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Izuku lets his fingers trace the lines on Katsuki's palm, drawing stars and other random shapes on the other boy’s bigger and calloused hand as he stares up at the night sky, tracing over the scar at the very center. There were so many times when he wanted to ask the blonde how he'd gotten the scar on his right palm, but he always forgot by the time they part ways.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
A small gasp escaped Izuku's lips as he lets go of the blonde's hand, embarrassed at being caught. “S-sorry…” Izuku mumbles, already missing the warmth the other’s hand emitted. A few moments later, Izuku felt Katsuki’s hand firmly holding onto his, he couldn’t help but let out a small smile. Taking his eyes off of their intertwined hands, Izuku looks up and watches Katsuki form the corner of his eyes, but the blonde was already looking away.
Izuku’s frowns, it always bothered him at how distant the other boy always seemed to look whenever they try to go anywhere together.
'Was he that boring to be with?'
They fall into silence once again, sitting on a bench by the river close to the stalls and booths of the Obon festival. It was Izuku who suggested they’d go together to watch the fireworks thinking it would be a great opportunity to finally break the wall between the two of them, maybe it was a horrible idea after all.
Judging by the scowl on Katsuki’s expression, Izuku was already regretting ever asking the blonde the go with him. The silence was suffocating and Izuku needed to think of a way to start a conversation, any topic will do, anything was better than this, this silence.
With a sigh, Izuku studied the other boy’s face, taking note of every detail he could remember and committing them to memory. The way the other’s hands fits perfectly on his, warm and rough, just like Katsuki himself. He was tracing patterns on the other boy’s hands again when he felt it, the scar. “How’d you get that this, Kacchan?” Izuku blurted, remembering to ask him before he could forget again.
Katsuki gave him a questioning glance. “What are you talking about nerd?”
“Your scar.” Izuku answers, looking at the jagged line running down on the center of Katsuki’s right palm. “You’ve gotta be pretty damn specific; I’ve got a whole fucking bunch of em?”
“This one,” Izuku stars, picking up the blonde’s hand and showing it to him “the one on your palm.”
The blonde takes his hand away from the smaller boy’s grip and stares at it, using his left hand to feel along the lines on skin and stops when his fingers rested on the scar. “The fuck should I know? It’s kind of always been there. Probably got the shitty thing when I was younger or something.”
Izuku, already used to the other’s vulgar vocabulary, imagines a young Katsuki, running along the river near the forest where they used to go and catch beateles and accidentally hurting himself. “If you say so…” Izuku mumbled, still unsure if Katsuki was telling him the whole story.
And there it was again, the silence.
✫ ✫ ✫
“You didn’t have to come with me if you didn’t want to, you know.” Katsuki didn’t even have to look at him to know the other boy was hurt; the sadness in Izuku’s soft voice was enough to make him wince. Someone could hold a knife at his throat. Hell, he’d been face-to-face with countless villains before. During all those time, not once has he winced, or flinched, or backed down at all, he fought all of them head on with a smile on his face.
But now, well… Katsuki Bakugou didn’t have a single clue on what to say or do.
“I’m-“
“I love you, Katsuki.”
How could four simple words affect his entire being this much?
Katsuki would never tell Izuku, but that was his weakness, those four simple words. It was times like this when he felt the most powerless. He felt frighteningly vulnerable under Izuku’s teary eyes and heartfelt confession. But instead of answering Izuku, Katsuki chose to look up at the night sky. His face is empty, void of any emotion, but his crimson eyes are storms of emotions crackling and conflicting, fighting for dominance.
He wants to convey everything he’s feeling, but how can he? What does he say to a boy who’s managed to make his heart feel more than what he thought was ever capable? It’s not enough, his words will never be enough, and nothing he says would ever be enough.
What was the point of answering back?
“Why don’t you ever say it back?”
How many times has he avoided this question, he’s already lost count. He’s avoided answering this question ever since the first time Izuku confessed to him. He wasn’t good at these kinds of things; he was never good at voicing out his feelings.
You can ask him to throw a ball as far as 67 meters, and you can ask him about the english homework, and you can ask him about mountain climbing and the way the sun reflects on the peak of the mountain, and, hell, you can even ask him a bit about the different kinds of spicy Japanese cuisines. But he doesn’t know what to say to someone whom he values more than himself.
“I…” Katsuki starts, his voice low and rough.
Izuku stares at him expectantly, his beautiful bright eyes searching his face.
“I don’t not love you.”
Izuku sighs. “Seriously, Kacchan?” he asks, disbelief in his voice.
“What? It’s what you fucking wanted, right?”
“I wanted you to say three little words, but I guess that’s too much for you.”
Katsuki reached up a calloused hand and smooths his thumb on the freckles on Izuku's cheek, did he even know just how much he was destroying him. His hard crimson eyes seemed to contemplate about something before he moves his face to Izuku, leaning on smaller boy’s shoulders.
"K-Kacchan?" Izuku asks hesitantly, wondering exactly what the blonde was about to do.
"I don't love you," he said, causing Izuku to gasp. He felt pain stabbing at his chest and the slow trickling of tears from his eyes at Katsuki's harsh words.
"Kacchan-"
"I don't love you," Katsuki repeated, whispering the words to Izuku's ear as he uses his thumb to wipe the tears off Izuku’s face, sending shivers down Izuku's spine. His nose brushed Izuku's neck and Izuku wondered how he was still able to stand up right. Why was he saying all these things now, did he want to hurt him this much, was he the only one who felt something between them-
"I fucking need you, Deku." Katsuki finishes, cutting off Izuku's train of thought.
Five simple words and Izuku kissed him before he could even get another word out.
Everyone gathered by the river to watch the fireworks, wanting to be able to witness the festival’s grand finale. But to Katsuki, the fireworks were nothing compared to the way Izuku’s eyes shines in the night sky as he kisses him back, though he’ll never say it out loud.