"Hey," Katsuki said. He pushed a stray curl out of Izuku's eyes and traced a delicate line down his cheek. He'd been trying to pluck up the courage to ask him to come to the UA Christmas party with him for weeks now, but he always backed out at the last second. Katsuki had never feared rejection in his life, but now the thought of Izuku's pretty pink lips forming the word no seemed like the single worst thing that could possibly happen. He was running out of time, though, and he was going to fucking man up and do it. Today. Now, he thought, putting a metaphorical foot down in his mind.
"Hey, yourself, handsome," Izuku said, stretching across the bed like a cat and burrowing himself into Katsuki's side. Izuku was always at his calmest during their post-coital snuggle sessions, and Katsuki figured this was the best moment to ask him.
"Would you like to be my plus one for the Class A Christmas party?" Katsuki said it in quick, frantic succession. He felt like he was facing a firing squad. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes, waiting for the bullet to burrow into his delicate, mortal flesh. Izuku's silence wasn't helping to ease the tension either.
"Um, I don't know."
Well, at least it wasn't a flat out no. Katsuki tried to release the breath he'd been holding in a way that Izuku wouldn't notice.
"Okay…. Can we expand on that?"
"You sound like my therapist," Izuku said, a light laugh ghosting across the skin of Katsuki's neck. He shivered, he couldn't help it.
"I wasn't trying to. I'd just like it if you came." Katsuki felt odd asking for something. In their three months of tentative non-dating, Katsuki hadn't once asked Izuku for anything. He was always sure to move at Izuku's pace. He hadn't realized how imbalanced their give and take was until that moment.
"Again? Well, if you insist," Izuku said, cutting off his own mischievous laugh when he kissed Katsuki's neck, his hand trailing slowly down Katsuki's stomach. His hand had just grazed across his hip bone when Katsuki came to his senses and stopped his hand from going any lower.
"Very funny." He interlocked their fingers and pulled their hands up to a safer, less distracting territory. "I'm being serious, though."
"I know, but I don't know if I'm ready for that."
"Ready for what?" He asked, knowing exactly what he wasn't ready for. Something in Katsuki curled up in dejection.
"Well, it sounds a lot like a date."
"I believe I specifically said plus one," Katsuki said. He was very careful never to mention the D-word around Izuku. Nothing made him retreat quite like that word. Izuku raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.
"Okay, then what does being your plus one entail?"
"We'll show up together, hang out with our friends, drink some punch—Ashido always spikes it, and Todoroki gets sloshed because no one tells him about it. Last year, he walked up to me, kissed me full on the mouth, and said he hated me—all with a straight face. To this day, I don't think he remembers it."
Katsuki was rambling, but it made Izuku smile, so it wasn't a total loss.
"That sounds like fun, Kacchan," Izuku said, a small concession.
"Uraraka and Iida will be there. When's the last time you saw them?" Katsuki felt like a used-car salesman, trying to sell him on every angle possible. He felt like he might be pushing too hard. Izuku sighed, and sat up on his elbow, extricating himself from Katsuki.
"Kacchan, why do you want me to go so bad?"
"I just think it would be fun. I like spending time with you, and I know you'll be with your mom for the holidays, so…." he said, trailing off because he was fighting a losing battle and he couldn't think of anything else to say. Izuku eyed him, pursing his lips like was thinking really hard about it.
"Fine. I'll go, but only because I want Todoroki to mouth-kiss me." Izuku's smile was wry, and the slightest bit anxious. Katsuki rolled so he was on top of him, caging him in. Katsuki made an odd half-growl, half-laugh that sounded vaguely possessive.
"If anyone's going to mouth-kiss you, it'll be Ashido. She's creepily obsessed with you."
"I don't want to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole." Izuku's smile widened, and his hands traced the planes of his chest, collarbones, abs. Katsuki very nearly moaned.
"I can think of something else you can touch." Katsuki smirked, and Izuku scoffed, but he took it as permission to run his hands even lower. Katsuki did moan that time.
"Very smooth segue, Kacchan," he whispered sweetly against Katsuki's half-opened mouth.
And when they kissed, it felt like a perfect moment. Katsuki was excited. He felt like he won something—a holiday party with the person he loved.
If Katsuki's mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, he might've choked with surprise at the thought. Love. He turned the word over in his head, and firmly decided that was the only word that could ever accurately describe the way he was feeling.
—
The Class A Christmas party was a relatively quiet affair—or as quiet as it could be with Ashido in attendance. Everyone, barring Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jiro, was in attendance. Katsuki was never once for forced social interactions, but he took comfort in the fact that he had Izuku next to him. And the party was fun, someone always made a fool of themselves in one way or another. It was interesting to see how everyone had changed, and how they were all the same. Even after years, all the little cliques they'd broken into in school held strong. And yet, some relationships got stronger. So many of his classmates paired off after school. Iida and Sero has been together since they were nineteen. Todoroki and Yaomomo dated all through high school and never broke up. He'd never paid so much attention to the way people look at each other, but he did now.
Now that he had his own method of comparison, he couldn't help but see the fondness in a person's eyes when they were looking at the one they loved most. He wondered if everyone could see it as clearly as he did, when they watched him with Izuku.
"Midoriya, what are you doing here?" Uraraka squealed as soon as they crossed the threshold of their old homeroom. She flung her arms around him, and he spun her around once before putting her back on the ground.
"Kacchan invited me. I've missed you," he said, a genuine smile breaking over his face.
"I know. It's rotten luck that I moved as soon as you finally moved to Musutafu."
"Not that rotten. You work with the top rescue agency in Japan. Congrats on making the top 10."
Uraraka beamed at him before her attention shifted to Katsuki.
"Kacchan, huh? The last time I saw you, you were eating a faceful of mat. Watching Midoriya kick your ass was a top 5 moment in my life."
"Well, you clearly have a very boring life then, Round Face. Quit crowding my plus one," Katsuki grumbled, pushing past her to get to the line of desks with snacks and punch, just for something to do. Izuku stayed behind, and he'd noticed Iida had joined their conversation. He'd never seen Izuku interact with anyone other than Shindo before, it was nice to see him so loosened up. It was nice to see the differences in the way he treated his friends, and the way he treated him. It cemented something for Katsuki. He knew Izuku cared for him, but it proved just how much. He was getting lost in his thoughts when Ashido sidled up to him.
"Boo!" She bellowed. Katsuki barely kept himself from jumping in surprise.
"Wrong holiday," he said, eyeing the shitty assortment of sweets on the desks. "The punch spiked yet?"
"Not yet. Sero and Shoji are on distraction duty. I'm waiting for the signal." She pointed as subtly as she could at Shoji's broad back, and Sero, gesticulating wildly in Aizawa's personal space. Shoji sprouted another arm on one of his tentacles, and it gave a thumbs up. Katsuki watched as a bottle of vodka seemed to materialize out of thin air and Ashido poured more than half of it into the deep red liquid.
"Where's Kirishima? I thought he was coming tonight."
"He got called in last minute. I told him not to wait so long to ask off, but you know him."
"Yeah, he can't plan for shit." Katsuki filled two plastic cups with the spiked punch, and held one up on Ashido's direction, clinking it with hers. "Cheers. Merry fuckin' Christmas, Pinky."
"Make sure you keep your boyfriend away from the mistletoe. I'll be waiting for my chance to plant one on him." She winked, and sipped her punch.
"He's not my boyfriend. And I've already warned him about you, so keep your hands to yourself." Katsuki hated denying the boyfriend title, but the truth was they weren't. At least, not at the moment. Katsuki was holding out hope, but he wasn't in any rush.
"No promises," she said, punching his arm as she passed by him.
Katsuki wandered over to the growing crowd of people harassing his… plus one—lover? Friend with benefits? He didn't have a name for what Izuku was to him, but he didn't need one. Izuku himself was enough.
"Hey, got you the good stuff," he said as he handed Izuku the extra cup of punch. Izuku took it with a grateful smile. Katsuki hoped he wasn't standing too close to Izuku.
Ashido pushed through the throng of people to place herself at Izuku's other shoulder, "And I've got more of the good stuff in my purse, if you need it. Ashido Mina, by the way. I'm a big fan."
Izuku shot her a mischievous smile and motioned to his cup, "More, please!"
Ashido was only too happy to dump a generous amount of vodka into his cup. It started to overflow, and they both giggled and hissed profanities, shooting looks at Aizawa in the corner. Katsuki smiled at the scene before him. He didn't give a shit if his friends liked Izuku or not, but the fact that they did filled him with pride. How could they not like him?
Izuku took a giant gulp from his cup and promptly winced, but shot Ashido an approving look once he recovered. After everyone's initial obsession with the newcomer passed, they all drifted back to different corners of the room, schmoozing and drinking with reckless abandon. Katsuki found himself alone much of the night. Izuku was popular, and more than happy to make connections. Katsuki would drift around him, picking up bits and pieces of the conversation. Mostly, he talked about his students. He'd heard both Shoji and Tokoyami agree to come to the school and talk to his General Heroics classes about dealing with Mutant Quirk discrimination. He spent a lot of time talking with Shinso, too, and Katsuki realized that they must be friends. They'd been working together for a long time. He wondered why Izuku never mentioned him.
Uraraka found him in the corner, sipping lightly on his drink. He was pleasantly tipsy, but starting to feel like Izuku might be deliberately avoiding him. He couldn't tell if that was the alcohol speaking, or if it was actually happening. Every now and then he'd catch Izuku's eye, and Izuku would smile at him the same way he did when they were alone. It was a balm to his nerves, but it wasn't exactly enough for him.
"So, you and Midoriya? I'm honestly surprised by that," Uraraka said casually. Katsuki and Uraraka weren't friends, by any means, but they had a certain amount of respect for each other. And he knew how much she cared for Izuku—he saw it in their friendly embrace earlier in the night.
"I just thought he'd have a good time tonight. Looks like I was right," he said, watching Izuku toss a piece of fudge into Sero's mouth from across the room—despite Iida's vehement protests. They both cheered and hugged when Sero caught it. Katsuki looked away when Sero grabbed Iida and stuck his tongue down his throat. Not even Iida could say no to the object of his affection. Katsuki wondered briefly how he'd managed to ignore all the love around him for so long. It was so glaringly apparent these days.
"Midoriya and Quake are done then?" She still tried to maintain her casual tone, but she sounded a little too desperate for information.
"I think you've known Izuku long enough to know that he doesn't want to talk about Quake, and it's not my information to spill."
"How noble of you. Seems like he's chosen well, then. I can tell you like him, even if you're not exactly together." Her choice of words had him whipping his head around to look at her, and she returned his gaze a little too knowingly. Katsuki looked away again and sipped his drink.
"I'm happy for you both, and I hope it works out. Midoriya deserves all the happiness he can come by." She paused, took a long sip of her drink, and said, "And I guess you do, too, you big grump."
"Ugh, get your shitty sentimentality away from me," he said, even though he was giddy and light on the inside. Validation was something he'd take from anyone willing to give it—it was even better that it was coming from one of Izuku's best friends.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know you're a big softy under all that machismo—Oh, look," Uraraka said, pointing to a very drunk Ashido. She'd run into Aizawa, and the near empty bottle of vodka fell out of her purse. Ashido was too inebriated to cover up her crime. Aizawa sighed.
"I know the punch is spiked. I've known it every year—you're not kids anymore. Just be responsible," he said, and sauntered away.
"It's what?" Todoroki asked, staring from his cup to the punch bowl on the table in mute horror. Everyone in the room—even Yaomomo—howled with laughter. Katsuki gave a half-hearted chuckled, but he was more concerned about the fact that Aizawa was pulling Izuku away from the group. He caught Izuku's eye right before they left the room, and he looked like a scolded puppy. Katsuki had to resist the urge to follow them out.
—
"That was fast," Aizawa said without preamble once they were out of the room.
"What?"
"How long did you wait after breaking up with Quake before jumping into bed with the number 5 hero?"
"That's not—" Izuku started to defend himself, but Aizawa cut him off.
"Do you like making a spectacle of yourself?"
Izuku was silent, so taken aback, but he shook his head. His hands were shaking. He was having such a good night. Why, now, did Aizawa decide to scold him?
"Kid, you're far too talented and driven to have your career end as nothing more than a punchline in the pages of a magazine."
"I'm not—" But he was, wasnt he? A joke, a punchline. He had no real defense. Not even his students took him seriously. Aizawa reminded him of that on a daily basis.
"Get your priorities straight, Midoriya. You're a hero—and a teacher—not a reality TV star."
"If I'm so talented and special, then why I am the one getting blamed? Why aren't you talking to Kacchan like this?" Izuku knew he shouldn't shift blame to Kacchan. Izuku was the one who started everything, after all. Kacchan just went along with it.
"Because until he got involved with you, Bakugo had had a pristine reputation. He knows how to keep his drama out of headlines. He's easily one of the most prolific heroes of this generation, and he doesn't deserve to have his career tarnished either."
"Why do you think there's drama? Why can't I be happy? Kacchan is…. He makes me happy, okay? Why is that so bad?" Izuku asked, and he was all too aware of the wetness prickling in his tear ducts. Aizawa was probably the closest thing he ever had to a father figure, and now he was mercilessly reaming him out. Izuku couldn't feel anything other than deep-seated embarrassment, and maybe some soul-crushing desperation to win back the approval Aizawa never actually gave him.
"You can be happy without declaring your fickle love for each other all over Winstagram."
"When have I ever done that? That thing with Quake… I never wanted that. I kept it from the media for so long."
"And then you didn't."
"So, you want me to be like you and Joke? Hiding in your apartment every chance you get?"
Aizawa looked like Izuku had punched him in the gut. He knew he'd hit below the belt, but Izuku was so hurt, and when he was hurt, he lashed out. He continued, digging himself deeper.
"You live three doors down from me. Don't think I haven't seen you two."
"My private life is just that—private," he said, all but snarling. He'd never seen Aizawa lose his cool, and Izuku was regretting pushing him that far.
"Out. I'm done with this conversation." Aizawa dismisses him coldly, and Izuku refused to stand his ground. He left, thankful to have the conversation done with. He rubbed his eyes, hoping none of his stupid, childish tears actually spilled. He didn't want to go back to the party, so he paced the halls trying to get himself under control.
"Midoriya," a soft, deep voice permeated the hallway he'd hidden in. Izuku rubbed his eyes one last time, and put on a brave face.
—-
Izuku and Aizawa were gone for far too long for comfort. Each moment agitated Katsuki, and he found himself unable to join in the general merriment of the rest of the group. When Aizawa discreetly came back in the room sans Izuku, Katsuki's worry spiked further. He excused himself to find Izuku, feeling a little frantic.
After a few hasty minutes of searching the halls, he found Izuku in a stairwell. With Shinso.
Katsuki tried not to feel possessive, he really did. He tried to take comfort in the fact that Izuku wasn't alone when he was obviously upset. He was friends with Shinso—colleagues even, and Shinso and Aizawa always had some weird mind meld with each other. Maybe hashing it out with Shinso was the best course of action, Katsuki's jealousy be damned. There was no gratuitous touching, or anything untoward happening, and yet, all Katsuki could think was why wasn't it me? Why wasn't I the person you came to?
"Hey," he said softly. Izuku jumped when he spoke. Shindo seemed to expect him. He and Katsuki exchanged looks, it was like the eye contact equivalent of passing a baton.
"It'll be okay, Midoriya. I'll see you later, alright?" Shinso said, and he clapped Izuku on the shoulder in his awkward, blatantly platonic way. It assuaged someone Katsuki's selfish worries. When Shinso was out of earshot, Katsuki moved closer to Izuku.
"What happened?" He placed his hands on Izuku's drooping shoulders. He ran his hands up and down his arms, in a sad attempt to comfort him. Izuku shook his head, but he allowed the contact.
"I just want to leave."
"I'll go with you. I'm not a fan of prolonged social exposure anyway." Katsuki gave him a sympathetic smile, and Izuku seemed to crumble further. He put his hands in the pockets of Katsuki's slacks and pulled him close.
"Thank you," he said, his head buried in Katsuki's chest. He carded a hand through Izuku's curls, and kissed his head for good measure.
"Want to get some real food before we head home?" Katsuki asked, thinking of all the shitty, insubstantial sweets at that table. Izuku must be hungry.
"Can we call for takeout instead?"
Katsuki chuckled and held him closer, so thankful that he got to hold and comfort Izuku. He'd been hungry to touch him all night, but he wished he wasn't so distressed.
"Let's go home," he said, not specifying who's home, but knowing all the same that they were heading to the same place, and wherever Izuku was was as good as home to him.
He was silent the whole way back to Katsuki's apartment, aside from the call he made to order a feast of Indian food. The only time they spoke to each other was when Izuku asked him what he wanted. The fact that they Ubered back to the apartment prevented him from holding his hand on the way home.
When they were finally alone, Katsuki pulled him into him, and Izuku didn't protest. Izuku cleared his throat, and spoke into his chest.
"Let's keep this to ourselves from now on," he said, and then added, "Please."
—-
"I wasn't trying to parade you around to my friends, or anything. I really thought you'd have fun tonight. What the hell happened?"
Izuku wanted to tell Kacchan everything. Up to that point, he'd been very honest with him about every little thing that popped into his head. This was too embarrassing to put out into the universe. He couldn't rehash it with Kacchan for fear of giving Aizawa's accusations any more power. He didn't want to think about tarnishing Kacchan. He didn't want to linger on the fact that maybe he didn't want to keep whatever they had a secret, he didn't have a choice.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, and he must've sounded as exhausted as he felt because Kacchan let it go easily. For once, they didn't have sex. Neither of them seemed to be in the mood, even if it would've helped Izuku to stop thinking. Instead, they laid face to face with their heads pressed together, lips occasionally brushing until they drifted off. Izuku felt like he could breathe Kacchan in, and that was a small comfort. He never knew he could feel so much by doing so little.
Izuku woke to the sound of a heavy metal guitar. He physically jolted out of bed, mumbling something incoherent he might've been saying in his dream only seconds ago. Kacchan woke much more peacefully, despite the raucous cymbal-bashing happening around him. He gave a long, languid stretch before he turned off the alarm.
"That's your alarm?" Izuku asked, puffing out shaky breaths. Kacchan had the gall to chuckle.
"If it's not obnoxiously loud, I won't get up right away," he said, pulling on Izuku's wrist to bring him horizontal again.
"I think I'm having a stroke. Holy shit. What time is it?"
"A bit before six." He wrapped his legs around Izuku and kissed his neck. Half-asleep Kacchan was always handsy and affectionate. Izuku allowed himself a small smile, despite the fact that the shock of the alarm had his heart beating frantically.
"What time do you work today?"
"Eight. I'll be back at one."
"I guess I should go, then?" Izuku asked. Kacchan's arms tightened his hold.
"You don't have to. I could leave you my key. Take your time—restart your heart." He chuckled again and kissed his cheek. Kacchan's palm pressed against Izuku's chest, feeling his stuttering heartbeat. Somehow, once his heart went back to normal, he fell back asleep. He half-registered a fully-dressed Kacchan kiss his hair before he left.
"Just take the key with you when you go. I'll pick it up after work."
Izuku's only response was to pull the covers up around his neck. He was pretty sure Kacchan laughed again. It was a great send-off.
When he woke again, he was surprised to find that it was nearly 11. Izuku rarely slept in so late. Usually, it made him feel groggy to sleep for long. Instead, he felt refreshed. He made himself a cup of coffee with Kacchan's fancy coffee-maker, in his fancy kitchen. He liked Kacchan's apartment. He moved about the space in a familiar way, savoring the quiet and the natural light streaming in from the high-rise picture windows. He found that he didn't want to leave, so he didn't.
When Kacchan called him at 1:30, he was still in Kacchan's baggy sweats and an Earphone Jack tank top. He'd wrapped the cashmere throw blanket on the couch around him, and settled on the couch with a well-worn copy of The Little Prince—the thinnest book on Kacchan's neat shelves.
"How was work?" Izuku asked.
"Quiet. Where are you?"
"On your couch," Izuku said, twirling the loose threads on the end of the blanket around his finger.
"Really?" Kacchan sounded surprised, but Izuku also detected a hint of contentment. Izuku smiled.
"Yes, really. I have a weakness for fine home furnishings," he said, in as pragmatic a tone as he could manage.
"You sure it's not a weakness for something else?"
"Fishing for compliments, are we?"
Kacchan laughed. "Maybe a little. I'll see you soon."
—
The door was unlocked, just as Katsuki left it this morning. Despite the dreary December weather, Katsuki felt warm and light when he entered his apartment. When he saw Izuku curled up on the couch in a nest of pillows and that stupid throw his mom made him buy, the feeling intensified. He went straight to him, pulled into orbit again. Katsuki was inexplicably tethered to Izuku in a way he'd never been by anyone or anything else. Nothing could keep him away. Izuku came with his own gravity, and Katsuki responded to it without a fight. He settled on top of him because he could quite tell where Izuku was under his mountain of throw pillows. Izuku gave a light oof, but he didn't complain.
"Welcome home," Izuku said softly. He seemed calm, like he belonged there—a permanent fixture among Katsuki's scant possessions. He kissed his nose.
"I like coming home to you," Katsuki said, unable to think of scaring Izuku away because he was plagued by fuzzy feelings. Like clockwork, he could feel the small uptick of anxiety in the air. The little warning bell that said too much, too soon. In so many aspects of their relationship, they moved at the speed of light. In others, they were crawling. Katsuki didn't mind it so much, he was happy with their tentative, nameless existence with one another.
Katsuki eyed the book on the coffee table. His dad's copy of The Little Prince sat unopened next to an empty coffee cup.
"Did you read it?"
"I only got as far as looking at the pictures. Is it a children's book?"
Katsuki shook his head, but his words contradicted the action. "It could be, but I don't think a kid would really appreciate it. I didn't appreciate it the first time I read it."
"When was that?"
"My dad made me read it when I was fourteen. Pretty much right after you moved away," he said, reaching for the book. Katsuki felt uneasy discussing the past. They never talked about. Whenever Katsuki tried, Izuku would clam up, say he didn't want to talk about it because it didn't matter.
"He made you? I can't imagine anyone telling you what to do at that age."
No one could tell Katsuki anything at that age—it was still a major feat for most people these days, but his dad always had a certain way with him and his mom. He always did things so gently, you almost didn't realize he was guiding you until it was too late.
"I had a tough time after the sludge villain attack. I was angry that I needed to be saved—and then you were just gone, and I was angry about that too. I thought I deserved and explanation from you, or something. Then, I started UA, and I wasn't a big fish in a small pond anymore." Katsuki never thought too much about the past until recently. He couldn't know if he was retroactively applying his fondness for Izuku to those memories or not. He never let himself reflect on his feelings for too long when he was younger. Everything was anger and rage with no nuance.
"Anyway, my dad sat me down and told me that every young person should read this book at least once. I've read it about a thousand times since then."
"What's so special about it?"
"I don't know. It just is. It's about growing up, among other things. You should take it home with you. I think you'd like it."
Izuku smiled at him, and plucked the tiny book from his hand. "I'll consider it an early Christmas gift then."
"Have you eaten anything today?"
Izuku shook his head, looking sheepish.
"Idiot. Come on, I'll make you lunch." Katsuki stood up, and Izuku unearthed himself from the mountain of blankets.
"I think I've overstayed my welcome. I should probably head home."
"Don't be stupid. You can stay as long as you want. Stay all night." Stay forever, he thought. Katsuki genuinely wouldn't mind.
"Alright. Only because you begged, though." He smiled, and then it dropped and he added, "And change that horrible alarm!"
FEBRUARYKacchan was on top of him, caging him in. He couldn't quite remember when Kacchan gained enough confidence to do that in the few months they'd been sleeping together, but he wasn't opposed to it. Sometimes, when Kacchan took charge like this, he unwittingly thought of Shindo. He didn't want to, but he couldn't help but compare them. It was like trying to compare seahorses to dragonflies, so different that felt silly for even trying. Kacchan kissed him, their moments pleasure finally passing into post-coital doting.
"I love your freckles, and your hair, and the way your nose crinkles when you think I'm being stupid," he said, so light that it was almost just a breath shared between them.
Izuku knew what Kacchan was really saying when he said those things. He knew he was hedging around the thing he would rather say, but kept it to himself for fear of scaring Izuku.
Izuku waited for that inevitable feeling—for the cage to fold around him and suffocate him until he couldn't stand to be around him, but it never came. When Kacchan said those things, it felt right. It felt true. It felt like coming home.
Something about that scared the shit out of Izuku. It was almost worse than the cage because what if that feeling went away? What if he stopped feeling giddy and love struck and whole? What if Kacchan stopped saying those things? What if the cage closed around him even tighter?
What did he ever do to deserve so much affection, and who was he to enjoy it? Where would he be when it inevitably soured? Izuku couldn't afford to be broken, not anymore than he already was. And suddenly he was crying. How could he ever explain any of that to Kacchan?
"Hey, what's wrong?" Katsuki brushed his hair off his face to better see his shame.
"I'm just… I don't know. I'm having a moment," he whispered lamely. It came out like a whine.
"It's alright. Have your moment. I'll be here." Katsuki kissed his eyelids and his cheeks where the tears ran down his face, and the nose he claimed to love so much before he placed the sweetest kiss on his lips.
Izuku wanted to be caged in by this kind of affection. He wanted to stay there and wallow for days, subsisting purely on Kacchan's kisses and sweet nothings. He wanted to take it all in and memorize it because, really, how long could this last? Everything ran its course eventually.