quiet moments like this
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Katsuki has never had to be gentle with anything.
Of that, he's conscious of—always had been to gauge his quirk. It's a necessary battle tactic to keep his strength flexible, stay on top of things and not go batshit with the explosions when he's pissed. This isn't battle, though. It's this whole other world that sets off this weird feeling inside of him, like he's cramped in his own skin, like he's a ticking time bomb that'll burn Izuku's house down—
Because like hell he's ever been gentle with Izuku in the past, and maybe Katsuki just can't grasp onto the concept of guilt very well to try and set his shit straight—their past is as messy as Izuku's hero notes and that's all Katsuki has ever known.
He knows about burning things to a crisp, leaving things in bloody bits, standing amidst broken things with the smoke between his fingers.
(He can't break Izuku.
But here's the thing—he could. It's all just capability, instinct, nature, and he's been doing it for years now, smiling as he does so, and he's probably going to end up doing it anyway, some way, somehow.
He's a war boy, sadistic and twisted and destructive, and it's only a matter of time until he breaks him—)
"Stop." Izuku lifts his head from Katsuki's shoulder to look incredulously at the ash blonde. "I don't like what you're saying right now, Kacchan."
He doesn't even bother swerving his attention from his study notes. Maybe it's subconscious—him not wanting to look at people, but it's not like he's ever been a people-person to begin with. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he grunts, like it's been obvious from the beginning of their relationship, ever since friendship to this.
There's a pause before Katsuki feels Izuku on his shoulder again, but the green-haired boy sort of just plops there on his cheek, and Katsuki notices. To this, he sighs again, straightening his head and letting the pencil roll from his hand.
"Stop pouting."
"I'm not pouting."
It's funny, because Katsuki can hear him pouting. It makes him legitimately question whether or not this kid knows how stupidly adorable he is.
(And it's those kinds of simple things, the quiet things, that make his heart beat.)
Either way, Katsuki doesn't know shit when it comes to dealing with his feelings, so he shoulders the kid off, wraps an arm around his neck, and bites his freckled cheek.
"Ow—Kacchaaaaaan," Izuku wails, patting the other boy's knee in protest. Admittedly, this is one of the most affectionate things Katsuki has ever done, and Izuku's reaction makes it ten times more worth it.
A huge smile that's just so Katsuki is plastered on his face when his teeth lets go, but he has no intention of going back to studying (and it's not like he studies on a regular anyway, he's just doing it for this loser he's got in his arms). So, he just kind of holds him there, forehead against temple as he inhales Izuku's girly coconut shampoo (since it's one of the few that can actually tame his wild curls) and Izuku rubs his cheek, still pouting, and . . .
Katsuki is not gentle, and this is one of the most affectionate things he's ever done, and as Izuku leans slightly into his grasp, finding the elbow of Katsuki's free arm to trace down and lace their fingers together, Katsuki ponders on the fact that Izuku is here. In his arms. After all these fucking years.
(So, maybe—hopefully—he doesn't have anything to worry about.)
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note: i love relationship studies with this ship lol