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Bakugou Katsuki had always known love.
It was all-encompassing, bordering on suffocating through the way his mother would strangle him into forced hugs, pat down his head as though that didn't make his spikes prickle with anger.
It was overstimulating, loud in the raucous of admirers who tried to pile themselves on top of him once his quirk manifested.
It was the pressure of bomb eager to burst as his mentors' eyes watched him sharply, a shiver creeping up his spine at the idea of it being fizzling out at the first sign of him fucking up.
It was everywhere, everywhere all at once as a bunch of extras weaseled their way into his chest, cheering him on despite every setback, ready to catch him if need be—even when he yelled that he could land on his feet all by himself.
It was festering, like poison curling through his veins as he fought at the end of the world, brutal reminders of the neverending pain that would come even if he brought victory to that coffin in the sky.
But it was so warm.
A ray of sun that he'd once tried to blink away. He would swat at viciously, but the soft glints would just dance along him happily. His eyes must've adjusted over time, because he no longer had to squint to look at that smile anymore.
It was smooth. Satisfying, right. Like a hot bath after a grueling workout.
It was easy. Waking up in the morning , eager for the possibilities and challenges that came with facing another day. The grit, determination, desire to win.
And even though they'd slept halfway through the afternoon, Katsuki grinned as it blinked up at him, green eyes shimmering with the promise of a million wishes.
He felt greedy. Katsuki already had everything he wanted. He didn't even need wishes.
He'd hoard them all the same, though.
Well, maybe there was one thing…
Kiss him.
The sudden thought still surprised him with how ferociously it writhed around in his mind, a serpent coiled and ready to strike. He should've been used to it by now, should've tamed it. But it was a tedious thing to befriend, with fangs sharp and deadly, one wrong move and it's over. And contrary to what most believed about him, Katsuki was careful. Calculating. He didn't just jump into things without thinking over every possiblity first. Sure, he didn't have the analytical brain the nerd did, but that didn't make him a total moron.
He knew better than to tempt fate. Than to hold up his arms full of so much that he'd already received upon endless begging, prayers, deals he'd willingly make until he had nothing left but this, yet still ask for more.
He wanted to. God, he wanted. Maybe more than anything he'd ever wanted before. At times, he was convinced his chest had never fully healed, tremors shaking him to his core that he was convinced only Izuku had the secrets to cure.
But everything between them was perfect. Finally, finally.
Years of turmoil. Growing up, growing through his stubborn phase. Apologizing and atoning. Making it up to him, earning him. True friendship, like it'd been before the rest of the world pressed in too close around Katsuki. Just him and Izuku, no one else. Even when there were sporadic villain attacks or periods spent apart due to long distance missions, Katsuki didn't worry.
They're grown up.
Together.
Grown.
Together.
Wars, psychotic villains, trauma and night terrors, grief and depression, the slow, agonizingly slow and torturous flickering out of Izuku's quirk, denial and more depression, graduations, first jobs, teaching and working his way up the ranks.
It was imperfect. Anyone would say that.
Katsuki didn't see it that way.
People already thought he was insane, so what was one more thing?
He loved the damn nerd, simple as that. He'd accepted it long ago, probably a lot earlier than most would've guessed. But he had no doubt the one who mattered the most knew. And as the years rolled by, and they were still within arm's reach, Katsuki discovered perhaps for the first time something that he wasn't a natural at.
Giving love.
The simple words wouldn't be enough. Though, most days, Katsuki didn't think anything ever would be. He wanted to rip his hair out, scribble like a madman into notebooks how Izuku did just to try to straighten out the ideas he had, form some sort of plan for this. Because he was a hero, dammit, and a good one at that. How could something so simple, something he'd known his whole life, feel so big and impossible?
Love had always been too much. Showed in a way that Katsuki couldn't understand, couldn't read. He tried, god, did he try. But it left him frustrated and near tears in his childhood, hugs becoming too much that he couldn't breathe. He'd scream into his pillow after doing well in training, and All Might or Aizawa would give him a wry smile, like they were proud. But that didn't make sense, either, because Katsuki hadn't done enough yet. He didn't understand, and he grew angry, explosions popping off without his control.
Yet through it all, Izuku had remained patient. As though he knew Katsuki was trying. Even when Katsuki yelled at him, fought him and returned his love with his fists, Izuku waited. Kind, compassionate Izuku, with the heart of a true hero, and the patience of a true friend.
So how, after all of that, how the fuck was Katsuki supposed to find a way to give love to Izuku? To the one who deserved it perhaps more than anyone else in the world? Not just because he saved all of them, but that in and of itself made him worth more than all the extras combined. No, because he was just Izuku. Nerdy, blabbering, awkward Izuku with his perfect fucking freckles and pinchable cheeks. Sweet and too trusting for his own good Izuku, who had the self-preservation instincts of a tomato fallen from the vine, and had stood strong even when Katsuki tried to tear him down time and again.
How was he supposed to decipher his feelings, sift through them to find only the good parts, only the best for Izuku, present them in a way that wasn't as scarred and mangled as his own heart?
Love had always seemed to hurt. They said it conquors all, and the reality behind that terrified Katsuki. While it made so many others float, Katsuki was lead weight, sinking down, down, down, never able to reach the hands that grasped for him. And everyone had been trying so hard. It wasn't their fault they didn't understand him.
Only one ever did.
That's why he was determined to do this right. Woo the nerd, sweep him off of his feet. Shower him with sweet nothings that would no doubt make him stutter and blush, cook him his favorite meals until he was full and sleepy, dozing off in Katsuki's arms. Maybe even buy him all those rare Edgeshot collectibles he'd bookmarked on his laptop—because his nerd had become an intense fan after the war, practically kissing the guy's feet and thanking him for saving Kacchan. Yeah, he'd do all that and then some, fill up his nerd apartment with all the things only Katsuki knew to provide him with.
And only then would Katsuki kiss him.
He wouldn't hurt Izuku anymore. He loved him too much for that. And love was a powerful weapon. It had exploded his chest, once upon a time, and left the world crumbling down.
A soft giggle brought him back to the present, a harmony of string instruments or wind chimes or every other lovely sound in the universe. Evergreen eyes, warm enough to keep him comfy all throughout the unforgiving winter.
"Kacchan? Are you okay?"
The afternoon sun cast meandered its way over the bed, soft shadows upon the white comforter from where Izuku was still curled up. Katsuki ran warm, obviously, and had kicked off his side of the blanket, lounging in nothing but his boxers as he watched the nerd slowly blink awake. It always took him twice as long as Katsuki, his breaths still unhurried and deep, movements languid as his muscles warmed. Katsuki could do nothing but watch, wondering if this could count as an artform. He'd studied it long enough, drew interpretations and meanings from each and every yawn.
"Just thinkin'. S'nothing to worry about, Freckles."
Izuku hummed, offering him a slow smile as he closed those eyes and stretched. He always made cute little noises, tiny squeaks he couldn't hold in. Katsuki held his breath, and, yeah. He was a work of art, that was for sure. Conjuring feelings out of Katsuki even poets would be jealous of, some undiscovered meaning of life that was supposed to be hidden away in the deep. All right there, with a face full of freckles and eyes that dared him to look even closer, see what else he could find.
Kiss him.
His cheeks burned, ears steaming. He looked away before Izuku caught him.
"Last night was fun," Izuku's voice was delicate, whisper thin, as though he too recognized how special this moment they'd found themselves in was. Their schedules were pretty much lined up, and they spent many lunch breaks together even if they weren't working together, but still.
Slow moments like this had turned into Katsuki's favorite.
Funny, since he'd spent his youth sprinting towards a finish line, trying to outrun a gangly little nerd.
They may as well be hand in hand now. Katsuki hoped their touch could keep them suspended right here for just a little bit longer. Goin' no where fast, so long as he had Izuku by his side. That's alright with him.
"Can't believe you rented out a fuckin' club just so you could dance, nerd," Katsuki laughed. Izuku opened his eyes again, grinning big and wide, eyes shining like there hadn't been a day that had passed since he was a kid, and Katsuki had never even thought to hurt him.
"I wanted to spend time with my best friend, uninterrupted," Izuku scoffed, and pulled the comforter up higher so it covered his shoulder. Katsuki rolled his eyes and flicked his nose.
"Coulda just had a night in, if that's what you wanted."
Izuku scrunched his nose. He always looked like a bunny when he did that. Katsuki had to resist the urge to pet him. "It's not the same. I wanted to pretend to show you off. Dance with you in public. Feel like normal people for once without cameras breathing down our necks."
Yeah, that's fair. It might be the only thing that Katsuki could admit wasn't perfect. This lack of privacy. But it came with the territory, and Katsuki had long accepted that. Still, he couldn't hide his grin at the nerd's wording, and threw an arm around him to tug him closer.
"Couple of bartenders sure got an eyeful," Katsuki chuckled, remembering how tipsy Izuku had gotten. He'd sang loudly to every song he knew, and even did the dance all the way back from the school festival their first year at UA. He'd tried to teach Katsuki, and Katsuki had tried to let him, but it was hopeless, and they just ended up swaying and staring at each other for too long to be considered anything less than utterly enamored. As though neither of them could believe that was real life.
"You don't think they got any pictures, right? Izuku groaned, and hid his head under the blanket. It only made him burrow closer to Katsuki, the scent of mint and chocolate sweetness making his mouth water.
"They signed a bunch of shit before we arrived," Katsuki reminded him. "I wouldn't mind some evidence from last night, though."
Izuku poked his head out again, resting his chin on Katsuki's chest. His breath caught at how close they were; he could count his freckles if he wanted to, but at this point, it was like reciting the alphabet. He had each one memorized, could see them even in the darkest night. Would likely trace them in his mind's eye as he gave his last breath.
"But I was so embarrassing, Kacchan! I didn't even think I remembered that dance!"
"Stop your worryin'," Katsuki tugged him even closer, and nuzzled up into those curls just 'cause he could. "You were adorable. Like a little bunny out on that dance floor bouncin' around and shakin' ass."
"Arghhh, Kacchan!!"
Katsuki laughed, loud and rough, and squeezed the soft, relaxed muscle above Izuku's hip. It always made him shriek and squirm, damn near landing himself in Katsuki's lap in his attempt to flee the tickling.
He was so perfect, sometimes all Katsuki wanted to do was well up with tears at how lucky he was to have him like this, to have him at all. He'd always told the nerd to keep his eyes on him, but Katsuki was hopeless to do anything but watch him right back. Gaze at him in his early mornings, look to him when he was scared or stressed. He was full of so much love, he thought he might drown, and nothing could save him except for the inevitable overflowing of his own tears, each one a different mark of his love for Izuku.
Last night hadn't been planned. Sure, they hung out all the time. Damn near couldn't stay outta each other's sights. But going out together like that had never really been the norm for them. Not since the war had shot both of them into the limelight, forever cursed to be chased by fans and random extras and nosy assholes with cameras.
Izuku had fidgeted and blushed when he'd asked Katsuki. As though he thought Katsuki was a big enough fool to say no. Tch. Dumb nerd.
They'd gotten dressed up real nice, breaking out the suits they usually saved for hero galas where they always had to be on their best behaviour. But on that night, with no prying eyes except for the ones they always looked towards, they could shed their hero personas, leave behind all the perfect, primmed up bits and pieces of themselves. Free to just intertwine as Kacchan and Deku.
It was who they were always meant to be. Who they were at their core, who they'd always turn back into no matter how many times they strayed from their paths.
"Kacchan."
That voice. Katsuki's hearing was going, an unfortunate consequence of his quirk and not wearing ear protection until far too late. But he could be completely deaf and still hear that voice, an arrow to the heart every time.
He'd felt worse things before.
"Freckles."
Izuku was looking at him again. Just… looking. Like he had permission. Like he'd demanded it, wrangled it from Katsuki all those years ago and never let go. Like he was damn proud of it, and it was a trophy he had on display, prominent as all his favorite All Might collectibles. Katsuki licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to see what that face looked like if he closed the distance between them entirely, took things further than they ever had been before.
Kiss him.
Everything was perfect. Too perfect. Katsuki couldn't ask for more. He'd already gotten everything he'd ever wanted. His arms were full of nerd, and green eyes were still on him. He didn't dare move, wouldn't do a damn thing to compromise this. He was used to spewing out nonsense, talking smack like his life depended on it. But he had to pick kind words to give Izuku, as though he were picking fresh berries in the spring. He'd pile them into a beautiful basket, hand-woven just for him. Izuku deserved nothing less.
But after all these years, Katsuki still hadn't found the damn words.
He'd searched high and low. Read poetry, romance novels, even studied the golden age of love confessions on film. Centuries of yearning and aching, and still, none of it came fuckin' close to how Katsuki felt about Izuku. The experts couldn't help him, and Katsuki's own mind turned into a puddle whenever Izuku looked at him for too long, but he had to be the best, dammit. He'd never give up, would search the world if he had to.
It was an impossible riddle Katsuki couldn't stop being fascinated with. How he could look at Izuku, his Izuku, be filled to the brim with emotion and feelings and love love love, and yet…
No words.
Nothing.
Just a blank screen. An empty piece of paper, pen long abandoned. Nothing save for endless fields of green, that smile, and Katsuki was heat resistant, but by god, he burned for him.
But then.
This damn nerd.
This beautiful, chaotic, stupid nerd.
"Do you like me, Kacchan?"
Katsuki snorted. "The fuck? 'Course I like you. Why the fuck would I spend all this time with you if I didn't?"
Izuku fidgeted under the blanket. Katsuki was half covered up now, thanks to Izuku cuddling up to him, and he could feel the tingle of his fingertips mindlessly tracing the starburst scar on his chest. Izuku tended to do that a lot, especially now that their casual sleepovers had become more routine. Every soft graze left Katsuki jolting, entire body surging as though he was having a quirk awakening all over again. Except now, there was no pain.
There was just Izuku.
Izuku murmured, and Katsuki leaned in to hear him. When he didn't catch it, he placed a hand on his cheek, guided his eyes back up to him, there. Right where they belonged.
Always watchin' each other.
Katsuki smiled.
Izuku's eyes filled with tears. Glassy and beautiful. Katsuki was wiping his cheeks before the first drop could fall. Just collected it on his thumb like he always did, like he always would.
"What's wrong, my crybaby?"
You couldn't be friends with Izuku and not be used to spontaneous tears. But still, Katsuki couldn't help the pang of worry that rose within him, whispering harsh words at him, scolding him for being too much, giving the wrong things in the wrong way, somehow hurting Izuku even as he stepped so delicately.
"Nothing's wrong," Izuku's smile was wobbly, and it reminded Katsuki of when they were kids. When Izuku would fall in the woodchips while trying to keep up with Katsuki. Skinned his knee right up, blood dripping down his shin. Katsuki had skidded to a stop, doubled back to examine the wound with the confidence of an EMT. He looked up, preparing himself to talk Deku out of it, offer words of encouragement to get him up and home so they could patch him up real nice, only to be met with that fighting smile. That look. Hell, Katsuki wasn't even injured, had no reason to be scared, and yet that look took all the nerves right outta him. Just made 'em evaporate like that. Fuckin' magic.
"Then what're the tears for?" Katsuki asked, and wiped another away. Izuku's lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks, and he shrugged a shoulder.
"Just really happy, Kacchan."
A thousand fireworks went off around Katsuki's brain, leaving him dizzy. He gripped onto Izuku to stay upright.
"That so, Freckles?"
"Mhm," Izuku said through a sigh, and snuggled back up to Katsuki's chest. Just laid his head down like it was his spot to take, a cat curling up in a sunbeam, and, fuck it. Katsuki leaned down, nuzzled into him again, let his lips pass over his curly green hair. Pressed in closer still, mint chocolate chip overtaking him, lips brushing his forehead.
Katsuki had done a lot to be proud of in his life. He'd done a lot to be ashamed of, too. But somehow, those seemed to take a backseat when they were like this, and Izuku was content to just… be. He wasn't anxious or nervous. He was quiet, and as unnerving as it was that his nerd wasn't babbling on about some dorky topic of his, he knew a quiet like this meant he was utterly relaxed, content in the silence, happy to just let it float around them. Katsuki drew little circles into his skin, earning another deep sigh.
Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him.
Agh, shut the fuck up!!
Katsuki had a plan here, dammit! Er, well, steps of a plan. Sure, the details were still a little fuzzy. But he'd find the right words to say to him one day. He could practice them, over and over again like he had his apology all those years ago. But they always felt too rehearsed, foreign to his true feelings. Maybe the moment would strike him just right, and he could pour out his heart, let Izuku finally see all of his inner workings and confessions, weave them together with a finality that no one could argue with, no one could deny. Just one look at Izuku and Katsuki, and, yeah. That made perfect sense.
Kacchan and Deku.
For the rest of their damn lives.
But, fuck, how the actual fuck did people give love so easily? Maybe he should call his hag up, ask how she managed to woo his old man. Or he could go to Eijirou for advice on how he'd finally gotten Mina to settle down, but that would be too fuckin' embarrassing. Plus, all of those people had been making fun of Katsuki's crush for years now, and he always shut them down, telling them he had a plan, a fuckin' amazing plan. A romantic plan to end all stories and novels, to put everything once thought the peak of affection and endearment to shame.
The idea of saying the wrong things, of not expressing every single fuckin' painful ounce of love he had for Izuku felt agonizing. Katsuki was two steps away from tearing himself to shreds, but—maybe the words were deep within him? Hell, he'd died for the nerd, had re-started his own heart just to keep chasin' after him until the end of time, so maybe the answers were within him all along. He just had to look inward, however the fuck that was possible, just dive in there somehow and tear all the words out if he had to.
He fuckin' had to.
Would do anything for his damn nerd.
His Freckles.
"I like you too, Kacchan."
Bump-bump.
Fuck.
Well.
Katsuki knew that. Logically, he knew that. It didn't stop his heart from speeding up too fast. Didn't stop his palms from getting sweatier, hands fidgeting as he tried to not accidentally set off his quirk in his giddiness.
And there it was, wasn't it? This moment he'd been waiting for?
Izuku, who always knew how to read him, knew how to give him love perfectly in a way that felt as natural as breathing, gave him this lovely, perfect in. All he had to do was say it back, take that first step. Surely, once he echoed that simple, monumentous thought, all the rest would click into place. Words tumbling out of him, babbling at him like the nerd himself. He'd trip over them surely, risk making a fool of himself or falling flat on his face, but… he'd land on his feet in the end, wouldn't he?
I like you too, Nerd.
I love you.
The words were on his lips, begging to be released. Only now it wasn't a serpent, coiled and dangerous, but the soft weight of his favorite blanket. It promised reassurance, a safe place to land, a warm bed and cuddles at the end of the day paired with a sweet goodnight kiss. The words were right there, and maybe they could be enough, because they were always waiting, had been ready for fuckin' years, and yet—
"'Course you do, nerd. I'm the best."
What the fuck, Katsuki.
Izuku just giggled. Nuzzled into his chest more, like he'd been waiting for Katsuki to say those exact words instead of what he truly meant. Because he was fuckin' perfect, and he'd likely wait forever until Katsuki got his shit together. His cheeks felt hot, like when Icy Hot used his flames too close to him, entire body suddenly uncomfortable as it warned with him to remedy the situation, turn it back to what it was before.
He wondered how the nerd was able to do it. Place so much love upon him, but not make it overbearing. It didn't press down on his shoulders, didn't loom over him like a shadow. It just looked. Looked, like it always had, ever since they were kids.
Warm. Soft and smooth. Right.
Katsuki couldn't even describe it. If he did, he'd try to bottle it. Keep it forever, protect it like some fantastical dragon would his treasure. He'd study it, replicate it, put his own twist on it, then bottle that, too, except tie it with a ribbon this time for when he gave it to his love.
Would Izuku like it? Would it feel warm and soft to him? Katsuki was all sharp edges, burning pops that were loud enough to scar, and he was always so afraid he'd burn him. He knew he tended to get carried away, could lose control in fits of passion.
He never wanted to hurt Izuku again.
He wouldn't.
The idea felt wrong, impossible, especially now as the sun danced through those curtains they hadn't pulled all the way shut last night. The bed was large, and Katsuki was too warm, but Izuku seemed like he didn't want to be anywhere else than on top of him like this.
"Can we get breakfast soon?"
"It's lunchtime, nerd."
Katsuki could hear his pout. "But I want pancakes."
He chuckled, ran a hand through green curls. "Anything you want, Freckles. You want chocolate chips in 'em again?"
Izuku wriggled excitedly, turning his head to beam up at Katsuki. His breath caught, just lodged itself there in his throat, rendering him utterly useless. And there's that blank screen again, that empty paper begging to be filled, the words bubbling up and gone again.
Bump-bump.
"Yes please," he smiled. Warm. "Kacchan takes such good care of me."
He said it in that same earnest way he always spoke his praise in. The same tone he had when he sighed out, Kacchan's amazing. Katsuki should've been used to it, should've seen it comin' a fuckin' mile away.
But still, his eyes burned.
Izuku just kept smiling up at him. Like he was lookin' at the whole world.
Katsuki believed him. It was so easy to when his eyes held him like that.
Safe.
"I do?" he asked, voice breaking off as he spoke.
"Of course," Izuku answered instantly, bringing a hand up to brush his knuckles along Katsuki's scar on his cheek. He leaned into it, couldn't help it. "You always do."
Not true.
"And whatever mean words your mind is telling you isn't true," Izuku assured him. Because not only was he perfect, but he was also a fuckin' mind reader, always easing Katsuki's worries before they could get too out of hand.
And there it was.
Lingering tension vanishing, like water drifting down a stream.
Worries and fears, what if's all falling away, like his dirty hero costume at the end of a long day.
Piece by piece.
He drifted, let himself float into that warm headspace, Izuku.
No room for fears here.
There was no need. Not with that smile makin' him feel as gooey and soft.
Kiss him.
Katsuki had a plan—
A plan, dammit…
"I love you," he said.
I love you.
A smile. Warm and open, basking in it. Cheeks turning pink, freckles brighter than the damn stars. And green. Endless green, emeralds in the sun.
"I know you do," Izuku whispered.
Katsuki choked on his tears. His damn nerd.
"I love you too," Izuku said, and leaned up. Nose to nose, just gazing at each other. The whole world. Nothin' else. "But Kacchan already knew that. Didn't you?"
He laughed wetly, his own tears streaming like damn waterfalls. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Of course I did."
"Good," Izuku said. Katsuki could feel his exhale on his lips, right there…
Fuck the plan.
Katsuki leaned in, and kissed his damn nerd.
It wasn't so scary, after all.
Love.
Because he always knew Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki always knew love.