Chapter Text
The party had ended an hour ago, but Izuku Midoriya was still awake.
Still sitting on the edge of his bed, flushed from the alcohol, curly hair a mess, hoodie slipping from one shoulder—waiting like the idiot he was.
He looked good. Too good.
The dorm room door clicked shut behind Bakugou Katsuki. The hallway noise died with it, swallowed by the thin, humid air and the faint hum of their cheap LED strip lights—orange and green, of all colors—buzzing quietly in the silence.
Katsuki stood there for a second, staring at him.
“You’re still up,” he muttered, dropping his keys on the desk and kicking off his shoes with more force than necessary.
“You told me to wait,” Izuku replied, voice low, eyes fixed on him in a way that made Katsuki's stomach pull tight. “So I did.”
Katsuki scoffed and turned toward the mini-fridge, pulling out a can of off-brand beer without looking at him.
“Didn’t think you’d actually listen for once.”
“I try to,” Izuku said. “When it’s important.”
His voice was sticky and soft, and Katsuki felt it all the way down his spine.
It wasn’t fair, the way Izuku looked under dim lights—messy curls, flushed cheeks, thighs half-bared by those too-small shorts, legs spread just enough to drive him insane.
For months, this had been the new normal: close proximity and unbearable tension. Their dorm wasn’t that big. They bumped into each other in the kitchenette. Sat side-by-side on movie nights, barely touching. Talked at 2 a.m. about dreams and regrets and the pressure of their college program until the air grew too thick to breathe.
God, he knew Izuku’s breathing patterns at this point. Knew the exact pitch of his laugh when he was really happy.
And now he was sitting there like a damn invitation Katsuki couldn’t ignore much longer.
Katsuki cracked the can open and stared into it like it held divine answers.
“Why’d you want me to wait?” Izuku asked after a moment, his fingers curling into the edge of the mattress. “You said you needed to talk,” he added, more gently this time. “Kacchan?”
Katsuki’s jaw twitched. “Yeah.”
He could feel Izuku watching him. The silence pressed in tighter.
“So... talk.”
Katsuki didn’t. He was thinking about the way Izuku’s voice cracked a little when he was nervous. The way he always tugged his sleeves when he was unsure. And how he looked right now—wide-eyed, vulnerable, and waiting for Katsuki to talk like whatever he said might rewrite the universe.
Then Izuku stood. Walked over. Slowly. Like he wasn’t sure Katsuki would let him get close.
And when he reached for him—just a light touch at his wrist—Katsuki snapped .
“You always do that shit,” he growled, voice low. “Act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
Izuku blinked, but didn’t pull away. “I don’t. I mean—I wasn’t trying—”
“Bullshit,” Katsuki said. “Sitting there like that. Looking at me like that. Like you want something.”
Izuku’s lips parted. He looked stunned. Then he swallowed, hard.
“I do,” he said. The words came out quiet, but clear. “I do want something... I’ve wanted something for a long time.”
Katsuki’s stomach twisted.
“I just didn’t think you wanted it too,” Izuku continued. “I mean, I hoped—but I thought if I said something, I’d ruin everything.”
Katsuki didn’t answer. He was too busy watching the way Izuku’s throat moved as he swallowed, the tremble in his fingers, the way he looked like he might run—or lean in.
Then Izuku stepped forward. Breached the space between them. He was so close Katsuki could feel his breath.
“Tell me if I’m wrong,” Izuku whispered. “Tell me to back off, and I will.”
Katsuki didn’t move.
“You’re not wrong,” he said. “I’m just a fucking coward.”
Izuku’s eyes softened. “You’re just scared.”
He reached out, fingers curling in Katsuki’s shirt—gently, like asking for permission.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered. “Every night.”
Katsuki surged forward, closing the distance. He gripped the front of Izuku’s hoodie and slammed their mouths together like he’d been holding back for months—because he had .
There was nothing soft about it. It was too much, too fast, months of pent-up frustration and longing crashing together all at once.
Izuku gasped, opening to him instantly, hands tangling in Katsuki’s hair, pulling him closer like he was drowning in him.
“Fuck,” Bakugou growled into his mouth, teeth grazing his bottom lip before he bit down gently. “You’re so fucking— god , Deku .”
He backed him toward the bed, lips dragging down his neck.
“You have no idea,” he growled against Izuku’s skin, breath hot. “How long I’ve wanted this.”
Izuku pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, cheeks pink, lip slightly swollen now.
“Then show me,” he whispered.