole and after releasing Izuku’s wrist, he used his free hand to scratch the back of his head. Clearing his throat, he gave a small sniff and muttered, “and, uh, you don’t gotta apologize for kissin’ me back, or whatever…”
“Oh,” Izuku said dumbly. He blinked. Then, Kacchan’s words finally sank in. His eyes widened all over again and his heart jackhammered. As his jaw fell slack, Izuku’s mouth flapped uselessly until all he could manage out was another, less elegant, “... oh!”
Izuku kicked himself for letting his voice crack… again.
“Um–okay.” Izuku began stiffly. He swallowed and scratched at the scar on his cheek. “Uhh. Good… yeah, good.” Izuku sounded far too awkward, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, but he couldn’t help it. Heat flooded his cheeks and he was acutely aware of how his heart somersaulted in his chest. It made him suck on his teeth and wiggle his fingers at his side. Forcing himself to inject one last surge of confidence into his system, he cleared his throat and tried to salvage some form of recovery.
“That was, um. That was… nice.”
A small, lingering part of him could still envision the ghost of Kudou’s visage rolling his eyes in the deepest crevices of his mind for saying something so lame. It made his cheek burn even hotter.
Thankfully, Kacchan seemed just as awkward and preoccupied as he was.
He curled in on himself the slightest bit, arms hugging around his midsection. Kacchan angled his body away from Izuku and towards the hospital bed he was supposed to be resting in.
Clearing his throat, Kacchan refused to make eye contact and mumbled, “yeah, sure, whatever.” He even tried to scoff, but it lacked its usual bravado, forcing it to fall flat and unconvincing.
Izuku’s skin began to itch at the silence that followed but before he could think of an excuse to turn and run far, far away from the uncomfortable tension that was beginning to thicken the air, Kacchan started again.
Drawing in a slow inhale to steady his fraying nerves, Kacchan opened his mouth and grumbled, “You’re a shit kisser, by the way. Use way too much fuckin’ teeth.”
Izuku should’ve seen that one coming.
His shoulders sagged with a groan, the confidence that had pulsed through Izuku only moments earlier deflating in its entirety. Lifting one hand, Izuku rubbed his face and sucked on his teeth. He didn’t bother masking the low, grumbling edge to his words.
“What, like Kacchan has the kissing experience to compare?” Izuku’s drawl was bone-dry and heavy with exhaustion. “Kacchan’s not the best kisser himself, anyway… Bites too much…”
He didn’t mean it–how could he? The moment their lips pressed to one another, it was pure bliss that had enveloped him. It was messy and uncoordinated, but it held meaning. It sparked something deep and visceral and no matter how much time passed, Izuku was sure he’d never forget how addictive it felt to have Kacchan’s mouth on his.
But just like Kacchan couldn’t back down from a challenge, Izuku was hard-pressed to let the blonde get the final word.
“Hah?!” His sneer of protest was so predictable that Izuku had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, fuck off, nerd! I’m a great fucking kisser!”
“Says who? Kacchan?”
“A buncha people, nerd!”
Izuku always did fall into bad habits when he and Kacchan were left alone long enough to let their competitive natures begin to butt heads. Frustration flared in his chest and as Izuku furrowed his brows and twisted his lips in a scowl, he blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.
“Then prove it.”
It was Kacchan’s turn to choke. Watching Kacchan flounder was such a rare occurrence that whenever it did happen, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
“Wh– huh?!” Kacchan sputtered, red eyes wide and wild. “You tryna proposition me?!”
The blush blooming across his face spread to the tip of his ears, barely hidden behind his mane of thick blonde spikes, and the way Kacchan tore his gaze away with an affronted scoff, Izuku couldn’t help but think he looked… like innocent. Like Izuku had done something to compromise his virtue.
Izuku wanted the floor to open up beneath him.
The accusatory way Kacchan looked at him and the scowl that looked far more like a pout tugging at his lips made Izuku’s knees weak.
He hadn’t meant it that way, hadn’t meant to come across like he was attempting to pressure anything out of Kacchan.
He’d never, ever let himself be so selfish after everything they had been through.
The guilt washed over him and he choked and stuttered as he reached towards him with one hand.
“What? No!” Izuku’s voice lifted two octaves too high before cracking all together, panic leaving his eyes wide. He couldn’t help the way he fidgeted his fingers as he took a shuffling step forward. “I– I’d never proposition Kacchan! That’s– that’s wrong and I would never–”
Kacchan must have been feeling merciful.
He cut Izuku’s apologetic ramblings off with a taunting scoff before he could devolve into a neverending recitation of one apology after another.
“Thought so, nerd.” Kacchan countered, having recovered a shred of his composure to give a haughty sniff.
“Besides…” He tore his gaze away from Izuku’s, turning on his heel as he sauntered back to the edge of his bed. “If you wanna find out, you’re gonna have to work for it.”
The familiar air of stubbornness hardening the edges of Kacchan’s quiet rasp was like music to his ears. It made Izuku’s heart kickstart back to life, thumping unevenly in his chest, and the knots of tension held in Izuku’s muscles begin to finally unravel. He blinked in surprise, biting at the inside of his cheek as a breath caught in his throat.
“Work… for it?” Izuku couldn’t help the soft air of hope that lifted the end of his words.
Kacchan exhaled a tired-sounding groan as he slowly sank down into the stiff material of the hospital bed’s mattress. He braced one hand–the good one–on his knee while the scarred and gnarled one clasped at his IV. Tilting his head, Kacchan peered up at him. He didn’t answer at first, lips pressed together into a thin line as he studied Izuku with a scrutinizing gaze.
Izuku could hear the pump of his blood coursing through his veins as it pounded in his ear. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Kacchan finally heaved a sigh.
“Yeah, nerd. You can start by being fucking honest with me.” His voice darkened as he cut Izuku a knowing look. “No more bottling those bullshit, self-deprecating thoughts up.”
Izuku felt the tears a second too late; one rolled down his cheek and when he opened his mouth to speak, his words wavered.
“I promise,” he whispered, voice small but sincere. “No more bottling up my feelings.”
No more controlling my heart.
Not when it belonged to Kacchan–and for Kacchan, Izuku would do anything.
“The second thing you can do,” Kacchan pressed, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts, “is make an effort to actually follow your dreams. Your real ones. No matter what you think about yourself.”
He licked his teeth and pinched his brows–like he was hesitating. Kacchan drew in a small breath and jerked his gaze away in favor of studying a fraying thread at the hem of his gown.
“You treat everyone like they’re so damn special, you forget that you are, too. You’re a hero, dammit.” Another trembling breath followed before Kacchan closed his eyes and confessed, “you’re my fuckin’ hero. So act like it.”
Izuku felt his throat constrict and pressure building behind his eyes.
You’re my fuckin’ hero.
He was Kacchan’s hero.
After everything–through a childhood spent chasing after him, a convoluted web of raging teenage hormones, and a war–Kacchan saw a hero within him.
“I–” Izuku didn’t trust his voice, words tapering off into a choked-up sob as trembling hands balled into fists at his side. “Kacchan, I… I don’t know what to say. How? How– the suit is great, but you saw me today. I– lost control again. And– not only that. I lost control because I was afraid you were hurt–and all that did was make it worse!” The guilt hung so heavily over his words that his voice broke altogether, fracturing beneath its weight. Izuku swallowed thickly before hanging his head and croaking out, “I can barely handle it now. How could I ever prove that I can be a real hero?”
Without missing a beat, Kacchan said: “By being my hero partner.”
His words held so much finality that it knocked the breath out of Izuku’s chest.
As Kacchan drew in a sharp breath and squared his jaw, he leveled Izuku with an unrelenting look.
“If you’re with me, we can make it work. When we’re together, we’re stronger. Win to save…”
“... And save to win.” Izuku’s heart ached as All Might’s voice echoed those very words in his head.
Kacchan gave a slow nod. “Isn’t that what All Might told us?”
Izuku’s throat was too tight for him to speak. All he could do was bob his head in a frantic nod, biting his tongue in an attempt at choking back the sob threatening to crawl its way up his throat.
“I trust that old geezer.” Kacchan’s voice grew tender. “Even if he’ll throw himself to the goddamn wolves just to make a point…” His words were pointed, but the gentle cadence of Kacchan’s words betrayed a fondness for the hero he and Izuku had both looked up to.
Kacchan curled his hands into fists in his lap and as he licked his teeth, he searched Izuku’s expression.
“So… join me. Full-time.” As soon as the words left his lips, though, Kacchan blinked. He looked surprised at himself before he cleared his throat and glanced away again. When he started again, he spoke slower–like he was picking and choosing his words carefully.
“Er–what I mean is… You can still teach, but maybe instead of doin’ it the whole semester, you could substitute, or some shit. Or be an adjunct professor. I know you love those fruckin’ brats,” Kacchan snorted, tonguing the inside of his cheek to mask the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “But wanting to influence the new generation, or whatever, doesn’t mean you can’t still be a hero.”
Kacchan paused long enough to take a quiet, shuddering breath–as if to brace himself for Izuku’s reaction. His fingers twitched and that was when Izuku realized that Kacchan’s corded shoulders were trembling.
He was nervous. The realization made Izuku’s chest pang. Oh, how kind Kacchan could be–and how few truly knew how nervous he could be after all the layers were peeled back.
Pursing his lips and furrowing his brows, Izuku fell silent as he allowed the reality of Kacchan’s words to sink in. “Join… you?” He whispered the words dubiously, like he still couldn’t quite believe them. The crease forming between his brows deepened as he considered the gravity of what the offer presented to him.
When he parted his lips to speak again, he still sounded incredulous. Flabbergasted.
“But… Kacchan– join your agency as your partner? As in… we’d be a duo?” Izuku blinked owlishly at him.
Kacchan squared his jaw and gave a loud sniff.
“Obviously.” The subtle prickliness returned–which Izuku knew meant he was feeling put on the spot–feeling vulnerable. His heart soared at the thought that Kacchan was so sensitive to whatever answer Izuku gave him. Kacchan scratched awkwardly at the scar spanning his cheek to busy his hands. “The press would love it and we’d attract a ton of fuckin’ sidekicks…”
“But– the paperwork for that can take months! Not only that, the Commission is really picky about notarizing duos to keep heroes from creating a branding market…”
Izuku remembered the presentation Hawks had offered during the annual debrief of the nation’s top heroes; it had been mind numbing, but more than that, it felt borderline ironic to watch the Hero Celebrity industry’s former playboy give a schpiel on how “trademarking for clout” (which were the actual words written in the full report) was “unethical conduct.”
He bit the inside of his cheek. “We’d have to undergo a bunch of inspections, take extra exams, hire an entire legal team to draft waivers…” Anxiety began to well up within him at the very thought. The nausea returned and Izuku had no choice but to swallow it down.
Before his mind could spiral, though, Kacchan cleared his throat and interrupted Izuku’s train of thought.
“It’s already done.”
He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that Izuku had to double-take.
“... Huh?”
“I said,” Kacchan continued, annoyance rising in his exasperated voice, “that it’s already done.”
Izuku blinked dumbly.
Hissing out a frustrated sigh through clenched teeth, Kacchan grumbled. He swallowed thickly and tongued at the inside of his cheek for a moment before he finally cleared his throat to clarify.
“I… started the paperwork for it last year. I talked to Hawks about it myself and he decided to give us the benefit of the doubt…” Kacchan gave a half-hearted shrug. “I thought that… if I got everything ready, I’d have the time to actually convince you to join by the time all the paperwork was squared away.”
Red eyes were careful as they studied Izuku from across the hospital room. His jaw flexed this way and that and his body stiffened–like he was holding his breath as he waited for Izuku to understand the gravity of his implication.
“I just… never had the chance to because–”
“I was so distant.”
Izuku finished Kacchan’s sentence for him, voice growing small and pained. His shoulders sagged all over again as he dug his nails into his palms.
He kept Kacchan–and everyone else, for that matter–at arm’s length for so many reasons that it no longer made sense. He thought that throwing himself into a world so different from the one that housed his dream would allow him to discover a new passion.
Izuku didn’t want to be a hero when he so clearly failed when the world needed him most… but the more he watched Kacchan and the others grow into their full potential, the more the wound on his heart festered.
It was lonely. So, so lonely… but he thought it was the right choice.
The only choice.
And all throughout that self-inflicted punishment, Kacchan not only built him a suit to give him the opportunity to be a hero, but also created a pocket in his world just for Izuku to grow as a hero, too. A space at his side, where they fought as equals to surpass one another and carry the legacy that All Might had passed onto them, once upon a time.
Kacchan leaned his elbows on his knees and hunched his shoulders. With his head hanging, he puffed out a slow, shuddering breath.
“Look,” he mumbled. “I know… it’s a lot. I know you probably gotta make a lot of arrangements with Nezu, first. And work on a lesson plan, or whatever. You don’t have to answer me now, but just think about–”
“Yes.”
Kacchan's head snapped up, red eyes wide. “Wait–what?”
“I said yes.” Izuku didn’t care that his voice shook anymore, heavy and thick with the raw emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long. “Yes, I’ll be your hero partner. I… I can’t think of anything that I want more.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and as Izuku’s lower lip trembled, he offered Kacchan a wobbling smile.
As Izuku took a hesitant step forward, one hand outstretched, his voice softened.
“I… promised you, didn’t I?”
Kacchan’s stunned silence broke off with a soft gasp of surprise as his gaze dropped from Izuku’s face down to the scarred hand offered to him. He hesitated, stuttering over something unintelligible. His fingers twitched and his breath caught in his throat, but when carmine hues finally flickered to peer back up at him, Izuku felt his heart swell.
His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. With a small, crooked smile of his own, Kacchan unclasped the hand gripping his IV pole to reach towards him.
“Yeah,” Kacchan whispered. “You did promise. For the rest of our lives.”
The delicate slope of Kacchan’s palm fit perfectly against the thick, gnarled expanse of Izuku’s own. Long, tapered digits laced through rough knuckles and scarred fingertips. Kacchan hesitated for only a moment before he gave Izuku’s hand a small squeeze and pull.
Izuku didn’t bother masking the muted chuckle he exhaled under his breath as he stumbled closer, squeezing Kacchan’s hand in return.
“For the rest of our lives,” he echoed, voice colored with the warmth of his adoration.
“Damn right, Izuku.”
He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing Kacchan say his name.
Exhaling a quiet grunt as Kacchan guides him into plopping down on the bed at his side, Izuku finally allowed the last dregs of his frustration to melt away. As he nestled in at the blonde’s side, Izuku shifted closer–just enough for their shoulders and the outsides of their thighs to touch.
When Kacchan didn’t jerk away, Izuku smiled. With one hand carding through his mane of thick green curls, the young hero couldn’t help but bask in the glow of Kacchan’s familiar presence.
Izuku sighed before mumbling the last lingering thought lurking at the back of his mind.
“Still think I’m a better kisser than Kacchan, though…”
“Hah?! Too fuckin’ soon, asshole! You don’t get to even try and see if I’m a better kisser or not until after you’ve signed the seventy-four contracts waiting in my office!”
“Ouch, Kacchan’s punishing me with admin duty already…”
“You are so full of it!”