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Katsuki never thought he’d be the kind of guy to spend any amount of time in a bar. His parents hardly drank, and he never enjoyed it much when he tried it in high school or his early college days. He didn’t like the taste, and he hated not being in control of his own mind and body. Besides, that shit was terrible for your health, and he was trying to keep to a strict student-athlete regiment. He couldn’t keep his 4.0, set multiple records on the swim team, and go hang out with a bunch of inebriated slackers every weekend night. Why would he even want to?
Stupid fucking Midoriya Izuku, that’s why.
Goddamn Izuku, who had decided to become a goddamn bartender the minute he was old enough. Apparently, Auntie Inko had done it in college and absolutely loved it. Said she made a lot of money in tips, too. Katsuki’s mother had joked that was probably because of the beautiful face. Lots of horny men tripping over themselves to impress the hot bartender.
Well, unfortunately for Katsuki, attractiveness was passed down from mother to son. And with the same beautiful face came the same flirtatious strangers. Every single time he visited, Katsuki noticed at least four giggly, half-drunk girls or guys flirt with, tease, or swoon over the green haired loser behind the counter.
And Katsuki almost couldn’t blame them. Izuku, the asshole, didn’t know how to be fake like a customer service worker should be, so he used his genuine lopsided grin when talking to any guest. His scarred and thick hands expertly maneuvered every cup and tumbler. He chatted with relative ease, but even his nervous habits and laughed came off endearing and heartthrob-y. He had a habit of wearing shirts that showed off or otherwise highlighted his biceps. And these customers didn’t even know what he looked like under the shirts. Katsuki was the only one cursed with that knowledge.
Plus, he had those stupid fucking freckles all over his stupid adorable face.
Where was he going with this?
Right. He has a crush on Izuku. He has for years. How fucked was that? And now, instead of studying, exercising, or sleeping like he should be, he’s hovering at the bar counter waiting for Izuku to talk to him and glaring at anyone else who takes his attention.
“Still here, Kacchan?” Izuku comes back from the far end of the bar with a lazy, affectionate smile, wiping the inside of a glass like some cool television love interest. Katsuki feels the urge to slam his head against the table. Instead, he just mutters something unintelligible in response, then lifts his glass to sip some of the water leftover from the ice that melted in the drink he ordered almost an hour ago. Izuku gives him a look. “You know, I can get you something else. A normal glass of water, even. Free of charge.”
“Fuck off,” Katsuki says, smoothly.
Izuku just laughs. “I’m so glad you love spending time with me.”
“Spending time with you?” Katsuki repeats incredulously. “You’ve been somewhere else the entire fucking night.”
“Well, this is my job, Kacchan,” Izuku retorts, seeming only slightly confused by Katsuki’s embarrassing sentiment. “I have to work sometimes.”
“You’ve been having long-ass conversations with like every person that comes up here,” Katsuki grumbles, unable to stop himself.
“Customers need entertaining.”
“I’m a customer,” Katsuki protests, lifting up his empty glass.
“Not a paying one,” Izuku says.
Katsuki slams his hand down. “You won’t let me pay!”
Izuku, the bastard, laughs again, and Katsuki feels his ears burn red. Why the fuck would he let himself say all that? Why was he so goddamn pathetic? “I didn’t know you cared so much, Kacchan,” Izuku says, propping his elbows on the counter and leaning in. Eye contact is made. “I can give you attention if you want it so bad.”
Katsuki feels like he might choke. And, horrifically, the first word that comes to mind is, “Fuck.”
Just in time, he adds, “You.”
Izuku sighs dramatically, pushes himself off the counter, and starts fixing another drink. Katsuki wishes he could smash his glass on his own skull. He needs to pull it together. “You’re a strange man, Kacchan,” Izuku said, finishing the drink off with a sprig of mint and sliding it in front of Katsuki. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that my shift is over in…” he squinted at a clock above the bar “…ten minutes? And there’s an all-night arcade just a few blocks away.”
Katsuki stared down at his own reflection in the definitely booze-filled drink Izuku had just offered him, thought for half a second about what a not-date arcade night with Izuku would be like sober, and swallowed half the glass in one go. “Sure, why the hell not.”
“Great!” Izuku said cheerily. “I just have to entertain a few more paying customers – my deepest apologies – and then I’ll clock out. Get ready to lose every game we play, Kacchan.”
“Yeah fucking right, like you could ever beat me.”
The noise that blares from the machine when Katsuki manages a K.O. on Izuku’s character is satisfyingly sweet, but not enough to stop him from wincing before he lets out a victory whoop. He let Izuku give him another drink – or maybe two? – before they finally left the bar, and as he’s said, he’s not a big drinker. One or two made him tipsy enough that loud noise hurt.
“Oh, come on!!” Izuku exclaims, slamming his hands into the machine in defeat. His cheeks are flushed, and he reaches into his pocket, no doubt wriggling around for another quarter. “Rematch, Kacchan. I will not stand for this.”
“That desperate to lose again, Deku?” Katsuki quipped, “You must be some kind of masochist.”
Izuku’s cheeks flush a little redder, Katsuki notices, as he glances over and shoves another quarter into the machine. “I’d prefer to be the sadist, if you’d just cooperate!”
Katsuki almost chokes on his own spit. What the hell?! “That would ruin the fun,” he manages, turning quickly back towards the game and slamming the start button, launching them into digital battle before the godforsaken conversation could continue.
He makes it through the rest of the night without losing his mind or his winning streak. By the time they call it quits and cash in their tickets for some shitty arcade rewards (two tiny All Might plushies, a pack of gumballs, and rubber chicken), he’s won 14 of the 24 games they played. Izuku only gave up the fight because it was 2am, and Katsuki reminded him of the quantum mechanics exam they should be studying for.
“Kacchaaaan,” Izuku wines as they stroll through the cool night air towards the bus stop, whacking him with the rubber chicken. Katsuki finds himself relating to the pathetic wheeze that comes from the cheap toy.
“What,” he responds flatly, elbowing Izuku in return.
“I don’t know,” Izuku says, hitting him again. Katsuki snatches the chicken away and whacks him in his fuzzy green head. Izuku laughs, batting at him in vain. “Dude!”
“You started it, idiot!”
Izuku sighs, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s bicep, then resting his cheek on Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki tries not to short circuit. Izuku does this all the time. It’s evil, honestly. “I’m tired.”
“’Course you are.”
“You think I’m gonna fail quantum?”
“Nah.” It’s hard work to keep walking straight, what with Izuku leaning his full body weight into his side, but he manages. He glances up to see how close they are to the bus stop. Then he startles, because the bus stop is a block ahead, and the bus is already there. “Izuku, run!”
“What?” Izuku squawks as Katsuki takes off, stumbling forward along with him. “Oh, shit!”
The bus pulls away from the curb, and despite all their shouting, it does not wait. They arrive at the stop huffing and puffing, and drop onto the bench in disappointment. “Fuck you!” Katsuki yells after the uncaring vehicle. Who fucking knows when the next one would actually show up.
“Don’t be rude, Kacchan,” Izuku says, once again collapsing against Katsuki’s shoulder with a groan. “I am so tired.”
“Baby,” Katsuki says, whacking him straight in the face with the rubber chicken. Izuku sputters out a laugh.
“You are such an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Hm…,” Izuku muses. “Is there anything?”
“Nope, I know everything.”
“I’d believe it. What about me?”
Katsuki frowns over at his friend, but he figures this is pretty normal late-night weird talk from Izuku. “You don’t know what you know?”
“I don’t know what I don’t know, Kacchan, there’s a difference.” Then Izuku has the gall to fucking nuzzle into Katsuki’s shoulder. Evil little shit.
“Okay, Socrates.”
They fall into silence, allowing Katsuki to focus on how his arm tingles where it makes contact with Izuku. This boy would be the death of him.
He doesn’t quite remember when he developed these horrible, brain-rotting feelings for Izuku. He’s known the little shit for his whole life. Maybe it’s been that whole time. Maybe it started sometime in middle school. Maybe it was brought on by the mania of early-high school puberty. Whenever it was, it felt like a terminal disease. No hope for treatment, no hope for relief. His friendship with Izuku was too valuable to lose over a few butterflies. Didn’t make it easier to sit here and look at him, but it wasn’t something he could really change.
He was confident Izuku didn’t feel the same way. He was into this girl in his biology class that he wouldn’t shut up about, a brunette pre-med with rosy cheeks and a sunny smile. Katsuki didn’t need to hear “I have a crush on her” to tell. And Katsuki was not a brunette pre-med with rosy cheeks and a sunny smile. He was a cranky chemical engineering student with RBF and an antisocial streak.
Whatever.
“Kacchan?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for hanging out with me.”
Katsuki huffed a laugh. “Alright, Izuku.”
“I mean it,” Izuku presses on, though Katsuki wishes he wouldn’t. “I thought bartending would be fun, and it is, but sometimes it’s overwhelming to talk to so many people. I feel like such a loser. It’s always easier when you’re there. And it’s fun to hang out afterwards. Feels like we’re kids again.”
Katsuki doesn’t know what to say to that. He agrees that spending time with Izuku like this does make him feel like a lovesick high schooler all over again. He’s not sure how much he likes that. Or maybe he is sure that he likes it so much that it scares him.
“Kacchan?”
“What?” Katsuki half-snaps, worried that Izuku is expecting some kind of sappy response.
“If I dropped out of school to be a rock star, would you be a groupie?”
That makes Katsuki snort. “A rock star? Izuku, you can barely strum a guitar.” This idiot. He liked him so much. Fuck.
“Hey!” Izuku whines. “Answer the question.”
“I hope I’m more important to you than a fucking groupie, Izuku,” Katsuki says honestly. “At least let me be your drummer.”
“That would be so cool. I like this life. Let’s drop out and start a band.”
“You’re not gonna fail quantum, Deku.”
“You can name the band?”
The bus didn’t come until a whole forty minutes later, allowing Katsuki plenty of time to stew on his stupid crush as Izuku kept up a constant stream of stupid, charming, adorable nonsense. That stream continued on the bus and all the way back to their apartment building. Katsuki and Izuku weren’t roommates – Katsuki was still proud of how he managed to ensure that didn’t happen without hurting Izuku’s feelings, as it would’ve kill him to be that close to domestic bliss without actually having it – but they did live in the same hallway. Katsuki roomed with Eijirou, and Izuku with Todoroki. Easier that way.
“Kacchan?” Izuku said for the millionth time as they got off the bus. Their building was a few blocks from the stop.
“Yes?” Katsuki humored.
“Why don’t we ever talk about crushes?”
“What?!” Katsuki choked out, far too loud and abrupt. He quickly composed himself and thanked god he didn’t trip and fall on his face out of alarm. His heart rate was suddenly much too fast. Pull yourself together, you pathetic excuse for a man.
“Oooooh, so you do have one!” Izuku exclaimed. “Tell me tell me tell me tell me-”
“No!” Katsuki practically shouted, looking anywhere but Izuku’s face. This was an actual nightmare.
“’No’ you don’t have one or ‘no’ you won’t tell me?”
“Just no,” Katsuki snapped.
“Kachaaaaan,” Izuku whined, as he was so liable to do. Katsuki’s ears burned shamefully. Make it stop. This was so awful. “We’re best friends, we can entrust each other with this kind of information.”
“Okay,” Katsuki started, scrambling for a defense, “then you tell me.” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He did not want to know who Izuku was into. He really, really did not.
“Come on, I asked first.”
Katsuki just shrugged, keeping his eyes pointedly forward.
“I don’t have a crush on anyone,” Izuku tried. He was a terrible liar. Katsuki told him so. “I don’t!”
“I don’t either,” Katsuki shot back. Please let that be enough. Please. Izuku was silent for a moment, one blissful moment, and then…
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
Katsuki glared at him, and Izuku laughed a little. “Sorry, sorry.” He paused. “Obviously it’s a guy.”
Katsuki punched him in the shoulder for that and the fucker had the gall to laugh even harder. He had told Izuku back in high school that he had never had feelings for a girl, and that was the closest he’d ever come to defining his sexuality. Izuku was perfectly aware of that.
“Sorry, Kacchan, really,” Izuku said as the arrived at the door to their building and headed inside. “I was just curious. We never talk about that kind of stuff.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” Katsuki grumbled, trudging up the stairs behind Izuku. Izuku stopped climbing and turned around with a frown.
“Wait, are you actually mad? I really am sorry, I just… I don’t know, I was being stupid.”
“Izuku, it’s fine,” Katsuki said, doing his best to shake off the angry clouds that had closed in on him. It truly wasn’t Izuku’s fault for being curious. If Katsuki could just be normal for once, it would’ve been a perfectly find question to ask a good friend. He poked Izuku in the chest to make him keep going up. He did, however hesitantly.
When they reached their hallway and stopped in front of Izuku’s door, Izuku turned to him with another frown. “I said it’s fine,” Katsuki repeated, trying for a small smile. “Go to bed, nerd.”
“Okay,” Izuku said slowly. He turned to his door, unlocked it, paused, then turned back and just stared at Katsuki in silence. His cheeks were pink.
“What?” Katsuki asked, suddenly nervous. He hated being nervous around Izuku. It made him feel stupid.
“I just…” Izuku started, then groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Okay, Kacchan, I asked that because… well, I think- hm.”
Katsuki felt his stomach drop out of his ass. Fuck. Had Izuku guessed how he felt? Was this a rejection? Should he just curl up on the ground and die?
“It’s fine, Izuku,” he found himself blurting before Izuku could say anything else. Izuku blinked at him in flustered surprise. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I’d rather you… not say it.”
At that, Izuku looked crushed. His bewildered, wide-eyed blushing turned into pure heartbreak. Katsuki was immediately overwhelmed with guilt – and confusion. Why would Izuku be sad right now? Katsuki was the one getting rejected!
“Oh,” Izuku said, so quiet and sad that Katsuki felt very much like he had just shot a small animal. What the fuck?
As he stood there, frozen between confusion and heartbreak of his own, Izuku turned around and entered his apartment with a soft “Goodnight, Kacchan.”
“Wait-” Katsuki said as the door closed, reaching out to knock rapidly. “Izuku, wait!” He knocked again. “Izuku, hold on, come back-”
The door opened, just wide enough for Izuku to glare out at him. The sudden change shut Katsuki right up. What the hell?
“What do you want, Kacchan?”
“I think-” Katsuki sputtered, his mind reeling. Midoriya fucking Izuku. It didn’t help that he looked really hot when he glared. “I think I’ve messed something up here.”
“You’re fine,” Izuku said flatly, looking at the ground.
“No, I think I- I think I misinterpreted something, because this is not- what you’re doing right now doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense?” Izuku echoed incredulously. “Kacchan, I was trying to say that-” he cut himself off with a huff, wiping at the pinpricks of tears that had suddenly appeared in his eyes. Katsuki flexed his hands uselessly. “Whatever, you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t want to hear it because I thought you were going to say something I didn’t want to hear!”
“Like what?”
“Like-” Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to tell the whole truth. “I don’t know!”
Izuku was crying fully now. “Well fuck you, Kacchan, I was trying to say that I think I’m in love with you.” And then he slammed the door.
Katsuki stood there, struck dumb and shocked beyond comprehensible thought. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you. I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU. Holy fucking shit.
He knocked on that apartment door so hard for so long that anyone in the hallway might have thought he was trying to break in. And when Izuku finally ripped it back open to scream at him to shut up, he virtually fell through it.
He reached for Izuku like he was a lifeline in a stormy ocean, pulled him in, and kissed him like it was the only thing he had ever wanted to do.
It practically was.
Izuku let out a surprised gasp, pulling away for a moment. Katsuki kissed his neck instead, his jaw, his temple, wrapping his arms around Izuku’s waist and pressing his palm into the small of his back. Izuku dropped his head back with another small moan and grabbed Katsuki by the side of the neck, pulling him closer. He felt insane. He was insane. It was impossible to speak. He couldn’t possibly put his current feelings into words.
And then Izuku was kissing him, pushing him back into the open door until it closed, digging his hands into Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki felt weak in the knees. Izuku’s hands were gripping his thighs, lifting him off his feet. He was too caught up in the moment to be prideful, so he just wrapped his legs around Izuku’s waist and held on for dear life. To be honest, he had imagined being lifted onto the bar counter far more times than he would like to admit. Fuck. It didn’t take much longer for Izuku to move things from the door to his room.
It was a miracle Todoroki never woke up.
Katsuki’s alarm the next morning was a rubber chicken to the face. He jolted awake, then collapsed back into the pillows. “What the fuck.”
“Wake up,” Izuku demanded. “I need to know I’m not crazy.”
Katsuki opened his eyes enough to see Izuku lying on the pillow next to him, pouting quite handsomely. “What do you mean?”
“Well… either you think you love me too,” Izuku said, breaking eye contact as his cheeks flushed, “or I’m completely crazy.”
Katsuki couldn’t stop a smile as he reached out to pat Izuku on the cheek. “You’re not crazy.”
Izuku broke into a grin. “Oh. Good.”
“Yeah. Good.”
“You’re so dramatic, you know that?”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Is that why you’re always loitering at the bar?”
Katsuki scowled to hide his blush. “Shut up.”
Izuku laughed. Katsuki kissed him.
“You want to know something really funny?” he asked. Izuku nodded sleepily. “I thought you had a crush on that pre-med in your class.”
“Ochako?” Izuku asked, raising a brow. Katsuki’s turn to nod. Izuku looked dumbfounded. “Kacchan. She’s a lesbian.”
Katsuki blinked dumbly. “Oh.”
“I have literally told you that.”
“Must have missed that bit.”
Izuku laughed again. “Idiot.”