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Katsuki knows he’s nosy.
But it’s not his fault that he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It’s not like he wants to listen to all the shit and trauma his classmates have gone through—he has his own bullshit to deal with—and yet he still finds himself in situations where he’s forced to listen.
He won’t think about how he could technically walk away, or just tune them out. He blames the universe for giving him such good hearing that it’s an impossible task.
Some of the shit he ends up hearing makes him want to rip out his own hair and eat rotten fish for the rest of his life, and he would rather skin himself alive than remember what he overheard a couple hours ago.
Everything starts with Izuku.
Katsuki is minding his own business, standing in the kitchen and chopping up some vegetables they can use for dinner. He works quietly, the voices of his classmates filtering through the space of the kitchen and common room. He doesn’t really hear what they are saying, but his brain finally decides to pay attention as soon as the word kissing is involved.
“First kisses are the worst,” Mina says with a whine. Her voice sounds slightly muffled, like she’s talking into a pillow.
“You think so?” Sero wonders, then his voice turns smug. “Mine wasn’t too bad.”
Someone groans. It sounds like Kaminari. “Stop bragging about having a nice first kiss.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Sero says, still overly smug. “It's not my fault you guys had a bad experience.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and starts peeling the carrots. He’s quick about it because he knows not to waste time, and begins chopping them up with the same accuracy and efficiency as always.
“Deku didn’t have a bad experience,” Uraraka says indifferently, like she’s talking about something as normal as the weather.
Katsuki snorts to himself, followed by another eye roll. Uraraka prides herself in knowing her friends very well, but this just proves that she apparently knows nothing at all.
Katsuki knows things. He knows everything there is to know about Izuku, and they both know that Izuku has never kissed anyone before. While the nerd might have been interested in people in the past, he doesn’t dare to make a move even though he wants to.
They both know that. That’s how things are.
But the comment causes an uproar.
“Wait, seriously?!” Kaminari yells.
“You have to tell us about it,” Sero says.
Mina squeals. “Details. Now!”
Izuku is laughing quietly. “Um.”
His voice is difficult to make out among the others, but Katsuki thinks he can recognise his voice anywhere. They have grown up together, so it’s only natural that Katsuki knows him the best.
The massive pile of chopped up carrots only grows in size as Katsuki waits for Izuku to break the news. He secures himself a bowl and starts transferring the carrots as quietly as he can, while the others still try to make Izuku say something about his first kiss that hasn’t even happened yet. Katsuki smirks as he pictures the uproar after everyone finds out that Izuku and Uraraka were just joking.
He finishes transferring all the carrots and starts working on the red bell pepper. He handles the knife a little slower now, not wanting to create unnecessary noise.
“It was nice,” Izuku eventually says, awfully shy. “My first kiss, that is.”
Katsuki hates the way his body betrays him. His muscles tense up and his eyes turn wide, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. But he ignores it because he knows it’s not true. He’s sure of it. He also knows Izuku likes to have fun, but jokes have never been on his radar. He likes to avoid them because they often lead to misunderstandings, and people tend to get hurt.
But he’s joking around right now.
What the fuck?
Mina sounds beyond excited, clapping her hands together. “Tell us more! You can’t just say that and then stop!”
“Yeah,” Sero agrees enthusiastically. “I’ll tell you about mine afterwards.”
“Um,” Izuku begins, still hesitant and shy. “I don’t know what to say. It just sort of happened.”
“How? How did it happen?” Mina presses on louder.
Izuku stays quiet for a while. “We were talking about some things, and then we just kissed. I don’t think it was meant to happen, but I don’t really regret it.”
“God, you really know how to be vague,” Kaminari whines.
Mina makes an affirmative noise. “Yeah, can you at least tell us who it is?”
“Do we know them?” Sero asks eagerly, though he appears much calmer than the others.
Izuku is quiet again, which means he’s thinking about what to say, but what the fuck is there to think about?
Katsuki clenches his jaw, chopping up the bell pepper faster, and doesn’t understand why Izuku keeps playing along. None of this is funny anymore, and surely he realises that. Why the hell isn’t he telling everyone that he’s joking?
“You all met him.” Izuku sounds flustered. What the fuck? “Rody was my first kiss.”
Katsuki cuts his own finger.
And it fucking hurts.
He doesn’t even hear the sound of his own roar due to the ringing in his ears, but the kitchen is swarming with people a moment later and Katsuki feels like suffocating. Blood is dripping from his finger, painting everything in red, and the bell pepper is definitely inedible now. Goddammit.
Izuku reaches him first. “Kacchan,” he calls out in panic. “What happened?”
It stings. It really fucking stings
“Nothing. Just a small accident,” he says through gritted teeth.
Izuku is the only one who has gotten close, but the others are still fuzzing and yapping behind them. Katsuki desperately wants to shut them out of his brain, so he can deal with this mess. His finger may be bleeding an excessive amount, but compared to having his heart explode, this is nothing.
“There’s blood everywhere,” Izuku panics, voice high and frantic. “This is not a small accident.”
Katsuki can’t look at him, but Izuku still leans closer to inspect his blood-soaked finger, brows furrowed in distress as he mutters under his breath. He guides Katsuki over to the sink by his waist and turns on the water. Izuku doesn’t seem to realise his hand is resting on Katsuki’s lower back now, too fixated on the water having the correct temperature before doing anything else.
Katsuki notices, though.
He stiffens without meaning to, warmth sinking into his skin where Izuku’s hand is touching him. Katsuki can’t breathe as his body goes hot, steaming basically rising from the surface of his skin. But then Izuku carefully guides his hand under the lukewarm water, and the feeling fades a little.
He can focus on this instead. He can focus on the blood washing away under the water, but it keeps bleeding and it keeps hurting. He will probably end up with another scar.
The others have quieted down behind them. Some of them most likely left the kitchen after realising how unserious this actually is, or maybe Katski’s fucked up brain has decided to give him a moment of peace before the inevitable chaos.
Izuku wasn’t joking.
Izuku actually kissed someone.
Izuku kissed—
No.
He can’t think about it.
The cut fucking stings.
“We’re going to find a first-aid kit,” Izuku tells the others with a quick look.
Someone must have handed him a stack of paper towels because he stops touching Katsuki’s lower back and his hand is full of them. He shuts off the water and dabs the finger dry with undeniable skill before applying firm pressure.
Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek, but stays stubbornly silent as he lets Izuku do what he pleases. The nerd will hover and worry like a mother hen if he doesn’t get to do this himself, and Katsuki can’t handle bickering like that right now.
Izuku peeks at the people who have yet to leave. “Can you guys take over here? Make sure to clean up and finish the food?”
“They’ll fucking ruin it,” Katsuki grumbles unthinkingly.
“They won’t.” Izuku tries to meet his eyes. “Come on.”
Katsuki pulls his hand away and proceeds to apply pressure onto his finger himself. Izuku guides him out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom, his warm hand once again settling nicely against his lower back. Katsuki would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. There’s just something oddly right about Izuku having his hand there, but his heart still twists and his throat constricts.
Maybe he should be putting up a fight, maybe he should act how everyone is expecting him to. Katsuki might have gotten better at controlling his temper, but he still struggles to accept help like this. But he doesn’t protest, suddenly overcome with this mind-numbing exhaustion, like the energy has been sucked right out of him.
Izuku flicks on the light in the bathroom and makes Katsuki sit on the counter like a child. Katsuki looks towards the ceiling with a deep sigh as Izuku searches for the first-aid kit. He’s kneeling on the floor, rummaging through the cupboards, finding what he’s looking for. He stands up and steps in-between Katsuki’s legs, even spreading them wider like Katsuki won’t fucking pass out from it.
“Give me your hand, Kacchan,” he says quietly, his voice echoing in the space of the bathroom. The tone of distress is gone, replaced by a firmness that Katsuki hates having directed at him.
He is doing everything he can to avoid looking at Izuku, gaze persistently stuck on the ceiling as he lets Izuku inspect his finger again.
He sighs at all the blood. “You’re always so careful in the kitchen. What happened?”
“An accident.”
Izuku dabs the excess blood away with attentive care. “You don’t need stitches.”
“Great.”
Izuku doesn’t comment on the coldness, but Katsuki knows he has noticed the change in his behaviour. The silence is thick and suffocating between them, though it doesn’t stop Izuku from working.
He disinfects the cut, making Katsuki hiss through his teeth.
“A fucking warning would’ve been—”
“Sorry,” Izuku interrupts, and wraps the finger cautiously. “I’m almost done.”
Katsuki exhales and carefully tilts his head back down to see him work. The strain on his neck got too much. Sue him. But then he gets a whiff of Izuku’s shampoo and immediately regrets moving his head because he smells good.
Izuku smells fucking delicious.
“There,” he whispers, then glances up. “Done.”
Katsuki’s breath leaves him.
Bathroom lighting should not make anyone look good, but Izuku has these stupid eyes that glow even brighter under the light, his freckles looking like stars and constellations on his cheeks.
Katsuki swings his head to the side, heart squeezing. “Thanks.”
Izuku watches him and stays situated between his legs. “Kacchan.”
Katsuki closes his eyes and realises his massive mistake. Izuku is trapping him against the bathroom counter, making sure he can’t move. He leans closer determinedly, his rough hand giving Katsuki’s shoulder a squeeze.
The touch is so warm and gentle, and makes Katsuki remember that someone else had the joy to experience this soft side of Izuku. Someone else had the privilege to know his touch and warmth. Someone had the opportunity to know what his mouth feels like.
“What?” he hisses, forcefully shaking his shoulder. “You said you finished, so move your dumb—”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
Izuku lets go of his shoulder, but grabs hold of his chin instead. He forces Katsuki to look at him, and his eyes are ablaze. “What’s going on with you? You can barely look at me.”
Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek. “Maybe I don’t want to look at you.”
“That’s childish.”
“Fuck you,” Katsuki snaps.
Izuku glares at him, not hiding his frustration. He holds Katsuki’s chin with his thumb and index finger, and makes no move to step away anytime soon.
Neither of them say anything, both waiting to see who’ll break first.
“Wanna tell me what’s bothering you?” Izuku asks lowly, gaze unwavering.
“Almost cut my finger off,” Katsuki hisses. “That’s pretty fucking bothersome.”
“And it happened because you found out I kissed someone?”
“You weren’t exactly quiet about it,” Katsuki growls back at him, like a wild animal ready to fight.
Izuku watches him, then tips his face forward. Their noses brush and the movement has Katsuki’s breath hitch, but he can’t fucking move. He sits petrified on the counter as Izuku decides to torture him.
“Jealous?” he murmurs.
“You sick freak—”
“Hey, how are you guys—oh shit!” Kirishima cuts off as he chokes on his spit. “Oh, fuck, sorry—”
Izuku jumps and pushes himself away from Katsuki so fast that air starts whooshing around in the bathroom.
Kirishima barely regains his balance before he stares at them like they have grown an extra head.
Katsuki gets down from the counter. “Don’t apologise.”
“Bro—” Kirishima starts, scanning his face.
“We’re done here,” he says tightly.
Izuku sounds breathless. “Kacchan—”
“Later, Izuku.”
Fuck the universe.
Katsuki starts avoiding him after that. He tries not to make it obvious, but anyone can see the difference in his behaviour. The excuses tumble out of his mouth like a poisonous lie, and a bitter taste lingers every time.
Izuku always smiles brightly and tells him it’s okay, but they both know how much it actually hurts him. Katsuki feels like a shitty person for always turning him down, but he can’t help it. Every time he looks at Izuku, he sees him with that foreigner, and he feels sick to his stomach.
The thought of the two of them makes him so fucking nauseous that he can barely eat, and to make matters worse, he can barely sleep because he keeps picturing it in his mind. He can’t stop thinking about how it happened, and who initiated the whole thing. Did Izuku really enjoy it? Is Rody such a good kisser that he would do it again if he had the chance?
Why the hell would Izuku choose him when Katsuki has always been right here?
Katsuki slams his fist down onto his desk, pencil splintering in the process. His body shakes with rage so hot that his palms feel warmer than they should. He takes his head in his hands and resists the urge to rip all his fucking hair out, but it sounds really tempting right now.
He hasn’t felt anger like this in a long time. The type of anger that consumes his entire being and makes him want to break things. The type of anger that makes him see red, and makes his body shake with the sheer force of it.
This is the version he hates. He hates himself when he’s like this. Maybe that's why Izuku chose someone else—because Katsuki is still too violent and controlled by his anger, because he’s not good enough for someone as perfect as Izuku.
Fuck the universe. Fuck everyone and everything. Fuck that stupid foreigner that got everything Katsuki has ever wanted.
He sits quietly for a while, letting the oxygen fill his lungs before exhaling softly. His eyes have fallen shut as he focuses on his breathing, slowly counting to ten. The tension doesn’t leave his body, but the boiling rage comes down to a light simmer, and he can slowly recognise himself again.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door shrieks before Katsuki can send away the person disturbing his peace, and his heart rate spikes because there’s only one person in his life that comes in without permission.
“Kacchan?”
The universe really hates him.
If he ignores Izuku standing in his doorway, then maybe he will go away. Maybe he will give up, but that is the stupidest thought to ever enter Katsuki’s brain because that little shit never does.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
“I’m busy.”
Izuku is silent and still behind him.
Katsuki clenches his fists and has the powerful urge to see his face, but he stays firmly rooted to his desk chair and doesn’t turn around. He hates whenever he can’t hear the sound of Izuku’s voice or see his face because Katsuki no idea if Izuku is currently crying with tears and snot all over his beautiful face, or if he is performing a mental revenge ritual because of Katsuki’s dick-like behaviour.
The door closes and the floorboards creak.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Izuku sounds cold, not even remotely close to crying.
Katsuki goes taunt. “I’m not.”
“Quiet lying,” Izuku snaps. “It’s not a good look on you.”
The simmer of anger starts to boil under the surface of Katsuki’s hot skin. He clenches his fists tightly, palms heating up as he bites the inside of his cheek.
He turns around and meets Izuku’s hard stare. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he hisses.
Izuku shows no reaction besides giving him a stone cold stare. He crosses his arms over his chest as his lips pull down into a thin line.
Katsuki’s palms pop. “What?”
Izuku watches the tiny sparks that ignite from his palms. They light up the room in an orange glow and reflect in his eyes, giving the illusion of a gleam that's not actually there. “Is it because of the kiss?”
Katsuki retreats like a wounded animal, like the words are burning and scarring his skin. The question makes him ache, like his heart is fighting to stay in one piece when all it wants to do is shatter. His mask is cracking around the edges, but he still desperately tries to keep himself together.
“You can kiss whoever you want,” he sneers in response.
Izuku steps closer. “You’re not denying it.”
“Fuck you!” Katsuki barks loudly. “I don’t care!”
Hot lightning strikes in Izuku’s eyes, fury so strong that his body shakes with it. He storms closer with thundering footsteps, making everything tremble around them. “Then stop acting like a baby and talk to me again!”
Katsuki immediately gets up, the skin of his palms turning red. “I don’t act like a fucking baby!”
“Yes, you do!”
Their eyes meet in a clash of green lightning and orange sparks.
Izuku quivers with the force of his rage, hand shaking when he points at Katsuki, jabbing his crackling finger directly into his chest. The vibrations make them both tremble, and something crashes onto the floor beside them.
“You act like a child who didn’t get his favourite treat for the first time!” Izuku yells, jabbing even harder into Katsuki’s clothed chest. “It’s so fucking infuriating!”
The green lightning is buzzing around them, creating a static noise. Katsuki slaps his hand away as more sparks ignite from his palms.
“You’re pissing me the fuck off!”
Izuku gets in his face, green hues drowning out the orange. “Tell me how I can fix it!”
“You can’t!”
Izuku is panting and trembling, his anger never-fading. Katsuki almost expects him to start yelling even louder, but his voice drops to a lethal murmur. “You’re making this way more difficult than it has to be, Kacchan.”
Katsuki barks out a strained laugh. “I’m always the fucking problem, huh?”
The green has subsided, but Katsuki can feel the energy around them. His palms are still dangerously warm, but the sparks have gotten smaller.
“You are,” Izuku states, a flicker of green lightning still remaining in his eyes. “If you would just communicate your feelings, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“And you suddenly know everything,” Katsuki snarls, clenching his fists. He leans closer. “You’re so fucking perfect, aren’t you?”
Izuku’s eyes flash brightly again. “Don’t fucking start with me, Kacchan.”
Katsuki leans even closer. “Or what?”
The green hues are getting brighter again, a perfect reflection of Izuku’s emotions. His scarred, ruined hands are clenched, and it almost looks painful.
“What the hell are you getting out of this?” Izuku asks, and his voice gets louder. “What the hell are you getting out of acting like a spoiled brat?!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“No, you shut the fuck up with all your bullshit excuses!” Izuku roars, and he’s back to making everything shake.“Tell me why you’re—”
“Just leave it alone!”
“No, tell me wh—”
“Because you kissed that fucking foreigner!”
Everything stops.
The shaking, the trembling. It stops.
The green flickers of lightning vanish without a trace.
The ignited sparks die out with a faint trail of smoke.
Izuku is still rattling and vibrating with the force of all the power he can emit, bones almost creaking in protest under his skin. His chest is heaving unevenly for air as his eyes grow in size. His lips part, and he stares like he can’t believe what’s going on.
“Kacchan…”
That word leaves so many things unsaid.
Katsuki feels sick to stomach. His throat tightens when he opens his mouth, making him choke on his breath. Complete and utter terror fills him from head to toe with the knowledge that he indirectly confessed. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, and no matter how much he wants to take it back, it’s a lost cause.
He can’t move a muscle, feet stuck to the floor as he takes in the look of absolute bewilderment that has taken over Izuku’s face. The anger is gone, but he doesn’t look happy, and Katsuki has no idea what to do with that.
“The kiss didn’t mean anything,” he whispers weakly. He peeks at the floor. “It just happened.”
Katsuki barely registers that he’s actually being spoken to. His ears are ringing, and his head is starting to hurt. “You sound like you accidentally knocked someone up.”
The words hurt and scratch against his throat because of all the yelling. Katsuki hates yelling, just like he hates the enraged version of himself that still exists inside him, and still comes out when he’s pushed hard enough.
Izuku sighs tiredly, lungs rattling. “We were in a life-threatening situation and had no way of knowing when it would be over. We couldn’t contact anyone without the risk of being found. It was terrifying.”
Katsuki is not a good man. He fuels the fire with his own jealousy, even when he knows Izuku only wants to make him understand.
“So you stick your tongue down his throat,” he says numbly. “Got it.”
“You have no right to act like this,” he hisses angrily. “I’m not yours, Kacchan. I never was.”
Izuku might as have slapped him across the face. The level of pain would likely have been the same, if not more.
Katsuki doesn’t have it in him to continue whatever this is. Not only did he indirectly confess, but he is also reminded of what he doesn’t have by the person he wants more than anything.
“You should go,” he mutters.
“I will.”
Katsuki nods. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Their eyes meet, but there’s nothing left to say.
“Go then. Leave.”
Izuku takes a step back.
Katsuki looks away again. His eyes are stinging.
The door opens and closes with a click.
Just like the universe hates Katsuki, Katsuki also hates the universe.
Izuku actually leaves.
He’s gone the next morning.
Katsuki is searching for the familiar green hair, but it’s nowhere to be seen. His world comes to a standstill around him, and he has never felt worse.
His appetite is gone, but he forces himself to sit down and eat breakfast with the others. The food tastes like ash in his mouth, and he resists the urge to gag at the sight of it, but he can’t bring himself to look up from his plate.
People are staring at him, but they don’t say anything out of the ordinary. They act like everything is fine, like Izuku isn’t missing and making the world appear so much darker than it usually is. They don’t even seem surprised that he isn’t here, like they all knew he would be gone when they woke up.
Katsuki swallows another mouthful of rice, and his stomach churns. He washes it down with water, but that makes the nausea worse. He sits there, almost curling in on himself to somehow make it stop, but it doesn’t. In the end, he excuses himself as normally as he can before making a run for the bathroom. He barely gets in there in time before he vomits.
Cold sweat is clinging to his skin, strained breaths passing through his lips as he tries to get his shit together. This is literally pathetic. He can't be acting like this just because of a fight with Izuku. He refuses to, so he gets himself cleaned up and tries to act like nothing when he leaves the bathroom.
Kirishima is waiting for him outside.
Katsuki doesn’t even have the energy to get defensive.
Kirishima comes closer with a furrowed brow. He reaches for Katsuki’s elbow, carefully tugging him along. They walk towards the elevators, the sounds of the others fading out in the background.
“You’re not going to class today,” Kirishima tells him.
“You’re going to be late,” Katsuki says as they wait for the doors to open.
Kirishima tugs him into the elevator, and the doors close shortly after. “I don’t care about being late when you look like you’re about to fall over.”
He lets go of Katsuki’s elbow, but he remains close by, like he genuinely worries about him passing out any second. Katsuki can feel the puppy eyes on him, but closes his eyes as wait for the elevator ride to be over.
“This is why your grades are bad,” he murmurs. “You focus on the wrong things.”
“Making sure your friends are okay matters a thousand times more than some stupid grade.” His voice is sharp like the edges of his teeth, leaving no room for discussion.
“Right,” Katsuki replies dully. “Sorry.”
The doors open.
Kirishima sighs and takes hold of his elbow. “Come on.”
Kirishima closes the door behind him once they arrive in Katsuki’s room. They sit together on the bed in silence. Katsuki stares at the floor mindlessly, and thinks about what the hell he has done to deserve this. But maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about questions he already knows the answers to.
Kirishima fidgets with his fingers absently beside him, concern appearing in the lines of his face and in the stiffness of his shoulders.
“We all heard it,” he hesitantly begins. “The fight between you and Midoriya.”
Katsuki crumbles, head falling into his hands. “Fuck.”
“We didn’t hear much because of all the shaking,” he tries to reassure softly. “We knew something was going on, but we didn’t think it was that bad.” Kirishima places a comforting hand on his back. “What the hell happened?”
Kirishima isn’t asking out of curiosity. He isn’t asking for the sake of getting some private intel. He’s asking because he’s genuinely worried.
Kirishima has never been one to judge. He is the type of person who always keeps an open mind. But more importantly, he never pressures Katsuki into talking, and he has never made him feel excluded despite his own resistance. Kirishima has always been there when everyone else was busy with their own shit.
“I acted like a dick,” Katsuki grunts out.
“I gathered as much.” Kirishima nudges him gently. “But why?”
“Found he kissed someone,” he admits thickly. “Made me lose my shit.”
“Bro…” Kirishima starts carefully. “That happened so long ago.”
“I know,” Katsuki groans.
Katsuki knows a part of his anger is unjustified. He knows he has no right to be angry at something that happened before he and Izuku mended their relationship. But he can’t stop thinking about it, and his sick and twisted jealousy burns like an exploding star meant for chaos and destruction because that’s something Katsuki is unfortunately good at. He knows how to hurt, break and destroy, and when his anger gets the best of him, it's all he knows.
“Did you even know he would be gone today?”
“No, but I told him to leave.”
Kirishima hums weakly. “And you don’t know where he is?”
“No,” he repeats, but then pauses to think about it. His gaze snaps towards Kirishima. ”Where the fuck is he?”
Kirishima eyes the floor. “Ortheon.”
Katsuki jumps up from the bed, palms sparkling and burning. “He decided to visit that fucking—”
“It was decided weeks ago,” Kirishima interrupts before anything gets blown up. He gets up from the bed, a deep frown etched onto his face, showcasing a seriousness that Katsuki rarely sees outside of training. “It seems he never got to tell you since you guys stopped talking.”
Katsuki’s palms grow cold. “I never gave him a chance to say shit.”
“You didn’t,” Kirishima agrees.
Katsuki drops down onto the bed again, lowering his head. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
He brings his hand to his mouth. “What is he even doing over there?”
“He’s gotten popular again, so they want him to do a press conference and interviews. The citizens seriously love him,” Kirishima explains before he goes to sit down.
“I fucked up,” he whispers.
“Just a little,” Kirishima says.
Izuku loves opportunities where he gets to interact with people and make them feel safe in his presence. That is the part he enjoys the most about being a hero, aside from all the saving and rescuing. Katsuki knows he must have been ranting about it to everyone around him since the whole trip got officially announced, but he never got to say anything because Katsuki was acting like a dick.
And now, Izuku has gone back to Ortheon. Back to Rody.
Rody, who doesn’t get angry.
Rody, who has a normal life.
Rody, who is a good person.
Rody is everything he isn’t, but that’s where the appeal is.
Izuku deserves happiness, and Katsuki needs to accept that his happiness might not start with him.
Maybe he is already happy with someone else. Maybe that someone is Rody.
“Do you think—” He can’t even say it. He can’t let the thoughts become real.
“No,” Kirishima says. “Midoriya would never date him.”
“You don’t know that,” he sneers with a glare.
Kirishima gives him a sharp look. “Don’t tell me you’re this dense.”
“The fuck?”
Kirishima raises an eyebrow, and the pointed stare doesn’t waver. Katsuki bares his teeth, but Kirishima is too familiar with his antics to be bothered.
“Care to remind me what happened when you cut your finger?”
Katsuki wants to blow his head off. “Nothing happened.”
“Sure as hell didn’t look like nothing.”
Katsuki growls. “You walked in when—”
“When he was about to kiss you.”
Katsuki hates him for doing this. His heart twists in his chest at the memory, yearning and aching for something that doesn’t exist.
“You’re reading it all wrong,” he snarls angrily.
“Okay,” Kirishima says easily. “But just think about it, Katsuki.”
“What?” he asks tightly, tension sitting high on his shoulders.
“I don’t think Midoriya would date someone who wasn’t you,” Kirishima tells him honestly. “Do you even know how many people approach him? He is handsome and popular, but he turns them all down because he’s waiting for you to get your shit together.”
There’s too much information for Katsuki’s emotionally constipated brain to process. Steam is basically bursting out of his ears trying to comprehend everything that’s happening.
“Oh,” he whispers.
“He literally only has eyes for you,” Kirishima continues softly, picking up on his inner turmoil. “He wants you just as much as you want him, but you really need to get your shit together before he comes back.”
Katsuki needs to apologise. That’s what he needs to do. Izuku never deserved to have all that anger directed at him in the first place. Katsuki needs to deal with the unforgiving jealousy, and accept the kiss happened and believe it truly didn’t mean anything.
He needs to believe that Izuku might want to be his.
He needs to believe that he might be able to make Izuku happy.
Emotions and feelings are fucking exhausting.
The bed squeaks when Kirishima suddenly stands up, and Katsuki realises he hasn’t said anything.
“I’ll leave you alone, alright? You need to get some rest.”
“Right,” Katsuki answers. “Thanks for helping me or whatever.”
Kirishima gives a bright smile in response.
Katsuki is close to losing his shit.
He hasn’t heard one word from Izuku since their fight, and he can’t handle the anguish that comes with it. He desperately wants to text him, but Katsuki is a massive fucking chicken, and tries to ignore the way he silently yearns after contact.
He has gone back to class, officially done being pathetic, and everyone around him welcomes him back like he died all over again.
Katsuki also gets to reflect on the conversation with Kirishima. He can admit that he overreacted and fucked up, only thinking about his own jealous-driven pain, and not at all considering how he made Izuku feel because of it.
Katsuki needs to mend things again, needs to reach out first to apologise for his shitty behaviour, but things get ten times more complicated when Izuku isn’t even in the country.
Being forced to send a silly text message might be easy for some, but Katsuki hates the distance it creates. This is not something that can be resolved over text. They need to do it in person, but Katsuki can’t go another day without a message or hearing Izuku’s voice.
Todoroki keeps shooting him glances throughout the day as they take on their duties at the internship, but it’s only during their lunch break that Katsuki actually notices.
They have found a vacant rooftop, and Todoroki keeps glancing at him. Katsuki doesn’t call him out on it, too occupied with his yearning and texting dilemma. His phone lies on the concrete beside him, and he can’t stop himself from picking it up and going to his old messages with Izuku. His heart clenches at the sight of all the emojis, so he puts the phone back down and takes a bite of his food.
Todoroki stares at him again. A lot of people do that now. Like they’re waiting for him to break or blow up. Katsuki thinks he’s close to doing both.
“Just text him already.”
Katsuki huffs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You pick up the phone and put it back down,” Todoroki says bluntly. “That’s the fifth time in eight minutes.”
“Quit watching me,” Katsuki tells him.
“I’ll do what I want.”
“Bitch.”
“Shitface.”
“Hah,” Katsuki breathes out in a laugh. “Good one.”
Todoroki appears overly pleased. “Thank you.”
Katsuki picks up the phone again with a sigh. He should start with a simple apology, maybe acknowledge that his behaviour was uncalled for, but he doesn’t want to write an entire novel. That would defeat the purpose of having the conversation when Izuku comes back home.
He puts down the phone again.
“And that’s the sixth time in ten minutes.”
Katsuki flips him off. “Fuck off.”
“Sorry,” Todoroki says drily. “Not gonna happen.”
“You little—”
“Just text him,” he repeats with a flat look. “He’s waiting for it.”
The words die on his tongue. “You spoke to him?”
Todoroki rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”
“Fine,” Katsuki spits out. “I’ll fucking text him. Right now.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I hate you right now.”
Todoroki smiles warmly, like the pest he is. “I think you’re a great friend, too.”
He can’t kill anyone on the job. He can’t kill anyone on the job. He can’t kill anyone on the job.
He picks up the phone again, and doesn’t let himself overthink it. He starts typing and ends up with a short message, hoping that'll be enough until Izuku comes back home.
Katsuki: I’m sorry for being a dick. Let’s talk about it when you come home.
He reads it back and realises how stupid he sounds. He also considers deleting and starting over, but maybe that would make the situation—
The building starts to shake.
Everything trembles underneath them, the air around them suddenly heavy with dust.
Katsuki tries to push himself up, but tumbles closer to the edge of the roof. Todoroki calls out to him in a panicked yell, and the air gets thicker and grey with dirt. Katsuki tries to say something, but dust is everywhere around him, and he can’t stop himself from breathing it in.
The building stills.
Katsuki coughs and pushes himself up, covering his mouth and nose with his arm. His eyes are burning, lungs constricting due to the inhalation of unclean air. Tears spring to his eyes as he chokes on his breath, and he manages to spot Todoroki from the corner of his eye.
The shaking starts again.
He forces himself to keep his balance and walk in the direction where Todoroki is, but the building tilts, collapsing under its own weight, and Katsuki falls to his knees, sliding right back to the edge.
The resounding creaks and cracks of the building echo in the atmosphere, and Katsuki’s ears ring from the sheer volume of it. His gloved hands are digging hard into the concrete beneath him as he waits for the trembling to stop.
He and Todoroki are completely immobilised, unable to do shit. The thick layer of dust hanging in the air makes it too risky and dangerous for them to use their Quirks.
The shaking stops.
Katsuki stays down, muscles straining from keeping himself still. He brings one of his gloved hands to his mouth and gets to his feets, going in the other direction, calling out to Todoroki through the horrifying noise of the building crumbling right under them.
Then he spots a flicker of fire.
Katsuki runs like he has never run before, and grabs Todoroki’s shoulder as soon as he’s within reach. Todoroki jumps, but the frantic look in his eyes dims at the sight of Katsuki in front of him.
“We need to get down!” Katsuki yells.
“I know!” Todoroki takes hold of his wrist with his other hand. “We need—”
Everything is violently shaking under them, crumbling and fracturing at the seams as the building tilts further to the side. Katsuki and Todoroki fall to their knees, hands clasped together as the fire goes out.
And then they are sliding.
The building is collapsing and falling apart, and they are sliding right off the edge.
And then they are falling.
They are falling, and everything is moving fast around them. Todoroki yells something, but they continue to fall, no way of knowing how close they are to the ground. They can’t make explosions or make a block of ice. Someone could get hurt.
But then they die.
They will fall to their deaths if they don’t.
Katsuki would die without apologising directly to Izuku.
Todoroki pulls sharply on his arm. “Make an explosion to stall the fall!”
Katsuki does it without thinking.
He makes a single, powerful explosion with the arm that isn’t currently restrained. It buys them a second or two as the impact forces them back up, and Todoroki creates a massive block of ice, starting at the wall of the shaking building, and they come down with a crash.
Katsuki hears the sound of a crack, but he’s running high on adrenaline and doesn't know who the hell just broke something, but blood is starting to soak through his uniform. He doesn’t know if it’s his own or Todoroki’s.
The massive block ice is hovering in the air, shading people underneath from the sun. It shakes and slowly starts to crack, but Todoroki reinforces it again.
Katsuki can’t breathe. The crash pushed all air out of his lungs. “Good thinking,” he rasps pathetically through heaving breaths.
Todoroki coughs beside him. He doesn’t sound much better. “Thanks.”
Black spots are already starting to dance around in a familiar pattern in Katsuki’s vision. Maybe he hit his head. He can’t feel anything, and he certainly can’t move.
Everything fades to black.
Katsuki and Todoroki both end up in the hospital for three days, but thanks to their quick thinking, their injuries were relatively minor.
Katsuki dislocated his shoulder and hit his head, resulting in a minor concussion. It was nothing Recovery Girl and the hospital staff couldn’t fix, but they still kept him for extra observation.
Todoroki also ended up with a concussion, though it was severe compared to the one Katsuki’s, and he shattered his knee during the landing. While Recovery Girl and the staff did everything they could, Todoroki is forced to walk on crutches until he gets some energy back before he can be healed fully.
They both also needed extra oxygen during their stay because of all the inhalation of dust, but won’t suffer any long-lasting effects.
From what Katsuki knows, a villain with an earthquake Quirk is responsible and is currently in custody. They don’t know the villain’s motive, but the other pros don’t think it’s anything too concerning.
Endeavor described the villain as a small fry with too much time on his hands, and told Todoroki and Katsuki that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Katsuki doesn’t like the way he makes everything seem so meaningless. People were hurt because of this, but Endeavor makes it sound like nothing more but a small inconvenience in his schedule. Katsuki is starting to understand more and more why Todoroki doesn’t enjoy his company very much.
“Give me your stuff,” Katsuki demands
Todoroki blinks at him owlishly. He has a bandage on the side of neck for reasons Katsuki can’t remember. Todoroki hands him his things wordlessly, looking exhausted.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
“Don’t mention it.”
They’ve finally gotten back from the hospital, and the doors to the dorms open before they even make it to the doorstep. People are rushing towards them, looking all concerned and shit. Katsuki tries to make them back off a bit, but they are literally everywhere.
It still doesn’t stop him from searching for Izuku, but he isn’t back yet. Katsuki doesn’t even have the opportunity to text or call him because his phone shattered during all the chaos, but maybe he didn’t even respond. He could’ve ignored Katsuki’s message for all he knows.
Kirishima crushes him in a hug, and Katsuki nearly drops all the bags in his hands. “We’re all so happy you both made it back in one piece.” He turns towards Todoroki next. “Do you need help getting inside? When’s your next session with Recovery Girl?”
“There’s no need to act like a mother hen,” Katsuki says and starts to walk inside. He’s fucking exhausted and wants to sleep for the next thousand years to come.
Todoroki follows him, though a bit slower. “I can make it back inside on my own,” he tells Kirishima, but it seems everyone is listening in. “I’m seeing her again in a couple of days. Everything is fine.”
“Just tell us if you need anything,” Uraraka says, and several people nod.
Katsuki does a dismissive wave. “I need some sleep.”
“Me too,” Todoroki says.
The others leave them alone after that, and Katsuki and Todoroki go to their respective rooms.
Katsuki dumps his things on the floor with a groan. His entire body is aching and even moving towards the bathroom to shower feels like a chore. But he does get it done, and the warm water is soothing the ache and tension in him.
He walks back to his room with a towel draped over his shoulders, sweatpants secured low on his hips and a tank top framing his chest and torso. He goes to close the curtains to block out any light before drying his hair a final time and throwing the towel carelessly onto his desk chair.
He drops onto the bed heavily, back touching the mattress as his eyes fall shut. He could fall asleep like this without even getting under the covers because this is a thousand times better than the shitty bed he had to sleep in at the hospital.
Sleep is already washing over him in small waves with his muscles gradually relaxing, but a particularly loud bang from downstairs has Katsuki jolting awake.
He rubs his eyes again with a groan and sits up again. He should’ve known that getting some rest is impossible while everyone else is running around like headless animals.
The commotion continues, a sudden series of rapid knocks sounding on Katsuki’s door. It forces him to swing his legs over the bed and get back up when all he wants to do is sleep.
“Fucking fuckers,” he grumbles. He stands up with heavy reluctance, walking over to the door and ripping it open. “What do you—”
“Hi.”
Katsuki has to be dreaming.
Izuku is right in front of him, and he doesn’t look good. His hair is messier than Katsuki remembers, the bags under his eyes dark and prominent. He lets out a shaky breath as his green eyes dart all over Katsuki’s face, already shining with unshed tears.
“Izuku,” he whispers back.
He sniffles weakly. “Hi Kacchan.”
He takes a tiny, unsure step forward, and Katsuki automatically opens the door a little wider. A single tear falls down Izuku’s left cheek as he sniffles again, the lonesome tear is followed up by another. Then one more. They fall slowly, like the beginning of a storm that escalates gradually. The current anguish on Izuku’s face brings back too many memories of rain and raging storms that still haunt them both at night.
Izuku takes another step closer, and the door opens a little more. Katsuki doesn’t even realise how fast his heart is beating, but his palms are sweaty and his throat runs dry. Izuku continues to come closer, and Katsuki’s hand continues to open the door until they’re standing chest to chest.
“You’re back,” Katsuki whispers so quietly that Izuku leans closer on instinct.
He smiles wetly. “Yeah.”
He scans over Katsuki’s face through his blurry vision, and raises a hesitant hand. It’s trembling in the air, but it moves determinately and presses against Katsuki’s chest. His heart.
Katsuki sucks in a small breath, and Izuku chokes on a suppressed sob.
Katsuki abandons his hold on the door and brings both of his hands on top of Izuku’s trembling one. “I’m still here.” Izuku’s eyes snap up at the sound of his voice. Katsuki’s breath quivers in his throat. “I’m right here, Izuku.”
Izuku crumbles and crashes into him. “Kacchan,” he gasps out like he can't breathe. The sobs are racking through his body as he struggles to catch his breath, the sounds muffled by Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki wraps his arms around him and pulls him as close as the universe will allow. He buries his head in the wild curls he’s been missing for days on end. All words leave him, mind turning blank when he needs them the most. He can’t think of anything other than the pain he has put Izuku through, and how unfair he has been.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I’m so fucking sorry, Izuku.” He starts shaking his head, but Katsuki forces him to stay still as he cries. “I shouldn’t have acted like that, and I shouldn’t have said any of those awful things. I had no fucking right to get angry at you.”
Izuku is clutching onto him, like he is afraid Katsuki will disappear if he lets go too soon. The high-pitched cries pierce through the room like sharpened daggers, and Katsuki feels desperate to make it stop. He hates making Izuku cry more than anything, so being the cause for all his pain is like having his heart stop beating all over again.
“I’m so sorry for hurting and ignoring you,” Katsuki says, fingers sinking into Izuku’s hair. “You tried explaining everything to me, but I wouldn’t let you, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right, Izuku.”
Izuku’s fingers begin to loosen slightly, but still stay right where they are at the back of Katsuki’s shirt. He starts to straighten up slowly, and Katsuki lets his hand fall away from his hair. Izuku’s cheeks are wet with tears that drip down his chin. Katsuki can’t stand the sight of it, and instinctively lifts his hands to wipe them all away.
“I thought I lost you again,” Izuku says wetly. “I saw the news—”
“I’m still here,” Katsuki hurries to say again. “I’m right here, Izuku.”
Izuku sniffles, and more tears escape from his eyes. He nuzzles into Katsuki’s hands with a shaky exhale, like he can’t believe this is actually happening. But for all Katsuki knows, Izuku has been imagining the absolute worst ever since he read the headlines.
“I got your message and five minutes later, the news reported a sudden earthquake that—” Izuku’s head collides with Katsuki’s chest again with a choked sob. “I tried calling you, Kacchan. I tried calling you so many times, but you never picked up.”
Katsuki’s throat feels tight. “My phone got shattered. I texted you during work hours.”
“I came back as soon as I could,” Izuku continues into his chest, hands trembling against his back. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I'm sorry for leaving like that. I would’ve cancelled if I could because I didn’t want to go when things were bad between us, but I had already gotten the tickets and—”
“Izuku—”
He finally looks back up. “I’m sorry for pushing you to talk when you obviously needed space. I should’ve waited for you to come to me, but I never got to tell you about the trip and I really didn’t want to leave out of nowhere.”
It feels like they’re having two different conversations at the same time, both of them desperate to say the words they never got to say in the first place. Everything about this is chaotic, words and confessions rushing out of them both like a waterfall.
“Don’t apologise,” Katsuki says. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
Izuku’s hands are still trembling as they hold on to the back of Katsuki’s shirt, but it seems his crying has subsided a little by now. “I pushed you to talk when you weren’t ready.”
“I needed that push, Izuku.”
Izuku sniffles in response before he hugs Katsuki tightly again. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
Katsuki relaxes against him and allows himself to have one more moment where everything feels right, where it feels like everything is falling into place. One of his hands rests on Izuku’s back, while the other cradles the back of his head. He breathes in Izuku’s scent and indulges in this feeling one last time because they both know that they’ll never talk about this again.
Izuku pulls away from his chest eventually, and Katsuki removes his hands, clenching them by his sides so he doesn’t do anything stupid. The last thing he needs to do is make an embarrassment of himself again.
Izuku takes a tiny step backwards as he dries his eyes. He looks up at Katsuki, the light finally returning to his eyes little by little. Katsuki’s heart soars in his chest at the sight, reminded once again why he fell in love in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku whispers. “I just came in without—”
“It’s okay,” Katsuki whispers back, then peeks at the floor. “I’m happy you’re home.”
Katsuki doesn’t dare to look back up, but a pair of scarred hands are taking hold of his own before he can even process anything that’s happening. Izuku has a soft smile on his lips, eyes glinting in Katsuki's dimly lit room. Katsuki opens his mouth soundlessly because he has no idea what to do now.
They don’t do this. They don’t linger like this. They’re meant to part ways and pretend none of this ever happened.
“Izuku,” he rasps, gripping his hands harder as an attempt to ground himself a little. His head is spinning, blood rushing through his veins as the adrenaline makes him dizzy. “I—”
“I’m really happy you’re okay,” Izuku whispers again.
Katsuki’s gaze returns firmly to the floor as his heartbeat speeds up even more. He makes a quiet affirmative noise in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
Izuku pulls his hands out of Katsuki’s grasp before coming closer again. Both of his hands find their way to Katsuki’s face, and he carefully tilts it up so their eyes meet anew. Katsuki’s mind goes blank as he looks into Izuku’s eyes, and it feels like his heart is about to burst when Izuku suddenly caresses his face with so much tenderness.
“It’s okay, Kacchan.”
Izuku doesn’t appear to notice the way Katsuki is slowly losing his sanity. He doesn’t appear to notice the way Katsuki is currently restraining himself with all his might, but even though he tries to resist, he can’t help himself.
Katsuki naturally gravitates closer to Izuku. Every single fiber of his entire being is gravitated towards him and always will be. It feels like a magnetic pull that Katsuki can’t escape. He will always be drawn to Izuku. He will always be within his radius and orbit because it feels right.
Katsuki can’t fight it. He seriously can’t fight it. Invisible strings are tugging him closer and closer to the thing he wants the most in the world. He hasn’t even noticed the way he is leaning closer, or how Izuku’s eyes dart down to his mouth before they flutter.
Their foreheads touch, a single breath between their lips.
“Izuku,” he rasps again, hands almost trembling by his sides.
“Kacchan,” he says back, and the tone of his voice is so fucking soft.
One of Izuku’s hands settles on the back of his neck. The feeling of his palm against Katsuki’s bare skin has him shivering. The skin of his palm is rough, but his touch carries a gentleness that Katsuki has been yearning for. He has been yearning for this moment where he can finally give in to the desires that he has been trying so hard to ignore.
“I really wanna kiss you,” Izuku breathes out. “If you don’t want that, you need to tell me.”
The invisible strings give a final tug, and Katsuki ceases to resist. He lets himself be dragged along the path the universe had laid out for him, a path that leads him directly towards Izuku.
Katsuki slots their mouths together in a desperate kiss, hoping it conveys all the words he has been waiting to say for so long. All tension releases from his body instantly, like the stars are aligning and everything is finally falling into place after being disrupted for too long. This is what a kiss is meant to feel like.
Izuku moans happily into his mouth and immediately sinks into him, one hand cupping his face and the other holding onto the back of his neck. Izuku clings to him and chases his mouth, body pressing closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
It feels like Izuku is naturally gravitating towards him, like he is doing everything in his power to stay in Katsuki’s orbit, like the universe is telling them both to stay together forever.
Katsuki chooses to believe that.
“Be mine,” he finds himself whispering, hands sliding down Izuku’s torso.
Izuku’s breath hitches.
“You’re it for me,” Katsuki continues quietly because he finally can. He can finally be honest with Izuku and with himself. “You’re the only one for me, and I’m so fucking in love with you that it makes me stupid.”
Izuku’s eyes glaze over, like he can’t believe this is happening.
Katsuki can’t seem to stop. “I’ll show you what it’s like to be loved. I’ll show you that I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’ll show you that I’m better than anyone else in the world.”
Izuku blinks up at him before he leans in and kisses him gently on the mouth. Katsuki’s hands slide further down to his hips, needing the touch to stay grounded, needing to know that this is real and that Izuku is actually here.
“You’re the best,” Izuku tells him softly. “You’re so good, Kacchan. I don’t want anyone else, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks.
“Yeah,” Izuku whispers. “I can’t love anyone the way I love you.”
“Me too,” he hurries to say, breathless and dazed.
Izuku smiles at him. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles with a blush. “Just c’mere and let me kiss you.”
Izuku closes the gap between them again with a smile that resembles the sun.
Maybe the universe doesn’t hate Katsuki that much after all.