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There’s a certain type of deep aching that only pressure can release. The type that builds up after years of strain and tear, burrowed within your muscles and ligaments. Hidden inside your bleeding flesh and tough bones.
Being a hero means needing maintenance. This was something hardly spoken about back in highschool, and Izuku wonders sometimes if that was ever really a topic that was going to be explored or not. The war put a wrench in a lot of their adolescence. They were left to pick up the pieces.
It’s late tonight. Not terribly so, but enough to notice the absence. Their shared space is quietly comfortable as Izuku types away. He has a love hate relationship with grading specifically. It can be arduous but sometimes he finds his rhythm. Luckily for him, tonight is one of those nights. Exams were due today, and they are needing to be finalized. Most of the answers he doesn’t have to think much about, which he enjoys the most. He almost misses the way the door creaks open a bit as he absent-mindedly clicks away at his keyboard.
The hallway light shifts from dark to light, which catches Izuku’s rapt attention. Kacchan. Immediately he drops what he’s doing and stands. When he’s teaching, he isn’t able to fully stay in tune on the happenings of the hero world. But he always tries to at least stay informed on what’s going on. And he’ll deny it till the hounds come home, but Kacchan always manages to keep the most of Izuku’s attention when he appears on screen. And if he didn’t have a job to do, he’d have all of it.
Kacchan had a rough day today.
Izuku steps out into the hall softly, but speeds up when he closes in on Kacchan. As soon as red eyes find green, he can sense the tension leave the other. Katsuki never allows it to show when he’s in pain. He takes too much pride in his career, and he’s learned from an early age that panicked people need strong people to reassure them that it will be okay. Kacchan had always been headstrong, but the war amplified it in a way that makes Izuku’s heart clench.
“Hey, Kacchan.” He says gently.
He watches Katsuki release a breath he probably didn’t realize he was holding. His shoulders sag.
“Izuku.” He says his name in a tender way. Izuku recognizes that he probably can’t bring himself to say much else. Katsuki walks forward, and it looks like he’s just about ready to fall into the other’s arms. Instead, he settles for a kiss as he stops in front of him.
“Long day. Gonna shower.” He grunts as he steps away. His footsteps are heavier than usual. Katsuki carries himself in such a way that hardly anybody notices his discomfort. Anybody but Izuku. He is always carefully analyzing him, picking him apart so he knows exactly how to put him back together again. It’s a language only the two of them share.
He resumes grading, and a little while later he hears the water shut off. He gives Kacchan his space so he can finish his nightly routine in peace while Izuku finds a stopping point, packing up everything so it’s ready to go for tomorrow.
By the time he heads to the bedroom, Kacchan is already laying down. His hearing aides are out, carefully placed on the nightstand next to their bed. His back is facing Izuku, with his face buried in one of their pillows. Even from a distance, he can see Katsuki’s labored breathing. Every now and then his back twitches, the muscles underneath jumping and tugging.
Izuku makes his way across the bedroom and taps Kacchan’s foot to let him know he’s here. Running a scarred hand up his calf, he can see the way Kacchan’s skin raises from his abrasions on his hand, prickling at the contact.
He kisses the other’s temple before getting to work. Kacchan runs hot, and he only ever sleeps in boxers at night. This gives Izuku easier access.
He runs his hands along his deltoids, down his spine, over his ribs, gently pressing in small circles to get his muscles to release some tension. Kacchan sighs in relief, shoulders releasing as they bunch up again. He quietly hums, and Izuku is fortunate that Kacchan can’t hear the way he calls it “cute.”
After a while of slow, gentle motions, Izuku begins to press firmer in certain areas to pinpoint the right knot of muscles. He carefully gages Kacchan’s reactions to locate them. The way his brows furrow as he sucks in a breath lets him know that he found the point of stress.
He presses on his spine, in between his shoulder blades, which earns him a low groan from the other. If he can make Kacchan vocal, it means he’s doing a good job. Pressing in the areas in most need of his attention.
His thumbs dig in around the tensed up muscles and Katsuki’s breath stutters as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s always been so good for Izuku, pliant and malleable. Despite the obvious pain, he remains still for the other. Izuku counts his lucky stars that he is able to receive Kacchan in this form, after so many years of strain in their relationship. He’s the only one that has earned this quiet side of him, and everyday he feels incredibly blessed for it.
After a few minutes of massaging, he drags his thumbs to the top of Katsuki’s neck, rubbing in firm circles on the bones and muscle. Katsuki curses under his breath, gripping the sheets in an attempt to ground himself. When Izuku drags one hand slightly lower, urging crooked fingers into the other’s shoulder muscles, Kacchan groans loudly. It quickly turns into a grunt, breath caught in his throat at unyielding intrusion. After several seconds of holding his breath, he releases it as his shoulders sag and sighs softly. His muscles still jump under Izuku’s fingers, but little by little they begin to give. Izuku views this unspoken ritual almost like molding with wet clay. Soft and mendable. Taking care to make sure of no air pockets. His Kacchan is a masterpiece that requires careful and thoughtful attention.
After working out the kinks in his upper back, he moves on to his lower. This area doesn’t require consideration, but Izuku knows it’s always a point of stress for Kacchan. Even on the good days. They all feel it, and that’s the price of breaking down your body day after day. He wishes they were taught the importance of this. As he’s doing his objective due diligence, he makes a mental note to prepare his students for this side of hero work too.
Kacchan pants softly at a particularly sore spot, stretching his limbs as he grunts.
“L-Love you.” A quiet admission shared between them. It’s his way of showing his appreciation. The weight of his thank you hangs heavy in the back of Izuku’s head. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦.
He finishes after a while, bed raising as Izuku stands and scratches Katsuki’s scalp. He leans into it and closes his eyes. These little moments mean everything, especially in a career path where coming home is never promised.
Izuku climbs into bed, turning towards Kacchan as the other shifts his body to accommodate. Lidded, red eyes find their way to Izuku’s. He’s sure he doesn’t realize it, but Kacchan slow blinks like a cat showing affection when he’s feeling particularly tender. Izuku’s heart squeezes in his chest every time he witnesses it. It never gets old.
‘I saw most of what I could today on the news.’ He signs to the other. ‘You were incredible as always, Kacchan. Kacchan sugoi.’ He smiles as his hands find his jaw for a gentle kiss.
“Mm.” Is all the response he receives as Katsuki shuffles closer to the other. It’s a night where he’s not really talkative, which Izuku understands. As Kacchan lays his head on Izuku’s chest, he rubs his face in his shirt as he slowly exhales. If Kacchan had the ability to purr, he’d be doing it right now. But Izuku keeps that thought to himself as he turns off their lamp, enveloping their room in cozy darkness.