Archive of Our Own

Katsuki, at first, thinks the worst thing about all this is that he wasn’t even on duty when it happened.

No. He can patrol for dozens of ten-hour shifts and have no mishaps, even without clearance to use his quirk yet, but god forbid he goes grocery shopping without incident. How dare he want a normal, uneventful afternoon.

They’re technically still students. It’s dumb—and Katsuki knows it, the teachers know it, hell all of society knows it. The students of U.A. have plenty of experience to be full time pros. But society’s still healing, and the students are still healing, so resuming classes (as second years, now) was someone’s shitty idea of how to get some sense of normalcy back.

And even though it’s bullshit, Katsuki doesn’t really mind. They let the students work a few days a week if they decide to, and then they have classes the rest. They had the option to return to the dorms, too, which all of 2A did. They all get to hang out, and when the silence gets to be too much, they have each other.

Ugh. He’s gotten a bit sappy about it all.

But that doesn’t mean it’s all great. Take today, for example, when some fucking idiot (Kaminari, most likely) used the last of the butter they had in their kitchen. Katsuki was planning to cook that night, so he had to go out and get some. Alone, too, since nearly everyone else is working.

And isn’t it just fucking lovely that he gets hit with a quirk while doing just that.

Well, hit isn’t quite the right word.

He’s walking down an aisle when suddenly the shelves on the left tilt and start falling. There’s only one other person in the aisle—a child, younger than ten—and Katsuki immediately jumps into action. He scoops her up with his good arm and moves just out of the way of the shelves that fall over with a whirlwind of sound of items falling and then a loud thud when it hits the ground.

The girl in his arms yelped in surprise, while other customers in the store gasped or screamed when they noticed what was happening.

“You alright?” She’s got a tight grip on his shirt, but he’s sure she’s okay. Even off duty, Katsuki’s the fucking best of course. After a moment, she confirms it with a nod.

Katsuki doesn’t know why this kid was left alone, but before he can tear her guardian a new one, he’s got someone else who needs a good talking to.

People barely start to gather around where the whole thing happened when Katsuki spots the culprits.

Two middle school boys. Of course. They look immensely guilty.

“Hey! The hell did you two do?”

“Sorry! We were just messing around—”

“I lost control of my quirk, I really didn’t mean to--!”

“Shut it! You could’ve let to a lot of people getting hurt! I oughta teach you dumbasses how to act in public pl—"

Suddenly, there’s a small hand on his arm. “Mister, you need to calm down.”

…And weirdly enough, Katsuki does. Like, almost immediately. His arm that had been gesturing wildly at the boys slowly drops, and his whole body seems to slump. He can’t seem to muster more words, instead opting to just blink, long and slow. Which, unfortunately, is not very intimidating.

The kids don’t seem to know why they were saved from a classic terrifying scolding from Dynamight, but they take the pause in his lecture as an excuse to book it out of there.

“We’re sorry, sir!” They shout behind them as they run out the front of the store.

Katsuki wants to yell after them. How dare those punks leave before he got the chance to really lay into them? But again, he can’t seem to find the energy.

He should be concerned, but even that thought seems sluggish. His eyes drift back to the girl in his arms. Hero duty first, always.

“Where’re your parents anyway?”

“Oh my gosh, Yuki!”

And there’s Katsuki’s answer. The little girl struggles in his arm until he sets her down, and she runs over to the woman with an excited, “Mom!”

They hug. It’s a sweet scene, sure, but Katsuki’s not one to melt at something like this. Not even when he feels seconds away from melting into the floor to take a nap. No-- The girl never would’ve been in danger in the first place if her mother had been more responsible.

Once again, even though he really wants to yell, he can’t manage it. Instead he says, “Hey, don’t leave your kid unattended. It’s dangerous.”

The mother nods with a tired smile, and bows slightly to apologize. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Her quirk got me yesterday, and I’m still not recovered, so I couldn’t keep up when she ran off.”

Oh shit. That sounds less than promising. The gears of his mind turn slowly, but Katsuki gets there regardless.

“… It wouldn’t have anything to do with sudden exhaustion, would it?”

The moms gentle smile slips, turning downward. “Oh no.”

…Fuck this whole day, honestly.

He takes his fingers and holds the bridge of his nose. He’d be livid right now if his body could get with the fucking program, but it’s not. Fucking. Working.

“Alright,” he breathes a long inhale before continuing, “explain. What is it?”

The mother calmly tells him, “It essentially a relaxation quirk. It slows down someone’s heartbeat to a resting rate, which leaves them really tired. It usually lasts a couple of days.” She smiles again, adding, “As long as you don’t have any heart conditions, there’s no reason to be really concerned!”

He stares at her. She stares back. Then she must remember who he is, finally. Or she sees the tired-but-still-murderous look in his eyes and realizes the situation.

“Oh no.” She says, again.

Seriously, fuck this entire day.

Katsuki had to report it to the U.A. staff. He may not be happy about it, but he’d rather not keel over and die just because he didn’t tell them about the stupid quirk.

So, he’s stuck with a watch that monitors his heart rate 24/7, again. It’s supposed to alert if it gets too low or whatever.

He’s so ridiculously tired already.

He feels his feet drag with every step through the common room. He looks down at his feet, glaring at them for not trying harder. He’s just a little fucking sleepy and now he can’t even walk right. It’s bullshit.

He makes it to his room, eventually and thankfully uninterrupted by any classmates. He’s so grateful for that, because he really, really doesn’t want to explain why he is moving slowly, and he really, really doesn’t want some idiots to take advantage that he’s not quite up to par, in anger or speed. He knows they’d just do it for fun, but the thought still makes his skin crawl uncomfortably.

He, pathetically, can’t manage to get to the restroom to brush his teeth before flopping onto his bed, passing out pretty much immediately at the contact of the soft sheets.

… And in what feels like the blink of an eye, and not nearly enough sleep, Katsuki wakes up to his alarm—or at least, he thinks he does. When he actually looks, though, he realizes that the alarm has already been going off for seven minutes solid. And that means he slept for nearly twelve hours straight. He doesn’t even think it’s the alarm that got his eyes to finally crack open—if he hadn’t needed to take a piss, who knows how long he would’ve kept sleeping.

And now, even though he is conscious, the task of getting up sounds infinitely daunting.

This is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. But like hell is a shitty toddler’s quirk going to keep him down.

He sighs, and forces his eyes to blink so he can see his phone more clearly, and hopefully wake up a little bit more.

At the top of the screen, there’s a notification on his screen from Izuku.

Lunch together today?

He and Izuku have been doing this dancing-around-the-topic thing for the last few months. They’re more than friends, maybe even best friends at this point, but that last little push into something more just hasn’t quite come yet. Katsuki thinks he flew a little close with his words from the hospital, but Izuku hasn’t said anything explicitly about it, yet.

Sure, they hang out almost every evening that they don’t work, and sure, they sometimes end up hanging out in each other’s room until one of them falls asleep, and sure, sometimes their eyes linger a bit too long on each other’s lips… and Katsuki kind of lost his train of thought.

Regardless of their in-limbo status, Katsuki isn’t about to be weak and deny himself and Izuku lunch together just because he’s a little drowsy.

He sends a confirmation, and then forces himself to stand, one leg at a time. He has to get to class, even though his mind feels hazy in the way it did when he was still on meds after being discharged from the hospital a few months ago.  Something uncomfortable swirls in his chest at the reminder.

He somehow trudges his way to his closet, and fumbles his way into getting fully dressed. By the time he steps foot in the common room, everyone appears to be long gone.

The walk helps, some. He knows he has to keep moving, at least, and he’s absolutely not going to pass out to take a nap in the middle of the sidewalk.

When he finally makes it to the classroom, everything feels too fast to keep up with.

“Whoa, Blasty! You barely made it before the bell!”

“Bro, we thought you were already here!”

“We missed you last night, too! Catching up on beauty sleep or what?”

Katsuki just blinks at all of them, and then gives then flips them off. It sends them into a fit of laughter strong enough to keep them from bothering him again as he makes his way to his desk.

Sitting down is dangerous, because his eyes almost immediately want to close. He hopes everyone thinks his expression is angry and not just exhausted, so they leave him alone. Because maybe he could just close his eyes for a split second, and it’ll all be fixed.

Then there’s a gentle touch on his arm.

“Good morning, Kacchan,” comes the nice rumble of Izuku’s voice behind him. Katsuki hadn’t even noticed him already sitting there, with his thoughts as foggy as they are. He shakes off the sleep just enough to twist in his seat and look at him.

The second he looks into Izuku’s eyes, he remembers, “Fuck. I forgot my lunch.”

He forgot breakfast, too, now that he thinks about it.

Stupid shitty quirk.

Izuku just smiles, and lets his hand reach out at the front of his desk so Katsuki can grab it. (That’s a thing they do now. Hold hands or whatever. They haven’t talked about it; they just do it. Katsuki’s still trying to get used to the swoop in his stomach every time they do this.)

“That’s okay,” he says, kind as ever with a gentle tilt of his lips, “we can just share mine. I don’t mind.”

Katsuki grunts, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He feels fuzzy in his mind, and also his hand where Izuku grips it. Their hands are entwined on top of his desk, and Katsuki thinks maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to use them as a pillow. Just set his head down and—

Mr. Aizawa walks through the door just as the bell rings for class to start.

Katsuki doesn’t whine out loud, but his heart really wants to keep looking at Izuku and playing with his hand, until he falls asleep.

(Holy fuck, is he always this sappy? It must be the quirk. Definitely. It has to be.)

But he can’t keep doing those things he wants, so he takes his hand back, turns around, and tries to pay attention.

Katsuki isn’t sure if he zoned out the whole four hours before lunch, or if his eyes actually closed at some point. He seriously underestimated how much this quirk was going to affect him. With how shitty and sluggish he feels, he counts himself lucky that he’s still upright when he becomes aware again.

The desks and chairs are shuffling around, and so are the other students. So it must be lunch time. This is confirmed when Izuku steps in front of him.

“Ready?”

It’s so stupid how much Katsuki likes Izuku’s smile.

Katsuki nods, and hoists his school bag over his shoulder. When he stands, his head feels a little less heavy. He blinks. He must’ve taken a damn good nap during class.

He and Izuku eat lunch on the rooftop, now. It’s much quieter than the bustling of the cafeteria. After the chaos of the war, neither of them are particularly fond of crowds. Besides, the fresh air is nice, and no one comments if they sit a little closer than typical “friendship” allows.

After making it to the top, they sit leaning up against the wall of the stairway.

“What would you like?” Izuku asks, “I have some rice, and fish, and vegetables, none of it's anything special, but if you don't mind something a little less spicy today they're good options—oh, but if you don’t want any of that, I know I have some protein bars left over from when I grabbed some before leaving for work the other day—”

The lull of his rambles relaxes Katsuki. As much as he hated it in the past, now he finds the cadence of it soothing.

Unfortunately, this time it’s too soothing. He already feels the fog coming in again, and he’s desperate to keep it away for as long as he possibly can.

“I’ll take a protein bar.” He doesn’t think he could manage holding chopsticks steady enough to eat anything else.

Izuku hands one over after rustling though his bag for a moment. Katsuki nods as a thank you, and then lets his head fall to rest on Izuku’s shoulder as he takes slow bites.

This is normal enough. He thinks. He hopes. Izuku doesn’t tense up or anything. Which is great, except for that it doesn’t actually help with the trying-to-not-fall-asleep-like-an-absolute-loser situation.

He takes a long, long time to chew on his third bite, and then his hand falls, unable to stay up any longer.

Goddamnit. Katsuki hates this quirk so much.

It’s then when Izuku asks, “Kacchan, is something wrong?”

Katsuki usually hates that question—a long-buried instinct wants to raise hackles at it, fight back at being looked down upon, even though he knows Izuku’s never meant it that way. And he really doesn’t want to talk about this, and acknowledge that he isn’t at his best right now.

But, also, he feels the need to explain himself. For some reason. Even though he doesn’t have to justify jack shit to anyone, this instance feels different. And it’s Izuku, so.

“Got hit with a quirk. Makes me tired. Not dangerous, just real fuckin’ annoying.”

Izuku pauses his chewing, and then hums, digesting the information and the food.

Katsuki’s glad he didn’t freak out immediately. They aren’t always exactly rational when it comes to each other. His explanation was enough, it seems.

Scarred fingers start playing with his own mangled ones. He asks, “Why aren’t you laying down, then?”

“…’m not fuckin’… weak.”

“Kacchan, no one would think that about you.”

Katsuki kind of really doesn’t have the energy for this discussion right now.

“I fucking hate this,” he says, instead. His eyes are closed—not even the bright sun could keep him from this tiredness it seems. He feels Izuku nod, taking the deflection and following it. He doesn’t press. He understands. Katsuki doesn’t deserve him.

Izuku tells him, “You can take a nap right here. I’ll wake you up before class, I promise.”

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t.

But the breeze is nice and Izuku smells nice and Katsuki is tired and he can’t quite remember why he shouldn’t.

His eyelids are too heavy. And just like that…

As much as he hates the fact that he’s been sleeping so much, waking up may take the cake for being the worst fucking part of this experience.

He groans as his body sways a little with gentle force.

“Sorry, Kacchan. Class starts in just a few minutes.”

Katsuki really doesn’t want to fucking go.

He doesn’t feel any more rested than before. He also doesn’t know how long he can keep this up—staying awake for the rest of the day seems so impossible, and he doesn’t want anyone else asking questions, or finding out about this. The stares, and the looks, and jokes—he doesn’t want any of it.

But he’s the fucking best. And he’s not going to let something like this cause him to fall behind.

With a deep inhale and exhale, his eyes open, and Izuku’s apologetic, concerned face greets him. Shit. He made Izuku worry.

That, if nothing else, gets his heart to move fast enough for him to actually feel like he could stand.

He does, and he takes Izuku’s offered hand, too, so he doesn’t disappoint him (and maybe because he wants to. Just maybe). They make their way back down to the classroom, and Katsuki tries to convince his brain that this is a mission that he can’t fumble, so he’s got to get it together.

Katsuki really appreciates that Izuku draws the attention of the idiot brigade as soon as they enter, so no one’s eyes follow Katsuki’s slumped posture, and the way his feet drag. He’ll need to remember to thank him later.

Class starts again soon enough. Katsuki really tries to pay attention, but every minute or so he has to shake his head in order to stay awake. It’s taking all his energy just to not let his head fall.

His foot gets pushed once. Katsuki ignores it. Then, it gets tapped again, just a moment later, and Katsuki feels his eyebrow twitch.

He twists just barely enough to look at Izuku, the culprit, who holds up a finger to his lips to remind Katsuki to keep quiet.

Then he whispers, “It’ll help keep you awake.”

Oh. Okay. That’s not as annoying then.

It actually helps. In the haze of his thoughts, Katsuki starts looking forward to when he’d feel the light contact of Izuku’s shoe touch his pant leg, and then press softly into his ankle.

Sappy as fuck. Katsuki kind of hates how easily he falls into thoughts like that, these days.

They pass the remainder of the day that way. When the final bell rings, Katsuki sighs in relief. If this damn quirk lasts about two days, at least tomorrow is the weekend and he won’t have to endure classes again. He does have to miss out on a day of patrol due to medical leave, which is frustrating as hell, but at least this is over.

He’s looking forward to getting back to the dorms, to his room, except for the part that he actually has to get there.

Katsuki turns around to look at Izuku, and forgets to get mad at himself when his brain conjures up ridiculous fantasies. Like Izuku picking him up and carrying him back to the dorms, or like falling asleep on his shoulder again right here and taking another nap, safe and secure with Izuku’s hair tickling his cheek. Stupid shit like that. Blegh.

“Deku!” Uraraka calls as she approaches. Her smile isn’t quite what it used to be, but it’s getting there. They all are. “Tsu, Iida, and I are going out to eat tonight—you game?”

The answer is a kind, but immediate, “Sorry, Kacchan and I have plans tonight. Maybe next time though!”

Katsuki blinks, but doesn’t let any surprise show on his face. They didn’t have any scheduled plans—he wouldn’t forget something like that, not even in the state he’s in. Sure, they’re together a lot these days, but that doesn’t mean Katsuki needs all of Izuku’s spare time.

Uraraka isn’t upset at all at the rejection, saying, “I figured, but didn’t want to leave you out. Next Friday we want to do something again, so keep your schedule open, okay? And Bakugou,” she turns to him, “feel free to come, too!”

Katsuki nods. If Izuku wants to go, he’ll consider it.

Across the room, he hears, “Aww, so I guess that means we can’t get Bakugou to go out with us tonight.”

For the first time all day, Katsuki finds the energy to respond verbally. “I spend enough time with you bastards already,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it, and they know it, so Ashido, Denki, and Kirishima just smile.

“Sorry, guys,” Izuku apologizes to them, to fill the silence when Katsuki can’t find the energy to respond again.

And what’s kind of insane is that Katsuki is actually sorry. Because they’re his closest friends, but still the thought of sitting with them in this compromised state makes his skin crawl. It’s too real. Too much. So he’s both confused and grateful that Izuku’s given him the out.

As he and Izuku walk out, Ashido shouts, “Have fun on your date, Blasty!”

He makes sure to flip them off again before they’re out of sight.

Their walk back is pretty quiet. Their fingers brush every so often. Katsuki feels just a bit more awake now that he’s moving, but he thinks he might fade again if he leans too close to Izuku’s warmth.

And, he’s got something to say, so he’s got to keep his head clear enough for a conversation.

“You can go with Uraraka ‘nd them,” he grumbles, trying to sound stern, “You don’t hafta stay with me.” He hates that his words slur a bit.

Izuku, selfless as always, just says, “I want to stay with you, though.”

Katsuki shakes his head, trying to get through to him. “You should do somethin’ that makes you happy.”

“Being with you makes me happy.”

Oh, this smooth motherfucker.

Katsuki pushes Izuku’s stupidly handsome face away, which just causes the other to laugh. The sound echoes just slightly through the open field.

He hates that it made his heart pick up again enough to make the walk easier. Point made, they like each other, he gets it, can his heart shut the fuck up now?

When they make it back to the dorms, Katsuki starts feeling sluggish again. He feels guilty that Izuku wants his company tonight, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stay awake too long. It sucks so much.

Izuku guides them over to the couch. Katsuki sits down, but doesn’t let himself lean into the cushions right away. He has to stay awake—he has to—

“Are you hungry at all?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki thinks for just a moment. Honestly, nothing outweighs his need to just clock the fuck out and sleep, but he also really doesn’t want to do that. And he hasn’t eaten since lunch, so he should probably…

He doesn’t know how long he zoned out, but Izuku doesn’t comment on it.

“…Maybe something quick.”

Izuku nods, and then says excitedly, “I have an idea! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll come with—”

“Kacchan, it’s okay. You can relax.”

He blinks. And then Izuku’s not in front of him anymore. Oh.

God, the fog comes back too fucking quickly. Katsuki looks at the dark screen of the TV, and the reflection of himself that he sees is just as foggy as he feels. He doesn’t know what Izuku has planned for the evening, but at night—Katsuki doesn’t want to be alone. He slept through seven minutes of alarms this morning. And he knows, logically, that the watch on his wrist will alert Recovery Girl if it slips below safe for more than a few minutes, and she’ll send someone to come wake him up, but what if he just… can’t. What if there’s an attack and he just fucking sleeps through it, what if—?

“Kacchan, do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Oh. Izuku’s back. And his heart tugs painfully in his chest as it tries to beat just a bit faster, because Katsuki is so damn grateful to put off going to his room for a bit longer. “Sure. M’sorry I’m not the best company tonight, though.”

Izuku settles himself on the other end of the couch. “I really don’t mind, Kacchan. I promise.” In each hand, he’s got a cup. He hands one to Katsuki. There’s a lid on it, and a straw. He takes a sip.

It’s a smoothie.

“I figured this would be better than a real meal,” Izuku explains.

He’s right. It takes a lot less effort, and Katsuki thinks the cold is helping keep him awake, at least a bit. As he drinks, he pillows himself against the armrest on his side, and swings up his legs so they’re on the couch. His knees are bent just enough that he’s not quite touching Izuku.

Izuku opens up some streaming service, and puts on some sort of hero movie that Katsuki can’t really find the strength to actually watch. Instead, his thoughts just trudge through his brain like sludge in a sewer. Like the smoothie through the straw.

As much as it grates on his nerves, the thought of being doted on, the way Izuku has been watching over him today doesn’t feel like that. Maybe it’s because Katsuki’s too tired to really think about it, too tired to be uncomfortable, too aware that he really can’t take care of himself like this. Whatever the reason, Izuku’s attention today feels… fine. Nice, maybe. Warm. For some reason.

Katsuki sets down the now-empty cup onto the floor, lets his eyes drift away from the colorful blur of the screen, to look at Izuku instead.

Izuku’s already looking at him, expression calm and soft and… fond, if Katsuki had to find a word for it. It’s the kind of expression Katsuki usually shies away from, pushing Izuku’s face away and calling him a creep to distract from the way the gentle look in his eyes makes Katsuki's cheeks burn horrifically.

But now, he just sighs at how pleasant it feels to be the one Izuku looks at like that.

Blinking slowly, and licking his lips, and inhibitions lowered, Katsuki feels like it’s the right time to push.

“If you’re gonna keep lookin’ at me like that,” he says on an exhale, eyelashes fluttering with the will to stay awake, “you better do something about it.”

Izuku doesn’t shy away at being caught and called out. What ever happened to the blubbering Izuku of the past? If anything, his smile just twists upwards more, away from the gentleness, and now a little bit smug—excited.

“And how am I looking at you?” He asks.

Katsuki reaches his hand out, lazily. He can’t quite reach him, but Izuku grabs onto that hand (like he always will— strong, and brave, and kind) and lets himself be tugged closer, even though Katsuki can’t manage the energy to actually pull him.

“Like you wanna kiss me,” he answers. His face is close enough now that he can feel Izuku’s breath on his cheek, and see even more of the swirling desire in his eyes.

Izuku is between his legs now, hovering above him. The hand holding his own connects to an arm braced on the side of Katsuki, keeping him from rolling off the couch, and the other on the armrest behind Katsuki’s head. Katsuki feels surrounded in the best possible way—the warmth of Izuku isn’t daunting, or overwhelming, it’s just comfortable.

Katsuki can almost taste it when Izuku whispers, “I do want to kiss you, Kacchan.”

Even though his eyelids want to tug closed, he can’t stop looking at the face above him—the bright eyes, the brown freckles, the pink lips. Izuku is mesmerizing, like this. He wants those lips on his own so badly, and if Izuku’s just waiting for something, a confirmation or whatever else, Katsuki will gladly give it to him.

“Then do it,” he says.

And Izuku does.

Those lips touch his, just the faintest amount, and Katsuki already can’t help the way his eyes flutter closed. They push again, warm—"Kacchan”—just a touch, a peck, and make a small smacking sound as they separate— “Kacchan”—They press again, and again, and it’s so fucking soft and peaceful that it feels kind of insane, feels kind of like he’s drifting away into bliss— “Kacchan”—and Izuku keeps saying his name between kisses like it’s something precious, like he’s holding onto it in his hands and can’t believe it’s really there. Kissing Izuku—being kissed by Izuku-- feels amazing. He swears he’s somewhere else, floating on clouds or something, detached from everything except Izuku, Izuku, Izuku.

Katsuki wants to push harder, feel even more, stay awake longer, but he can’t manage to do much beyond squeeze Izuku’s hand a tiny bit tighter, and tilt his chin just a tiny bit higher.

A shiver runs though him as he feels Izuku huff a warm laugh against his lips. “Kacchan, I think you’re falling asleep.”

He says it so quietly, like if he speaks too loud, he’ll disrupt the peace.

Katsuki would get mad at the words—fight back or deny them or something—but he’s so warm, and Izuku’s lips brushed Katsuki’s with each new syllable, so how could he be mad at that? He tries to open his eyes, but they flutter closed each time he gets barely halfway. He really wants to see Izuku’s lips and face, but his mind won’t cooperate through the pleasant fuzziness.

“No, ‘m not,” he tries, because he wants more of this, of him, even as sleep calls so heavily.

Another soft laugh, another soft kiss on the lips, then his cheek, and then his forehead. Katsuki feels his own exhale bounce back onto his on face. Izuku’s close, still, even as he feels his own hand loosen its grip on him.

Izuku’s lips meet his again, a bit longer this time, and he thinks it’s Izuku who hums into it first, and then Katsuki follows. The vibrations feel very nice.

When it ends because Katsuki can’t keep his head up any longer, Izuku says, “Totally not falling asleep, right.” If Katsuki had the energy, he’d flick him on the forehead for the sassiness. But Izuku isn’t actually mocking him, he knows. A hand runs its way through his hair, and Katsuki falls even deeper, even harder into drowsiness and love. “Do you want me to take you back to your room?”

Katsuki’s sluggish brain takes a second to process the offer. It’d be nice, being in his own room, his own blankets, but the cushions are soft, and Izuku is warm, and he’s so tired, and everything right here is too nice to change. He shakes his head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

He nods, or at least he hopes he does. He wants that so much. He hopes he told Izuku that before his head lolls to the side and he drops into the bliss of deep sleep.

“Sleep well, Kacchan,” Izuku says, but Katsuki already is.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why?

“Sorry, Kacchan. The monitor went off, so I had to wake you up.”

Katsuki groans, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Time s’it?”

Izuku sounds apologetic when he answers, “About three in the morning. Come on, let’s go on a walk to get your heartrate up.”

Logically, he knows it’s a good idea, but physically it sounds like the worst punishment on the fucking planet right now. Ugh.

Katsuki’s miserable as hell…

Izuku helps him up with a hand.

… But at least Izuku’s at his side.

They manage to shuffle out the front doors without too much leaning on Katsuki’s part. Like earlier, the movement helps, and his mind starts to clear just a bit.

But also, there’s just enough of a breeze that helps with that, and also makes a shitty shiver crawl through him. It’s not even that cold. It’s probably the damn slow heart rate, ugh. He feels so pathetic. He can’t even warm himself up with his quirk right now. It’s stupid. He’s so fucking useless like this—

“Want me to go grab a jacket?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki shakes his head.

“I just want this fucking quirk to be over with.”

For some reason, his words break in some parts. For some reason, a horrible burning starts in the corner of his eyes. Why the fuck does it feel like he’s about to cry over being just a little fucking cold? Is this really all that becomes of him when he’s just a little tired?

He refuses to let any tears fall.

They’ve stopped walking. Izuku doesn’t say anything about Katsuki’s crack in his voice, the honesty in it, or his expression as he tries to keep from shattering. Instead, he talks about something else entirely.

“…When I first woke up after the war,” Izuku starts, sounding serious, and Katsuki latches onto it at much as he can, “and realized I couldn’t use my quirk like I used to, I felt really powerless. Maybe useless, too. I didn’t want to talk about it. I still kind of don’t, but if I’m being honest… knowing that I’ve only got embers left, where a whole flame should be, I feel so helpless sometimes.”

Izuku’s eyes look at the scars on his hand, and Katsuki’s vision follows. His heart may be tired, but it hurts, too, for Izuku. He and Izuku are similar in that they don’t always express their feelings, so this feels—important. He has to keep listening. He wants to hear him, and understand.

When Izuku continues, Katsuki feels his stomach drop farther, “And then everyone started coddling me about it, and I shut down, I wanted to pull away until everything fixed itself. I just wanted to be strong again, and for everyone to see me as strong again. And I am strong. And just because others want to help, it doesn’t mean they see me as weak. It’s just hard to see sometimes.”

Izuku takes Katsuki’s mangled hand, the one that doesn’t really work anymore, and kisses the knuckles of it far too gently for someone as rough as Katsuki.

Oh. This isn’t just about Izuku, he realizes.

Izuku makes eyes contact with him, and Katsuki almost tenses as he feels the words to come. He doesn’t want to hear them, but he also desperately does. He needs too.

“You’re strong, too, Kacchan. Even right now. Especially, right now.”

Of course Izuku knows. He understands. Katsuki kind of really fucking loves him.

He reaches up and grabs Izuku’s hair, the part that’s still long enough to flop over his face, and tugs at it even though he already has his attention.

“…Fuck you for saying this when I can’t yell.”

Izuku blushes, fumbling for a minute, “I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation, I swear! I just thought you could use some reassurance, and I really appreciate that you haven’t been pushing me away, because I like to look after you, and I understand what you're feeling, so I know it can—"

“Izuku…” God, this is so fucking important, Katsuki can’t believe his eyes are trying to close again. He uses his faltering grip to bring Izuku’s face closer, and presses clumsy, tired lips to his cheek.

“You… you can tell me those things, too… about how you feel, okay? Whenever.” His head falls onto Izuku’s shoulder, and his hand falls from his hair, and his voice isn’t as loud as he’d like it to be, but he’s right next to Izuku’s ear, so he can definitely still hear him when he adds, “So I can remind you that you’re strong, too.”

Sappy as hell, sure. But it’s all worth it when he feels Izuku breathe a heavy, relieved exhale. Then hands wrap around Katsuki’s back, and Izuku hooks his chin over Katsuki’s shoulder.

Katsuki can just barely hear his honest, “Okay.”

Too show that he understands, too, that he heard what Izuku was trying to explain and gets it, Katsuki needs to say one more thing.

“Stay with me tonight.”

A question, a request, a demand, and everything in between.

He feels Izuku’s smile in his shoulder, and even standing outside like this, Katsuki feels the fog pull him under. Because he knows he can let it. He’s strong enough to decide that, because he knows for a fact that Izuku won’t ever let him fall.

They must get up to Katsuki’s room again, though he’s not sure if he stumbled his way there with support or if Izuku just carried him. He didn’t really care, as long as he had the warmth of his sheets and Izuku all together.

There were a few more times throughout the day where he was lucid enough to drink or eat, and once to stare at Izuku long enough until he understood that he wanted a kiss. Like fuck was he going to say it out loud.

When Izuku finally understood and closed the distance, no sooner did his lips feel the pleasant tingle of pressure than Katsuki’s eyes started closing again, and that floaty feeling came back.

He actually did whine that time, though he’ll deny it later. “Just a few more hours. Then we can kiss for real.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Kacchan. Take your time.”

And then, that afternoon, fina—fucking—ly, he wakes up.

Katsuki wakes up, and feels like he got hit by a motherfucking bus, but also, like he’s actually alive for the first time in two days.

Holy shit! It’s finally over!

“Izuku,” he calls, and his voice is actually loud—normal. Even though it didn’t need to be, as the subject of the call is laying right next to him just scrolling through his phone.

“Yeah?”

Katsuki sits up quickly, just because he can, and throws his legs over Izuku’s lap so he can face him head on.

“You kissed me, right? That wasn’t a dream?”

Izuku sets his phone down and smiles, and Katsuki has to face the fact that maybe he’s always been this sappy, it wasn’t just the quirk, because that smile is so damn warm.

“No, Kacchan, not a dream,” he reaches up to move a strand of Katsuki’s hair behind his ear, “but I’m honored that you thought it could be.”

Smug bastard. Katsuki’s not about to just let that slide.

He huffs, and then decides to get snarky as revenge, “Well, maybe I just forgot all about it.”

Izuku leans up close to him, voice stupidly (attractively) deep and rumbling, “Maybe I’ll just have to do it again, then.”

With his good hand gripping the collar of Izuku’s shirt, Katsuki responds, “You fuckin’ better.”

Katsuki’s elated that this time he actually gets to experience the whole thing. When their lips touch, he can’t help the satisfied hum that passes through them. If feels so nice, and this time Izuku’s lips move instead of pull away for short and sweet, which is also nice, but he’s now doing something long, and syrupy and Katsuki’s feels a fuzz all through his fingertips, starting from his lips and the light pressure where Izuku’s hand touches his jaw, and his breathing slows as he shares breaths with Izuku, and there’s a heaviness to his eyes—

He pulls away, suddenly, and has to blink a few times to get his mind on track, “The fuck?”

“Hmm?” Izuku looks dazed, too, but mostly confused as to why Katsuki’s lips aren’t on his anymore.

Katsuki looks at the monitor on his wrist as it beeps just a few times, noting that his heart rate is over one hundred for the first time in two days, so it’s not slowed down any more. He hates that the gears in his mind apparently aren’t at full capacity, because he starts explaining before he’s really worked it out himself.

“The quirk wore off, but I still feel…”

He won’t say sleepy… tired doesn’t cut it… Staticky? Fuzzy, feels right-ish, but like hell he’ll admit that. Ew. Gross.

Unfortunately, it looks like Izuku’s already figured it out.

He kisses him on the cheek, cocky as hell.

“I think you just really like kissing, Kacchan.”

Katsuki argues immediately, “Shut the fuck up, I am not going to fall asleep every time we do this. The quirk must just be lingering.” It’s a fucking blatant lie, and Izuku knows it, too. His thumb rests just above the pulse point on Katsuki’s neck, so there’s no way he can’t feel the way it races under his touch. And he definitely heard the beeping of the monitor, too.

“Right, of course,” he agrees, just to placate Katsuki. But then his expression changes, and it looks like the one right before he kissed Izuku the night before, with the fondness, like Katsuki’s something… ugh… precious, or whatever. So he knows something mushy is about to be said.

“Hey,” Izuku whispers into his neck as he presses a kiss to the side of it. “Thank you for trusting me to take care of you during this, Kacchan.”

Katsuki knows his face is turning a gross red, so he’s grateful that Izuku’s currently buried in his neck so he can’t see it. But, still. This has been a lot for Izuku, too, and Katsuki wants to give as good as he gets, so he wants to say something, too.

“Uh. Thank you. For…” Everything, all you do, taking care of me, talking to me, being with me, letting me be with you—“… you know. This.”

Katsuki is the best at everything. Except for words, apparently.

He feels the hot puffs of breath as Izuku tries not to laugh at him, and then the other picks his head up, and Katsuki sees the glint in his eyes. He’s about to say something dumb, he just knows it.

With a smirk, Izuku teases, “I think I wouldn’t mind if you let me do ‘this’ ‘for the rest of our lives.’”

Within seconds, his watch starts beeping, and blinks red with text that says: “High heartrate!” His face is on fire, and Izuku’s giggling. Katsuki taps, trying to disable the monitor because— it’s too honest, too fucking honest—but it won’t turn off, so Katsuki growls over the noise of it.

His own words from the hospital thrown back into his face—Izuku’s lucky Katsuki loves him.

(He feels like the lucky one, though.)

Izuku looks like he’s going to say something else before his next fit of laughter, so before he can get any more teasing out, Katsuki covers his mouth with his own.

Izuku seems to melt into it immediately, he hands holding onto Katsuki again with a gentle firmness, but apparently it’s not enough to completely deter him.

“Kacchan,” he laughs against his lips between kisses, and isn’t that the best fucking feeling ever, “we should probably let Recovery Girl know—”

“Shut up,” Katsuki growls, focused on getting that mouth back onto his. “Later.”

And it must sound like a good enough plan to Izuku, because he starts kissing him back, doing that horrible (wonderful) movement with his lips again.

And this time, as the seconds seem to slow, and his body seems to melt, Katsuki lets himself invite the fuzziness in. He lets himself slump when his brain starts turning to mush.

After all, he knows Izuku will catch him, each and every time, for the rest for their lives.