Dog Canyon, Alamogordo, New Mexico

If things had gone according to plan, they would have been hero partners. But things never had gone according to plan, had they?

If the landscape of Japan in their first year had continued, Katsuki and Izuku most certainly would have been hero partners. But they'd made the mistake of being too good for a Japan in peacetime. And Katsuki hated to wish for a war, especially when he'd almost been killed in one, but it was against his nature not to push to be stronger. That's what he'd always strived for. And being stuck working without the person who made him better, who made him stronger, who shone light on his weak and blind spots was like walking with one eye closed. He could see, but where was his depth perception?

So they weren't partners. If they ever would be, it'd be because something went terribly wrong. That the hard-earned peace after the war hadn't lasted.

But here Izuku was, pointing out turns as Katsuki's rental rattled along a dirt road to a supposed canyon while the sun rose in front of him. And he wasn't Katsuki's second eye or right hand or brief investigation team-up member. He was the friend Katsuki had barely seen in a year. Who he'd just spent the last seventy-two hours with. And, surprisingly, it…hadn't been bad at all.

"What's that noise?" Izuku asked suddenly.

In an attempt to follow a bit of what Water Foul and Tap 'n Go had talked about yesterday, Katsuki and Izuku had decided to do another hike. Well, Izuku decided that they should do something fun and the only thing Katuski would agree to was a hike. Katsuki found it a bit ironic that they had to drive to go on a hike, but now a little irony was the least of his worries.

A flapping sound had been following them for a couple minutes, nearly blending in with the general rattle and bounce of driving on a dirt road. Because the road wasn't dirt, wasn't flat and even like the bulldozed dirt of a construction zone. It was dirt and gravel and rocks and tumbleweeds and one roadrunner that had kept pace with them for a solid ten seconds before darting into the thin brush. But now that Katsuki thought about it, that flapping was too regular to be anything natural. And when he realized what it was, he groaned and stopped the car.

"Get out," Katsuki commanded, hopping out of his side and slamming the door behind him.

It was too early in the morning to be hit by a true wall of heat, but Katsuki could already feel his pores waking up, ready to start sweating the moment the chill of the car's AC burned off. And this was going to be a sweaty, greasy task.

"Shoot, flat tire," Izuku said, drawing around the back and seeing the limp thing sitting low in the dirt. Probably punctured by one of the rocks or a particularly strong cactus needle.

"Obviously," Katsuki said, pocketing the keys as he went around the back of the truck. There was an extra tire mounted to the back, but he had no idea where the jack was, or the wrench. Katsuki opened the back door and it swung to the side, nearly nailing Izuku from his face to his torso, but his hero reflexes got him out of the way in time. Katsuki chuckled as he rooted around the back, finding the wrench, but unable to locate anything that looked like it would get that flat tire up off the ground.

"Fuck," Katsuki said, jumping out of the back and racking his mind. The car was a rental, and he didn't have car insurance, obviously. Wasn't even sure if they had cell signal way out on a dirt road.

"Got the tire off!" Izuku shared, holding the spare upright at his side and giving a thumbs up.

"Yeah, well, we don't have a jack, so unless you wanna roll on it back to town, it's not gonna do us much good."

"I can jack up the car."

Katsuki was about to argue, say no, idiot, this thing's gotta be two or three thousand kilos, but then he remembered just who he was stranded here with. So he shrugged and stepped out of the way as Izuku kneeled down at the back of the SUV.

He first used his rough hands to clear the ground under him of the worst gravel and pebbles before trying to kneel. When he did, he grimaced, lifting his knees up again before taking off his shirt. Already his skin was gleaming with sunblock and sweat glinting off the tops of his collarbones, his pectorals, his rows of abs. Katsuki couldn't help but stare for a moment, catalog the muscles, the scars before looking away purposefully. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

"Lemme take off the front first," Katsuki said, kneeling down beside him. He'd never changed a tire in his life—there wasn't nearly enough driving in Japan for him to have ever had to. But it wasn't more than a little unscrewing and rescrewing, and he was a quick learner.

He attached the wrench to the lug nuts and began tugging. Luckily, the car was fairly new, so there was no rust inhibiting the process and the first one came off nice and smooth. The rest followed and the hubcap all but fell off in a puff of dry dirt, like the earth exhaling.

"Okay, my turn," Izuku said as Katsuki backed away.

Izuku felt around underneath the car for a hand hold, presumably something that wouldn't cut into his already battered and bruised hands as they held up literal tons of weight. "Here it goes," he said, and with a muffled groan, the car creaked up.

Katsuki turned back to the wheel, knowing he had to move fast. He worked the tire off, tempted to throw the sucker into the brush with its spiky friends but knew that Izuku would never let him get away with it. Then he slotted the new one on and began work on returning the hubcap.

"Thanks for coming with me," Izuku grunted, head cocked sideways, his topmost eye squinting against either sweat, sunlight, or the strain of holding the car. Wisps of One For All whipped around Izuku, but not nearly as many as Katsuki might have expected. Izuku was using mostly his own strength, and the thought made Katsuki dry in the mouth. He needed some water.

"What're you talking about? I'm the one who likes hiking. And you're stuck under a car right now."

"Well, I wasn't sure you'd want to come," Izuku replied. "I know you're just here to work and I've already distracted you quite a bit."

His voice was strained and it made Katsuki want to grab Izuku by the throat, wring the rest of his voice out. Or maybe make it even hoarser, show the real exertion that this task should be taking out of him. As it was, Izuku's traps were flexed to high heaven, taut and pronounced up against his shimmering neck. Every muscle, vein, sinew, and scar was jutting from his wrists up to his neck, but he wasn't shaking, the circulation in his legs wasn't cutting off, making his calves dark with pulsing blood as his knees whited out.

"This is still work," Katsuki said. "A good workout."

Izuku chuckled, somehow. "Seems like…"

A still-cool breeze swooped across the road and ruffled their hair as Katsuki screwed the last lug nut back on. It chilled the drying sweat on his skin while the sun began to creep overhead.

"I hope it's not too much of a bother that I'm here," Izuku continued, his top eye closed to the sweat drawing near it. Katsuki thought about reaching up and wiping it away, but refrained. "I understand if it is, but it's been a while since we've gotten to hang out together. So I've been enjoying it."

"Put the car down, you idiot."

"Oh good," Izuku sighed, slowly lowering the car with the kind of restraint and control that only existed when you weren't at your limit. Your limit was something you dropped like a hot pan. Izuku was able to lower the car like it was a simple bench press. Katsuki swallowed dryly. Where the hell had he put his water?

It was back in the car, he'd get it in a minute. In the meantime, he screwed the lug nuts again for good measure, watching as the car rolled just slightly with his efforts where Izuku had held it nearly still. Damn.

"We were gonna be partners," Katsuki reasoned quietly as he stood up, kicking the tire for good measure. Seemed properly attached. " 'Course it's fine."

Izuku scooped his shirt off the ground and flapped it once in the air to get the worst of the dirt out. When he put it on, the pastel blue was brown on one side and already turning dark with fresh sweat—filthy, but Izuku didn't seem much to care or notice. In fact, he flopped down on his seat and looked up at Katsuki with wide knees and a wider smile.

"It's nice to be a team again," he pronounced, thumping the tire with his fist. He probably had the strength to flatten the thing all over again doing that. Shoot, he definitely did.

"Yeah, for one week and one week only," Katsuki replied, picking up the flat and mounting it where the spare had gone. He wasn't so clean himself anymore either.

"Yeah, I guess," Izuku said, hoisting himself up. "I'm gonna make the most of it, though."

The warmth from the rising sun hit Katsuki's skin and pooled in his belly. "Yeah, yeah, get back in the car. We've still got a hike to do."

Not partners, but still a team.

Whatever that meant.

Dog Canyon, Alamogordo, New Mexico

"Slow down, Kacchan!"

"Not on your life," Katsuki called back. "Put a little One For All into it if you can't handle it."

He didn't want to slow down while they were still outpacing the sun. The mountain had blocked it out thus far, but the air was already growing warm. Sweat was collecting in Katsuki's sideburns and dripping down his neck. There'd be no slowing down till they reached the top.

"But Kacchan, the view!"

Katsuki whipped around to face Izuku, but stopped short when he saw over Izuku's shoulder. Or in any direction, really.

Because all around, were miles and miles of view.

The first thing Katsuki noticed were the many splotches of dark that now marked the ground of the Tularosa Basin. It only took a moment to piece together that they were the shadows of the enormous clouds that dappled the sky. He could see the whole shadows of all those cumulus clouds as they stretched over blocks and blocks of land. Past those, he could make out nearly the entire ring of mountains encasing the basin. If he put his thumb on this part of the map, he could probably see every kilometer of land his finger touched.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

" 'S not bad."

"Kacchan." Izuku nudged him with his shoulder. Katsuki caught a whiff of Izuku's deodorant, the notes of amber and musk extra sharp in the dry air.

"It's nice," Katsuki acquiesced.

"It's like flying without flying," Izuku said. "All the view, no quirk needed."

Even with their quirks, the views flying in Japan were never anything like this. There was always another building, another skyscraper, or at least a tall hill blocking things out. Here, it was endless.

When they made it to the top, the sun had caught up with them. Katsuki had drenched his tank top and drained half his water bottle. From all the way up there, they could make out his rental car as a little dot on the ground. The White Sands National Park was a pale paint stroke swiped across the land to the north. It went on and on, much larger than anything else they could make out besides the mountains.

"Sunscreen?" Izuku offered, slathering himself down again whilst holding out the coconut-scented tube.

"Nah," Katsuki said, taking out his own and getting to work. He'd probably sweat off the first round he'd put on already.

Katsuki lathered up his arms and legs and even pet his palms through his hair just to keep his scalp from going pink. Izuku had done just about the same and was capping his sunscreen when Katsuki stopped him.

"Idiot, your shirt was practically white already and is practically see-through with all your smelly sweat," Katsuki berated. "You gotta do underneath."

"Fine, I'll do the front," Izuku agreed, squeezing another dollop into his hand, "but I can't reach the back."

"I'll do the back."

Katsuki spurt his own sunscreen into his hand and snaked it up Izuku's shirt until his fingertips reached Izuku's freckled neck. His shirt really was soaked through with sweat, but Katsuki couldn't mind, not when they all sweat through their costumes on every patrol, every gym run. This was Izuku at his best, at his strongest.

His skin was so warm, especially his neck and shoulders. Katsuki was already hot from the hike, from the sun, but Izuku's warmth heated Katsuki through his chest to his cheeks. His sensitive fingertips took in every ripple of muscle as Izuku stretched to cover his whole front with sunblock, bulging and contracting with the same strength Katsuki had seen back in class. The guy was so strong now, it was hard to reconcile him with the dweeb Katsuki had known five years ago at all.

There were still little pink marks on Katsuki's arms from where Izuku had treated him the day before. And now here he was, more or less returning the favor. And it was okay to be together like this, making contact like this. Good, even. It was only strange because they had so many shared years of not doing this together, but that didn't mean they shouldn't have been doing it all along.

"That's it," Katsuki said, retracting his hand and wiping away the fresh sweat he'd gotten on his brow. "Time to go back down. I'm ready to train"

"Wait, I wanna take a picture first!" Izuku decided, reaching for his pocket to take out his phone.

"Sending Thumper an update?"

"No, I just want this for me," Izuku said, facing the camera towards himself. "Get in here, Kacchan."

"Tch, I don't do that."

"C'mon, we'll probably never be here again," Izuku insisted. "Don't you wanna remember?"

"Shut up, my memory is perfect," Katsuki said, but he slouched into frame anyway, stepping up right next to Izuku so he wouldn't be small in the background. "Go."

In the screen, they were both blown out by the sharp sunlight, but when Katsuki looked past that, he could see the sheer drop to the flatlands below and the endless sky above. And in between, Katsuki and Izuku had matching pink cheeks, a little too bright from the sun, and eyes a little too hidden by the sun's glare and their sweat-heavy bangs.

And for the life of him, Katsuki couldn't read what was in Izuku's eyes or his own.

White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico

"Okay, give it a good hit!" Katsuki shouted. "No pussyfooting!"

"Alright, stand back!"

"Don't tell me to stand back!"

Katsuki was out of range, the same spot that Izuku had been standing on day one as he'd been measuring Katsuki's explosions. Now Izuku was in the middle of the action, a metal sheet hanging from one of Blackwhip's tendrils as he readied to throw it.

"Now!" Izuku shouted, flinging the piece of metal before using Fa Jin to leap away.

The explosion that followed from the impact was huge, and it made Katsuki's eyes dance as he kept his eyes peeled for that sheet of metal, readying himself to duck. But it flew harmlessly out to the side leaving Katsuki blinking as he blindly held on to the sensor with the hand no longer weighed down by a gauntlet.

It had been Izuku's idea, of course. Nitroglycerin didn't just react from heat-based ignition, but from any physical impact. That was what made it so volatile. And while Katsuki's sweat wasn't exactly the same, it stood to reason that it might react the same way to pressure. Enter: Izuku flinging a sheet of metal at a sand-drenched puddle formed from emptying one of his gauntlets.

And as the explosion dissipated, the evidence was obvious.

Training with Izuku was better than training with anyone else.

Katsuki walked forward, shoes quickly crunching upturned chunks of sand that had been thrown from the hole that had cratered the ground. It was sizable, big enough for Katsuki and Izuku to lie down lengthwise and still not reach the edge. Nearly deep enough to fit coffins for both of them.

"Do you think we'll have to fill that in?" Izuku asked, jogging up to the scene. He seemed no worse for wear—just as sweaty as Katsuki was, and bare of most sand shrapnel.

"I think you have to." Katsuki grinned. "Mr. I'm here to regulate your quirk."

"Fine," Izuku said, not falling for the teasing for a moment before he was turning back to the scene and mumbling to himself. "What's the best way to go about this? Probably more of the sand will go in the hole than out with Air Force, but it's not especially effective. Ah, okay, I got it."

Katsuki walked back, grabbing his gauntlet to reattach and begin to refill it when Izuku released a few long tendrils of Blackwhip. His only support materials were his gloves, and the strands grew out of the wrists, stretching out away from each other like pinwheels. Then, he lowered them to the ground, and began pushing them like snowplows back toward the hole. It didn't take too long for the sand to build up higher than the tendrils, spilling out behind, but Izuku just released more to contain all of it that he could, scooping it back into the hole.

It was nothing like how the ground had been before the explosion, even with Izuku's attempts to tamp it down with his shoes, but it was no longer an enormous hole by the time he was done with it. And he turned back to Katsuki, pleased as punch.

"Now we just need to think about applications! I think I'd like to try it again with Air Force to see if I can make the explosion from a distance. That way, if there's time to plant the nitro beforehand, we could pull off an explosion from an even longer range than you can currently. Oh gosh, we really should just look up all the practical uses for nitroglycerin as an explosive and see which apply to us. Too bad we can't use our phones out here, 'cause I'd really like to look it up, but I guess we can just look it up for tomorrow—"

"Deku."

Izuku blinked up. "Kacchan?"

Who else talked that much? Who else had so much to say that was all so interesting and relevant and fresh? It was like he'd spent the last year in silence and just heard the crackle of the radio coming back on and it was almost too much for his lonely ears.

"Let's do this again."

Izuku cocked his head. "Well, yeah, we can just spar a little while you refill your gaunt—"

"No, I mean back home," Katsuki clarified. "We should be sparring and stuff. Training together. Again."

Izuku's eyes lit up and it squeezed Katsuki's stomach. Like he'd offered more than he thought he had. Like he'd promised something maybe he wasn't ready to. "I'd love that, Kacchan!"

"It's not a big deal." Katsuki shrugged. "And if you don't bring your A-game, I'm renegging."

Izuku clenched his fist and tugged it towards his chest. "Nothing to worry about there."

Katsuki wasn't worried. But if he wasn't worried, then what was that fluttering in his stomach?

"Whatever," Katsuki said, putting his gauntlet back on. "My turn this time."

Route US-70, Otero County, New Mexico

Katsuki's hands hurt. Enough so that, after hauling their shit back to the car, Katsuki had tossed Izuku the keys, claiming that he needed to learn how to drive better if he wanted to be useful. But really, just the idea of gripping the steering wheel made his joints ache.

Keeping up training like this would be a challenge. He had physical therapy exercises for strengthening and stretching his hands and wrists, but overuse and misuse weren't easy to come back from. But Katsuki wouldn't have traveled to this scorched plain if not for this opportunity and so why would he waste it piddling around, waiting for his hands to cooperate? It wasn't like there wouldn't be time to rest at home. He could probably challenge himself to take down his next five villains fully quirkless, make things a little interesting. Izuku would probably go wild for that.

But now he just needed to leave the damn Missile Range.

"Just turn! That car is dozens of meters away!"

"But it's going so fast!"

They'd been sitting at the turn off of the base and onto the main road for only a few minutes, but it seemed like forever to Katsuki. He was worn out, dehydrated, hungry, and furthermore, only a couple cars had passed them by, but no matter how far away they were, Izuku wouldn't turn while one was in sight. And in this land, sight went pretty far.

"Now!" Katsuki shouted as soon as the last car passed them, and Izuku yelled as he spun the wheel and hit the gas.

Katsuki clung to the door's handle, plastering his back against the seat as the car nearly fishtailed in its effort to make a left turn. Once again, Katsuki was reminded that SUV's rolled.

"If we end up in the ditch, I'm burying you in it!" Katsuki howled as Izuku spun the wheel the other way in an effort to straighten out in the lane.

Somehow, despite this country being as flat as Izuku's humor, the road managed to have ditches on both sides, just before the wire fencing that was supposedly enough to keep anyone who wanted to offroad off. Though they'd learned just the other day that that last part was as wishful as a mirage.

"I got it, I got it!" Izuku cried, finding the lines and fitting the enormous car between them.

"You better, or you'll remember what I said about dragging this tin can back to Texas yourself."

"I got it," Izuku huffed and, so long as there wasn't another left turn, he probably did.

Katsuki watched as Izuku's hands relaxed slightly on the wheel, clearly having an easier time than he'd had up the winding mountain the other day. The skin tone around his scars evened out and Katsuki had to look closer to see them. Izuku's hands were more visibly bruised than Katsuki's were, and it was possible that they hurt just as much behind the wheel now as Katsuki's would. It would be just like Izuku not to say anything, to be happy to spare Katsuki the pain and take it himself.

"Hey, idiot," Katsuki said. "Do your hands hurt?"

"Hmm?" Izuku's eyes darted quickly over to Katsuki before quickly minding his mirrors and then the road in front of him again. "No, not usually. Every once in a while."

"Well, you should say when they do," Katsuki said. "I could do the same shit you did."

"A massage?"

"Yeah, that."

Izuku smiled. From the side, it made his cheek look extra round and freckled. "Okay, Kacchan."

The air conditioning was finally cooling a bit of the sweat off of Katsuki's skin. Honestly, if the sand didn't ruin this rental car, then the layers of sweat in the front seat for Izuku's and Katsuki's backs would force the rental company to retire the car. The desert was unforgiving.

They'd probably gotten burned again too. Despite Katsuki's best efforts, the skin on the tops of his ears and shoulders just felt a little too tight, too warm, even with the air conditioning. He'd have to bathe in aloe back at the motel. The motel, which—

"Where're you going?" Katsuki asked when Izuku missed the turn off for their motel. "I said turn left—I know you're not that bad."

"We're going to the Mexican place!" Izuku answered, turning into a parking lot just a couple intersections later. "After all that training, I'm starving."

It was possible that they were both a bit too sweaty and stinky to be allowed into a restaurant, and Katsuki could easily demand they go home to shower off before they did anything else. But, like it or not, Katsuki was hungry, and certainly couldn't subsist off of the vending machine and horror breakfasts at the motel.

"Fine," Katsuki said as Izuku managed to find a shady spot to park in, and do a decent job of it. "Let's see what this is all about."

When they were seated at their table, it became clear that it was mainly about one thing: chiles.

"Red or green?"

Katsuki stared blankly at the waitress, who was smiling, though perhaps equally blank. Before Katsuki's eyes could burn holes through the woman, Izuku asked, "Um, what exactly? Is red or green?"

"The salsa," the woman spoke with a lilting accent. "Every dish comes with red or green chile or Christmas for both."

"Which is spicier?" Izuku asked.

"The green."

"I'll take that," Katsuki said, stepping in before Izuku could flat out order for him.

Izuku then placed his order, going with Christmas, probably just because the damn nerd was curious enough to want to try both, and then their menus were taken and they waited.

Waited alone. With no mountain to climb, no training to do, no villain to defeat.

Sitting across from each other. At a table for two. With nothing to do but look at each other.

Izuku took a chip from the basket in the center of the table, and the crunch was ear-shatteringly loud.

This was what Tap 'n Go and Water Foul had been talking about. This quiet side was the stuff that made a life. But if it was that important, if it was that universal, then why did Katsuki have to think so hard to do it? He was the best at so many challenging things, why should this be the thing that tripped him up?

"We're gonna have to train," Katsuki decided, taking a chip of his own and dipping it in the table salsa. Medium spicy at best.

"Yeah?" Izuku said through his chip. "Didn't we just decide that?"

"No, at this shit," Katsuki said, unscrewing the wooden cap of the table hot sauce. He drizzled a bit of it on a chip and ate it like that. Not bad. Improvement. "Doing nothing."

"Oh," Izuku mused. "Yeah. Well. We can definitely study. I guess we can watch TV and see what the characters do. Plus, watching TV is what a lot of people do when they're not working, so it's kind of a two-for-one."

"I don't wanna study the fake drama that dumbass TV characters get into," Katsuki retorted. "The second my life becomes like a k-drama, you'll be very busy with being a hero, because that's my villain origin story."

Izuku laughed. "Well, that would solve my problem at least!"

Katsuki scoffed. "Idiot."

It was clear Katsuki would have to do the planning. Izuku had always been good at following his lead—too good. In fact, if he was honest, Izuku would be the one to carry it over the finish line after Katsuki laid the groundwork. Katsuki just had to figure out what that shit was.

He was given a reprieve when the sound of sizzling came from around the corner, and two hot plates appeared in front of them.

"Chile relleno? Chicken enchilada?"

Well, sure enough. The chile was delicious.