Work Text:
“Deku-sensei!”
At the sound of his name, Izuku’s head jerked up from his laptop, finger clicking off the video he had been watching and onto the gradebook out of instinct. He quickly lowered the screen when he saw two of his students standing at the door of the teacher’s office. He hoped the guise of student privacy seemed natural, and he was grateful that he had his laptop angled away from the door.
He gestured them over, with his soft professional smile, as if he wasn’t just drooling over a news clip. “Yanagi-san, Amachi-san, how can I help you two?”
He ran through a mental list as to why they were coming to find him. With the school year only a couple months from ending, he had grown familiar with the two girls. Yanagi had a body modification quirk where she could transform any part of her body into a blade. She had struggled a little with the safety of her classmates at the beginning of hero training, too unfamiliar with using her quirk around a team. Izuku had spent extra time to ensure that she was comfortable between offensive, defensive, and protective positions. She quickly overcame her struggles, and she even found her classmate, Amachi, had a compatible quirk. Amachi had the flexibility of a willow. She could extend and stretch her limbs into unnatural angles, a quirk that could benefit in long range, short range, and evasive maneuvers. She could avoid Yanagi’s accidental friendly fire–or friendly slashes.
With the two of them as friends, they didn’t usually come to Izuku needing extra assistance.
“Can we get an off campus request form?” Amachi asked.
Izuku felt reassured that they weren’t in need of dire help. He turned his chair to the drawers of his desk and pulled the second from the top open. He didn’t even blink when he brushed away the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight photocard to pull two sheets of paper. He turned back with one pointed at each girl for them to take. “Here you two go.”
He noticed that Yanagi’s cheeks were a little pink, and she giggled awkwardly. “Um, Deku-sensei, are you a fan of Dynamight?” She ducked her head to fill out the form.
Amachi also hid her face, clearing her throat loudly. “You sure have a lot of Dynamight’s merch. My onee-chan has a Shouto shrine that she’s been building for years, and she doesn’t even have this much stuff.”
Izuku examined his desk with his head tilted and his heart rate picking up. He honestly had more All Might merch, with a small desktop analog clock and multiple variations of figures for each era. An overflow from his merch at home, which was now filling up with merch from his former classmates. Kacchan’s merch was sparse in comparison. He liked to have his desk decorated for the times Kacchan came to guest teach. He usually took on a rosy, flustered look and his speech simplified even more with kuso fluffing up every sentence. He had a poster from a magazine pinned next to a calendar of the school year. He also kept a small monthly Dynamight calendar next to his All Might clock. A plushie of a character inspired by Kacchan's gauntlets sat in front of his collection of extra All Might figures.
Izuku did notice that even his stationery was Kacchan themed. To be fair, Kacchan made sure his branding was only on the best stationery. The pens were the best Izuku had ever used, and he had gone through plenty of pens throughout the years with all his notebooks. Kacchan even managed to bring out a notebook that was better than the cheap Campos notebooks Izuku could grab at the konbini. His current notebooks were all from that line.
He glanced back at the girls who were finishing with the forms, his cheeks and chest warm. “Is it a lot? Dynamight gives me a lot of free merchandise.”
Yanagi handed her form over, a tight smile pulling at her mouth. “I’m not sure what the right answer is, Deku-sensei. I don’t want to lie.”
Izuku hoped his frown was hidden behind her form while he looked it over. She was requesting a visit to the department store a couple kilometers from campus, for “shopping”.
“What kind of shopping are you planning?” he asked for protocol—and definitely to not take the attention off her desk decorations. Amachi handed over her form as well, and he glanced over it to see that it was similar to Yanagi’s.
“Well the store has the chocolate brand that collaborates with heroes. We wanted to buy some chocolates for Valentine’s Day.” This gave him pause, and his eyes flicked between the girls and his desk calendar to realize that Valentine’s day was only three days away. When he looked back, Yanagi looked flustered. She waved her hands in front of her face. “It’s only for giri-choco and tomo-choco, though! No ulterior motives! Heroes don’t date!”
Izuku looked down at the forms to sign them off and give Yanagi privacy with her embarrassed outburst. “Heroes date,” he mused. “Even back when I was in high school, Valentine’s Day was very exciting, trying to see who was going to get chocolates.”
Amachi tilted her head. “Do you date?”
“I’m not a hero,” Izuku dismissed the question. Maybe Aizawa was right and Izuku needed to be tougher on his students so they didn’t ask questions about his personal life. He finished his signature and ripped the two sheets forms in half, offering the girls their off campus passes to get past the gates.
The girls glanced at each other, flashing quick panicked looks before they looked back at him. “Thank you, Deku-sensei!” Yanagi said, grabbing her pass.
Amachi grabbed hers too. “Yes. Thank you, Deku-sensei. It’s good to know that even hero students from twenty years ago liked Valentine’s Day!”
Bewildered, his hand subconsciously went up to his face, as if he was trying to feel whatever made them think he was so old. “I’m only twenty-six!” he whined, but the girls didn’t listen, already grabbing their bags and leaving the teachers’ office.
He sighed, turning back to his desk. His eyes traced all his Kacchan merch before he opened his laptop up again and clicked back to the news clip. The news clip of Kacchan. A couple of heroes from their former class showed up to a young child getting his quirk for the first time. The destructive power of acidic rain destroyed Kacchan’s hero costume, leaving his pecs out on display while he explained the situation to Uraraka and also Ashido, who was somebody to help with the acidic quirk.
His cheeks burned. He considered the words he had told his students. Heroes date. When he had said that, he was considering heroes like Kamui Woods and Mount Lady. Vantablack and Shemage. He wasn’t sure if anybody in his former class dated. If Kacchan dated.
Izuku certainly didn’t date. Hadn’t really considered it an option.
He wasn’t really a hero though.
The fourteenth day of the month on his Dynamight calendar grabbed his attention again. Izuku used to always give Kacchan chocolate while growing up. Even if Izuku had only ever received a couple gifts of giri-choco every year from some girls in class, Kacchan never received any. He never seemed upset about it, but Izuku always made sure to give him some chocolate to make sure Kacchan never went home empty handed. Even if Kacchan seemed so put off by it, especially in middle school, when Izuku resorted to tucking the box into Kacchan’s shoe locker, every March fourteenth, there was a box of chocolates waiting for Izuku.
The last year Izuku had given Kacchan any chocolate was their third year of high school. Satou had taught the girls in the class to make their own chocolates in the dorm kitchen, and the girls forced the rest of the guys to make at least one piece of chocolate. When the chocolate had set and Satou demonstrated how to wrap them up nicely, most of the class ate theirs.
Izuku, on the other hand, had taken a seat next to Kacchan and passed over the singular piece of chocolate. While he found it hard to smile between losing One For All and taking the entrance exams for universities in Tokyo while the rest of his class were making plans to join agencies upon graduation, it was so easy to smile at Kacchan. Kacchan’s cheeks turned red when he grabbed the candy, holding it close to his chest. As if he had been waiting for Izuku to come over, the one piece Kacchan made sat next to him, the wrapping beautifully done, with the plastic creased meticulously and the ribbon curled intentionally. He clumsily passed over his chocolate, using his right hand that barely had the grip strength to pinch the piece of wrapping. Izuku gladly accepted it, bringing it up to his chest like Kacchan had.
Izuku wondered if he was too old to give Kacchan chocolates. He knew plenty of people older than him that bought chocolate for coworkers and family and partners. It wasn’t unusual. It had always been hard to catch his friends at the right time to even express his gratitude to have their friendship. They were always busy climbing up the hero rankings, but now with everything so calm and now that his students reminded him of Valentine’s Day, maybe he could catch everybody to give them a small gift.
But for Kacchan…
It had been years since Izuku had gifted him anything, and he felt as if he needed to make up for it with something grand. Kacchan was special, so he deserved only the best.
Was he that kind of special to Izuku? The kind that deserved romantic chocolates and confessions like they were in high school again?
Izuku hummed as his eyes darted around his desk, taking in every piece of Kacchan merch, placed there to elicit a reaction from him when he visited UA. He thought of the easy smiles while they exchanged chocolate. He thought of how he consumed every news video of Kacchan. How his chest felt light. How mentions of Kacchan made his heart beat a little too fast.
He smiled. Yeah. Kacchan was that kind of special.
Izuku found himself going to the supermarket after work. He browsed the chocolate display they had set up near the front of the store, but a frown quickly formed because none of it felt right. None of it was enough to give Kacchan what he deserved.
He held his chin, tapping his thumb against his lower lip while he thought of a better option. Maybe he could go to the department store his students went to and get the hero chocolate. But Izuku had heard of the collaboration, and it only had some newer heroes. There were some from their former classmates, including Shouto and Ingenium, but there wasn’t All Might or Best Jeanist branded chocolate. Not even Dynamight. That wouldn’t be good enough.
Maybe Izuku could make chocolate. Maybe he could find a way to even color the chocolate and layer it so it looked like Golden Age All Might. He pulled his phone out to see the best way to color chocolate and frowned again when he realized white chocolate was preferred.
Kacchan was a secret connoisseur of sweets. As much as Kacchan enjoyed melt-your-face off spicy and savory food, he also loved to indulge in sweets. He could name any bakery just by the taste, and he always snuck a few slices of Satou’s cakes when they lived in the dorms. White chocolate would not be good enough for Kacchan’s sweet tooth.
Maybe Izuku could bake a cake.
He quickly searched for recipes instead and found a chocolate cake recipe from Sugarman—Satou ran a baking blog with his extra time from a lack of villains. That would be perfect. He grabbed a basket to collect the ingredients, feeling so light with excitement.
Izuku (2/11 20:37)
Hi Kacchan! Are you free in the next couple days? Maybe we could get dinner?
Kacchan (2/11 20:42)
I’m off on the 13th. Have to work the 14th because there’s a hero shortage that day. Some stupid holiday or something.
Kacchan (2/11 20:42)
I’ll make dinner.
Kacchan (2/11 20:43)
Come over whenever you’re done with work.
Izuku (2/11 20:46)
Okay! Thank you for offering to cook! I’ll see you then!
The recipe was easy to follow. Izuku spent the night of the twelfth whisking together the ingredients and pouring them carefully into multiple rounded cake pans to create a layered cake. Even with Izuku’s limited counter space, the preparation was simple enough that he didn’t have much to clean while the cake baked. The texture looks spongy and moist, and the smell was rich and decadent. His mouth watered while he stacked layers and frosted the outside.
The afternoon when he went to the supermarket, he also picked up a cake carrier. He had called his mother to see if there was a good time on short notice to grab a nice one from her, but their schedules didn’t line up enough for a spontaneous stop. She did give him advice on presentation, like using some of the frosting on the bottom of the cake to stick to the platter of the stand–that way the cake could survive Izuku traveling to Kacchan’s apartment. She also asked for hints on who the cake was for, voice taking up a teasing tone when she had said, “You know, you did want me to help you get chocolates for Katsuki-kun when you were younger. Are you two still close like that?”
With his face sweltering and body overheating, he had quickly hung up with her, which might’ve told her all she needed to know.
After confirming a date and time with Kacchan, Kacchan had sent him a couple messages asking him what he wanted and what time Izuku expected himself to go over. With every new message, Izuku was realizing how little time he had to prepare. It was only two days to prepare, and it felt simultaneously not enough time and too much. Izuku was a bundle of nerves, especially with more of his students asking for off campus request forms, fueled by Yanagi and Amachi. Any mention of the holiday had him just as flustered as some of his students asking to go off campus.
Kota was one of the last students to ask, coming by during lunch on the day that Izuku was going to meet Kacchan, the thirteenth. “Midoriya-nii, you’ve been acting weird every time somebody mentions Valentine’s Day,” he noted while he filled out his form.
“Deku-sensei in school,” Izuku corrected, but his vision went out of focus while he stared at the Dynamight poster.
Kota sighed at the formality. “Well, Deku-sensei, I think you just need some romance in your life, and then you won’t be weird about Valentine’s Day. I know a certain hotheaded, ugly hero that would gladly say yes to you.”
Izuku blinked back to him, seeing a smirk. He wondered if giving Kacchan a cake to express his feelings was a bad idea if there was somebody else interested in him. “Who are you talking about?” He blinked again, reason coming to him. “Wait. Do not answer that. This is inappropriate to talk about. My personal life is just that. Personal.”
Kota set his form down on the desk and set the Dynamight pen he had borrowed down with a purpose. “It’s not my fault that you bring him in as a guest teacher all the time, and I have to witness the weird pining between you two.”
“Kacchan?” The name came out quickly before Izuku could stop it. He clasped his hand over his mouth with an audible clap and pulled Kota’s form close to him as a distraction. Maybe his cheeks weren’t as bright pink as they felt, and hopefully the hand over his mouth hid the giddy smile. As he read the form, ready to sign it, he dropped his hand. “Oh are you not getting chocolate?” The location was a different high school instead of the department store.
Kota turned as red as his hat, apparently just as easy to embarrass as Izuku was. “Eri-chan has a concert tomorrow.” He tugged the hat down to cover his face. “It’s a group event. Terumoto-kun is also going. He’s getting lunch right now, but he said he’s coming at the end of lunch.”
Izuku hummed, grateful that the attention was off him for a second and he could tease Kota even a little, and signed off on it like he had done many times in the past few days. “Good luck, Kota-kun,” he sang as he handed back the half with the pass.
“Don’t tell Aizawa-sensei,” he begged as he gathered his things to leave. “He always asks me a million questions about my intentions.”
“So long as you don’t bring up Kacchan,” Izuku said while he waved Kota off.
The day dragged on following that, Kota’s comments only making the waiting even more difficult. He hadn’t even considered that maybe Kacchan wouldn’t be interested because Izuku always gave Kacchan chocolates, so the offer wouldn’t affect their friendship as far as he considered. But hearing Kota say that Kacchan pined for Izuku, he was filled with anticipation and anxiety. Izuku restrained himself from texting Kacchan. He wasn’t sure if he would send too much enthusiasm and accidentally confess in his messages or call the whole thing off and ignore his feelings.
Finally, he was able to log off his laptop for the day and run home. He freshened up by brushing his teeth and combing his hair, but he kept his suit on to look more formal while he confessed. He did double check that he hadn’t sweat any stains into his shirt underneath the jacket with all his panicking. Then he grabbed the cake, making sure that the lid was secure and the cake wouldn’t slide around, and emptied his backpack to make room for the cake to lay flat at the bottom.
With his backpack on, he carefully embarked to Kacchan’s apartment, doing his best not to jostle the cake around. The apartment was a short train ride and a little walk away from UA, and Izuku spent most of it cradling his backpack. Soon, Izuku found himself in front of Kacchan’s familiar door. He knocked twice, and the door opened before his knuckles could lift from the second rap. Izuku hoped this was a good sign.
Behind the door was Kacchan. He looked a little different than he normally did. Izuku noticed that his expression was softer, his cheeks a little more flushed, eyes a little more excited. He wore a nicer shirt and pair of pants than his usual streetwear.
Izuku smiled easily. “Hi, Kacchan. Ojamashimasu. Thanks for being able to hang out on such short notice.”
The corner of Kacchan’s lips lifted in his own version of a comfortable smile. “Hey, nerd. Come inside.” He opened the door more to let Izuku in. “I pulled those slippers you like out of the cupboard. The ones I definitely did not buy for you.”
Izuku stepped into the genkan. It was a little small for both of them to stand in there, their toes almost touching. He felt too in Kacchan’s space, too close to his face. Kacchan didn’t seem to mind, adjusting back enough to close the door and give Izuku enough room to unlace his shoes. Before Izuku bent down, he carefully removed his backpack and set it down with care. He pretended not to notice that Kacchan gave the backpack a suspicious look.
Seeing the soft teal slippers that Kacchan always insisted he never bought with Izuku in mind brought a light feeling to every nerve ending in Izuku’s body. Every inch of his body felt giddy, like a high schooler getting to spend time with his crush. Izuku slid his feet into them. “Thanks for the slippers, Kacchan.” He grabbed the top strap of his backpack, ready to enter the apartment.
Kacchan eyed the backpack again. “It’s a little early, so I think I’ll start dinner in half an hour.” He stepped out of the genkan, glancing behind him as if telling Izuku to catch up.
Izuku quickly joined him, pleased that even when letting Izuku into his apartment, Kacchan was adamant to have him by his side rather than behind him. “That’s okay. Do you still have that console? Maybe we could play from Heroes Smash?”
“Of course I do.” Kacchan seemed pleased with the suggestion and led him to the living room. He switched on the console and television and handed Izuku a controller. “We should have time for a couple rounds.”
Izuku set his backpack down next to the couch and settled down on the cushions. Kacchan sat down next to him. Close. Very close. Their legs touched with how close Kacchan sat. Izuku felt warm again, and while the console powered up, he shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it on the couch behind him.
Kacchan sneaked a quick glance at him before turning back to the television with pink cheeks. “Okay, shitty nerd. You’re going down.”
“Okay, Kacchan!” Izuku probably was. Part of Kacchan’s physical therapy to improve his arm and grip strength was to simply play controller video games. It helped improve the reflexes in his hand, and in turn, Kacchan became even more of a dexterous video game player than he had when they were kids.
Izuku lost a lot. The rounds went by quickly. They alternated between having All Might, and even when Izuku had All Might selected, Kacchan still kicked his ass with Best Jeanist, Edge Shot, and Mirko. With their proximity, their arms brushed each while they played, brushing even closer with each competitive jab. Each brush sent electricity through Izuku.
His stomach growling loudly made Kacchan turn off the console. While Izuku folded over himself, embarrassed that it was so loud, Kacchan set his controller down and stood up, with a look down at Izuku. “I think it’s time to start dinner,” he said with a smirk. “Wanna help cut some onions?”
Izuku set down his controller next to Kacchan’s abandoned controller and followed him to the kitchen. “But Kacchan is so pretty when he cries.”
Kacchan froze, whipping his head back to look at Izuku with wild eyes; his cheeks took on a ruddy red that matched his eyes. Izuku smiled back at him, and he broke eye contact, ducking his cheek against his shoulder. “Fuck you. I cut onions so well that I don’t tear up.” His voice didn’t have a bite to it, sounding more embarrassed.
Izuku’s stomach flipped in response. He watched as Kacchan pulled some things out to prepare for dinner. His neck looked red, and he purposefully avoided Izuku’s eyes. With practiced ease, he measured rice and rinsed it in the rice cooker pot before starting that. The more he gathered ingredients, the more relaxed he became, the blush slowly fading. Izuku could see a relaxed look on his face while he placed a cutting board in front of Izuku. His eyes looked so pretty when he wasn’t twisting his face into an irritated look. He looked so pretty in general, with his sharp features softened.
“Stop fucking gawking at me,” he murmured as he slammed an onion down on the cutting board in front of Izuku. A couple carrots and potatoes followed.
“Sorry, Kacchan. I can’t help it,” Izuku mumbled back. He reached for a knife from the magnetic knife board on the wall and subtly watched to see how Kacchan responded.
Kacchan fumbled while unwrapping the chunk of beef in front of his own cutting board; the meat fell with a juicy thud, leaving a splatter of juices. “Hurry up and cut that onion, so I can laugh at you crying.” He grabbed the bigger knife to slice into the meat.
Izuku grinned while he peeled the onion. He never noticed how much he affected Kacchan. He talked like this often, not knowing what it meant for him and what it meant for Kacchan. He had always been enamored with how Kacchan moved and how he looked. He just never knew that the things he said had this much power over him. He wondered what the reaction would be when he pulled out the cake.
Tears immediately sprung when he cut into the onion, his nose dripping a little too. “How’s work been?” he asked with a wavering voice and sniffle.
Kacchan smirked at him before continuing to carve the meat into thin strips and then told the story of the boy with the acid rain quirk. He complained about the little burns he endured, but mostly he mourned his costume. “I have backups, but that crazy mad scientist is taking this as an opportunity to make weird design choices on my costume,” he said while he started searing the meat in a large pan and working on a roux in a smaller one.
Izuku had moved onto peeling the carrots and potatoes but his eyes and nose still ran from the onion. He laughed despite that. “It’s cool that Hatsume-san is your costume designer now. She’s made some great upgrades to your costume like better gloves that help you hold onto the sweat in your palms for cluster and lighter gauntlets that have better storage.”
“They don’t look like grenades anymore.” Kacchan pouted, his lip jutting out while he handled both pans. Cute. “She’s ruining the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight persona.”
“I thought the gauntlets were supposed to be like Mirko’s prosthetics.”
“Shut up.” He pulled his lip back to gnaw on it. “How’s work for you? Do you have any extra time to collect data for the suit?”
Izuku accidentally pressed the peeler too hard against the carrot, splitting the top of it off. He set it down and pretended like he meant to do that. “I’ve been a little too busy to take the suit out in the last few days. A lot of my students have been going off campus… for stuff… And I need to be on call in case of an emergency.”
“Why the hell are so many of them going off campus?”
Izuku tilted his head to look at Kacchan. He seemed confused. Maybe he didn’t realize that tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. “Everybody wants to get the hero chocolate to give for—” Izuku choked a little on his saliva, a little too skittish to say it around Kacchan. “—Valentine’s Day.”
He kept his gaze on Kacchan, watching as Kacchan paused. He flicked his eyes briefly towards a drawer, pink painting his cheeks. “Oh.”
After Izuku finished cutting and Kacchan put together the curry, they had about twenty minutes for food to boil and simmer before the food was ready. Izuku eyed his backpack against the couch, wondering if this would be a good time.
Kacchan stretched his arms, the hem of his nice shirt pulling up a little to show off a thin line of his stomach. The flash of the pale muscled skin dried Izuku’s throat out. Kacchan didn’t seem to notice the power he had; instead he crossed his arms, hiding his stomach, and looked around. “We could play a couple more rounds of Heroes Smash.”
Izuku looked at his bag again, gathering his wits. “Uh, actually, I have something for you.”
Kacchan narrowed his eyes. “What could you have possibly brought? It better not be alcohol because you know I don’t drink.”
“I would never.” Izuku grabbed his bag and approached Kacchan slowly. He stopped about one and a half meters in front of him, too scared to go further. He tugged the top open and loosened the tie at the top. With a peek inside, he was pleased to see that the cake container stayed in the same position that he had put it in. Hopefully, it didn’t get jostled around too much.
He carefully lifted it out of the backpack, letting the bag drop on the floor in front of him. Kacchan seemed to watch him carefully, gauging every moment like he would in a fight. The lid was almost fully opaque, with only enough transparency to see the shape of the cake inside, but Izuku saw Kacchan’s eyes glued to it all the same.
He held it out, but with the distance he had put between them, it would require Kacchan to come closer to take it. Both of them were quiet, seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move, and the only sounds came from the kitchen where the water in the rice cooker boiled and the curry on the stovetop simmered.
Kacchan parted his lips and finally looked at Izuku. His eyes looked shimmery and glittery. The heartbeat-shaped scar stood out against the pretty pink spreading across his cheeks. “What’s this?” he whispered. He took a step forward, not close enough to take the cake, but more as an invitation for Izuku.
Izuku kicked his abandoned backpack aside and closed the distance. Kacchan licked his lips at his approach, and his eyes followed that tongue. “I made you a cake,” he said. The words struggled to leave his throat, and they came out as a gravelly murmur.
Kacchan reached out, his fingers touching Izuku’s while he took hold of the carrier. Izuku gasped at the contact; the touch was electrifying, but it was gone too soon as Kacchan pulled the container from Izuku’s hands and closer to him. “What kind of cake?” he asked as he popped the lid open.
“Chocolate.”
Kacchan pulled the lid off. Izuku suddenly felt self conscious about it. He looked down at it too, noticing imperfections in how he had applied the frosting. It wasn’t nice and smooth, and he didn’t have a piping bag to decorate the way he wanted it to. He peeked at Kacchan through his lashes, trying to gauge his reaction through his embarrassment.
Kacchan looked at the cake with a soft smile though. He even ran his finger along the uneven frosting and popped it in his mouth. Izuku walked as he sucked on it and moaned, and he could feel himself salivating at the sight. He made the messy frosting look decadent. Izuku wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the finger or the frosting or both. “I like chocolate,” Kacchan said, breaking through Izuku’s perverted thoughts. “Tastes good. What’s the occasion?”
The sound of his heartbeat pounding filled his ears. He could feel sweat pooling down his back, feeling completely and utterly unprepared suddenly. His mouth worked, forming shapes of words, until finally he lamely said, “V-valentine’s Day.”
Kacchan pressed him with his stare. It seemed so intense, but Izuku could see that he was just as flustered as him. “A homemade cake for Valentine’s Day, huh?” He wanted Izuku to say more.
Izuku wanted to say more too, but words were failing him. He had never confessed before. Nobody had ever confessed to him either. He felt as inexperienced as a high school student with their first crush. But Kacchan was more than a simple crush. He was all consuming, a force that had been in Izuku’s life for over two whole decades, a childhood crush turned something more intense somewhere along the way.
He pressed his hands against his burning cheeks, feeling almost feverish with embarrassment. His fingers covered his eyes, giving him a shield while he whispered, “I—I like Kacchan.” He fanned his fingers to peek through the gaps. He gasped when he noticed tears catching on Kacchan’s long lashes and dripping down his cheeks. “Why are you crying?”
“The fucking onions.” Kacchan raised his arm to wipe at his eyes with the upper arm of his shirt.
Izuku dropped his hands and got closer, placing his hands on his upper arms. “Kacchan, please. Was it my confession? I’ll take it back. Don’t cry.”
He tried to scowl, but with the tears dripping and his lip quivering, it looked more like a frown. “Don’t you fucking dare. Dammit. Don’t take it back.”
Offhandedly, Izuku noticed that Kacchan had increased his usage of kuso, and his lips tipped up. “Okay. I won’t take it back.” He gently pulled the cake from his hands and set it on the small dining table. With Kacchan’s hands free, he grabbed both of them, delicately running his thumbs over the knuckles. “I just don’t know why you’re crying.”
“You did say I’m pretty when I cry, asshole.” He wiped at his eyes again, pulling Izuku’s hand with his own and using Izuku’s scarred finger. “It’s just that…Fuck, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Nine years, at least.”
Izuku squeezed his hands lightly. “That’s so long, Kacchan. I’m sorry it took me that long.”
“I’ve been trying to drop hints, dammit! I picked merch based on things useful to you. I spent so long working with All Might, the Shields, that crazy mad scientist, and our class to make sure you had a suit. I wanted to be the first person you saw when you put it on. I got a car with a backseat that’s supposed to trap you forever so you never leave me, and I wanted to show it off to you so bad. I made it clear that I wanted to work by your side. I was just so scared of confessing because I wasn’t sure if I was going to get my heart broken.”
With every word, Izuku’s heart pounded harder and harder. He felt his own eyes tear up, worse than when he was cutting the onion. “Kacchan,” he cried. “I took too long. I’m so sorry.”
Kacchan brought their hands up to Izuku’s cheeks. “Izuku, I would wait for decades for you. You're worth it. I can’t see myself loving anybody else.”
Izuku sobbed, realizing that Kacchan didn’t just like him, he loved him. In response, Kacchan seemed to cry harder too, and his watery smile, full of so much love, etched itself onto Izuku’s heart. Using their linked hands, he pulled Kacchan closer. “I love you, Kacchan. I think I always have. I just didn’t know it yet.”
“It’s okay, Izuku. I’m just happy that you’re here now.”
He stared into Kacchan’s eyes, the ruby red irises endless and shimmering with the tears. They were close enough in height that their faces were almost at an even level. Izuku felt gravitated towards him, two magnets always pulled towards each other. Kacchan seemed to be moving in too.
Their lips met, a little sloppy, with Izuku making contact more with the skin around Kacchan’s lips. He readjusted, kissing him with all the love he felt. The kiss tasted salty from their combined tears, with a hint of chocolate and the new beginning.