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Chapter Text

Really, this is the most fun Izuku thinks he's ever had.

Class 3-A has been allowed a very well deserved break. There's been talk among their teachers about them working too hard. There are fears of burnout and things like stress induced illnesses. And Izuku can understand that. He sees the nearly zombified looks of exhaustion that plague his friends, and he wholeheartedly agrees with their teachers' fears.

They've been through so much over these past few years, and graduation is rapidly approaching. Once they're full time pro heroes, they'll barely have time to breathe, let alone relax. They're very sought after, and requests from agencies have already started rolling in. And after a flurry of 18th birthdays and being considered "real adults", they're all feeling apprehensive about crossing over into the so-called "real world". 

Izuku doesn't really feel different, being 18, and he knows that Katsuki and all of their other classmates with early birthdays agree. He's sure the reality of being a full fledged adult will kick in after graduation, but until then, it feels like an arbitrary sort of thing, and their stress levels are only mounting. 

Kaminari passed out in his lunch two days ago, and no one had even laughed. There was only an awkward hush at their tables, and a silent agreement that it could have been any one of them. 

So a secluded cabin had been reserved. One large enough to accommodate the entire class, plus Shinsou. He's a well deserved addition to their roster, in Izuku's opinion. He's more than proven his talent and drive, and he slides into their dynamic as though he's been there since day one. 

The cabin would be camouflaged for weeks by the quirk of a newcomer to the Hero Commission in preparation. If someone were to look at something affected by this illusion quirk, their eyes would simply glaze over it as though it didn't exist. The cabin and its grounds will exist as one huge blind spot to anyone outside of the quirk's range. Izuku has heard murmurs of purchasing these grounds for future use as safehouses. 

Villains couldn't look for something they weren't aware existed. The grounds would be thoroughly monitored by a handful of their teachers staying in the neighboring cabin. The teachers were there for supervision, but Izuku suspected it was also for a break of their own after dealing with the chaos that clung to their positively cursed students. 

Aizawa had informed them during homeroom a month ago, and no one had dared to be hopeful that it wouldn't turn into a last minute training exercise. They had collectively held their breaths, waiting for the catch. Aizawa had just sighed and handed out their permission slips, before grumbling at them, "Relax, this is supposed to be for your benefit."

The weeks leading up to the trip have been tense. No one talks about it very much, as though they're afraid to jinx themselves. Maybe if they get too excited to go, it'll be canceled. 

The last homeroom before their trip feels like a funeral. No one talks, they barely look at each other aside from quick glances. They just wait for Aizawa to come in, desperately fearing bad news. 

Aizawa takes two steps into the classroom, stops abruptly, and swears under his breath. 

"You're all going to be the death of me, you know that?" he grumbles, "You're still going. Knock it off." 

Their collective sigh of relief can be felt across the whole campus. In his office, Nezu's ears twitch. 

They spend most of their day going over ground rules and protocol in case something goes wrong. There's a long list of things that they are specifically not to use their quirks for, lest they bring a disaster down upon themselves. 

Izuku will give his teachers credit, they're really covering their bases here. They've thought of uses for their quirks that even he hasn't considered. Judging by the startled looks on his classmates' faces, they hadn't thought of them either. His fingers itch to take notes. 

Shouto raises his hand slowly. 

Aizawa frowns, "Whatever it is, you cannot do it and I will be adding it to the list." 

Shouto puts his hand down. 

The mood is considerably brighter than when they'd gotten to class, but Izuku can still feel apprehension clouding the air. He can't say he's not nervous himself. Trouble seems to find them wherever they go. It hasn't found them in a while. It seems overdue, but it's also helped them to relax. Only by a hair, though. 

The thing Izuku is more concerned about, though, is being secluded with Katsuki for the duration of their trip. 

It's not because he thinks they'll end up trying to kill each other. That's far in the past. 

No, Izuku's current problem is how strange things are between the two of them. The difference from now to middle school is like night and day. It feels like a different lifetime. 

There might have been a time when Izuku was afraid of Katsuki. When he knew that even looking in Katsuki's direction would be the worst mistake that he could be unlucky enough to make all day. It sits heavily between them, weighing on the back of Izuku's tongue. He itches to talk about it. He'd forgiven Katsuki a long time ago, but that doesn't stop him from wanting to understand what Katsuki has been feeling.

Now... They have a tentative sort of bond. Halfway to rivals, and somewhere a little closer to where they'd started all those years ago. Izuku can tell that Katsuki is trying to make up for what he's done, in his awkward, stilted, would rather curl up and die before he says the words "I'm sorry" sort of way.

He makes sure Izuku eats after his morning runs. He reminds Izuku to stop training to catch new hero documentaries, and even stranger, they watch them together. Izuku's favorite tea is somehow always in the dorm's kitchen cupboard, even when Izuku is sure he forgot to buy more.

Katsuki shows him, through actions, and stupid "This doesn't mean anything," or, "I bought this accidentally, just take it," gifts (that just so happen to be Izuku's favorite foods or drinks or pro hero merch), that he remembers. Katsuki never really stopped paying attention, not even for a second. Everywhere Izuku turns, he sees that. 

Izuku had missed him. He hadn't realized just how ragged of a hole Katsuki had left in him until they started to stitch it up again. He hopes that maybe Katsuki had missed him too. 

Their time at UA had softened him more than Izuku had thought possible. 

Izuku can't get Katsuki out of his head, lately. Every interaction, no matter how small or insignificant, plays over and over on a loop. 

Like the time that Katsuki had replaced his only missing All Might figure under the guise of accidentally ordering the wrong one. Funnily enough, Katsuki had been the one who had broken it in the first place. Back when they had been young enough that Izuku still tried, and Katsuki had still been angry. 

It had always been too expensive for Izuku to justify buying another. But just a few weeks ago Katsuki had marched up to him, shoved it at his chest, new in box, and stalked away without a word. Izuku had only cried for an hour over it. 

One occasion that Izuku holds particularly close to his heart is the time Katsuki had spent hours helping Izuku train to perfect a new move. Frankly, it was flashy and a little ridiculous, and he'd have a much easier time getting it right if he'd just modify it a bit, but he had gotten stubborn and insistent. Katsuki had coached him through it, watching for his mistakes, telling him exactly how to twist and where to focus his momentum. They'd been in the gym until well past 3am, running it again and again until Izuku finally got it down. 

Katsuki had punched his shoulder and grinned so wide it was nearly feral. And if Izuku hadn't been so tired, he might've sworn there had been pride in that smile. They'd stumbled back to the dorms together, shoulders bumping, exhausted but accomplished. They were both half dead the next day, but Izuku felt like it was worth it. 

And damn it, Katsuki talks to Izuku now. He doesn't talk AT him, and he doesn't talk down to him. What's more, Katsuki listens . He's still gruff and coarse and blunt, but nothing is going to change that. Izuku has gotten very good at decoding Katsuki's swear laden vocabulary. But he's quiet, and attentive, and he's so thoughtful when he wants to be. 

Izuku no longer takes offense to Katsuki's short temper. He doesn't mean what he says. And he doesn't always say what he means, not when it comes to the serious stuff. He has no idea how to be vulnerable, and he hides behind swears and insults that tumble out of his mouth unthinkingly. 

But even so, there are moments that catch Izuku off guard. Moments where Katsuki softens and loosens. He smiles, and they joke, and he's honest. Moments where Izuku swears that if he were just a little braver, he could toe the line and get Katsuki to open up. It's so tempting.

Izuku has no idea what to make of him when he's like this. He's been outside of Katsuki's bubble for so many years of their lives. Is this what it's like to be let back in?

What is this trip going to be for them? 

Will it be anything at all? 

He feels a little silly, thinking that a vacation will do something to drastically change their relationship, but there's something nagging in the back of his mind.

Something that pokes and prods when they're in a room together, that thickens the air and makes his skin tingle. 

He can't quite seem to untangle it. 

But then, things have always been complicated where Katsuki is concerned. 

Izuku sleeps very little that night. 

Chapter Text

Eventually, the morning of their departure comes. They gather to board their bus just before the sun comes up. Izuku is so groggy that he can't even fully open his eyes. Most of his classmates don't seem to be in any better shape than him. 

Iida is far too loud and much too coherent for any of their liking. He barks instructions for boarding the bus and storing their belongings in the most efficient manner. Sero threatens to tape his mouth shut. Iida's resulting glare is enough to kill a man. 

By some cruel twist of fate, and no lack of orders from Iida that absolutely do not get followed, Izuku ends up sharing a seat with Katsuki. 

He hovers next to the seat nervously for a moment, not wanting to disturb Katsuki too much. He looks worse off than Izuku. There are dark bags under his eyes, and his mouth is pulled down in more of a frown than usual. Has he been worrying about something? His eyes flick to Izuku.

"Jesus, just sit the fuck down," he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and staring very intently out the window. 

Izuku sits gingerly. Truthfully, he's still not used to being in close proximity to Katsuki. Yes, they spend much more time together than before, but at a respectable distance. 

Not like this. Not on a seat almost too small to contain both of them, where he's sure that their knees will bump together over every pothole in the road. 

It puts Izuku on edge for a reason he can't quite put a name to. 

They sit silently for a few minutes while Aizawa does a head count and confirms that all of their belongings made it onto the bus. 

Then they're off. 

He shows Katsuki a few articles on his phone, just updates about new heroes whose progress they've been following. It's something that they do nearly every day. 

It's stilted and awkward at first. Hell, Katsuki is almost pressed against the wall of the bus. But as they talk, Katsuki loosens up. He leans in to get a better look at Izuku's phone. He reaches out to scroll back up to parts of the article that he wants to discuss, tapping at the screen for emphasis. Their shoulders bump together, but neither of them move. 

They're really into it, clicking through headline after headline. 

"She's the perfect rescue hero," Izuku says excitedly, scrolling through one article's gallery of photos. 

"The fuck she is! She's going to get someone fuckin' killed. Her quirk is way too unstable," Katsuki counters, flicking back a picture and jabbing at the screen. 

"Oh and yours isn't ?" Izuku snorts. 

"I'm a fuckin' combat hero, moron," Katsuki knocks their shoulders together, "And like you have any room to talk." 

"At least I didn't destroy an entire floor of an apartment complex last week," Izuku raises his eyebrows at Katsuki. 

"There wasn't anyone in it!" Katsuki is indignant, frowning harshly, "It wasn't even a real fucking apartment building!" 

"Well if it were ," Izuku drags the word out for emphasis, grinning, "You'd be wanted for mass murder right now." 

Katsuki ignores that, rolling his eyes and looking back down at Izuku's phone, "I don't know why that agency even took her. She's a fuckin' liability." 

Izuku shrugs, "Sometimes you have to take a risk and see if it pays off," he says thoughtfully. 

He's met with silence, and he blinks, looking up at Katsuki. 

Katsuki is closer than he'd expected, mere inches from his face. It roots Izuku in place. 

Katsuki's eyes are dark and pensive, glinting in the light. 

"A risk, huh?" he murmurs. 

The quiet rumble of his voice fills Izuku's chest. 

He doesn't breathe. 

The bus goes over a pothole the size of the Grand Canyon, and Izuku is lifted fully out of his seat. Katsuki swears violently next to him. There are yells of surprise around them. 

They settle back in their seats, all of the intensity of the previous moment lost. 

Izuku clears his throat, smoothing down his shirt unnecessarily. 

Katsuki is red in the face. 

"Ah, well uh," Izuku holds up his phone, gesturing awkwardly with it. 

Katsuki just nods, lips pressed into a thin line. 

They finish discussing the article they had been looking at, a bit subdued and at a much farther distance.

There it was again. Another little piece of Katsuki that Izuku can't make sense of. What is he supposed to do with a look like that? With the softness in Katsuki's voice? 

Unfortunately for Izuku, car rides have a tendency to knock him out. There's a soft stream of background noise from their classmates chatting quietly. The rumble of the bus underneath him is comforting. Katsuki radiates heat. It's a nearly perfect storm. He's so tired. Izuku leans his head back on the seat. He'll just close his eyes for a few minutes. Maybe it'll be easier to think afterward. 

Izuku wakes up with something warm pillowed under his cheek. Despite the crick in his neck, he's comfortable, if not a little disoriented. 

He blinks a few times, thoroughly confused, and raises his head. Ah, he's on the bus, and that's Katsuki's shoulder. 

That knocks any residual sleepiness right out of him. Izuku bolts upright, a stream of apologies ready to flood out of him immediately.

This has got to be demolishing about a dozen of Katsuki's boundaries. Izuku would consider Katsuki his best friend, sure. He knows he can count on Katsuki to have his back, and that Katsuki is understanding of all of his emotional outbursts, but he'd never dare to do something as bold or as intimate as fall asleep on Katsuki's shoulder. 

Katsuki is red up to his ears with what Izuku can only assume is anger. Why hadn't he thrown Izuku off or woken him up the moment he had fallen asleep on him?

Izuku doesn't get the chance to apologize. The bus comes to an abrupt stop and Izuku nearly falls out of his seat. 

Aizawa emerges from his sleeping bag momentarily, and Iida is prompt in giving instructions for unloading their suitcases and disembarking the bus. 

Katsuki avoids catching Izuku's eye.

Worry bubbles up in Izuku's stomach. It's only tempered by the realization that Katsuki hadn't yelled at him. But then the question of why he hadn't only throws Izuku into more of a panic. 

Well, it seems that they're off to a bad start on this trip. 

~~~~~~

The cabin is beautiful. It's secluded and luxurious and definitely one of the nicest places that Izuku has ever set foot inside. Aizawa may have been exaggerating just a bit in referring to it as a cabin. It looks more like an upscale forest retreat for the incredibly wealthy. 

The grounds are immaculately landscaped. There are flower gardens leading up to the large wooden front door. The common area is dotted with couches and squashy armchairs. The TV mounted on the wall is bigger than it has any right to be.

There's a large patio area in the back, sporting a huge inground pool and diving board. Sliding glass doors lead into a frankly enormous indoor kitchen that looks to be stocked with enough food to feed an army. 

There are enough bedrooms that they can double up for company, force Mineta in a room to himself, and still have one to spare. The beds look like they'll provide Izuku with some of the best sleep of his life. Each room has its own blindingly white bathroom. 

With every room they walk into, Uraraka looks more and more like she might cry out of sheer joy. 

There's an entire game room in the basement, and that's when Izuku thinks he may need to sit down. 

"Sensei?" he asks as Aizawa shows them around, "Are you sure we're in the right place?" 

Aizawa just shrugs, hands deep in his pockets and looking like he wants nothing more than to retire to the teacher's cabin for a month-long nap. "Why wouldn't we be?" he asks. 

"This is just..." Izuku trails off. 

"Midoriya," Aizawa says quietly, eyes suddenly sharp, "Just this once. For me, for your classmates, for your mother- hell, for All-Might, try to relax. Try not to be the problem child. Don't do anything stupid," he softens slightly, shoulders slumping, "Just enjoy yourself. God knows you've all been through enough lately." He says that last bit mostly to himself. 

Izuku shuffles his feet a bit, feeling a flush creep up his neck, "I'll try, sensei." 

"Well," Aizawa stands in the front of the cabin at the end of their tour, "your other teachers and myself will be checking on you periodically to make sure you haven't killed each other. If you need us, we're only in the next cabin over. There's a panic button in every room." 

The entire class shifts uncomfortably at that. 

"Try not to use them," Aizawa says dryly. 

He turns to leave, and then stops. "Behave yourselves." There's a threat hidden in there, and Izuku is sure that no one wants to be the one to call it.

Izuku hopes that, for once, nothing weird happens to him. 

~~~~~~

It's mid-afternoon by the time everything is said and done, so they decide to hunt for some quick food in the kitchen and then discuss their room arrangements over dinner. 

By the punishment of God, Izuku and Katsuki are paired to share a room. 

He finds out that everybody else has claimed someone while he was asleep on the bus. There is absolutely no way to go about trying to change their arrangements without looking like a weirdo or a total jerk. 

And there's no reason that he should want to change rooms. Katsuki is his best friend after all. 

And Katsuki obviously hadn't protested it either. 

He glances in Katsuki's direction, fidgeting nervously with the handle of his suitcase. They haven't slept in the same room since they were five, and things were very different back then. 

They weren't in this awkward place of being recently patched up friends and Izuku wasn't so unsure of himself. 

Izuku takes a deep breath and tells himself that things are going to be fine .

They don't do much else that day. Everyone looks like they need a nap more than anything else, and they still need to unpack. Their numbers dwindle as his classmates retire to their rooms. 

Izuku approaches Katsuki cautiously, and clears his throat, "I guess we should, um, go get settled?"

Katsuki wordlessly gets up from the couch, grabs his bags, and they climb the stairs together. 

They unpack silently. It's almost unbearably tense. Is he still upset about what happened on the bus? 

Izuku showers first, and drops into bed as soon as he's done. Katsuki emerges from the bathroom after some time, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. 

He's clad in sweatpants and a loose black shirt, feet bare. He looks soft and sleepy, lit only by their bedside lamps, and something about the whole scene feels so domestic. Izuku's stomach is in knots over it. He hasn't seen Katsuki like this in such a long time. 

Katsuki climbs into his own bed. Izuku lays on his back. He feels like he should say something, just to make sure. He doesn't know what he's making sure of. That Katsuki doesn't hate him? That he's not mad about earlier? That he's not angry that they have to share a room?  

Katsuki sighs heavily, and drags his hands down his face.

"I can hear you thinking from over here. You need to relax or I'm going to fucking kill you," he bites out. "What the fuck is your problem?" 

Izuku has no response for a moment. He doesn't know why he's so nervous. He hasn't been this nervous around Katsuki in years. Is this all stemming from the bus ride? Is he that nervous about screwing things up between them? He's overthinking this, isn't he? 

Sure, he's been worried about their newly recovered friendship, and he's worried about overstepping and pissing Katsuki off. But usually he can brush that aside and just act like he's a human being. 

And what's more, he can hear the sincerity in Katsuki's question, and that somehow makes this all the more important to get right. Izuku just stares at the ceiling with wide eyes. 

Katsuki props himself up to look at Izuku across the nightstand. 

Izuku is smacked in the face with a pillow a minute later. He sputters indignantly and bolts up, ready to throw it back. 

"Knock it off, idiot," Katsuki says, low and serious and looking Izuku directly in the eye, "Everything is fucking fine . Everything is fine." 

There's an unspoken "We're fine," hiding in that second reassurance. And that, coupled with the knowledge that Katsuki hasn't ever lied to him, does a lot to ease Izuku's nerves. 

He wonders when Katsuki had become such a soothing presence in his life. It runs so counter to his abrasive personality that it's almost comical.

Izuku has been overthinking things to a horrific extent all day. Three words from Katsuki lays that all to rest. He makes it a non-issue without even trying. 

Katsuki flops back onto his back. 

Izuku does the same. 

"Thanks, Kacchan," he whispers after a moment. 

"Shut up," Katsuki whispers back.

Izuku smiles. 

They're fine. 

Chapter Text

Izuku is woken up abruptly the next morning by his blankets being ripped off of him entirely. 

He screams, flailing to defend against whatever had attacked him. 

He goes into fight or flight mode immediately, green lightning crackling around his fists. 

He blinks, looking around blearily for the threat. 

Katsuki stands at the end of his bed, holding all of his blankets. He has the audacity to look amused.

Izuku drops his arms back to his sides. 

"Kacchaaaaaaan," he whines, "Why would you do that?" 

Katsuki balls up his comforter and tosses it at his head, "Get the fuck up," he demands. 

"Whyyyyyyyy," Izuku wails from beneath the pile of blankets on his face. 

There's a beat.

"I'm bored," Katsuki says. 

Izuku tosses the blanket off himself and sits up, "You're bored," he says incredulously. 

Katsuki nods, slow and infuriating, a lazy smirk creeping across his face, "Yep." 

Izuku just stares at him, mouth open in shock. He drags his hands down his face.

"What time is it?" Izuku asks, resigned to his fate. 

"Seven," Katsuki tells him, tapping his foot impatiently. 

Izuku groans again, flopping back down onto his pillow, "Is there breakfast?" he asks from behind his hands. 

"There will be after we run. The fuck do you take me for?" Katsuki assures him. 

Izuku rolls out of bed, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He nearly faceplants when he tries to take his first step. Katsuki snorts. Izuku glowers at him. 

He follows Katsuki down to the basement gym. 

Once Izuku is feeling more alive, he's not upset that Katsuki had woken him up. He's a little miffed at the way Katsuki had gone about it, but that's neither here nor there. He really couldn't have expected anything different. 

And anyway, he can't help but feel a little pleased that Katsuki had wanted his company enough to specifically wake him up to spend time with him. It feels good. 

The gym is huge, and Izuku is definitely going to check out all of the different machines at some point during their stay.. 

For now, he and Katsuki head over to the treadmills that line the far wall, picking two next to one another. 

They start at a walk, lazily plodding along to warm up. 

Izuku still isn't quite awake enough to strike up a conversation, but their silence is comfortable. 

After a few minutes, Katsuki ups his speed. 

Izuku turns his speed up to match. 

Katsuki ups his incline moments later. 

Izuku shrugs, and turns up his incline as well. 

Katsuki glances over at him, and then raises his speed to a power walk. 

Izuku knows a challenge when he sees one. He frowns, and moves on to a jog. 

Katsuki's speed turns into a run, and he ups his incline even more. 

Izuku turns his machine up even higher without flinching. 

Katsuki glares at him, and Izuku just smiles, wide and toothy and innocent. 

Katsuki growls. 

Soon, they're both running at breakneck pace, incline up as high as it can go. 

Neither of them has said a single word, but they keep trading glares. The treadmills whirr, loud and strained.

It feels like they've been running for hours. Izuku thinks his legs are going to fall off. But he's determined to beat Katsuki and he's not about to quit now. He's not sure which of them has more stamina, but they're about to find out.

At least, that's what he thinks. That idea goes to hell when Katsuki suddenly turns and fires off an explosion in his direction. 

Izuku shrieks, and goes flying off the back of his treadmill, landing in a heap a few feet away. 

He's back on his feet in an instant, lunging toward Katsuki. 

"That wasn't fair, Kacchan!" he shouts. 

"Cry me a fucking river, Deku!" Katsuki leaps away, dodging Izuku's tackle and firing off another explosion for good measure. 

Izuku catches him before he can hit the stairs, arms winding around Katsuki's waist to send them both sprawling on the ground. 

"God," Katsuki huffs, breath knocked out of him, "Fuck!" 

Hearing that does stupid things to Izuku's heart, but he doesn't have any time to consider what that means. Katsuki lands a knee to Izuku's stomach, and that gives him the chance to flip them. Izuku's back hits the ground hard. 

They grapple uselessly, grabbing at wrists and ankles and throwing dirty punches. Katsuki gets an elbow to the jaw and Izuku takes a jab to the ribs. 

Izuku ends up on his back again, gasping for breath. His legs are immobilized by Katsuki's weight. He flails his hands weakly, and they're quickly pinned above his head. There's a smoking palm aimed at his throat. 

They're both breathing hard. Katsuki leans over him, warm and heavy. 

It's so familiar, the same way most of their other fights have ended. 

But it's different. It's so different. His skin is buzzing, the air is thick with tension. 

Izuku stares up at him. He can't help the way his eyes skim over the lines of Katsuki's shoulders, how they catch on the rise and fall of his chest and the ripple of his bicep when he flexes his hand. 

Katsuki's eyes widen. He sucks in a deep breath. Izuku swears that he leans closer. 

Anticipation floods through Izuku's stomach, jittery and hot. He can't seem to catch his breath. 

Katsuki rolls off of him, flopping into the floor next to him. 

Izuku blinks up at the ceiling, trying to understand the disappointment that blooms in his chest. 

Breakfast is a mostly quiet affair. Nobody is awake yet, so it's just the two of them. 

Neither of them mention what happened in the gym. 

~~~~~~

It's two days into their little excursion, and Izuku thinks that everyone is still afraid to relax enough to believe that this is real. 

They're having fun, exploring the endless rooms and amenities, but it's tentative and stalled. It's been so long since they've had time off, from school, from work studies, from villain attacks. They have no idea what to do with themselves. 

Mina, obviously feeling suffocated by this atmosphere, finally flops over the back of a couch and groans loudly, "This is so not cool. Everyone's all weird." 

She gasps suddenly, and somersaults over the back of the couch. When she lands, she points at the sliding glass patio door. Following her hand, Izuku can see outdoor furniture and the glassy surface of the pool outside. 

"I know!" she exclaims, "A pool party! Oh we have to! It would be so much fun!" She shakes Kaminari's shoulders for good measure. 

There's a murmur of agreement around the room, and everyone looks to their class representatives for guidance. 

Momo glances at Tenya, and strokes a nervous hand down her ponytail, "Well, I don't see why not. We're supposed to be relaxing, right?" 

Tenya nods, surprising everyone in the room, "Indeed," he looks thoughtful, "This won't benefit anyone if we come out of it just as stressed as before! We will have wasted our time. Does everyone have their swimsuits?" 

Mina's delighted squeal has a good chance of breaking the sound barrier. Denki is nearly a blur with how quickly she shakes him. 

The details are nearly lost in the resulting flurry of excitement and movement, but Izuku manages to catch them. 

They'll plan on having their party the following night. Mina seems to have ignited Momo's too-much gene, and now her eyes sparkle with delight as she tells Iida about all the things she can make to entertain everybody. 

Satou is already planning desserts with Ochako's enthusiastic input. 

Shouto is being commissioned as an outdoor fire starter and firework lighter. 

Kyouka has volunteered herself, with the help of Fumikage, to curate their party music. 

There's a quiet debate between Tsuyu, Shoji, and Shinsou in the corner over whether or not it would be ethical to use Shinsou's brain-washing quirk to order Mineta to stay in his room for the entire night. 

Mina has moved on now to trying, what seems to be unsuccessfully, to convince Katsuki to help cook their dinner for the night. 

"Get fuckin' lost! Like I'd cook for you bunch of losers," Katsuki bats her hands off his arm, explosions popping menacingly in his palms. 

Mina is undeterred. "Ohhhhh, I get it," she smiles slyly and throws a wink at Kirishima, who is immediately on board for whatever bullshit Mina is about to pull. "Afraid your food won't be good enough for us?" 

Kirishima taps his chin in mock thoughtfulness, "Yeah, I guess it's possible we won't like it," he muses, "I mean, there was that time with the curry-" 

"That was because you're all fucking weak," Katsuki spits, "That curry was fucking awesome." 

Denki leans around Kirishima, "Dude, I was in Recovery Girl's office for like, four hours." 

Sero simply pats his back, nodding sympathetically. 

Izuku snorts despite himself, and Katsuki's eyes snap to him, eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly. Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth. 

"I didn't really see what the problem was with that curry," Shouto says quietly from his seat next to Izuku. 

Mina clicks her tongue impatiently, "Yeah, well you can probably breathe fire, so your opinion doesn't really count here, sweetie." 

Shouto just blinks, touches his fingers to his mouth, and murmurs, "What does that have to do with curry..." 

"Well," Mina keeps instigating, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing dramatically, "I guess we'll just have to find someone else who can make us some decent food." 

"Hey, back the fuck up Pinky," Katsuki snarls, "My food is way better than decent!" 

It's like he doesn't realize that he's only rising to her bait, and Izuku can't help but smile at the way they know exactly which buttons to push. They've figured out how to work around his explosive temper and competitive streak, and harness it to use to their advantage. He's almost been tamed. 

"Weeeelllll, I guess you'll just have to prove it to us tomorrow!" Mina giggles and flounces around the room to gather up the rest of her female classmates, chattering about picking swimsuits for tomorrow. 

Katsuki's answering cry of "Fuck you!" is lost on her. 

The room is much quieter without her. 

Everyone trickles out of the room little by little, until it's only Izuku on one couch, Bakugo on the adjacent one, and Ojiro and Hagakure talking quietly on a loveseat in the corner. 

Izuku glances over at Katsuki. He's got his phone out in his hand and looks to be scrolling through what Izuku recognizes as his favorite recipe blog, but as soon as Izuku's eyes land on him he's asking, "What the fuck is it, nerd?" 

It's really unnerving, how he does that. There's no bite to his words. It's unsurprising, but it's still a reminder of how far they've grown together. Izuku can't help the little pang of affection that blooms in his stomach to watch Katsuki scroll through ideas for what to cook tomorrow.

Katsuki isn't just different with Izuku. To anyone but Izuku, he might seem nearly the same as when they'd started at UA. Angry, mean, absolutely volatile, and certainly not very easy to get along with. 

But Izuku knows better. He sees Katsuki's softened edges. He sees that Katsuki doesn't merely tolerate their classmates. He enjoys their company in a weird way, and he might even go so far as to respect them. 

They're friends, even if Katsuki doesn't know how to reconcile with that, let alone show it. 

And after that first night, Izuku's nerves have calmed considerably. Things between them have been good, if a little strange. It's nice, and Izuku really likes it. He hopes Katsuki does too. 

Izuku smiles, and shakes his head, looking down at his lap. "Nothing," he says, "I'm just happy." 

He misses Katsuki's eyes flicking over to him, and the way they soften. 

"You won't need to try very hard, Kacchan," Izuku says after some time watching Katsuki reject recipe after recipe, "They usually live on instant noodles and energy drinks." 

Katsuki frowns, lips curling unpleasantly. He still doesn't look up, "They're going to die before they hit 25. You think I want to fuckin' enable them?" 

Izuku chuckles. 

His eyes catch on Ojiro and Hagakure again, in their little corner loveseat. Hagakure seems to have curled into Ojiro's lap, judging by the position of her clothes. She's taken to wearing gloves recently, so he can find her hands easily. Ojiro leans into the palm that she places on his cheek, and he smiles. 

It looks nice. Comfortable. He can't help but feel a little wistful. 

"You want something like that?" Katsuki asks.

Izuku jumps, face flushing in embarrassment at being caught watching them. 

He looks back at Katsuki, eyebrows raised.

Katsuki raises his eyebrows in return, but he doesn't take back the question. 

"I guess I never, um-" Izuku struggles for words, "I hadn't given it much thought."

It's a lie, but Katsuki doesn't have to know that. He doesn't think he has the strength to explain that even just a hug might make him burst into tears at this point. 

"Looked like you were giving it a lot of fuckin' thought just now," Katsuki bites out. 

Izuku sinks down in his seat a bit, shoulders hiking up around his ears. "It's not like it matters, right?" he mumbles. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Katsuki asks. 

Izuku doesn't meet his eye, trying to hide under his messy fringe so that maybe Katsuki won't see the way that his eyes glaze over. 

"It's not like anyone is going to want to date me, Kacchan. So it doesn't matter," he says softly. 

And that's why Izuku tries not to give it too much thought. Every time he does, he inevitably ends up with the cold, slightly soul-crushing realization that no one has wanted him, and it's unlikely that anyone ever will. No amount of wanting or hoping or longing will change that. 

"You're a fucking idiot if you think that no one would ever want you," Katsuki snaps, and Izuku is taken aback by the conviction in his voice. 

His eyes snap up to look at Katsuki, wide and disbelieving. 

"Everyone we know thinks you piss gold, idiot," Katsuki bites out, "And have you ever read an article about yourself? Or been on your social media hashtags? Jesus christ, they love you so much it makes me fucking sick." 

"You've been on my social media hashtags?" Izuku blurts out. 

Katsuki blanches a bit at that. He grits his teeth, "That's not the point, you fuckin' moron," he barks. 

"It's different, Kacchan," Izuku shifts uncomfortably, "They don't know me. They just imagine some ideal version of me that would make them happy." 

"I fucking know you," Katsuki nearly snarls, "And I'm telling you that you're a fucking idiot for thinking that." 

Izulu blinks, unsure of how to respond. 

Katsuki bristles, clearly aggravated, "You're a great hero. Everyone wants to be your stupid fucking friend. You can lift a fucking fridge with your bare hands." 

Izuku has never been complimented like this. Definitely not so viciously, and especially not by Katsuki. His heart beats in double time. He clenches his fingers in the blanket thrown over his lap. 

"You're in the top five of our fucking class, for fuck's sake. And who the fuck can even keep up with you when you talk about quirks?" Katsuki gestures frustratedly, "You make people laugh. And then your stupid fucking freckles and your fluffy ass hair. And you're fucking ripped. Just- fuckin'- how the fuck did they call you plain during our first year?" he almost growls. 

Izuku makes a garbled, choked sound. He just stares at Katsuki, uncomprehending. He's absolutely startled, completely bewildered. 

Katsuki had gotten loud. He glances around the room to see if anyone had heard, but Orijo and Hagakure seem to have slipped out while he wasn't paying attention. They're alone.

Katsuki watches him, almost expectant, like he's waiting for a response. He leans forward. 

"Um-" Izuku squeaks out, "Th-thanks? Kacchan?" 

Katsuki blinks, and his shoulders drop. Izuku watches distress bloom across his face. And… is that disappointment? He only catches it for a split second before Katsuki is frowning again, eyebrows furrowing harshly. He stands up suddenly, towering over Izuku. Izuku looks up at him. 

"Stop being a fucking moron," he barks, and then stomps away. 

Izuku watches him go, until he disappears up the stairs. Once he's gone, Izuku collapses against the back of the couch, pressing one hand to his pounding heart. 

That was totally normal, right?

Right. 

Chapter Text

The following day is a flurry of preparation and excitement. Izuku gets roped into helping with what feels like a million different tasks, mostly involving him lifting the things that are too heavy for everyone else. 

He doesn't ask why Shouto made ice sculptures, nor why he had to make them inside, but he carries them out nevertheless. 

The speakers that Momo created weigh more than they have any right to, and she follows him while he takes them outside, apologizing profusely the entire time. 

By the time he's through, Izuku is hot and sweaty and ready to belly flop into the pool face first. He lifts the hem of his shirt and drags the fabric over his face. The weather is way warmer than he'd expected. 

Nobody has asked anything of him for a solid five minutes, so he figures it might be safe to finally sit down. It looks as though everyone else is nearly set up, so the festivities are bound to be underway soon. 

"Deku," comes abruptly from the kitchen, and Izuku nearly groans in frustration before he realizes who it had come from. 

Katsuki is asking for him. Izuku blinks, brow furrowing, but he cautiously steps into the kitchen anyway. 

The kitchen island is nearly overflowing with food, and it all looks absolutely delicious. Just how long had Katsuki been cooking? Izuku doesn't have time to take it all in before Katsuki is shoving a bowl under his nose. 

"Taste this," he commands, pointedly not looking up when he says it. 

Izuku takes it, and the smell hits his nose almost immediately. It outright startles him. 

"Kacchan- wha- is this-?" he stutters out. He's holding a bowl of Katsudon. 

"Don't make a big fuckin' deal over it," Katsuki grumbles, "It's your mom's fucking recipe, and nobody else knows what it's supposed to taste like. Just fuckin'... Fuck off and eat it." 

Izuku's mouth waters at the smell of it. He can tell, even without tasting it, that it's absolutely perfect. No one else's katsu sauce smells quite like his mom's. He moves to pick up his chopsticks, and Katsuki's palm crackles. 

"Are you gonna stand here and fucking eat it? Fuck off out of my way," Katsuki snaps, "All the other idiots are busy outside. There's a whole fucking living room for you to sit in." 

Izuku can't help the grin that pulls at his mouth. For as much as he tries to play it off, Katsuki is terrible at disguising when he's trying to do something nice. Every gesture is so calculated, and Katsuki completely lacks tact and subtlety. 

"Thanks, Kacchan," Izuku murmurs, pulling the bowl closer to his chest, cradling it like something precious.

"Fuck. Off." he hisses, but Izuku swears he sees a flush creeping across his nose. 

Izuku heads back to the living room, and plops down on one of the couches. He takes his first bite of the Katsudon, and tears immediately spring to his eyes. 

It's like being home again. He hasn't had his mom's cooking in what feels like ages. He sighs, shoulders dropping all their tension. 

"Better eat fast, Deku!" Katsuki calls from the kitchen, "You're rounding up all the idiots when you're done."

Izuku huffs a laugh, "Sure Kacchan," he calls back. 

Izuku absolutely demolishes his food, wishing that he had more time to savor it. Maybe if Izuku asks really nicely, or bribes him, Katsuki will make this for him again. 

He sets his empty bowl in the sink, and turns to Katsuki, who is currently leaning against a counter and chewing on something that is way too red to actually be edible. 

"It was really good, Kacchan," he says. 

"You bet your ass it was," Katsuki says shortly around a mouthful of food. 

"Thanks for cooking for everyone. It was really nice of you. I'm sure they're going to love it," Izuku presses on, toeing the line a bit. Katsuki deserves the praise.

"It's not my problem whether they fucking like it not," Katsuki takes a vicious bite from his bowl, "They'd fucking starve otherwise. Or light something on fucking fire."

"Yeah, can't have that," Izuku just shakes his head, and turns toward the door to gather their classmates from outside.

"Deku," Katsuki's voice stops him, quiet in a way that's usually reserved for late nights where they're overtired and closer than they'd usually allow themselves to get. 

Izuku freezes, and turns back around. Katsuki watches him intently. 

Izuku watches Katsuki's gaze sweep over his whole body, from head to toe. Izuku's fists clench involuntarily, feeling too warm and hyper conscious of everything about himself in that moment. Katsuki's eyes come back up to his face, eyebrows twitching downward just for a second. 

He looks like he wants to say something, wearing the same focused, calculating expression that Izuku finds on him in the middle of a fight. 

His shoulders go back, and he grits his teeth. His fingers tense around the edge of the countertop, knuckles white. He's working himself up for something, Izuku realizes. 

This is going to be important. 

Katsuki opens his mouth. 

"You guys!" a voice calls from the doorway, and they both jump nearly out of their skin. 

"The food is ready!" Kirishima is turned to face the patio, hands cupped around his mouth to yell to everyone outside. He turns back with a huge smile that slips a bit when he looks at Katsuki. 

Izuku whips his head back around. There's smoke wafting from Katsuki's hands. He looks caught somewhere between, angry, frustrated, and ready to drown himself. 

Seconds later, there's nearly a stampede into the kitchen. Izuku leans back against one of the counters, as out of the way as possible to give everyone room to load up their plates, and to try to recover from whatever that just was. 

Katsuki is skulking around in a far corner of the kitchen with a sour look on his face, Kirishima on his heels and whispering frantically to him. 

This is bizarre. 

Maybe he'll find out later? 

Looking around at everyone's food, Izuku frowns, brows knitting together. Not one person has Katsudon. He cranes his neck a bit to see the entire island. There is no Katsudon for anyone else to have. 

Izuku swallows hard, and shakes his head, smiling to himself. 

Katsuki is such an idiot. 

~~~~~~

Dinner is an event. Izuku has never seen somebody get so pissed off at being complimented as Katsuki does at everyone's praise of his food. 

His swearing gets more and more imaginative every time someone so much as looks at him. 

It's incredibly amusing to everyone involved. No less than seven people have begged Katsuki to cook dinner every night for the rest of their lives. It's half sincere, and half to see how creatively Katsuki can threaten to kill them. He's all bark, no matter how hard he threatens to bite. 

Soon enough, they're all full and happy, and piling their dishes in the sink. 

Predictably, Mina is the first one sprinting back outside, with Kaminari and Sero right on her heels. 

When they get close to the edge of the pool, Mina grabs Denki by the arm and whips him around in a circle before tossing him bodily into the pool. 

He comes up shrieking about his hair, and grabs Mina by the leg to pull her in with him. Her scream is abruptly cut off when her head plunges underwater. 

From there, it's almost complete chaos. It seems like everyone is finally able to let go. 

Katsuki snorts from beside him, and Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Fuckin' morons," he grunts, and moves to take a seat on one of the wicker armchairs, clearly wanting to seem like he's above having any fun at all. 

Uraraka is the next to slide up beside Izuku. Her hair is up and she's wearing a pink bikini that's frillier than anything else he's ever seen her in. She taps her chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Do you think you could throw Mineta over the entire pool?" she asks, far too loudly for how close she's standing to Izuku. 

Izuku lets out a startled bark of laughter. 

Mineta, who has been distracted with ogling Tsuyu despite her incredibly modest choice of swimsuit, whips around and screeches like he's been shot. "As if I'd let myself be picked up and held by another guy! Are you crazy ?!"

He's off like a shot before either of them can even open their mouths to respond. 

Ochako just shrugs, grinning, "Well, he went away," she giggles. 

Then, she actually looks thoughtful. "Do you think you really could throw someone over the entire pool?" 

Izuku looks at the length of the pool, and hums. "I mean, sure?" 

Uraraka claps delightedly, and grabs Izuku by the arm, dragging him over to the end of the pool opposite the diving board. 

She rubs her hands together, and then stretches her arms out in a T-pose and nods. 

"I volunteer as tribute," she says solemnly.

Izuku looks at her flatly, "You're going to land on the concrete and break your neck."

She wiggles her fingers at him, "Zero gravity quirk, duh," she sticks her tongue out at him. 

"You're just using me for my quirk," Izuku fake pouts.

Ochako fake pouts harder, and Izuku rolls his eyes. "Best friend privileges," she whines, "I wanna fly, Deku!" 

"Fine, but I'm throwing you into the deep end, not all the way across," Izuku concedes. 

He manages to pick her up, one hand behind her thighs and one at her shoulder blades. She curls her arms around her knees and giggles excitedly. She's lighter than he expects another person to be, particularly one so dense with muscle. 

It's surprisingly easy to pick her up over his head and, pausing for a moment to account for trajectory and aim at a spot that contains none of their other classmates, throw her into the pool. Green lightning crackles around his arms. He watches her sail through the air in a compact ball before splashing heavily into the deep end. 

After a brief moment, she resurfaces, whooping and cheering, "Someone else has gotta try that! That was awesome !" 

Predictably, Kirishima is next to him in an instant, "Bro, you have to throw me like a javelin!"

Izuku gapes at him, but Kirishima looks so excited that he cannot possibly turn him down. Kirishima lays on the concrete, and hardens his entire body into one spear-like line. 

It's even easier to pick him up, one-handed even, and send him sailing toward the now vacant deep end of the pool. 

He's somehow even more excited than Uraraka was when he comes back up, and that seems to set the rest of his classmates off. Now Izuku has a line of people who all want to be thrown 50 feet in the air. 

He doesn't necessarily mind. It's not exactly an effort for him. He'd moved things far heavier than any one of them before All Might had even given him One for All. He wonders how they would feel to know that it's only using about half a percent of his quirk. 

Kaminari and Sero are just as excited as the Ochako and Kirishima were. 

They convince Jirou to go next. She screams out an interesting string of swears as she flies through the air and decidedly does not want to do it again. 

Shoji is a little more of a challenge, given his size and extra limbs, but Izuku manages well enough. 

Tsuyu insists on having Izuku crouch down so she can hop onto his palms and push off. She does an elaborate somersault through the air and makes a nearly perfect dive into the water at the end of the pool. Izuku is honestly impressed. 

Mina is almost too excited for Izuku to get a proper grip on her to even throw her, and she squeals so loudly that he thinks he might have hurt her. She comes back three more times after that. 

Shouto goes absolutely limp as soon as Izuku puts his hands on him. It's like throwing a sand bag. He fails through the air like a corpse and stays underwater so long that Izuku worries that he may actually be dead. He floats back up eventually, face up and starfished, and simply says, "Yay," in a complete monotone. 

Izuku laughs so hard that he needs to take a break. He sits on the concrete and swipes at the tears in his eyes. His ribs hurt. He hears Iida fretting and making sure no one has been injured somewhere in the distance. He relaxes for a second, leaning back on his palms. 

Izuku feels eyes on him. He turns his head, and finds Katsuki's gaze fixed on him. Izuku's skin prickles with it. Katsuki hasn't moved from his wicker chair. He leans back lazily, like he can't be bothered by the ruckus around him. He's focused squarely on Izuku, his expression completely unreadable. 

Izuku looks away first, feeling warm and exposed. He knows that Katsuki really has been paying attention to him for their whole lives. Watching and taking mental notes and remembering. But Izuku has never felt it before. Katsuki had always hidden it, never giving Izuku any clue that he was right there. Always pretending to be farther away than he really was. 

This isn't the first time Izuku has caught Katsuki watching him. And then there are moments like the one in the kitchen earlier. Where it looks like Katsuki has something that he desperately needs to say, but can never quite get it out. 

Truthfully, Izuku has been meaning to catch Katsuki alone for a while. They need to talk. He knows that's not something that they do, and that it'll probably be like pulling teeth, but Izuku feels like he's going crazy trying to figure out what all of this is. What all of it means. 

But he's afraid. He's afraid that if he mentions it, this fragile and unknown thing between them will shatter and Katsuki will slip back through his fingers. He'll undo all of the progress that they've made. 

Izuku doesn't think he can handle losing Katsuki Bakugo twice in one lifetime.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, two hands clap down on Izuku's shoulders and drag him to his feet again. Ochako loops an arm around his waist, and cups her free hand around her mouth. 

"Now who thinks they can throw this meathead into the deep end of the pool?" she shouts without warning. 

Izuku's head whips immediately to Katsuki, absolutely alarmed. He feels the color drain from his face when he finds Katsuki already grinning madly at him. It's a complete one-eighty from the carefully crafted disinterest he'd been showing mere moments ago. There's a shared childhood memory here. Katsuki had a habit of throwing people into the pool, and Izuku was his favorite target. 

Izuku frantically disentangles himself from Ochako's grasp. 

"Kacchan, no ," Izuku takes a step back, "Do not ," he pleads. 

But Katsuki is already rising from his chair, "I probably won't drown you," he cackles, and poises to pounce. Had his chair always been so close to the pool?

Izuku's legs crackle with lightning, and he whimpers with the hysterical adrenaline of being pursued. He leaps into the air. He's not sure where he's trying to escape to. The roof, maybe? 

He doesn't account for Katsuki's incredible mobility in the air, nor for Katsuki's ability to predict his every move. He's immediately caught around the waist.

"Better hold your breath, Deku!" he shouts, and then Katsuki is launching him downward toward the deep end of the pool with a vicious explosion. 

Izuku shrieks. He has the sense to hold his breath at the last second. 

He also has the sense to not let go of Katsuki when he tries to throw him, so they both go careening toward the surface of the water. 

Izuku doesn't know which way is up. He claws at whatever is in front of him and flails for the surface. They come up together, sputtering. Katsuki lets out a sound that Izuku can only describe as inhuman, and dunks Izuku under the water again with as much force as he can muster. 

Izuku grabs his legs and tugs , activating his quirk just enough, and Katsuki is at the bottom of the pool. He frantically tries to swim toward the edge of the pool before Katsuki comes back up, but Katsuki catches his ankle and yanks him back. 

Izuku screams, and Katsuki flops onto his back, dragging them both down. 

Izuku knocks him off and resurfaces screaming "Truce! Truce!" he clutches Katsuki's shoulders to try to keep himself above water. 

And Katsuki is laughing . Honest to God laughing in a way that Izuku hasn't seen in years . Izuku can't breathe, and it has nothing to do with how much water he's inhaled. 

The sound fills Izuku's chest, slotting warmly between his ribs and squeezing. It's something he wants to hear more. All the time. Every day for the rest of his life, in fact. What can he do to make it happen again?

There are warm hands on his waist, and he involuntarily digs his fingers into Katsuki's shoulders and just watches him as he stops laughing. His eyes follow beads of water as they slide down Katsuki's neck. 

Izuku realizes suddenly that nineteen identically shocked faces are watching them. They've all completely stopped what they're doing and are taking in the spectacle that is Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo having fun together. 

Izuku abruptly lets go of Katsuki's shoulders and retreats, zipping to the edge of the water and heaving himself up onto the concrete again.

He's spared from the embarrassment of explaining what in the name of all that is holy had just occurred by Ochako shouting that Momo had just successfully made fireworks. While everyone is distracted with ooh-ing and aah-ing, she throws Izuku a very pointed look. She is incredible and Izuku does not deserve her friendship. 

Izuku plants his face in his hands, and sighs heavily. He hears Katsuki climb out of the pool just feet away from him. Izuku doesn't raise his head to look at him. 

"Told you I wouldn't drown you," he huffs. 

What the hell is happening? Katsuki never ever participates in stuff like this unless he's challenged or threatened by pain of death. He hasn't made sense all day. Nothing has made sense today, and it's starting to really get under Izuku's skin.

After a few minutes, it's as though that little fiasco has been forgotten. Izuku drags himself to his feet and tries to wring out his shirt. He's completely drenched.

He feels like a wet dog. And with the sun getting close to setting, there's a slight chill in the breeze that slices right through the wet fabric. It's uncomfortable, and it clings to him, and he knows he'll be warmer if he's not wearing it. 

He's going to have to take his shirt off. The thought coils uncomfortably in his stomach. A roiling pit of anxiety. It's a strange thing to be nervous about for him. It's an objective fact that he's in the best shape of his life. He would have had a much harder time with this if he was still as scrawny as he'd been in middle school. He feels like he should really be proud of himself. 

He picks at the fabric across his chest and glances around. It wouldn't be strange if he took it off. His other male classmates are in varying states of undress. He's at a pool party. 

No, it's not his physique that nags at him. 

Really, he can't get past the scars. 

He hasn't broken his bones over and over and gotten away unscathed. He hasn't been lucky enough to not let any villains leave their mark on him. Every one serves as a reminder. 

Of course, he can't hide his crooked fingers, but he truly doesn't think that anybody here knows the extent of what he's done to himself, or what anybody else has done to him. 

Most of all, he fears what Katsuki might say when he sees. Will he be disgusted? Will he think that Izuku is weak for letting himself get so beat up? Will Katsuki pity him? 

He can already barely handle feeling Katsuki's eyes on him while he's fully clothed. He might spontaneously combust if Katsuki so much as glances in his direction while he's shirtless. 

There's a gentle pressure at his shoulder blade, "Nobody is staring," Ochako says quietly, "and nobody is going to." 

Izuku searches her face for a moment, and finds nothing but sincerity. She pats her own ribs, and he follows the movement to find a raised red line marring the skin there. She smiles encouragingly. 

He swallows, and tugs the shirt over his head before he has a chance to second guess himself. He twists it anxiously in his hands. 

Ochako whistles exaggeratedly, "Not at anything other than those muscles," she hip checks him and winks. 

Izuku snorts out a laugh. 

"Well, you've had someone's attention all day," she remarks, crossing her arms over her chest. He doesn't have to ask who she means. "And all week. And for the past few months. And years. And for your entire life," she breaks off with a snort, looking somewhere behind him, "And right now." 

Izuku flaps his hands at her, heat bleeding across his cheeks. He hunches in on himself a bit. "Knock it off," he hisses. 

"For real though, what is up with you two?" Ochako asks, thankfully more quietly than before. 

Izuku's shoulders slump, "I don't know," he admits. 

"And what was that ?" Ochako gestures vaguely to the pool. Izuku chances a look over his shoulder at Katsuki. He thinks it must be the light playing tricks on him, but Katsuki looks distinctly redder than he did a few minutes ago. And Izuku has never known him to get sunburned, not once in his life. 

"I don't know ," it's more frustrated than he intends for it to come out, and he instantly feels bad about it. 

"Wow," she says thoughtfully, tapping her foot, "You're really beat up about this, huh?" 

"Is it that obvious?" he asks, defeated.

"Oh honey," she pinches his cheek and grins. He swats her hands away. 

"Why don't you just talk to him?" she asks. 

"Ochako," Izuku says flatly, "Look me in the eye and ask me that again."

"Fine, Fine. Fair enough," she rolls her eyes, "But you've gotta do something about it. Plus Ultra, right?" 

Izuku raises his fist weakly, "Plus Ultra." 

"He doesn't hate you," Ochako says insistently, "and he's not going to hate you." 

Leave it to her to know exactly what Izuku is worried about. He just sighs. 

"Ugh, you're way too tense," she claps her hands, "You know what you're going to do?" She takes Izuku by the arm and leads him back to the pool.

"You," she stoops down to pick up a bright blue pool lounger and shoves it at him, "are going to lay down on this, and you are going to float around in this wonderful pool," she points for emphasis, "and you are going to relax ." 

He lets her lead him to the steps into the shallow end. Before he even understands how she's done it, she's taken away his gravity and maneuvered him onto the float. 

She pushes him away and into the pool. 

"Be free," she waves his shirt at him in a goodbye. 

Izuku sighs and slaps a hand over his face. She's a good friend. He does need to relax. Really, he knows they'll be fine. They've been through much worse than whatever the hell this is. And he's sure they'll come out better on the other side. 

But Izuku is a habitual worrier, and he doesn't like uncertainties hanging over his head. He needs answers and explanations to feel balanced. And he has neither answers nor explanations for what's going on right now. 

He briefly considers the benefits of drowning. 

Why does Katsuki have to be difficult? Does he wake up every day and choose to be this way? Izuku turns his head, fully intending to glare at Katsuki until he notices. 

Maybe they can just punch each other until Izuku figures it out. That worked once before. 

He's not upset about the things that are happening between them, he just can't for the life of him sort everything out in his head. He wants to spend time with Katsuki, but that's not any different from the rest of his life. But it frightens him, just how strong the pull toward Katsuki has come to be. 

And he's scared of how much he wants Katsuki to want that too. What if Katsuki is only humoring him because he pities him? Or because he feels bad about their past? Why does that thought taste so acrid? 

For once, Katsuki isn't looking at him already. Kirishima is perched on the arm of Katsuki's wicker chair, talking his ear off about something. Surprisingly, Katsuki looks vaguely interested, and maybe even a little amused. He's paying absolutely no attention to Izuku. 

Izuku blinks. He's spent a lot of time over the course of his life specifically avoiding looking at Katsuki. 

But now, he lets himself look. 

He takes in the curve of Katsuki's back, the strong slope of his shoulders. He's still wearing his tank top, and it clings to the lines of his torso. He moves, and the dying sun glints off his still damp skin. He looks up at Kirishima, and Izuku is nearly mesmerized by the long line of his throat. 

His hair is pushed back out of his face, and that gives Izuku a view of his whole profile. It's sharp, and graceful, and then his lips are curling up in a smirk at something Kirishima says and Izuku's mouth goes absolutely dry. 

He's heard girls talk about Katsuki. He's seen posts on social media and trashy articles on tabloid sites, talking about how handsome he'd be if not for his terrible attitude. About how ugly it makes him. 

He's seen Katsuki up close. He's seen sides of him that the media can never hope to even catch a fraction of a second of on camera. He's been close enough to Katsuki to count his eyelashes, and to memorize the exact shape of a faded scar just above his left eyebrow. 

He's seen Katsuki when he's warm and happy, and when he's tired and irritated. He knows the shape of Katsuki's mouth when he says "Deku", and he can translate the meaning of every single "fuck" that comes out of his mouth. 

Izuku has the very clear thought, that exact second, that everyone else has absolutely no idea what the fuck they're talking about.

Katsuki Bakugo is the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

He feels this with such force that it makes his whole body tense up with how badly it startles him. He's hot all over. His hands tingle and his head spins. 

He needs a drink.

Izuku paddles to the edge, his movements tight and just a bit panicked, and stumbles out of the pool on shaky legs. 

He's sure he'll feel bad about tracking water into the kitchen later, but he can't spare it a thought right now. It's too loud outside. He slides the door closed behind himself with a little more force than necessary.

It's quiet, and dark, and the air conditioning inside feels nice. It works wonders to start to ease his nerves. He just needs to take a second alone to think and get something to drink. He gets himself a cup, fills it to the brim with ice cold water, and proceeds to down it in one go. He looks into the bottom of it, eyes wide. 

"Alright," he whispers, "What the fuck was that?"

Chapter Text

There's a brief burst of noise from the party outside. Izuku sets his empty cup down on the counter, mentally preparing to tell Uraraka that he really cannot talk about this right now. 

He turns to find Katsuki sliding the glass door closed behind himself. 

His hands are balled into tight fists at his sides, and his brows are furrowed. There's something unreadable in his face, in the determination simmering in his eyes. He idles there for a moment, back-lit by the strobe lights Momo had been coerced into making. They flash over him, throwing his features into sharp relief for a split second. Izuku thinks he might see his hands shake. Suddenly, Katsuki is crossing the kitchen in long strides. 

"Ah, Kaccha-", Izuku cuts off with a sharp exhale at the hands that curl around his shoulders. 

He barely has time to take in the heat of Katsuki's palms, broad and calloused on his bare skin, before Katsuki is leaning in, and he's being kissed.

For a moment, Izuku thinks he might pass out. He doesn't move, doesn't breathe, doesn't think. Katsuki's mouth parts from his, just barely.

"Kacchan," Izuku manages to exhale shakily. 

Katsuki's eyes widen, and he hisses out a swear. Then he's on the opposite side of the kitchen island. He pushes his hands through his hair roughly, squeezing at the back of his head. He lets out a low string of colorful expletives. 

"Fuck. I- You dont-" Every part of his stance reads stress, and Izuku knows he intends to run. 

"No!" Izuku interrupts him,  "Wait!" 

Much to his surprise, Katsuki listens. He drops his hands to his sides, shoulders set in a tense line, and he waits. 

At that moment, Izuku's brain finally catches up with what just happened.

Katsuki Bakugo had kissed him.

Katsuki Bakugo is standing in front of him, open and vulnerable and waiting for Izuku to tell him whether or not that was okay.

There are a million things they needed to talk about. Things they need to tell each other and apologize for. Things that need to be fixed between them.

Izuku's feelings choose that moment to kick in. Everything makes sense. Izuku realizes that part of him has always felt this way. It all clicks into place. The admiration, the inability to let go of him, the burning desperation to make Katsuki see him. 

And maybe he has to admit to himself that he's always held out hope for Katsuki to feel the same, despite their past, and despite how impossible it had seemed.

Izuku's stomach explodes in a flurry of butterflies. Katsuki is still waiting. Katsuki is still there.

Katsuki feels the same . He's been trying to show Izuku for months that he does. Izuku's mind races back to every tiny gesture, every quiet moment, every time Katsuki's eyes had been on him. 

It's everything that Izuku had been too dense to pick up on. It had bubbled up for Katsuki, piled on top of itself until he couldn't stand it. So Katsuki had kissed him. 

The idea of being wanted like that nearly chokes him. 

Before Izuku has a chance to think about it, he's around the island, green lightning crackling at his heels. Katsuki is in front of him, and somehow this is more intimidating than anything has ever been before. 

He's close enough to feel the heat rolling off Katsuki's hands. Wisps of smoke curl between his fingers. The smell of burnt caramel wafts up with them. He bleeds apprehension. 

Questions flicker through Izuku's mind, half formed and screaming. And if he knows Katsuki, it's the same for him right now. 

Then it hits him. He does know Katsuki. Better than anybody else. Better than anyone could ever hope to. And Katsuki knows him. Inside and out. Even if he pretends he doesn't. They understand each other. It knocks the wind out of him. 

He's been so stupid. 

Suddenly, it's real. Izuku WANTS this. He wants Katsuki. Katsuki wants him. Katsuki had kissed him, and Izuku wants to kiss him again. 

Izuku raises one shaking hand, and lets his fingers skim the fabric of Katsuki's shirt. He sets his hand against Katsuki's ribs, and tilts his head up to look at him. Izuku feels the hammering of Katsuki's heart underneath his fingers, and watches his face. It belies the nervousness that Izuku can feel. 

He looks quiet. His eyes flit over Izuku's face, and for the first time, Izuku isn't worried about what he might find there.

Izuku has never known Katsuki to be patient. Not ever in his life. But now, he lets Izuku take his time. Katsuki lets him step closer, until they're nearly chest to chest. He doesn't pull Izuku in, doesn't bark at him to get on with it, doesn't even huff in impatience. 

He just lifts a hand to curl around the back of Izuku's arm, to keep the hand at his waist from leaving. It nearly sears his skin, and Izuku can't even tell if it's because of his quirk. 

It occurs to Izuku to wonder. After all these years of keeping people at arm's length, has Katsuki ever wanted to be touched? Has he ever craved it in the ways that Izuku has? When Katsuki's eyes have been on him, has he ever imagined this? 

Katsuki's breath comes out in a hiss when Izuku's other hand meets his waist. Izuku's heart pounds in his ears. Had they always been careening toward this? Was this inevitable? Finally, he leans up and presses their mouths together.

The effect is almost instantaneous. Katsuki's hands come up to his face, fingertips sliding into his hair. His palms cradle Izuku's jaw, and he's far gentler than Izuku could have ever expected him to be. 

His mouth slides over Izuku's, warm and sure. There's no hesitation in the way that Katsuki kisses him. There's something absolutely heart-wrenching about the way that Katsuki holds him. 

A heady heat flows through Izuku's body, nearly buckling his knees, and he pulls Katsuki closer by the waist. Izuku leans into him, pressing them chest to chest. His breath comes out in a whine. 

One hand leaves his face, and Izuku is being lifted. Katsuki sets him on the counter like it's nothing, and steps between his legs. Izuku's hands find his shoulders to steady himself, and then he slides them up to press against Katsuki's cheeks.

Katsuki leans into his palm, just barely, and Izuku feels something that he can only describe as absolute wonder. He's beautiful, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. 

Something bubbles up inside of Izuku's chest, hot and intense and too big for him to hold. It makes him dizzy, His breath hitches, and his fingers shake against Katsuki's face. All he can think to do is pull Katsuki back in to kiss him again. 

He doesn't feel the tears sliding down his cheeks until Katsuki's thumbs are swiping at them. His knees squeeze at Katsuki's waist. 

Izuku thinks that he's ruined the moment. Leave it to him to cry during his second kiss ever.

But Katsuki wraps his arms around Izuku's waist, and eases up. It's less a kiss, and more a brush of their mouths. His fingers are light and warm against the ridges of Izuku's spine. He's sure it's to give him the space to breathe. 

Somehow, that only serves to leave Izuku absolutely breathless. He's awestruck, absolutely dizzy with how much he craves this, and how desperately he doesn't want it to stop.

"Kacchan," he murmurs, almost involuntarily. It's the only word he knows right now. 

Katsuki hums in response. He pulls back, and Izuku nearly chases him.

"You're not supposed to cry, nerd," he huffs, not unkindly. He's not frustrated, but Izuku opens his mouth to apologize anyway.

"Don't," Katsuki stops him before he even gets to speak, "I'd have to be stupid not to expect it."

Of course. Of course . All he can do is stare at Katsuki in amazement. He has no idea how he got here.

Izuku lets his thumb slide across Katsuki's cheekbone, and watches the way his eyes flutter at the touch. 

"Damn," Katsuki whispers, "Fuck. What the hell is wrong with us?" 

Izuku's hands move without his permission, sliding back through Katsuki's hair. It's soft, and it slips through his fingers. "I don't know," he answers dumbly, watching Katsuki's eyes slide closed. He lets his nails graze Katsuki's scalp, and is absolutely entranced by the goosebumps that break out across his arms. 

His touch is doing that. Katsuki is letting Izuku touch him, letting Izuku hold him, and he likes it. It's affecting him.  

"Oh," Izuku murmurs, and Katsuki's eyes open halfway to watch him curiously. His breath nearly gets caught on a sob, "Oh," 

'I love you,' Izuku thinks, 'That's what this is.'

He tilts Katsuki's face back up to kiss him again, quiet and desperate, and he wonders if Katsuki can feel what he just realized. He wonders if it's painted in the shape of his mouth and the tremble of his fingers. 

If it is, Katsuki doesn't mention it.

When he pulls away, he buries his face into Katsuki's neck. Katsuki holds him, and Izuku doesn't have to wonder if he's making a concession over it. He feels Katsuki's shoulders relax, and hears him exhale in relief. 

Izuku wonders when the last time Katsuki had been hugged might've been. Everything about this is surprising. They're crossing boundaries that have been in place for years. How badly had Katsuki needed this?

Izuku has a chance to take it all in, then. He focuses on the warm, strong line of Katsuki's body pressed to his. The curl of Katsuki's arms wrapped around his waist. The fingers that press against his spine. It's almost unreal, how incredible it feels. 

He doesn't want it to end. 

He burrows his face even further against Katsuki's shoulder, and one of Katsuki's hands slides up to cradle the back of his head. There's a distinct change in the air around them, with that. It bleeds into something softer, but no less desperate. 

Izuku wonders how long it'll take for his skin to stop tingling.

When is his heart going to stop pounding? 

This is all so unbelievable. Until a few hours ago, Izuku hadn't dared to consider that his feelings might have led here. And even if he'd realized, he would have never entertained the possibility that Katsuki could reciprocate them. 

But now, he's got Katsuki in his arms. He can feel the rise and fall of Katsuki's chest against his own, a reminder that Izuku isn't imagining this. 

Suddenly, Izuku is giddy. It bubbles up in his chest, warm and light and wholly overwhelming. The smile that curls across his face is completely involuntary, as are the giggles that burst forth moments later. 

He's laughing outright, muffled against Katsuki's shoulder. 

Katsuki pulls back, looking at Izuku like he's lost his entire mind. 

"What the fuck? What?" he asks with a little shake of his head. He looks so honestly confused, and that only makes Izuku laugh harder. He slaps his hands weakly at Katsuki's shoulders, tears springing to his eyes. 

He's so happy . He doesn't know what to do about it. He can't stop laughing for long enough to explain. 

He scrubs the heels of his hands roughly against his eyes, hiccuping through his fading giggles. When he brings them away again, the look on Katsuki's face is unlike any he's seen before. 

It's soft, and fond. He's smiling, gentle and quiet, like he doesn't know he's even doing it. It steals Izuku's breath. He can't believe that he's seeing Katsuki look like that, let alone that it's being directed at him . 

"Cute," Katsuki murmurs. 

Izuku feels his face heat up, and Katsuki hums, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smirk.

Izuku clears his throat, trying to hide behind his hair, fingers tapping nervously at Katsuki's shoulders. He glances toward the door, and squeezes Katsuki's shoulders. 

"Ochako is going to come looking for me if we don't get back out there," he murmurs. As much as he'd like to spend the rest of the night here, exploring this new and incredible thing they've found together, he knows it's true. 

Katsuki frowns, almost petulant, and tightens his grip on Izuku just barely. 

"Fucking Round Face has had you all day," he grumbles. 

But he relents, and steps back. Izuku misses him immediately, and it's so tempting to call him back. 

To call it off and ask him to go back up to their room and climb into bed together. 

To kiss him until he can't remember anything other than the feeling of Katsuki's skin under his hands. 

It's just a touch terrifying, the ferocity of that feeling. But he can recognize now that he's been waiting for this for probably his entire life. He thinks he's allowed to feel a little intensely. 

Izuku makes himself hop off the counter. He smiles at Katsuki, and that's rewarded with fingers curling under his chin, and another absolutely searing kiss. He has to drag himself away and toward the door. 

Katsuki returns to his chair, looking decidedly lighter than he has for the past few days. 

Izuku finds his pool float from before, and flops down onto it. He exhales, and the tension melts straight out of his soul. 

The rest of the night is pleasant. Katsuki catches him staring more than once. All he does is smirk in response, and it doesn't fail to give Izuku butterflies every time. 

There's an incredible spread of desserts from Satou a little later, and before too long, the sun has set and the party is reduced to Class 1-A lounging around tiredly.

Eventually, they have to call it a night. Looking around, they collectively decide that cleanup will be dealt with tomorrow, a decision that will no doubt be wholly regretted by all. 

Izuku follows Katsuki up the stairs. Katsuki waves Izuku toward the bathroom first, and as he steps into the shower, a thought occurs to him. 

He has no idea what comes next. 

At all. 

What does being with Katsuki look like? Is Izuku allowed to touch him? To kiss him?

He's never struck Izuku as the kind of person who's very touchy-feely, what with all the death threats when someone is so much as within two feet of him. 

But Izuku really wants to touch him. A staggering amount, really. 

Oh God. He's fucked.

How do they tell everyone else? Is Katsuki going to want to tell everyone else?

How does he ask all of this without sounding like a moron? 

Izuku steadies himself against the shower wall. 

An even worse thought occurs to him in his unfounded spiral of worry. 

What if Katsuki doesn't want to be together? What if that was just a one time thing? Just some tension that Katsuki had needed to resolve? 

Izuku turns his face upward into the water, and groans. 

Katsuki hadn't confessed to him or something. 

And really, Izuku hadn't either. 

He's being stupid, but by the time he's done with his shower and his worrying, leaving the bathroom feels like walking to his own death. 

Nearly as soon as Izuku opens the door, Katsuki has a hand cupped around his jaw, and is tipping his face up for a kiss. 

"Don't you dare fall asleep," he murmurs. 

Then he's gone, the bathroom door clicking shut softly behind him. 

So... Maybe not a one time thing? 

A soft, goofy smile spreads across Izuku's face. His fingers tingle. 

He towels most of the water out of his hair and slides under the covers. He pulls his phone out to scroll aimlessly through some recommended articles. 

The bathroom door is swinging back open before long, and the anticipation and anxiety that had been quietly brewing in Izuku's chest springs back to life. 

Is he allowed to look, now? 

Is he always going to feel this itch under his skin when he looks at Katsuki? Does Katsuki feel that way when he looks at him? 

Oh. 

Does Katsuki want to...? 

Does he expect...? 

Is that why Katsuki had told him not to fall asleep? 

His stomach drops. 

It's not like the thought hasn't wormed its way into Izuku's mind before. He's had the past three years of making up with Katsuki for the thought to pop into his mind uninvited. 

He'd always chalked it up to hormones and Katsuki being right in front of him so often. God he'd been dense. He was so in denial it's not even funny. 

It's not like he doesn't want to. But it's so soon. He's so nervous. He doesn't know if he can handle this. 

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, and hears the bedside lamps click off. There's a dip in the bed behind him.

Izuku's hands tremble as he feels Katsuki inch closer. Katsuki's chest presses to his back, knees curling up into the bend of Izuku's own. An arm, warm and heavy, curls over his waist. 

Izuku waits, holding his breath in anticipation, for Katsuki's hand to creep downward. 

After a long, long moment, where absolutely nothing happens, neither of them moving, Katsuki sighs. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" he hisses against the back of Izuku's neck. A shiver rolls up Izuku's spine at Katsuki's breath on his skin.

"Are you going to go the fuck to sleep or not?" he asks. "S'like holding a fucking brick wall," he grumbles, mostly to himself. 

Ah, well. 

Izuku blinks unseeingly into the darkness. 

Katsuki wants to hold him while they fall asleep. 

Okay. 

Katsuki wants to hold him . That's all. The warmth that blooms in Izuku's chest is almost embarrassing in its intensity. 

He's never thought that someone would want that. To fall asleep with him. To wake up together. 

But he's going to fall asleep in Katsuki's arms. Because Katsuki wants that. 

"Is this..." Katsuki's voice comes from behind him, quiet and unsure. 

Izuku realizes that he hasn't answered him. Katsuki's arm starts to recede as he pulls away. 

Izuku catches him by the wrist, "No," he says breathlessly, "No this is good. This is great." 

Katsuki presses closer behind him then, and rests his forehead against the back of Izuku's neck. Izuku feels Katsuki's sigh against his whole body. His palm, broad and warm, presses against Izuku's ribs. 

"Idiot," he grunts.

Izuku settles his hand over Katsuki's. He lets out a slow, shaky breath. 

He tries to memorize everything about this feeling. How warm Katsuki is behind him. The twitch of his fingers against Izuku's ribcage, slotted through Izuku's own. The soft whoosh of breath against his neck. The way Katsuki's chest presses against his back with every breath. 

It feels so good. Better than he could have ever imagined. He resists the urge to turn and bury his face in Katsuki's chest, to try to get even closer. To hold him in return. 

Izuku is smiling so hard that it's difficult to fall asleep. He's not sure how long he lays awake, counting breaths and heartbeats and wondering how he got so lucky. As everything finally starts to get fuzzy, there's a gentle pressure against the back of his neck, just at his hairline. 

There's another, soft as a breath, and then Katsuki is whispering, so quietly that Izuku is sure he's not supposed to hear it. And truthfully, Izuku isn't so sure that he's not dreaming, "G'night, 'Zuku."

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes up warm, and more comfortable than he's ever been in his life. 

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up after his eyes flutter open, but when it does, Izuku nearly melts. 

He's curled against Katsuki's side, face buried in his shoulder. His nose presses against the underside of Katsuki's jaw. His hand is curled right over Katsuki's heart, the steady beat of it thumping against his fingers. There's an arm curled around his back, a heavy hand draped across his waist. Their legs are tangled together. 

He couldn't force himself to move if he tried. He has no idea what time it is. Sunlight peeks through the curtains. Everything is fuzzy and golden, and Izuku wants to live in this moment for the rest of his life. 

He's nearly overwhelmed by the urge to press a kiss to the skin of Katsuki's neck. It occurs to him that he can , now. That's allowed. 

So he does. He settles his lips there for a moment, feeling Katsuki's pulse jump under his mouth. He doesn't know what to do with the affection that wells up inside of him, desperate and heavy and clawing at his lungs. 

He just tries to hold Katsuki closer, squeezing as gently as possible in an effort to not disturb him. He doesn't want to shatter this moment. 

Katsuki hums and squeezes back, and there's a kiss being pressed to the top of Izuku's head. He buries his nose in Izuku's hair. 

Izuku does melt, then. This is quite possibly the best thing that he's ever felt in his life. 

He hadn't realized that it would be like this, feeling wanted. He's never felt this safe. 

And being wanted by Katsuki is a whole other miracle that he's not quite prepared to unpack. 

It's Katsuki, who he's been chasing for his entire life. Izuku's inspiration, the person he admires so fiercely that it rivals All Might. They've had such a complicated, absolute rollercoaster of a relationship.

It's been terrible, and great, and it's been one of the most important things that Izuku has ever gone through. Katsuki has taught Izuku so much about life, and heroism, and how deeply people can change and grow. 

Katsuki isn't perfect. He's deeply flawed, but Izuku is too. He's come so far, and he still has a long way to go. He's atoning for his past mistakes, little by little. He's learning to communicate, and apologize, and show when he cares. He's trying. 

Katsuki is strong and smart and resilient, and so, so beautiful. And Izuku has just woken up in his arms. 

And that's enough that Izuku has to take a deep breath and count to ten in order to avoid bursting into tears. 

Katsuki picks that moment of internal crisis to curl his fingers around Izuku's cheek and tilt his head up to kiss him. It's soft. 

Katsuki slowly slides his mouth against Izuku's over and over until he's dizzy. He turns, pressing Izuku's back to the sheets and hovering over him.

Izuku lets him. His fingers tingle and his legs feel like jelly. He brings a hand up to Katsuki's waist and gasps when his fingers meet bare skin. 

Katsuki kisses him again, more firmly now. He slides an arm under Izuku's neck, settling Izuku's head in the crook of his elbow to keep him close. 

Izuku's hands shake, sliding up over Katsuki's back of their own accord. Just to touch, just to feel. Katsuki's breath stutters. Izuku swipes his thumbs over Katsuki's ribs, pressing in and holding him. He's so warm under Izuku's hands. 

Katsuki's free hand reaches for Izuku's waist, fingers crawling under the hem of his shirt. His fingers make contact with Izuku's skin, and it almost burns. Izuku surprises even himself when he pulls back to set his lips against Katsuki's neck. 

He presses in just at the corner of Katsuki's jaw, trailing his mouth down to the curve of his shoulder. Katsuki shivers, and pulls him in closer, and Izuku's knees squeeze at his hips unthinkingly. Katsuki gasps into his ear, and Izuku's teeth scrape across Katsuki's skin in a knee jerk reaction. 

Katsuki swears, low and hoarse. 

Izuku's nails dig into his ribs. Their bare stomachs press together. 

He has no idea what he's doing. But it feels good in a different way. Something hot and urgent, simmering beneath his skin. 

His breath comes out harshly against Katsuki's shoulder, teeth sinking into his skin. 

Katsuki swears again, and his hips roll against Izuku's. He doesn't think Katsuki means to do it.

Oh.

Oh .

Izuku realizes that they're both hard. 

And that startles him into pulling back, face burning and chest heaving. Katsuki's expression matches his, eyes wide and shocked, flushed all the way down to his collarbones. 

What's even more startling is how badly Izuku wants to pull him right back in. And if Katsuki's face is anything to go by, he wants the same thing. 

It's such a wild turnaround from the vicious nervousness that Izuku had felt at the mere thought of this exact situation last night. 

But remembering that feeling is enough to make the anxiety come creeping back in. 

For a moment, all they do is stare at each other. Katsuki's eyebrows twitch, and he seems to be able to pinpoint the exact moment that Izuku's mood changes. He just leans in to kiss Izuku's forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his mouth. 

It's sweet, and Izuku finds himself smiling. There's no pressure in his body language, no disappointment or anger

Not even a hint of hesitation at pulling away. 

Katsuki pulls back, sitting up and pushing his hands back through his hair, yawning. 

"Breakfast," he grunts. 

Izuku hums an affirmative through a yawn of his own, stretching his arms above his head, joints popping. 

Almost every one of Izuku's bones crack when he stands. 

Katsuki raises his eyebrows, "Fucking christ, Deku." 

Izuku just smiles sheepishly and shrugs. 

"We're fucking fixing that," Katsuki spits. 

"Ah- huh?" Izuku stammers. 

Katsuki just glares, and stomps toward the door. He throws it open, and disappears into the hallway. 

~~~~~~

Izuku doesn't have to wonder for very long about how or when they're going to break the news to everyone else. 

He and Katsuki are the last two to make it downstairs for breakfast. Their classmates are gathered around the dining room table, munching on various different breakfast foods, from cereal to pancakes and anything in between. 

Izuku tries to follow Katsuki into the kitchen to grab their own food. Katsuki promptly takes him by the shoulders, spins him around, and shoves him unceremoniously toward the table. 

"Fuck outta here," he snaps, "Sit the fuck down." 

"Thanks Kacchan," Izuku grins. 

"Fuck off," Katsuki calls back. 

Izuku takes a seat to Shouto's right. Shouto nods in greeting. 

Izuku joins in on whatever idle conversation is taking place. It's comfortable, quiet and relaxed and nothing of particular importance. 

Izuku is soon explaining a particularly interesting case from "World's Weirdest Quirks" to anyone who will listen. 

The empty chair next to him is being pulled out momentarily. There's a plate of food in front of him, and Katsuki is very deliberately tilting his chin up to press a kiss to his mouth. 

He ruffles Izuku's hair, and drops into the seat beside him, slinging an arm over the back of Izuku's chair and leaning back with one eyebrow raised, as if inviting a challenge. 

Izuku just stares into the middle distance with wide, wide eyes.

He hears three forks clatter to the table. 

Uraraka looks like she's literally going to explode. The only thing keeping her from climbing over the table to get to Izuku are Iida's hands planted firmly on her shoulders. 

"What the fuck," Kaminari whispers softly. 

All hell breaks loose. 

Izuku buries his absolutely flaming face into his hands and curls in on himself, letting out a tiny, hysterical shriek. 

Someone is shaking him. There are rapid fire questions from every direction. Money is changing hands at an unprecedented rate. 

Someone is screaming. 

Izuku peeks out between his fingers at Katsuki, who is still grinning viciously. 

"That is enough ," a voice booms from the doorway. 

Silence falls over the dining room. 

Aizawa looks no less tired than when they'd arrived at the cabins. 

"We heard you all the way next door," he barks, "I thought someone was dying." 

Momo is on her feet in an instant, bowing low to their teacher, "We're so sorry, Sensei! Everything is fine!" she looks pointedly around the table, "It won't happen again!" 

A chorus of "Sorry sensei!" rings out from around the table. 

Aizawa sighs exasperatedly, shoulders dropping. He squints at Katsuki and Izuku suspiciously. His eyebrows furrow at their proximity, "And a warning; no more explosions. You will not set this place on fire."

Izuku shrinks down in his seat even further. He hopes they're not obvious enough for Aizawa to fault them for this incident. 

"Of course, Sensei!" Iida booms. 

Aizawa takes one last incredibly tired look around the room, lingering on each of their faces threateningly, and then saunters back through the doorway. 

There is complete silence until they hear the front door of the cabin click closed. 

Every head turns toward Izuku and Katsuki. 

"What the fuck are you losers looking at?" Katsuki snaps. He raises an eyebrow at Izuku, "Eat your fucking breakfast, Deku." 

Izuku levels him with the most threatening stare he can muster, "What?" he asks scathingly, "This is your fault." 

It must not be very threatening, because Katsuki just cuffs him on the back of the head, "You had a better fuckin' idea?" 

"There didn't have to be an idea, Kacchan," he elbows Katsuki in the ribs, "We could have just told them." 

"What? You wanted to sit them down for a fuckin' press conference about it?" Katsuki asks. 

"Well it would have been easier than this ," Izuku says exasperatedly. 

It would not have been easier than this, and he knows it. Katsuki knows it too. 

It's not as though Izuku had wanted to hide it or something. And if Izuku had sat them all down to try to tell them, he would have never been able to get it out. He would have had a mental breakdown before getting out three words. 

It's best to break these things to them quickly, anyway. 

Katsuki just stares at him. "Eat your fucking breakfast, Freckles," he says again, but there's a smile lurking in his eyes. 

Izuku doesn't move. Neither does Katsuki. They glare at each other for a long moment. Izuku briefly considers the benefits of headbutting him. 

"This is the cutest shit I've ever seen," Kaminari stage-whispers from the other end of the table. 

Izuku and Katsuki turn their glares on him, and he throws both his hands up defensively. 

"He's right," Kirishima says. 

"And he should say it," Mina chimes in. 

"Louder for the people in the back," Sero nods sagely.

"Deku," Uraraka hisses, right next to his ear. He jumps, and whips around to look at her. She's nearly foaming at the mouth. Her fingers wrap around his upper arm, and his gravity is gone. She drags him out of the room like a balloon. 

"You bring him back in one fucking piece, Round Face," Katsuki yells after them. Uraraka sticks her tongue out at him and blows a raspberry. 

Izuku hears the questions start once they round the corner and he flinches. 

Uraraka deposits Izuku none too gently on one of the couches a few rooms over and stands in front of him, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. 

She throws her arms out to the sides, "What the hell , Deku?!" 

"It only happened last night!" he squeaks, fingers curling anxiously in the fabric of his shorts. 

Ochako sits heavily on the couch next to him, wiggling excitedly, "Okay," she takes a deep breath, settling her cheeks into her palms, "Spill!" 

"I don't know," Izuku shrugs, voice small, "I came inside last night and he followed me." 

"Aaaaaaaand," Ochako frantically motions with her hands for him to continue. 

"And," Izuku ducks his head, trying to hide behind his horrendous bedhead, "He kind of kissed me," he whispers. 

Ochako squeals, shaking his shoulder, " Kind of kissed you?! What ?! Details, Deku! Details!" 

"I don't know!" Izuku hikes his shoulders up to his ears, "He just came in and walked up to me and... He kissed me. I don't think he even thought about it before he did it. He was going to run, afterward. But then I... I kissed him back." 

"Describe it!" Ochako pleads, "Was it a good kiss?" 

Izuku pauses for a moment, thinking back to Katsuki's hands on his face, his fingers in his hair, how gentle he'd been. He looks up at Ochako. 

"Yes," he says breathlessly. "He was so... Sweet? He didn't rush it. He didn't rush me . He let me decide."

She squeals again, giggling excitedly, "And then? Did anything else happen?" 

"We um," Izuku drops his voice to a whisper. Ochako leans in, hanging onto his every word, "He slept in my bed." 

Ochako gasps, and then wiggles her eyebrows, "Deku! How scandalous," she teases. 

"He just held me," Izuku wraps his arms around himself, looking down at his lap, "All night." 

Ochako smiles gently at him, "I'm really happy for you, Deku," she punches him softly on the shoulder. It's more of a shove than anything. Suddenly, she smirks, making gross kissing sounds at him, "Get it."

Izuku buries his face in his hands, shaking his head, "This morning," he whispers through his fingers.

Ochako gasps, hands flying up to her mouth, "You didn't !" 

" No !" Izuku waves his hands at her frantically. His cheeks are on fire. He tugs at his bangs as though that'll hide anything. "We just. Kinda made out." 

"Uh huuuuhhhhh," Ochako presses. 

"And it was really good," Izuku says miserably. 

"Aaaaaaaand," she urges. 

"He was hard," Izuku squeaks. 

" Oh ! " Ochako gasps. 

"And so was I," Izuku curls into a ball. 

"So what's the problem?" Ochako blinks, eyebrows furrowing. She's a little red herself, now, but he appreciates her for sticking through this with him. 

"I don't know!" Izuku exclaims. "I just!" he gestures wildly, "Froze up!" 

"Deku, if you're not ready..." Ochako trails off seriously. Her eyes are sharp now. 

"No," Izuku shakes his head, "He wouldn't. He stopped as soon as I did." 

Ochako relaxes, face softening. 

"I do think I want to," Izuku admits, "I think I've wanted to for years... With him." 

"Then talk to him," Ochako sets a hand on his arm. 

Izuku looks up at her, frowning and confused.

"What?" she asks, matching his confusion. 

"I think I need to talk to him," he says. 

Ochako shakes her head a bit, confusion pulling her mouth down in a frown, "Okay? That's what I just said?" 

"No," Izuku clarifies, "We didn't talk about this." 

"Deku, what?" Ochako asks. 

"This!" he exclaims, "Us! I don't- why did he- why now?" 

Truthfully, it's been a tiny little annoyance that Izuku has been shoving into the back of his mind since last night. 

Now that Izuku has recognized that Katsuki has been trying to share his feelings for a few months, maybe even a few years, he's been wondering. What made him decide to do this now? 

What changed?

Sure, they've been getting closer over the past few years. They're leagues ahead of where they'd been when they'd started at UA. 

And it's not that he doubts that Katsuki wants this. Katsuki has never done anything that he hasn't wanted to do in his entire life.

Katsuki had approached him, after all. 

But it doesn't make this any less sudden for Izuku, or any less confusing. Izuku can recognize that his own feelings have always been pointed in this direction. 

But Katsuki... 

Through this swelling affection and glowing happiness, through the absolute disbelief that he could have been so lucky to end up here, there's a little voice that's been nagging him and asking what's going on in Katsuki's head right now. 

Izuku only realizes that he's mumbling when Ochako's hand squeezes his arm. He looks up at her. 

She smiles, gentle and understanding, "Ask him," she says, "It'll make you feel better."

Her smile turns sly, eyes narrowing, "And once you talk to him," she giggles, "You better get it, Deku."

Izuku makes a strangled sound and takes a feeble swing at her. She ducks under it easily. 

"I'm just saying," she laughs, "You deserve it. He's only gotten more handsome over the past few years." 

Izuku raises an eyebrow at her. 

"What?" she asks, crossing her arms and pouting, "I can admit that he's pretty... When he's not trying to look like a garbage demon. And don't tell me he wouldn't treat you right." 

There's got to be steam coming out of Izuku's ears now. "Okay, we're done here," he nearly shouts, voice almost a whole octave higher than usual. 

He's off the couch and exiting the sitting room as quickly as possible, Ochako's peals of laughter echoing behind him.

Chapter Text

Deciding to talk to Katsuki was easy. 

Actually talking to Katsuki is far more difficult. 

Izuku can't seem to settle his nerves. Every time he thinks about sitting Katsuki down to talk, his stomach feels like it's going to fall out of his butt. His heart pounds so hard it can't be healthy. His hands are even shakier than usual. 

He's not afraid of Katsuki. He isn't. 

But Izuku is afraid that if he says anything, if he brings it up, then this illusion will shatter. If he gives Katsuki even a second to stop and think about what they're doing, he'll suddenly realize the mistake that he's made. 

He'll lose Katsuki again. 

But it nags at him, constantly whispering in the back of his brain. 

Izuku can't feel completely settled. More than being afraid that talking to Katsuki will ruin everything, he's afraid of making the wrong move. Afraid of doing something to make Katsuki realize that he's not worth it. 

And it doesn't help that Katsuki is being... Well, everything that Izuku has ever wanted. 

It sounds horrifically cheesy and far too attached for them being together for little more than a handful of days, but Izuku can't help it. 

Katsuki takes his breath away. He's sweet, as far as his foul-mouthed, short-tempered disposition can be considered sweet. Saying that there's a side of him that only Izuku gets to see feels corny beyond all belief, but it's true. 

He's quieter, not in a subdued way, but in a way that makes it feel as though he's not on guard all the time. Like he doesn't have to be loud to keep others at arms length. 

Izuku loves hearing his voice this way, so hushed and deep and calm. 

He's gentle. Katsuki has taken to sitting behind him, chin tucked over his shoulder and arms folded around his waist. When Izuku talks, Katsuki responds right next to his ear, and the goosebumps that pickle along his arms are almost ridiculous in their frequency.

It's really the affection that's the most surprising. Izuku knows that he loves physical contact. Not that he has a lot of instances to go on, but even a pat on the shoulder leaves him nearly reeling. But he'd never intended to force that on Katsuki. Especially not so suddenly, and definitely not in front of everyone. 

He'd thought, if he was lucky, that Katsuki would maybe let him hold his hand in front of their classmates someday. 

Izuku wouldn't have assumed, not in a million years, that Katsuki would be a touchy person. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he's seen Katsuki allow someone into his personal bubble. And even so, he's looked on edge every time. 

But now, with Izuku, Katsuki slides into his space like he was made to be there. And more perplexingly, Katsuki melts into him. He's like a huge, warm blanket against Izuku's back. His fingers trace absent-minded circles and patterns and letters whenever they rest against Izuku. 

Izuku tries to make sense of them, but just the feeling of Katsuki's fingers on his skin leaves him so dizzy and warm that he can't focus for long enough to make anything of it all.

A few days after the pool party and their abrupt getting together, the class gathers in the living room for a collective movie night. 

Katsuki claims a couch just for them and coaxes Izuku's head into his lap. Izuku feels eyes on him, and that stirs up his nerves, but then Katsuki's fingers are sliding into his hair and that's got Izuku's eyes snapping up to Katsuki's face. Katsuki is studying him, eyes flicking over Izuku's features, skimming across his face and down his neck. 

Fingers slide up to brush an errant curl from his forehead, and trace a path across his temple and down the side of his neck. A shiver wracks through Izuku's body. His eyes flutter, and he swallows hard. Katsuki's fingers wander back into his hair, nails raking across his scalp lightly. A thumb swipes over his jawline. It's so achingly tender. Izuku is nearly overcome. 

He wants nothing more than to bury his face against Katsuki's stomach and curl into him. But he stays still. He's already dumbfounded that Katsuki is so openly affectionate in front of everyone else, and he doesn't want to draw any more attention to them than necessary. 

So he lays there, Katsuki's fingers sliding through his hair and scratching across his scalp, a veritable puddle of contentment. He doesn't catch ANY of the movie that Tsu puts on. He thinks he might have fallen asleep for a little while, but he can't be sure. Every once in a while he glances up, and every time, he catches Katsuki looking back. 

And every time, the look on Katsuki's face nearly knocks him dead. 

It's almost... Adoring. It's soft, and open, and there's the hint of a smile playing at his mouth. Not a smirk, not something prideful or taunting. A smile. Barely there, and definitely invisible to anyone else. Quiet and wondrous and just for Izuku. 

This can't be real. 

And that's part of the problem. Katsuki now is a complete one-eighty from the Katsuki that Izuku has known for his whole life. Of course he's grown, and of course he's matured. Of course he doesn't spit and snarl and seethe the way he used to. 

But Izuku couldn't have predicted this complete turnaround of their relationship. Not if he'd bet his life on it. 

He doesn't understand where Katsuki has been keeping all of this. Or how it had come about so suddenly. Or how Katsuki is possibly so comfortable with it all so immediately. 

It's not as though he doesn't want it as badly as if feels like Katsuki does. Because by God, Izuku wants it. It feels like all he thinks about is wrapping himself around Katsuki and staying there for the next five to seven business days. 

Every touch leaves him reeling. Every kiss sears through him. 

Once Izuku had realized that what he's been feeling for all these years had been an embarrassing amount of pining, all he wants to do is act on it. To do all the soft and sappy things that Katsuki would have never allowed before. 

He doesn't know how he's supposed to survive this feeling. 

Izuku is overwhelmed.

How is Katsuki not ?

~~~~~~

The longer that Izuku lets it go, the more difficult it feels to try to bring it up. 

He thinks that Katsuki knows that something is up, if the sidelong looks he's getting are anything to go by. 

Izuku wonders why Katsuki hasn't said anything yet. He's never been good at keeping quiet about anything, really. 

Katsuki doesn't ask. He just keeps blanketing Izuku in affection and kindness. 

He sits Izuku down in front of him in the living room a few days later, and finds a hero documentary on a random channel. 

"Kacchan, wha-" Izuku finds himself being pushed firmly onto the ground in front of the couch closest to the TV. 

"Just fucking sit ," Katsuki huffs, settling onto the couch directly behind him, bracketing Izuku's shoulders with his knees. 

"But-" Izuku tried to turn around to look at him, but Katsuki's fingers plant themselves on top of his head and swivel him back around to face the television. 

"Can you fucking sit still for one second?" he grumbles, cuffing Izuku on the back of the head. 

"Hey!" Izuku cries indignantly. He intends to come up with some snappy retort that will no doubt lead to a cabin-wide chase and Katsuki following him up a tree. 

But all of Izuku's thoughts are abruptly cut short by Katsuki's thumbs pressing into either side of his shoulders. They slide in small, firm circles, exactly where his muscles seem to be the most tense, and all the fight immediately drops out of him. 

 "Oh," Izuku breathes, "Why didn't you just say so?" 

"Because you're an idiot," Katsuki grumbles out. 

"That's not very nice, Kacchan," Izuku pouts despite Katsuki not being able to see his face. 

Katsuki snorts, "Quit fucking pouting. You would've been all 'Oh no, that's okay Kacchan!', and, 'Don't worry about me, Kacchan!'," he does a high-pitched imitation of Izuku's voice. 

"I do not sound like that," Izuku gripes, but he can't even manage to sound offended. 

Katsuki's thumbs slide up his neck, massaging at the base of his skull, and Izuku's eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

"Yes you do," Katsuki tells him simply. 

Izuku just huffs out something that falls between a laugh and a sigh. 

"Jesus christ," Katsuki murmurs, thumbs digging into Izuku's shoulder blades, "Do you ever fucking relax? How do you even move like this?" 

Izuku can hear Katsuki's disapproving frown. He shrugs, and Katsuki jostles him and clicks his tongue impatiently for it. 

"Whatever the fuck you're doing to make yourself like this, knock it the fuck off," Katsuki says seriously. 

"I can't just stop training, Kacchan," Izuku looks down at his hands, crooked and scarred as they are. He flexes his fingers, wincing at the way they creak and pop. He wonders if he can get Katsuki to massage them too. 

"You can take better fuckin' care of yourself, idiot," Katsuki grumbles. 

Izuku hesitates for what Katsuki must think is a few seconds too long. He tugs on Izuku until his shoulders hit the back of the couch, and leans around him to look him directly in the eye. 

"You're gonna wake up one day and you're not gonna be able to fuckin' move," he frowns, "Then what the fuck are you gonna do? You think I'm picking your dumb ass up out of bed?" 

Izuku blinks at him, and can't help the smirk that curls at his lips, "I had no idea you were such a mother hen, Kacchan."

Katsuki has him in a headlock immediately, tilting his head back to force Izuku to look him in the eye, "Fuck you," he snaps, "You know your muscles need time to recover. Otherwise you're just overworking them and not doing yourself any good. You're gonna fucking tear something."

"Kacchan is so smart," Izuku smiles innocently. 

"I'm going to kill you," Katsuki says in disbelief, "Here I am, spending my time fixing your fucked up muscles because you're too stupid to take care of yourself-" 

"And so generous! Kacchan is so kind!" Izuku claps his hands together in a mimicry of prayer. 

"I should have fucking drowned you when I had the chance," Katsuki shoves him forward again, "What the fuck. Asshole."

It is more than a little heartwarming to see Katsuki show so much concern for his well-being and progress. And he knows that Katsuki has to actively stop himself from fretting over some of their classmates. 

Despite the abrasive, "I'm a bad boy" attitude that he puts on, Katsuki really is a bit of a goody-two-shoes. 

He's in bed by 9pm on school nights. He eats healthy (despite his food being spicy enough to kill an elephant). Hell, he has a ten step skincare routine that Izuku has been threatened to keep secret by pain of death. 

He's a total dork. It's cute. 

"You loooooove me," Izuku sings, giggling. 

Then he freezes, struck by the realization of what he's just implied. He tried to stay completely still. Maybe if he's still enough, Katsuki will think he's disappeared. 

Katsuki is quiet for a moment, hands settling back on Izuku's shoulders. 

Izuku's heart beats in his throat. 

"Yeah yeah," Katsuki says softly, "Maybe I do." 

~~~~~~

That little admission had positively short-circuited Izuku's brain. 

He'd sat still for as long as Katsuki had deemed it necessary to work the tension out of his muscles, screaming internally and desperately willing his heart to slow down even a little bit. If he clenches his fists any harder, he's going to break his fingers. 

For a while, there's only the sounds from the documentary and Katsuki's frustrated mumbling.

Once Katsuki decides he's satisfied with his work, he shoves at Izuku's shoulders. "Now fuck off and go fucking relax somewhere," he orders. 

They both stand, and Izuku stretches, rolling his shoulders and swiveling his head. He feels remarkably better. 

"Thanks, Kacchan," he murmurs. 

Katsuki points at him threateningly, frown harsh, "You fuck that up, I kill you." 

But then he softens, just a bit, and curls a finger under Izuku's chin to pull him in for a kiss. 

"You're eating lunch," Katsuki murmurs against his mouth, and that leaves no room for argument. 

Izuku blinks, more than a little dazed, "Sure." 

Then Katsuki is gone, and Izuku is lowering his face into his hands. 

Tonight. 

They're talking tonight. 

~~~~~~

By the time that evening has rolled around, Katsuki has graciously promised Izuku that he will answer questions about his quirk, and Izuku is nearly VIBRATING with excitement. 

He's got almost 15 years worth of questions itching to get out. 

Izuku hadn't been able to wait until they'd finished dinner to start asking. He chatters away around mouthfuls of food and through washing dishes afterward. 

Katsuki drags him away from their classmates' amused states and up toward their shared room. 

"Take a fuckin' breath , nerd," he mutters, but it's fond.

They settle down into bed together, shoulder to shoulder.

"But does it affect your skin at all? Oh! Is all your sweat nitroglycerin or is it just from your palms? Does it feel different than normal sweat? Does it itch?" Izuku doesn't pause for an answer to any of those questions. 

Katsuki rolls his eyes. He offers Izuku his hand, palm up, and Izuku takes it eagerly. He leans down to inspect it closely, fingers trailing over the pads of Katsuki's fingers and pressing into his palm. 

Katsuki answers any questions he can remember from the last five minutes, quiet and indulgent. 

Izuku's hands itch for a notebook. He's trying to mentally store all of this away for later when he has the time to write it all down. 

He asks anything he can think of, and Katsuki answers. 

He doesn't get irritated, or impatient, and he doesn't tell Izuku that his questions are stupid. 

He might laugh at some of them, but he's clearly amused. 

Eventually, Izuku runs out of questions. He's satisfied for now, with the most pressing and longstanding questions answered. 

He looks down at Katsuki's hand, still cradled in both of his own, fingers absentmindedly running over the skin of Katsuki's palm. 

Really, he's just holding Katsuki's hand now. It stopped being for inspection purposes well over an hour ago. 

Well, it's now or never, right? 

Izuku swallows, and his fingers shake. 

"Kacchan?" he hopes that if he's holding onto Katsuki, he won't run. 

"Hmm?" Katsuki responds, and even in just that hum, Izuku can hear apprehension. 

Izuku struggles, for a moment, with trying to figure out how to word this. He doesn't want to sound as though he doesn't want this, and he doesn't want to make it seem like he doesn't think that Katsuki is being honest. 

"Why now?" he settles on. 

Katsuki doesn't ask what he means. There's a heavy pause. 

"I stopped being a moron, I guess," he says simply. 

"Oh," Izuku breathes. He swallows hard, "Um- You're just so… comfortable. Did you... always?" 

He looks at Katsuki then, and Katsuki isn't looking at him. He's focused intently on the hand that still rests in Izuku's lap. 

"I think," he starts quietly. His eyes flick up to Izuku's for no longer than a split second, "For a while I really convinced myself I hated you. I couldn't..." he stops, trying to find the words, "You were always in the back of my mind. And I couldn't figure out why. So I made myself believe that it was because I hated you." 

He bleeds shame, from the tremor in his voice, to the way his eyebrows furrow. His frown is only for himself. "I never did ," he says quickly, "Hate you, I mean. I just-" he shakes his head. "I had a lot of time to come to terms with it. Took a while. But I realized a long time ago and then…" Surprisingly, he flushes, "Got used to the feeling, I guess. Thought about it a lot."

Izuku's breath catches. He doesn't know how to possibly respond to that. It's much more of an explanation than he'd been expecting to get. 

Truthfully, he's more than a little floored. While he'd sat and wondered if Katsuki had even wanted to be friends, Katsuki had been wondering about what it would be like to be with him. He'd thought about it so often that when it actually happened, he'd settled into it seamlessly. 

Katsuki swallows. "Did... Did you always?" he asks, so quiet that if Izuku weren't watching him, he might have missed it. 

After what Katsuki had just said, it's hard to find the words, but since they're being honest, "I think so." Izuku says, eyes not leaving Katsuki's face.

Katsuki's eyes snap up to his face in disbelief, "Even when... ?" 

Izuku smiles, something wide and self-deprecating and just this side of broken.

"I didn't ever admit it to myself. Not that it was like this. I don't think I even fully realized until you kissed me, but…" he takes a deep, shuddering breath, "I always missed you," his voice breaks, and there's a lump in his throat that hurts to swallow around, "I always hoped you'd come back." 

Katsuki looks down, shaking his head hard. His fingers twitch against Izuku's own. He's fighting not to pull away, to run, "I don't deserve that." He squeezes his eyes shut,"I don't deserve this." 

"You were lost," Izuku aims for soothing. He's not sure he quite makes it. 

"I hurt you," Katsuki growls. 

"And I hurt you," Izuku insists. He can see regret in every line of Katsuki's body. And he had hurt Katsuki, even if he'd never intended it. 

"You didn't mean to," Katsuki fires back, "You didn't know . How could you have ever thought that I'd be so fucking self-centered-" 

"But I still did ," Izuku interrupts him. 

"It's different!" Katsuki snaps, sudden and loud. His free hand curls into a fist, smoke wafting up from his palms. He's quieter when he speaks again, almost pleading, "It's different. I meant it." 

There's a pause while Izuku considers. He watches Katsuki, the way his chest heaves, the self-loathing that lives in his eyes. 

"You did," Izuku says gently, "And it did hurt me. And I forgive you." 

"I don't deserve that," Katsuki says fiercely. 

"You do ," Izuku counters. 

"I don't ," Katsuki's intensity rises. 

"Then make it up to me, Kacchan," Izuku only matches him, voice raising. 

Katsuki looks dumbfounded. His mouth opens, and snaps closed again. 

Izuku meets him head on, challenging Katsuki like he always does, "Make it up to me until you feel like you do."

Katsuki breathes hard. He roughly shoves his free hand

through his hair, leaning back against the headboard and staring up at the ceiling. 

"Shit, Deku," he breathes. Izuku lets him work through whatever thoughts are bouncing around in his head. 

And then Katsuki's eyes are on him, dark and intense. His throat works in a swallow. His mouth opens, and for a second, nothing comes out. He shakes his head hard in frustration. He looks back up. 

"I'm sorry," he blurts suddenly. 

Izuku's breath catches, he nearly chokes on it, "Kacchan-" 

"For everything I did," Katsuki continues, "For hurting you. I regret it. I don't know how to make up for it but I want to try." 

Katsuki's eyes roam across his face, quiet and anguished, "Let me try," he begs. 

Izuku is breathless, head swimming. Tears spill out of his eyes and drip down his cheeks messily. 

"That's a start," he says, voice breaking. 

Katsuki pulls him in roughly, and Izuku's arms go around his back instinctively. 

He buries his face in Katsuki's shoulder, hiccuping out a sob. Katsuki's fingers tangle into his hair, and the tremor that runs through them is almost violent.

They hold each other through it, until Izuku stops crying and Katsuki stops shaking. 

At some point, Izuku ends up pressed against the bed under Katsuki. When Katsuki pulls back to look at him, Izuku swears there's a wet spot on his shoulder. He doesn't mention it. 

It hadn't been fun, and it definitely hadn't been easy, but it had been worth it.

He reaches up between them to set a hand against Katsuki's chest, and closes his eyes. He feels the steady thrum of Katsuki's heartbeat under his palm. He counts along to it until his breathing evens out. 

Izuku sighs, and he finally feels at ease. 

Katsuki's fingers swipe at the errant tears that still sit on his cheeks, and Izuku opens his eyes again to watch. 

Katsuki looks unburdened, for once. Truthfully, Izuku hadn't really been able to tell that something had been weighing him down until it was gone. He'd been so preoccupied with his own anxiety that he didn't see Katsuki's. 

He hadn't had the mental capacity to consider that their cobbled together relationship had been taking its toll on Katsuki as well. Of course he had been harboring guilt and regret for everything that had gone wrong between them. But now that it was out in the open, maybe they could start to honestly rebuild themselves into something new.

Izuku smiles, curling his fingers into Katsuki's shirt and tugging at it gently. 

Katsuki goes willingly, leaning down to press the barest hint of a kiss to Izuku's mouth. 

Izuku smiles against his lips, and kisses him again. 

Katsuki hums, a question. 

Izuku shakes his head, "Happy," he murmurs.

He feels Katsuki smile in return, and there's something so exhilarating about the feeling of it, of having Katsuki's smile pressed to his own. 

"Me too," Katsuki breathes back. 

He curls his hands around Katsuki's jaw, thumbs sliding across his cheeks. 

It's all tenderness, and it burns in his chest, settling low in his stomach. 

He's so ridiculously in love. 

He's dizzy with it, a heady warmth that spreads all the way down to his toes. His fingers tingle.

He needs to be closer. He curls a leg around Katsuki's waist, heel pressed into the back of his thigh. 

Katsuki's breath stutters, ever so slightly, just enough to light up Izuku's nerve endings. 

Izuku kisses him insistently, and suddenly he can't get enough of the warm slide of Katsuki's mouth against his. 

He wraps an arm around Katsuki's neck, and pulls him down to press their chests together. 

He wants Katsuki's weight on him, pressing him into the mattress, keeping him pinned there. 

Katsuki's free hand finds his waist, fingers twisting in the thin fabric of his shirt. 

And it's not enough, not by a long shot. He has no idea what he's doing, no idea what he wants. 

Izuku slides his hands under Katsuki's shirt, up his back, and his heart pounds .

Katsuki is so warm under his hands. Izuku glides his fingers over the ridges of Katsuki's spine, and Katsuki shivers outright. 

Now Katsuki is yanking Izuku's shirt out of the way to slide a hand up over his stomach. His nails catch on Izuku's ribs, and Izuku's back arches involuntarily. 

His breath comes out harshly against Katsuki's mouth, not quite a moan, and Katsuki just swallows it. 

Katsuki's mouth leaves his, and Izuku is ready to protest the second that it does, but Katsuki is tilting his head to the side and his mouth is finding Izuku's neck in an instant. 

He trails kisses down Izuku's throat, nipping at his skin in a way that has Izuku's toes curling. It stings, just enough to make him gasp and dig his nails into Katsuki's ribs, just enough that he whimpers at the feeling. 

It's so much, more sensation than he's ever felt, more than he's ever been touched before. 

And it's not enough. He's trying to yank Katsuki's shirt off before he even thinks about what he's doing, hands pulling insistently at his collar. 

Katsuki sits back, ripping the shirt over his head. 

Izuku goes absolutely stupid when he sees him like that. He's flushed, pupils blown wide and chest heaving. His hair is a disaster. 

The sunset paints him gold and burnt orange. It glints in his eyes, illuminating the raw desire that Izuku finds there. 

He's absolutely ethereal.

Izuku is having trouble forming a coherent thought. 

This can't possibly be real. What has he done to deserve this? This is the best thing that's ever happened to him. 

Then Katsuki is pulling at the hem of Izuku's shirt. There's a question in his eyes, and Izuku lifts himself up to let Katsuki tug it over his head. 

He thinks he'd let Katsuki do whatever he wanted to him right about now. 

The thought doesn't scare him. Everything in his life so far has revolved around Katsuki. It only makes sense that they ended up here. 

In fact, it's exciting. 

It only gets more exciting when Katsuki swoops back down to attach his mouth to Izuku's collarbone. 

Izuku's hands fly to Katsuki's hair, tangling in and tugging harshly. 

Katsuki hisses, gasping, and his teeth sink into Izuku's skin. 

Their chests press together again, and it feels incredible to be skin to skin.

Izuku does moan outright, then. If he wasn't hard before, he definitely is now. 

From there, it's easy to roll his hips against Katsuki's. He's not afraid, this time, when he feels that Katsuki is hard too. 

Katsuki swears against his neck, and Izuku's hips buck at the sound of it. 

Izuku wraps his other leg around Katsuki's waist, and this time when he slides his hips against Katsuki it's on purpose. 

Katsuki grabs at his shoulder, forehead buried in the pillow next to Izuku's head. 

He breathes out a moan, quiet and desperate and right into Izuku's ear, and it's quite possibly the best thing that Izuku has ever heard in his life. 

It only makes his skin burn hotter, makes him want to get closer. 

He wants Katsuki to make that sound again. 

He wants all of this so badly that it makes his head spin. 

Izuku shoves a hand down between them, and he palms at Katsuki through his shorts. 

It feels good to curl his fingers around Katsuki, to feel the heat of him, to make him shiver. 

"Fuck!" Katsuki gasps, and Izuku doesn't think he's ever felt more powerful than he does right now.

Katsuki has the presence of mind to bring his own hand down to touch Izuku. 

And Izuku's brain is nothing but static when Katsuki's fingers wrap around him. And then he moves, and Izuku is sure he'll be embarrassed later at the sound that rips out of his throat. 

But he can't be bothered with that right now because it feels so absolutely fucking incredible to have Katsuki touching him. 

He curls his fingers at the waistband of Katsuki's shorts, "Can I?" he asks, and he doesn't even recognize his own voice. It's hushed and deep and wrecked. 

Katsuki swears against his ear again, harsh and breathy, "Fucking christ, can you?" 

"Kacchan," Izuku whines. 

"Yes!" Katsuki grunts harshly. 

His fingers find Izuku's waistband and Izuku thinks his hands might be smoking. 

"Can I?" Katsuki grits out. 

Izuku smells burnt caramel. 

"Yes! Yes fuck !" Izuku yelps. 

Katsuki groans into his neck. "Since when do you fucking swear?" 

"Learned from you," Izuku tries to laugh, but it falls apart into a moan when Katsuki's fingers wrap around him. 

Izuku has never thought he'd have a thing for someone's hands, but Katsuki's are fucking incredible. Huge and warm and so achingly gentle. 

Izuku spares a thought for the fact that he has a hand halfway down Katsuki's pants. 

He has a fucking hand halfway down Katsuki Bakugo's pants. It's nearly over for him right then and there. 

Izuku worries for a split second that it won't feel good, with his rough and crooked fingers. But that flies out the window as soon as he touches Katsuki. His teeth sink into Izuku's shoulder hard, muffling the sound that tears itself out his throat. 

He tries his best to keep touching, to keep sliding his fingers around Katsuki. Katsuki's hand on him feels almost too good for him to focus at all. 

There are fingers in his hair, twisting and yanking, and Katsuki's mouth is on his again, hot and slick and urgent. Katsuki bites at his lips, and Izuku bites back, letting out a string of swears that would normally make him blush. 

His legs shake. He rolls his hips, bucking up against Katsuki's hand. Every muscle in his body is absolutely taut. The heat that coils in his stomach threatens to overwhelm his entire consciousness. He buries his face into Katsuki's shoulder. 

"Kacchan," he moans, and stars explode behind his eyes. 

He hears Katsuki's vicious swear, feels him tense and feels his hips stutter. He wants to live in the quiet, desperate sound that Katsuki makes. Katsuki's fingers pull hard at his hair, and then he's panting against Izuku's ear, heavy and boneless on top of him. 

Izuku pulls his hand from between them. He glances over to find his discarded shirt and wipes his fingers on it. He rolls them onto their sides, still dazed and breathing hard. 

Katsuki's eyes flutter open, hazy and dark. He looks wrecked, face flushed, lips swollen from Izuku biting at them. Izuku can't imagine he looks any different himself. He's definitely going to have a bruise in the shape of Katsuki's teeth on his shoulder. 

They look at each other for a long moment. Izuku can't find it in himself to be embarrassed. 

After all, it's just Katsuki. 

How did he get so lucky? 

Katsuki blows out a heavy breath, "Jesus christ," he murmurs. 

Izuku can't help it. He laughs. 

Big, stupid guffaws that shake his whole body.

He watches Katsuki try to hold back, and watches him fail miserably.

He laughs until tears are springing to his eyes, and his ribs hurt. Katsuki isn't hit quite so hard, but he's still swiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Izuku feels like he's unlocked some new part of himself. He feels so light. So completely carefree and happy. He feels good. 

Eventually he comes down from whatever ridiculous high he'd been on, curled into Katsuki's arms. His head rests on Katsuki's chest, ear pressed to his heart. Katsuki traces patterns across the freckles on his shoulders. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to Izuku's hair, holding him that much closer. 

Izuku's chest feels so full, so warm and bright with affection that he can barely stand it.

For so long, he's been craving something like this. He thrives on touch. He doesn't like to think that he's been lonely, but he's always felt like something has been missing. 

He realizes, now, that it's this. He's been wanting Katsuki so desperately for so many years, not knowing what it meant. Not understanding that it would feel this good to have him. 

He leans up to kiss the corner of Katsuki's mouth, and feels the curl of Katsuki's smile under his lips. It's intoxicating to be able to make him happy. 

He can't help himself. He has somewhere to put all of this affection, now. It feels so good just to press kiss after kiss to Katsuki's skin, anywhere he can reach. 

And it's even better that Katsuki lets him. To feel Katsuki's hands press into his back to keep him close and to know that he wants this. 

He buries his neck back into Katsuki's shoulder when it gets to be too much, and blinks back at the absolutely cathartic tears that burn behind his eyes. 

Katsuki just strokes his hair. Izuku loves him for it. 

After a while, Katsuki shifts uncomfortably underneath him. 

"Sticky," he grumbles.

"Comfy," Izuku sighs back. 

"I am not going to fucking sleep like this," Katsuki says. 

Izuku doesn't answer him. He feigns snoring. 

"Fuck. You are not going to sleep like this," Katsuki digs his fingers into Izuku's ribs. 

Izuku squeals and scrambles away, pouting exaggeratedly.

"You ruined my moment," he whines. 

Katsuki snorts, "I'm sure I can make it up to you," he grins wickedly, tossing a glance over his shoulder as he gets up to head to the bathroom. 

Call him stupid and horny, but Izuku is scrambling after him without a second thought.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, dating Katsuki is a lot like the past two years have been. 

Just with a little more, ah, touching. 

And a lot more disgusted gagging from their classmates over how in love they are. 

Ochako high fives him and demands details about everything . Izuku nearly combusts from embarrassment trying to tell her about it all. 

Katsuki is still very much himself, of course. Nothing will ever change that. He's loud and abrasive and he swears entirely too much. He makes empty threats to kick Izuku's ass at least twice a day. 

Izuku leans into that, mouthing off to Katsuki any chance he gets just to get a rise out of him. He thinks that Katsuki likes it, even if he won't admit it. 

They bicker for the fun of it, and their classmates egg them on. 

Katsuki laughs a lot more, and Izuku is thankful for it. It never fails to give him butterflies. 

They're so different now, but so much is the same. 

Izuku is so happy, and he can tell that Katsuki is too. 

The first time that Katsuki actually tells Izuku that he loves him, Izuku nearly passes out. 

There's nothing particularly special happening. They're just watching some stupid quirk analysis video that Izuku had stumbled across on one of his social medias. He talks over nearly the entire thing, chattering on about why every single thing this guy is saying about the quirk in question is entirely wrong and super misguided. 

He's getting more and more frustrated with every point that this idiot is making, and he can feel his voice rising in volume. His free hand is gesticulating wildly. He's in the middle of explaining exactly why spreading misinformation and fear mongering over quirks is so dangerous when Katsuki kisses him. 

And even after what must be a hundred kisses, Izuku can't help but melt into Katsuki's chest. 

"I love you," Katsuki states when he pulls back. 

Izuku chokes. He flounders, stupid noises tumbling out of his mouth uselessly. 

Katsuki just smiles, wide and delighted with Izuku's reaction. 

"I love you," he says again. 

Izuku whines wordlessly. There are tears burning at the backs of his eyes. 

Katsuki chuckles, and tackles Izuku so that he's laying flat on the couch. 

"I love you, Izuku," he drops a kiss on Izuku's forehead. 

Izuku hasn't heard his given name from Katsuki's mouth since they were four years old. It burns through him. 

"Again," he chokes out. 

Katsuki leans down, mouth right next to Izuku's ear. He presses his nose into Izuku's hair. 

"I love you, Izuku," he whispers. 

Izuku sobs.

"I love you!" Izuku manages through stuttering breaths. 

Katsuki just holds him, smile hidden against Izuku's neck. 

Izuku's phone lays on the floor, video forgotten. 

They're better this way. 

They're better together. 

~~~~~~

The rest of their trip is mostly uneventful. They lounge around aimlessly, catching up on movies and using the pool to its fullest extent. 

They get into stupid competitions to see who can get the highest score on the arcade machines in the basement. A few of these competitions end with Izuku up on the roof, desperately trying to avoid being launched into the pool again. 

Katsuki always catches him. 

The day before the end of their trip, the entirety of their chaperone squad walks into the cabin once to find Katsuki laying across Izuku's lap, complaining loudly about nothing in particular with exaggerated hand gestures, and Izuku twisting his hair into tiny braids. 

Izuku leans down to kiss him at the exact moment that the teachers walk into the room. 

Midnight squeals loudly enough to break the sound barrier. She is promptly dragged away by Vlad, who looks so supremely uncomfortable it's a wonder he hasn't burst into flames. He grabs Mic's collar before he can join in on Midnight's babbling and drags him out too. 

Aizawa just sighs, defeat and disbelief aging him ten years in an instant. 

He turns on his heel without a word and leaves. 

Izuku claps a hand over his mouth, completely mortified. 

"Did you see his fuckin' face?" Katsuki whispers. 

Izuku shakes his head and swats at Katsuki to get him to stop. 

"Oh I'm gonna fuck with him so bad," Katsuki grins. "After all the bullshit he put us through for the last three years!" 

Izuku curls over him, snorting stupidly. 

"C'mon, let's go fuckin' make out in front of the teacher's cabin or something," Katsuki is on his feet, dragging Izuku out of the cabin the same way that Aizawa had gone. 

"You're going to get us expelled!" Izuku laughs. 

"He can't expel us if he won't fucking look at us!" Katsuki's eyes gleam with mirth. 

Really, this is the most fun Izuku thinks he's ever had.