Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku had never had a Christmas date.
It might not have seemed like that big of a deal on the surface, but being alone on the biggest date night of the year tended to get to him in ways he probably needed to talk to his therapist about.
The problem wasn't just that he wanted a date. He could have had a date if he wanted. He was named one of Tokyo's most eligible bachelors at the ripe old age of twenty one, after all.
The real problem was that there was only one person he actually wanted to go out with. One explosive, emotionally-stunted, former bully turned best friend whom Izuku had had a crush on since he could remember. The one person he refused to let himself want for any number of reasons he often muttered to himself about in the shower after long days working side by side.
It couldn't work.
But then of course, Izuku had forgotten to factor in the most important thing. Katsuki himself.
Two weeks before Christmas, he'd been finishing up a report from his latest rescue when his office door flew open, revealing a determined looking Bakugo Katsuki, uniform half hanging from his waist and mask pushed up on his forehead in a way that Izuku definitely didn't fantasise about.
"Oi, Deku. You got a date for Christmas?"
It was so out of the blue, Izuku could only manage to stutter out the word, "N-no."
"You do now."
The door slammed shut and Katsuki was gone as quickly and abruptly as he came. And that was that.
In hindsight, it was probably the most Katsuki thing he could have done. Bold and brash in the face of something Izuku had taken years to try to deal with.
Not that he was unsure of his feelings. That strange but intoxicating mix of awe and competition and love had been surging through his veins since he could remember. But giving voice to that was another matter entirely.
They'd danced around each other ever since their second year at UA. Inseparable after trauma shaped every bit of their lives, they'd moved to Tokyo together, wound up at the same agency after graduation, lived next to each other, and had even discussed getting a shared apartment because they usually wound up crashing on each other's couches anyway.
Sometimes Izuku tried to flirt and failed miserably. Most times Katsuki regaled him with how shitty he was at being a functioning human being.
They were basically a couple in everything but name. Well, that and the whole, no kissing, no fucking and no actual dating thing.
Izuku had long reasoned that as much as he wanted more with Katsuki, he couldn't risk what they'd built. It had taken the better part of their lifetimes to get to where they were, and what they had was so precious to him, he couldn't begin to fathom what his life would look like without it.
So, naturally, as the day grew closer, Izuku began to panic.
What if this all went wrong? What if he lost Katsuki? What if it was some kind of terrible joke, and he was too blinded by his feelings to realise it? How could Katsuki possibly want this with him?
His mind went at it from every angle, hours were spent into the early morning scribbling in a notebook he usually kept hidden at the back of his bookshelf labelled Kacchan PERSONAL.
He was about ready to call it off when a well-timed text came through to his phone early on Christmas Eve.
Inadvertently, he'd avoided Katsuki as much as he could, needing to put space between them so he could think, and apparently, Katsuki had noticed.
Stop being such a deku. I want this. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't. Just enjoy it, you stupid fuck.
Izuku smiled, and let out a watery laugh, finally letting himself feel the excitement he'd held at bay, when another text came through.
And don't you dare wearing those fucking red shoes.
He went through the rest of the day practically floating, not even bothered when he got sent on a call for a robbery thirty minutes before his shift was about to end. He and another sidekick could knock it out in no time and he'd have plenty of time to run home to shower and change before meeting Katsuki.
It was fine. Everything was going really well.
But then chaos erupted and the villain's web-like substance attached to a van parked on the street, swinging it into roadside stands that sent any number of objects flying into the air.
Izuku rushed to shield two young children that were nearby from the falling debris, vaguely registering when someone yelled, "Hero Deku, watch out!"
But it was too late, and he could only brace himself as a metal bar careened towards his head. His last thought was an apology for Katsuki he hoped to deliver in person before the world went black.
oOo
He shot up with a gasp, breath taken by his panic and nearly debilitating pain that shot through his head. A series of jumbled words ran through his head.
Hospital. Hurt. Villain. Christmas.
Kacchan.
Green lightning licked his skin, and a monitor that was seemingly connected to his heartbeat started to beep so quickly an alarm sounded.
"Midoriya-san!" A nurse ran in and stopped just a metre inside the door, eyes frightened as she took him in. She spread her arms out in front of her. "You need to lay back down." But Izuku refused, unable to voice but desperate for her to understand how vital it was that he found Katsuki.
"Kacchan," he rasped. "I need Kacchan."
"It's going to be alright, Midoriya-san," she said, her voice nervous while she scooted against the wall towards the computer on the other side of the room. "You just have a concussion. I'm sure whoever you're looking for will be here soon."
Izuku shook his head, looking around the room to calculate how easily he could escape if she didn't start listening. "But he doesn't know I'm here! We were supposed to go on a date, and he doesn't know I'm-"
A familiar, gravely voice filled the room, interrupting him. "Shitty Deku. Can't even leave you asleep for five minutes without you losing your fucking mind."
"Kacchan," the relief in his voice was palpable as he let Katsuki's voice roll over him. He took in the sight of his oldest friend. His person. Grumpy and abrasive as he may be, Izuku would never get tired of seeing him. "You found me."
"'Course I did," he said, plopping down in the chair next to the bed. "I'm your emergency contact, you fucking idiot."
The words were harsh, but his tone was so affectionate, Izuku completely missed the nurse injecting something into the IV in his arm.
Warmth flooded him and it took the span of a minute for him to realise it wasn't just because of the look Katsuki was giving him.
He caught sight of the nurse leaving the room with a syringe in her hand. "I think she drugged me, Kacchan," he whispered limbs suddenly feeling heavy.
Katsuki let out a huff of a laugh. "No, shit, genius," he said, leaning back in the chair with his hands behind his head. The picture of nonchalance. "You know they save the best stuff for the pros. You should thank her before you leave."
Izuku's eyes widened in horror. "They what?" The ethical implications of such a thing were terrible to think about. Saving the better drugs for heroes surely broke some kind of law. And sure, the Seventeen Rules of Enjuin was kind of outdated, but he was pretty certain one of them was about being devoted to loving people, and how was that being loving if you saved the better pain meds for only a certain class of people? Honestly, he could-
"For fucks sake, Deku. You're mumbling. It was a joke. You need to calm down before you kill the last remaining braincell you have."
Izuku forced himself to lay back against the pillows on his bed. Eyes closed, he took a deep breath. "How bad is it this time? I just remember covering those kids and then a…bar coming towards me?"
He was certainly no stranger to hospitals. It was part of the job. But everytime he managed to land himself in one, he worried it might end his career. The war had beaten him up so badly, he wasn't entirely sure how he still had four functioning limbs.
"The kids are fine. But there was some talk about a concussion loyalty card program being started for you," Katsuki said with that mocking smirk of his he'd perfected over the years. "Every tenth one is free. Would save the agency a lot of money."
Izuku groaned and closed his eyes. "Not funny."
"It's a little fuckin' funny."
He opened one eye and glared. "How bad is it, really?"
"No lasting damage," Katsuki told him, his expression softening. "That quick of yours seems to want to keep you around, which is good because we've long established you're shit at taking care of yourself."
Izuku felt his face flush as Katsuki went on. "Their head trauma quirk guy has the night off, and you weren't serious enough to transfer, so they just decided to keep you for observation."
"I'm sorry if I worried you," Izuku said and it was Katsuki's turn to glare.
"Don't flatter yourself, Deku," he snapped. "Nobody's worried about your ass."
Years ago Izuku would have believed that to be true, but he knew better then. Knew that no matter how far he'd come, Katsuki's defences rose when unexpected vulnerability was forced on him.
Katsuki very much worried about him on the daily. Izuku had lost track of how many homemade meals had appeared on his desk. The endless texts telling him to drink more water. A disgruntled looking Katsuki banging on his office door, telling him to go home instead of working into the night on paperwork.
Katsuki cared. Deeply. It was only that the language in which he spoke his emotions and feelings was often primitive at best. But Izuku understood, having had most of his life to learn and listen.
The pounding in his head had started to abate, but in its place there was a disorienting feeling of pain medication that left him feeling slightly out of control. Izuku decided to focus on Katsuki.
Taking in the familiar spikiness of his hair, before eyes trailed down broad shoulders covered by an understated navy sweater, followed by powerful thighs in black denim.
He looked…nice. Softer than Izuku was used to. "You look nice tonight," he voiced and Katsuki rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Indifferent as he might look, Izuku gleefully noted the new rosy colour of his cheeks.
"The fuck are you talking about? I always look nice."
It was then that Izuku noticed that along with Katsuki's appearance, there were flowers sitting on the chair next to Katsuki. A bundle of pink peonies. Izuku's favourite, a fact he could vaguely remember mentioning offhand to Katsuki back in the spring when they'd passed a bush of them on patrol.
"Are-" he broke off and swallowed thickly, mind fuzzy as he tried to wrap his head around the implications of such a thing. "-are those for me?"
Katsuki glanced at the chair next to him. He quickly looked back up to Izuku and then away just as fast, gaze fixed down towards his shoes that were scuffing against the floor. "Obviously," he drawled, but Izuku knew him well enough to sense there was a hint of discomfort in having to admit he'd done something so overtly romantic and sentimental. "Wanted to surprise you."
In his relief of seeing Katsuki and as the pain medication started to take hold, he'd almost forgotten they were supposed to go on a date that evening.
They were supposed to go on a date that evening. Midoriya Izuku was supposed to go on a date with Bakugo Katsuki.
Tears welled up, which was not at all that surprising. He could cry with the best of them even when not in the hospital suffering from head injuries.
"Kacchan," he whimpered, causing Katsuki to look back at him in alarm. The expression quickly faded into something exasperated. "We missed our date."
"Don't get your panties in a wad," Katsuki said. "We can go out another time."
Which was true. They could. But this was supposed to be special. This was a Christmas date. A date of which Izuku had never had, and just when he finally got it with the one person he'd always, always wanted, he'd gotten a fucking head injury from a villain who just had to get in the last word.
"But this was Christmas, Kacchan."
"So? We can go out tomorrow."
"But we have overnights the rest of the week."
"Then we'll go out on New Years," Katsuki said through a yawn.
"But we're having dinner with our parents and we go to the shrine at midnight."
"We'll do something after, then. Shit, Deku, it's not that complicated."
"There's not really anything to do after midnight!" Izuku protested, though he wasn't sure why it was such a big deal. He loved spending any and all time with Katsuki, but there was just something about Katsuki wanting to spend the biggest and most important date night of the year with him that had filled him up to the brim, and now that it was gone, he felt strangely empty.
"There's plenty to do after midnight," Katsuki says with a raised eyebrow and a suggestion in his tone Izuku had never heard that left him blushing to the roots of his hair like a sunburned piece of broccoli.
"Kacchan!" He screeched far too loudly, the drugs in his system not allowing him to realise how, but Katsuki just laughed in response, amusement and mischief clear on his face as he smiled in that unguarded way of his that Izuku rarely saw directed towards anyone but him.
It made him cry again.
"We'll go out for Christmas next year," Katsuki said, leaning forward to brush messy curls away from Izuku's forehead, his thumb running across the skin he exposed in a move so soft, Izuku's eyes fluttered shut. For someone so rough on the outside, Katsuki could be impossibly gentle.
"N-next year? You…already want to plan for next year?"
One side of Katsuki's mouth lifted in an almost smile. "I haven't managed to get rid of your ass, yet. Doubt one year will make much of a difference."
Silence settled between them for a few, long breaths, the heaviness of everything that was happening sitting on Izuku's chest. How could he even begin to process what Katsuki had just said?
He wished he could gripe at the nurse for slipping medicine into him. He needed all his synapses firing for this, and instead he just felt his eyelids start to droop and exhaustion setting in deep in his bones. But she was probably overworked just as badly as Izuku was, doing her best to make it through a shift fairly unscathed by making sure he was kept as comfortable as possible.
But damn if he didn't sort of wish he was still knocked out, right then. Or even better, not in the fucking hospital at all.
Katsuki yawned again and looked at his watch. "Move over, nerd," he said gruffly, standing and moving towards the bed, leaving Izuku to scramble to the far side as he climbed in, still reeling from the fact that Katsuki thought they'd still be together next year. "It's past my bedtime."
He assumed Katsuki was just going to lay beside him, but he soon found himself being gently gathered up in strong arms after careful manoeuvring to avoid the IV in his right arm.
Izuku stiffened, his heartbeat speeding again, his mind unable to keep up with his body's reaction
"Relax, dumbass," Katsuki said, his nose rubbing into Izuku's hair. "It's not like I've never held you before."
And while that was true, it was usually under vastly different circumstances.
There had been at least a handful of times in fairly recent memory where Izuku had lost someone on a mission or during an attack. He'd seen countless deaths during his time at UA, but it hit differently afterwards. That even after so much evil had been defeated, there were still people they couldn't save, and it destroyed him every time.
Somehow, Katsuki always knew. Would show up at his door with bowls of katsudon and sake saké so strong Izuku could barely take one shot of it. Then he'd pull Izuku to the couch and crush him to his chest while he cried until they both fell asleep.
Katsuki always got up early the next morning to make him breakfast where they'd steadfastly not talk about what had happened between them or the deep feelings of love and gratitude Izuku felt towards him. But it was cathartic all the same. A safe haven in a raging storm.
He was a little proud of how quickly he managed to control his heartbeat once they got situated, slightly annoyed that Katsuki had such a visceral representation of exactly what he did to Izuku's pulse in the loud beeping of the monitor.
The comforting smell of smoke and sugar filled his senses; a smell so uniquely Katsuki, couldn't help but smile into his chest. He breathed in deep, letting their proximity calm him in a way only Katsuki ever could. Even through the haze of painkillers, there was a distinct clarity. A feeling of home.
"Hey, Kacchan?" he asked once he'd felt Katsuki sink into his touch.
Izuku could feel the hum that was Katsuki's answer against him.
"What finally convinced you to ask me out?"
Katsuki took in a breath. "You would ask me that."
"You don't have to tell me," Izuku said, closing his eyes to the touch of Katsuki's hands against the gown-exposed skin of his back.
He didn't think he would, as the silence stretched on more than was normal in a conversation. But then Katsuki buried his head in the crook of Izuku's shoulder and spoke.
"I overheard a couple of those extras at the agency talking about how one of them was going to ask you out for Christmas. I'd just gotten back from a call and I was half undressed and I just marched out of there and straight to your office. I had to get to you first."
Izuku's brows furrowed, but he stopped short of pulling away. "So it was some kind of…competition for you to get to me first?"
Katsuki tensed and drew back, red eyes wide with something that felt scared. "Fuck. No. No, Izuku. I've been wanting to date you for fucking ages now, I just…I never found the right time, but then I realised if I kept waiting, I might lose my chance for good."
"You'd never lose your chance, Kacchan. You're the only one who's had a chance since I knew what dating was."
The breath Katsuki took in was a sputtering mess, moving his head back down to where his nose pressed against Izuku's shoulder. "I fucking hate you, you giant sap."
Izuku laughed lightly, but he stopped when Katsuki squeezed him more tightly to his chest, his mood sober.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said, and even in his drug-addled state Izuku felt taken aback by the apology. He wondered briefly if Katsuki was being this open because there was a good chance Izuku wouldn't remember it later, but he quickly pushed the intrusive thought down.
Katsuki had changed and grown. There was proof enough of that in the fact that Izuku was currently lying in his arms.
"I've always been a coward of the worst kind when it comes to you."
"Kacchan's the bravest person I know." Which was absolutely true, and Katsuki began to stroke the back of Izuku's neck in response. "Feels good," he murmured and clung a little tighter.
Katsuki sighed and Izuku could tell it was full of that regret from their past that Katsuki hadn't quite figured out how to let go of, yet. "We could've had this years ago."
"Maybe we weren't ready."
"You mean I wasn't goddamn ready."
"That's not what I said. And besides, you're here now. That's all that matters."
"If I hadn't been such a fucking moron-"
"Hey," Izuku said, his tongue feeling heavy. "We've already worked through this. There's no point in you feeling badly, now. And besides, you owe me a date. We can't go out if you're going to beat yourself like this. And I really, really want that date, Kacchan."
"Oh, yeah?" Katsuki breathed, pulling Izuku closer. "How much?"
"Almost as much as I wanted a quirk growing up," he said, brushing their noses together.
Katsuki laughed, and shook his head. "That's the worst lie you've ever told, Deku. Oughta blast you into next week for that shit," he said, his tone lighter than it had been all evening.
Izuku smiled, but didn't argue, though there was more truth to what he'd said than Katsuki knew. His priorities had changed and evolved over the years, and while he loved his quirk and his job and helping people, the older he got, the more he wanted someone to share it with.
That someone very specifically being Bakugo Katsuki.
They were quiet again, until an urge welled up inside Izuku so strongly that he gave it voice even while his last working braincell screamed at him to stop. "Wanna kiss you so bad," Izuku mumbled sleepily with his lips against Katsuki's neck, filter completely gone.
Katsuki chuckled quietly, the depth of it shaking Izuku. He felt him lay a kiss into his hair. "Not a fucking chance."
The pout that adorned his mouth would have been incredibly embarrassing had he had any control of his faculties. "Why not?"
Katsuki shifted, wedging one of his legs in between Izuku's. "Because you'll regret it in the morning when you don't remember, and I'm not going to spend my Christmas listening to you bitch and whine about it."
"You don't celebrate Christmas."
"The fact remains, Deku."
"I could never regret Kacchan," he replied with a dreamy smile replacing his frown.
"Fuck, you're embarrassing."
"But you love me anyway," Izuku said without thought, words slipping past his tired mind and flimsy mouth like a prisoner held captive for far too long.
It was true he would never regret Katsuki, he might regret saying that in the morning, if he could manage to remember he'd said it, and as Katsuki stilled beside him, Izuku worried his concussion would mess up more than just their planned date that night.
But then, a soft kiss was placed at a cluster of freckles on his cheek, and a reply so quiet he almost believed he'd imagined it, sent him off into a dreamless sleep.
"Maybe I do."
oOo
A week later, Izuku remembered almost everything from that night and they took the train home. He slept on Katsuki's shoulder as cities flew by outside the window, exhausted from days full of overnight shifts they'd had to take in order to be off for the new year.
They had dinner with their parents, where their mothers exchanged knowing glances and asked thinly veiled questions. Izuku blushed and stuttered while Katsuki glared.
Katsuki surprised Izuku with matching lined haori for them to wear that were designed by his parents. The outside fabric was black, but the inside was lined with rich panels of green and embroidered orange koi dancing about.
Izuku cried and Katsuk was about as patient as he could have hoped for, only rolling his eyes and sighing a handful of times while Izuku's tears stained his shirt.
They made their way to their local shrine at ten minutes to midnight, and as the final bells rang from the nearby temple, Katsuki kissed him shamelessly against an ancient looking tree. Mikos giggled at them as they passed, before a disgruntled kannushi yelled at them for defiling sacred ground.
Izuku smiled widely as they waited in line to pray, hands clasped tightly while he forced Katsuki to join him in talking about his goals for the new year.
They bought omikuji, but Izuku didn't even bother to look at his, completely unconcerned about his upcoming luck as Kacchan grinned wolfishly, leaning down to whisper in his ear about the room he'd booked for them at a posh hotel downtown.
He was giddy. It was perfect.
And sure, he still hadn't had that Christmas date, and he wondered what they would have done. If it would have been simple or outlandishly romantic. Dinner at the Ritz overlooking Tokyo Tower or a simple stroll through lights while they ate the crepes Izuku loved so much in Roppongi. Katsuki resolutely refused to tell him, claiming he was saving it for later because it would have been "the best damn date you've been on in your life," and he was going to save it for another time.
While it was fun to wonder, it paled in comparison to the real thing. Paled in comparison to walking hand in hand towards the street to hail a taxi. To kissing in an elevator as it shot them up thirty fumbling with keys and clothes, to gasps against his ear and the delicious sound of his name being wrung from Katsuki's lips.
Besides, what was one date when the promise of forever was there in your grasp?