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Katsuki was tired. Not just physically tired- although between work studies and training, he was- but emotionally. Mentally.
He knew how everyone saw him. Always the loudest, the brashest, angriest kid in the class. The one most violent and volatile. As if Katsuki himself was a combustion risk, emotionally. He worked on reigning it in, trying to remember the therapy sessions which helped him realize these are the people he wanted to keep around. But, due to some specifics of his quirk that Izuku had freaked out over recently and some neurodivergence that he had been trying to mask his entire life, anger was the easiest emotion for him to name and understand.
Unlike other emotions, anger was easy to process for him and everything translated easiest to it. It was a familiar feeling, a reliable comfort of the warm weight on his chest. It was easy to resolve. Yelling and screaming helped. Using his quirk did too. His body saw explosions as a form of stimulation, helping to focus that energy somewhere and giving him a way to reset.
Sometimes it required more, the exertion of sparring or exercise. They required his full focus, a way of processing emotions while still using the energy that boiled under his skin. It gave him a chance to do something productive as an escape. And it didnt hurt that he could spend time with the people he was closest to without it feeling like an extra task that drained him.
But lately, nothing worked.
He felt pent up and it left him more short tempered and bored than normal and his classmates noticed. Kirishima cornered him in the gym during their workout a few days before and interrogated him about it. Or tried to while still attempting nonchalance to avoid becoming a target. Izuku questioned him every morning about it far more bluntly and, when that failed, started goading him into further exhaustion during their evening sparring sessions. But Katsuki couldn't answer them, even if he wanted to. He didn't know why he was feeling like this either. Everything he tried failed and it quickly started affecting his sleep. His brain refused to shut down, spiraling in guilt and anxiety, while his body jerked everytime he started to relax and his legs felt like waves of ice ran down the back, making him jerk and twitch involuntarily. He hadn't been fainting, his heart rate remained consistent. He was just unceasingly restless.
But out of everyone, he didn't expect Inko to notice right away. He walked Izuku to the door that weekend, still “trying to make amends” he tried to convince himself but he usually enjoyed and almost craved the time they spent together. Katsuki had been quiet for most of the way home, trying to keep the frustration from dribbling out of his mouth. He couldn't mess this up again. His hands had been sweating and clammy and he kept mindlessly doing his hand stretches that left his fingers sore.
The walk hadn't been silent, however. Izuku went on a rant about a new hero’s debut and merch, mentioned something he had found for Katsuki that he had at home, and detailed a new move Tokoyami had perfected earlier that week. He was messing with a hole in the cuff of his sweater, stretching it and making it worse. Katsuki had to bite his tongue to keep from blowing up about it. The sweater was worn nearly thin and had more than one hole in it anyway. It was definitely… well-loved. It was Izuku’s favorite, after all. But the temperature was starting to drop and the concern Katsuki felt about Izuku taking care of himself just turned into frustration. He was never careful enough with himself, was never as kind to himself as to everyone else. Katsuki knew Izuku would never sit and rest if he got a cold and would end up passing out trying to continue training.
When they arrived, the nerd realized he forgot his keys in his dorm room and knocked on the door instead. Katsuki froze and his stomach dropped. He had been successful in avoiding Auntie Inko until then, having finally and truly apologizing to Izuku only a few months previous. If he were in her shoes, Katsuki knew it wouldn't matter, he would kill the kid who stood in his place. There's no way Izuku could've hidden it from her, either, no matter how confident he was in the assumption. Inko knew. She answered the door and Katsuki prepared for the deep-carving disappointment from one of the only adults that ever cared for him unconditionally.
Unknowing of Katsuki’s internal plight, Izuku ran past his mother on the way inside, kissing her cheek quickly, before speeding off to grab something that he wanted to show Katsuki. Which left the other two in an awkward silence, the first time they had been alone since Katsuki was around eight years old and she watched him for the weekend.
That had been the last sleepover Katsuki had ever had before he decided he was too old. His parents went to a show and Izuku was excited to show him a new comic he had gotten. They stayed up all night and watched old cartoons. Auntie Inko probably had pictures somewhere of them baking cookies and building, then subsequently sleeping in, their blanket fort. He was still an asshole to Izuku then, but more in a selfish way. The bullying hadn't started in earnest quite yet but would soon after, during middle school. Katsuki hadn't been over at all, even for family dinner nights, since.
The memory flashed in Katsuki's mind and he briefly wondered if the inside had changed at all. Pictures hung on the walls being updated as Izuku grew up or the old couch being replaced. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, wanting to apologize, but afraid. The guilt felt suffocating and all consuming, which didn't help the exhaustion-flavored frustration problem or the awkwardness. But this isn't something Katsuki had prepared for. He opened his mouth, ready to fumble his words into a sloppy but hopefully coherent apology while his swallowed pride choked him. Izuku continued to tell him he already had his forgiveness and refused to hear him out any longer about it. The other would cut him off or walk away when he tried.
But he hurt Inko too. The woman had never been anything but kind to him and he had turned around and betrayed that kindness for his own pride and ego. She deserved to know that Katsuki wanted to change and regretted everything he did to hurt them both. He opened his mouth, but Inko cut him off before he could begin.
“Katsuki, it's been a long time since I've seen you.” Her voice was not cold or unkind but it certainly wasn't the tone he remembered from his childhood. A warmed impassivity. Cautious but not uncaring. It made him feel exposed and small. Katsuki dropped his gaze and stared at his shoes. Not many people elicited such a response from him but Inko and his dad always had.
“Yeah… It has.”
He shuffled his feet a little bit and tried to build his nerve back up.
Before he could try again, Inko seemed to take pity on him. Her eyes softened and she lost any small hostility from her posture. “I'm glad you boys are patching things back up.”
It hit him, however unintentionally, and took his breath with it. All he could do was nod and choke out, “Me too.” He kept his sentences short so he didn't slip into the familiarity of calling her ‘Auntie’ again when he hadn't earned it yet, couldn't even choke out an apology.
His eyes threatened to water, the pressure right behind them increasing. His frustration at his own emotional response at something so small. This frustration joined the small mountain is weight that say on his chest and he felt like a bloated bottle, about to burst from pressure pushing at his outsides. Suddenly, his palms sparked like an old fashioned sparkler and quickly broke the silent moment, making him jump and rush to wipe his hands off on his shirt.
A short huff of laughter came from the small woman in front of him and he looked up sharply, not expecting laughter from his quirk in this house ever again. Inko looked at him, softly, with a small smile back on her face- like she was just looking at the kid she used to find asleep and curled around her son and not all the pain he tainted those memories with. “I remember you doing that when you were younger, too. Any strong emotion setting you off before you even knew what it was,” She teased him, gently. “It happened so often around Izuku that it was near constant and I think we still have the spark-proof blankets for the all sleepovers you two used to have. You used to yelp when it startled you, though.”
“Did not!” He did not whine. He retorted calmly, like a reasonable adult. She laughed at him again, more fully that time.
“You did. It was adorable. Like a small yapping dog. Nowadays, you just look tired.” Katsuki felt a pang in his heart at the silent probe of concern. He didnt deserve it yet.
He tried to stay casual and shrugged, “Haven't been sleeping well. Can't seem to calm down.” He mumbled. His heart still hammered against his chest but he could no longer tell what emotion in the spinning mixture was causing it.
Inko hummed, and leaned her head against the door. “Maybe you should come have tea with me next weekend. It's been a while and I know Izuku is going to be visiting your mom for help with new design ideas for his costume.”
He met her gaze again, finally, even if it was only due to confusion. This must be a joke. She couldn’t be genuinely offering. His brow furrowed, “Are you sure?” Are you sure, Auntie? After everything?
“I'm sure, Katsuki. It'll at least give you some peace for a few hours on your day off. I can't imagine you get a lot of it at the dorms.”
Even after all his mistakes, she was still offering him a reprieve. He slowly nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Never. I'll be here.”
Socked feet thundered down the hall and Izuku finally came back around the corner, running fast enough to nearly slip and run into the wall. “Kacchan, I found it, I found it, looklooklook-” he yelled and shoved whatever it was into Katsuki's face, continuing to excitedly ramble an explanation about the new comic in his hands. But Katsuki barely focused enough to push back and grumble at him about personal space, not noticing how his hands lingered on the other’s shoulders, too busy trying to understand what just happened. Inko chuckled at the display as she left the boys in fhe doorway.
The next weekend, he dropped Izuku off with his parents and left his backpack at the end of his bed before heading over.
On the way there, he recited the speech he worked on all week (with critiques from Kirishima, as Katsuki paced and panicked and the other boy sat on his bed and made his way through all of Katsuki's snack stash). His apology, his promise to do better, his plea for a chance to prove it. He almost wrote it down but he wasn't sure he could prevent his sparks from burning it to ash in the middle of it. The exhaustion was still there, weighing his bones down, the emotions he refused to process sat heavy on his chest, in their masks of aggression. The exhaustion took away his patience but was beginning to overshadow the brunt of his anger. He had been caught several times beginning to fall asleep standing up.
Not to mention, his palms had been sparkling near constantly this week. At least Izuku had the gall to tease him for it during sparring. Not near their friends, but just between them. The rest of their classmates kept giving him side glances and a wide berth. His idiot squad didn't tread as lightly as the others but they kept asking if he was feeling okay, pressuring him to let them help where they could. Their concern only made him more frustrated. Katsuki knows he should feel loved, but he isn't supposed to be the one worrying everyone. He's a hero, he's supposed to be saving them.
Far too soon he arrived at the door of the Midoriya household. It wasn't a long was from his folks, just on the other side of the park, but he had been hoping for a little more time. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to find any excuse he could to avoid being met with anger and disappointment. He wiped his palms off on his jeans, trying to keep his hands from exploding and finding comfort in the feeling of the fabric against his skin, took a deep breath, metaphorically dug his heels in to following through with his plan, and knocked on the door. The seconds following dragged on and he gathered all his stubbornness to drown out the itch of anxiety under his skin.
“There you are. I was wondering. Come on in, Katsuki.” Inko let him inside and herded him to the table. She sat at the table with him, making his tea the same way she always did when they were kids. The memories flooded his vision and the guilt stabbed his gut again, remorse tasting like an echo of decomposition on the back of his tongue.
“I- I would like to say something.” He tried to begin. He took a deep breath and began to grasp uselessly at the words he had practiced. He never understood the description of nervousness making the person's tongue feel too big. It more made the words catch in his throat and that sparked the anxiety to morph into frustration which aged like wine into anger if he let it.
“Katsuki,” Inko called, “it's okay.”
“No it's not!” He choked out. The pressure was back and he was begging his body not to cry or blow up. Closing his eyes as tight as possible, he wiped his palms on his pants again, feeling his jeans’ folds and texture as he rubbed his hands back and forth along his thighs with enough pressure to feel something on his skin. Like he was trying to scratch the itch of anxiety under his skin and couldn't reach. He took another deep breath and tried letting it out slowly before he stumbled out of the chair and fell to the floor on his knees and looked up again.
“I am- I am so so fucking sorry.” He continued his rubbing to hold back his desire to sob openly, the pressure and pace increasing. “I took the kindness you and De- Izuku had always given so freely and I hurt you both over and over and I am so sorry. I was an entitled brat at best and neither of you deserved it and I'm going to do better, I promise. If you give me another chance, I'll do whatever I can to show you both. I want to change, I want to prove it. Please, pl-please, Auntie. I want to do better. I want to be better.” His heart was going so fast in his… something. An emotion too deeply knotted to untangle and name.
“Oh, Kats.” Inko whispered. Her eyes got misty as she prepared to start crying the Midoriya Tears™️. “Katsuki, honey.” She waved for him to get back into the seat. His legs shook as he staggered back into the chair and she walked around to sit on his side of the table. Their knees almost knocked together as she leaned forward to stop his hands from being rubbed raw, keeping his palms upright as she cradled them.
“Katsuki, I cannot tell you that all is forgotten. But I haven't seen either of you as happy as I have since you decided to patch things up. I can never forget what happened, but I am proud of you. You've grown up so much in the last year. You have changed and I am so proud of you.”
His chest had a weight lifted, even just barely. And the pressure behind his eyes increased. He continued to sob, knowing he didn't deserve the comfort she offered or the pride she expresssd. Eventually his tears slowed and they finally turned back to their cups and began to drink the tea that had long gone cold.
She asked about his studies, his friends. Interrogated him about crushes and laughed at his red face and inability to meet her eye when clumsily deflecting. Finally, she asked about why he wasn't sleeping well. Her real goal from the beginning.
“Same reason my quirk keeps going off, I guess.” He tried to explain without reopening himself to vulnerability again so soon. The blood hadn't even began to clot over the last wound.
But Auntie had always understood. She was best friends with his mom for years, far longer than he had been alive. She knew how hard it was for them to balance their emotions with the side effects of their quirks, not to mention the undiagnosed neurodivergency.
Inko hummed. “Do you remember how we helped get you to stop your sparks when you were little?” He tried thinking back for a moment but his brain only offered memories of mean nicknames and mocking, disingenuous laughter. He shook his head. “I wonder if it would still work… do you think you'd be willing to try?”
“Please.” He nearly begged.
They moved to the couch and Inko sat him down before disappearing for a few moments. Katsuki was still in the quiet stun that the emotional talk had shoved him into. He tried to keep his eyes down, not wanting to allow himself the soothing balm of reminiscing over memories or looking at the photos on the wall.
Inko came back with a wicker basket she balanced on her hip before sitting it down on the floor between them. “I haven't had the time to do much with this stuff in a while, but I think this is worthy enough to pull it out of the closet.”
The basket was over full with balls of yarn, varying size balls and colors and thicknesses and textures. Katsuki unearthed vague memories of making crochet chains with his fingers, competing with Izuku to who could make the longest. “Auntie,” he pleaded, “I don't remember how.”
Inko smiled at him, with the same tone he remembered from scabbed knees and burned palms, “That's okay. That's why I'm going to teach you.”
And that's how it started.
It was frustrating, starting at the beginning of a skill again. Inko retaught him the basics, going further than she was able to when they were kids. He ended up being awful at his chains and relearning how to keep tension. At the end, she pulled out a few old books of blanket patterns to start and told him to choose a yarn and a pattern.
After a long while off deliberation, Katsuki chose a soft yarn that just so happened to be a dark green along with a pattern labeled for beginners called a Square Moss blanket. She helped him practice a swatch, gave him advice on how to keep count, packed a small bag with a couple hooks of different sizes to find the right tension, an extra ball of yarn that matched the one he chose, a page with a copy of the pattern written in Katsuki's neat handwriting, and a handful of colorful plastic stitch markers.
Katsuki took the time, before bed as he tried to relax, to work on the blanket. As it turns out, crocheting gave him something to calm his brain. It was nice to have something to focus on and it helped that his effort was something physical to see. An object he could make with the hands he had come to believe were only good to destroy. He slept well that night. By the end of the first week, he already needed more yarn. Inko showed him to the craft store when they saw each other again that weekend.
And it continued like that. Every weekend, Katsuki joined Inko for a few hours of crochet. They updated each other on projects and talked about everything. Mostly gossip, honestly. Catching up on the latest shenanigans from his classmates or the drama from the neighborhood. It reminded Katsuki of the “girls”' night with Mina. Sometimes, they had talks that cut deep and left Katsuki feeling flayed open like a fish.
Katsuki asked her not to tell Izuku and ignored Inko’s curious gaze even as she agreed. He tried to keep it from the extras. He liked his alone time, curled up in his bed and listening to podcasts while he let his hands work. The constantly knotted ball in his chest had started to loosen, and even Hound Dog had noticed in their sessions. He asked if Katsuki would be open to showing him any projects. Katsuki, in a rare shyness, quietly refused. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone to see yet, and the more he took his blanket out of his dorm room and not straight to the Midoriya or Bakugou households, the chance someone saw increased. Hound Dog accepted it but left the offer open if Katsuki ever changed his mind.
Despite his best efforts, he could only keep it from his idiots for so long. They found out due to an impromptu study session after being reminded of a test the next day. They had begged for his help and no amount of scolding for not studying already saved him. Katsuki had forgotten to put his craft stuff away before leaving for class and didn't have time to hide it before the group pushed past him and into the room.
He felt the familiar clawing of anxiety in his throat. The ‘Bakusquad’ as they had taken to calling themselves (much to his chagrin) noticed the blanket that was only half way finished on his bed, yarn leading over the side to the old popcorn tin he secretly borrowed to keep his yarn ball from rolling away or under his bed.
Katsuki finally unfroze, rushing forward to prevent Kaminari from touching it and pushed the blanket, crumpled, into the tin and shoved it under his bed. His frie- idiots looked at him strangely.
“Bakubro? Are you okay? What was that?” Kirishima asked, trying to keep his voice soft and unteasing.
“Nothing. Don't fucking worry about it.” Katsuki didn't look them in the eye as he started to pull his books and papers from his bag. His heart rate increased with his anxiety and his stupid watch went off with a notification of the random spike. He knew he needed to calm down before his quirk acted up.
The group looked at each other and agreed to drop it for the moment, gathering in a vague circle around the room and pulling out their stuff. “Can you help me with calculus again, then?” Kirishima pleaded. And Katsuki let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and wiped his hands on his jeans, catching himself before he could start running his palms raw on his jeans.
So for a couple of hours, they left it. Even though he could tell they wanted to know, routinely eyeing the tin behind his feet. They waited until he was comfortable and calmed down (or as calm as Katsuki could be in the presence of people that weren't his parents or the Midoriyas). When he had finally gotten them to finish their homework, mostly trying to get them to understand what they were working on in class, he took a deep breath. “I can tell you fuckers want to know. Just… fuck, give me a minute.” He tried to slow his heart again, feeling it building in his chest.
“Babe, you don't have to show us anything if you don't want to.” Mina assured him.
“Let's just fucking get it over with.” Rip it off like a band-aid, he thought.
He remembered the reason he turned into such a shithead when he was a kid was the teasing of the other kids. He stopped making yarn chains with Izuku because it was ‘girly’ to crochet and Izuku was quirkless, they mocked him asking who was the wife if he's doing all the girly things for the useless Deku. It made him ashamed. He ended up pushing Izuku away over more than just yarn chains, beginning to join in on the taunts and bullying, lying to himself that he was protecting them both.
Katsuki leaned over the bed and slid the tin out. Mina squealed when she saw the blanket. Kirishima and Sero were a little more confused but Kaminari recognized the utensils. Katsuki pulled the fabric out, making sure he didn't lose his place by putting a stitch marker in the loop the hook had slipped out of. The hook fell back into the tin, making a small noise. Katsuki flattened the material over his lap and kept his eyes down.
Mina moved forward first, since she was the closest, sitting towards the end of his bed. “Holy shit! Can I touch it?” She asked eagerly. The bed bounced slightly under her excited wiggling. Katsuki just nodded, and the group wasn't sure if they had ever seen him this nervous. Mina ran her palms along the finished portion and rubbed a corner between her fingers. The others came forward on that note, each of them touching it at least a little.
“I didn't know you crocheted,” Kaminari commented.
“Auntie thought getting back into it might help,” Katsuki mumbled.
“Auntie?” Kirishima prodded. Katsuki looked a little flustered and replied so quietly they didn't even catch it. “What was that?”
“Izuku's mom. She and the hag were super fucking close since before we were born and taught us when we were younger.” He still refused to look any of them in the eyes.
“That's so cute! And you and Midoriya starting back up again?” Mina squealed and Katsuki's ears burned.
“The fucking nerd doesn't know and he isnt going to.” Katsuki snapped, finally looking up. The group shared a look and nodded.
“What are you making?” Sero spoke up, entranced by how soft the fabric was.
“We thought a stupid fucking blanket might be an easy starting point,” He said, “But I've unraveled the damn thing so many times that it doesn't feel like there's a fucking point anymore.”
“No! You have to finish it!” Kaminari pushed, “it looks so good, especially if this is your first project since you were a kid.”
“Yeah dude! Even if you unravel it, you're still making progress!” Kirishima used his shoulder to nudge at Katsuki's knee.
“My gran tried teaching me to knit when I was a kid and I was so bad, I ended up dissolving my first few swatches because of how embarrassing they were.” Mina told them.
“I had to stop any fiber craft I would do with my grandma when my quirk manifested,” Kaminari sheepishly admitted.
They spent the rest of the time talking about it and giving small praises and encouragement. Katsuki felt a warmth unfold in his chest and ended up kicking them out soon after. He knew his idiots weren't as cruel as little kids could be, but he didn't expect them to be so… happy? Excited? Proud? He didn't know how to process these emotions in front of most other people. He could barely name the different cords woven into this feeling.
They knew he had trouble finding the words he wanted to say, covering it with swears and insults that he didn't mean. They knew he had trouble with his emotions, not knowing exactly what it was but watching his responses and reactions for a year and a half now. Katsuki had told them during one late night, when he was so burnt out that he forgot to filter himself, that he didn't want to be angry all the time and there was something due to his quirk that messed with his heart rate, and thus his emotions. When they* (*read: Kirishima) had asked about it, even with as gentle as he had been, Katsuki came back to his senses and blew up at them, storming away with the response that he was going to take a nap.
But Katsuki didn't expect encouragement and he didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't sure he deserved the friends he had or how they stuck around. But according to the Midoriyas, it wasn't his choice to decide if he deserved someone's kindness.
He spent the rest of the night working on the blanket with an audiobook playing on the small speaker next to him.
The blanket did take forever. He tried to stop unraveling it for every little mistake but he messed up the count at one point and didn't notice for several rows and undid nearly half of it so he could fix it.
But he finished it. Eventually. It wasn't even very big and the pattern wasn't very difficult, so he was a little frustrated it took so long. His friends and Hound Dog congratulated him, but Auntie's pride in him meant more than anything.
He chooses another pattern. A pair of cute paw print gloves that he’s tempted to give Aizawa.
He finished that project much more quickly, in a matter of days, since he needed to pace himself. For the last few days of the week, he trained extra before bed without anything else to do. Anything that lessened the growing feeling of restlessness that felt like ice under his skin.
He left the gloves on Aizawa’s desk on Friday, getting a promise from the idiots and Hound Dog that no one would mention it to Aizawa that they were from him. Katsuki had a sneaky suspicion that he knew, however.
His next pattern, he wanted to try something harder. He decided he wanted to do a sweater. One of those pullovers that are so stereotypical for mid October to November. He went to the craft store with Auntie one weekend since he saw a nice black wool yarn last time they had gone and he knew it was perfect. The store had a handful of colors for the wool yarn and a dark burnt orange that was more red than yellow caught his eye. He grabbed a dark gray to help alleviate the Halloween vibe and Inko laughed as he grabbed several skeins of each.
They ended up looking online and searching through a ton of different patterns, but they did find a good pattern to print out for him and debated over the color work. The day he started, she asked him if she was giving it to anyone. Without putting much thought into it, he replied, “‘Zuku had been complaining about his old one having holes since he's had it so long.”
Inko gasped, knowing that look on Katsuki. She giggled at him, when he looked at her confused. “Are you really trying to get rid of him already?” She teased gently but his face paled while his watch went off.
“What do you mean?”
“Aren't you worried about the sweater curse?” That helped pull him from his panicked spiral and sent him down another one. When he still didn't understand, she told him to look it up later, but she was just teasing.
“If anything, I think giving him a handmade sweater is going to ensure he will never leave your side. I know my baby well and you and him have always revolved around each other like stars orbiting each other.”
Katsuki blushed at her assurance before noticing the time and swearing. “Sorry, Auntie, I gotta head out. Izuku said he was getting ready to head back to the dorms around now and I was going to walk with him.” She pulled him into a quick hug, like always, after he packed up everything. He waved at her from the ground before running through the park.
Katsuki tried to focus on counting but Auntie's teasing voice echoed through his head. Finally he gave up for a few minutes to look at what she was talking about and then he stared at the ceiling for a while.
The sweater curse is a superstition among knitters and crocheters that believes that knitting (or crocheting) a sweater as a gift for their significant other curses that the relationship will end soon, either during or after finishing the sweater.
Significant other. Boyfriend. Spouse. Partner.
Everything he found said the same thing. He had barely admitted to himself the extent of his feelings for the dumb nerd, so how the hell did Auntie know? His heart rate increased and his watch went off but he ignored it to continue staring blankly at his ceiling. Auntie thought that he and Izuku were dating.
Romantically.
And Katsuki was conflicted. He could finally recognize that he was in love with Izuku, irrevocably and wholly consumed. Things that never seemed interesting became interesting with him. Things he normally hated from others he craved from Izuku.
But that was something he could never have. Izuku didn't love him like that. He needed to correct Auntie's assumption the next time he saw her. But why was that something that she believed was reciprocated? She must've been joking.
Right?
She hadn't been joking. The next weekend, Katsuki asked her about it. She looked at him confused. “You two aren't dating?”
“No, Auntie.”
“But you want to be, don't you?” She pressed.
Katsuki averted his gaze and felt his cheeks redden. “It doesn't matter what I want, Auntie. We are only barely able to be called friends again. I can't lose him.”
“I told you last week but if you think he is ever going to leave you, you are delusional.” She said bluntly.
“Please don't tell him.” He pleaded quietly.
“Will you?” She asked. She sighed at his silence and his continued avoidance to meet her eyes. “I won't tell him. I won't, but you should.”
She got up to make them some more tea and ruffled his hair as she walked by. He huffed a laugh and batted her hand away.
That day when he left, she told him to seriously think about what she said. He talked to Kirishima about it when he got back to the dorms, who was also confused, “What do you mean you two aren't dating?”
“Fucking hell! You too?” Katsuki was on his way to pacing a hole into the floor. “No, we aren't dating. Why does everyone think that?”
“You only ever let him cuddle with you or hug you or any affection really. You make sure he eats every day. You guys are almost always together. He was able to hang out in your room before anyone else was. You two go on dates every weekend. And you both know everything about each other. And that's just the broad strokes. I'm sure Mina has a list somewhere. I could ask if you really want it?”
“No! Fuck! Most of that is stuff we always did as kids. Nerd doesn't remember to eat and I literally make everyone dinner most nights. And we don't go on dates! We take the train to our old neighborhood,” Katsuki countered as best as he could.
“You leave together and I know you get drinks or food on the way together. Both there and back. And you do more than just make him dinner, you almost bang his door down if you find out he skipped lunch.” Kirishima looked at him like he was an idiot.
Katsuki didn't have a retort to that. His watch went off as he processed his understanding. Eventually he spoke back up, “You don't think he thinks we're dating, do you?”
“If you two haven't talked about it previously, I don't know. Maybe you should ask him?” His friend gently suggested.
Katsuki shook his head slightly, “Not yet.” He didn't want to admit the idea that there was even a small chance the sweater curse existed frightened him. He thought that maybe he could circumvent the possibility if he finished the sweater first.
Over the next few weekends, Auntie teased him about the color scheme and resemblance to his costume. She interrogated him as soon as he walked through the door the next week about whether he had talked to Izuku yet.
Katsuki shook his head and explained his reasoning. She just laughed at him and said it would be like a very old fashioned courting. They had texted back and forth occasionally over the time since they started their regular crochet days, but with this new idea Inko asked him to update her every day or two on his progress with the sweater. She wanted to watch him putting together the gift for her son.
He kept her updated, sending her pictures every few nights before putting it away and complaining anytime he had to unravel it. Both her and his idiots (who Kirishima had told everything to) told him to stop worrying about the small mistakes but he couldn't. This wasn't something like his blanket where he was going to be the main person to use it and the only one to notice the mistakes.
This was going to be something he gave his nerd, who was known for his observation skills, as a way to convince him to give Katsuki a chance as a boyfriend despite all of their history together. It had to be perfect.
It took longer than he wanted. A few weeks, almost three. He finished it Wednesday night and spent most of Thursday trying to convince Izuku that they should stay at the dorms that weekend. It took nearly the entire day but he finally convinced the other boy. He had to bribe him by telling him he would do a few things he was already planning as part of the confession, a movie night and dinner, but he did it.
After class got out on Friday, Katsuki ran back to get his dorm ready. Mina and Kaminari especially helped him put together a plan for the movie night while Kirishima and Sero helped pump him up and prepare a speech. Mina had gotten him a ton of fairy lights which he strung above his bed to create a soft glow, Sero had convinced him to get some drinks and popcorn which were on his nightstand, he had his new blanket pulled out so they could huddle together on his bed while watching a movie, and he had the sweater hidden in his popcorn tin under his bed. He took a picture to get approval from Auntie and the idiots’ group chat, both threads filled with praise and wishes for good luck.
With the approval, his room was finally ready. He quickly changed and ran downstairs to start cooking. Most of his classmates were out, either at home or off campus for dinner. As he was cutting the vegetables, Izuku met him in the kitchen. He was banned from cooking, but was the only one Katsuki let sit on the counter while cooking.
Dinner didn't take long. He made katsudon just to see the look on Izuku's face. He snorted at the dork and motioned for them to get to the table. He didn't want to surprise Izuku while they had food in their hands and he didn't want food in his bed.
Thankfully, none of their classmates came home or into the common areas while they ate. Izuku was excitedly describing his observations of a recent villain fight with Katsuki paying close attention, throwing in comments here or there, and reminding him to eat every few minutes by tapping on the edge of Izuku's plate.
When the food was gone and dishes were washed, they made their way upstairs. Izuku had gotten comfortable enough within the last few weeks to start dragging him around by holding his hand again, like they did when they were little, and refused to hear anything of Katsuki's worries that his hands could get sweaty and go off, especially with them sparking on accident recently. There was no stopping him.
Izuku pulled him down the hallway, but thankfully stepped aside for Katsuki to unlock the door. Katsuki stepped inside the room quickly and watched the wonder sparkle in the other’s eyes. Izuku looked like he was near tears and Katsuki couldn't have him crying just yet.
With a small prompt, Izuku climbed on the bed. He was captivated by the blanket. “Did you get a new blanket, Kacchan? I don't remember every seeing this one before.”
“Stalker,” Katsuki teased, “and yeah it's relatively new.” He subtly wiped his palms on his jeans.
“Where did you get it? It's so soft!” Katsuki's watch went off again. The nerd’s praise had always made his heart race. At his silence, Izuku looked back up at him curiously.
Katsuki looked into bright green eyes and was hard pressed to remember the speech he worked so hard on. “Izu… I… fuck, there's something I wanted to give you.” He supposed jumping in immediately might at least alleviate the pressure of the night. Izuku perked up even further and Katsuki got on his knees on the floor in front of where the other was perched on the edge of the bed.
He pushed Izuku's feet gently to the side to pull out the popcorn tin. Izuku pulled his legs up onto the bed to sit on his knees and lean over the edge to look at what Katsuki grabbed.
Pulling the folded fabric out of the tin, Katsuki decided to try remembering what he could of what he wanted to say. “I, uh, I noticed your old sweater beginning to get shitty and getting holes, so I made this for you. It's going to be fucking big but I really fucking hope you like it. I wanted to tell you… I want to tell you how much you mean to me. I think you're fucking stupid giving me another chance, but I'm glad you're a little bit of a dumbass,” he grinned at the squawk of offense before continuing, “I know I fucking hate dealing with shitty emotions, but you deserve to hear it. I love you so much, Izuku. I've been in love with you for a long ass time but for so long I couldn't figure it out. I am so gone for you, people assumed we were already together. And no matter how you respond, I want to finish tonight and I don't want this to change the relationship we've worked to rebuild. But I needed you to know. I love you and I want to prove that if you'll let me, I'll be the best fucking boyfriend ever. Would you let me prove it?”
He looked up and saw the Midoriya Tears™️ building. Before he knew it, Izuku's hand shot out and pulled him close by his collar, kissing Katsuki hard. Katsuki leaned in further, deepening the kiss for a few moments before breaking it for them both to catch their breath.
“You idiot,” Izuku said and his small laugh fanned Katsuki's lips, “of course I'll be your boyfriend. I've been in love with since we were four.”
The blond looked at him in shock. “For that long? Even when-”
“Even then.”
Katsuki leaned up to kiss him back even harder and his knees bumped against the tin, making a soft metallic noise.
Izuku pushed him back a little after a moment and wiped his face. His eyes caught on the gift again and he sniffled while making grabby hands at it. “Let me see my present.”
Katsuki shifted nervously again as he handed the other boy the sweater. He was right, it was way too big, but the squeal Izuku let out before immediately putting it on showed he definitely didn't mind.
“Did you make this?” He asked, excitedly. Katsuki nodded and he felt his blush warming his ears. “It's your hero colors! Kacchan, I love it! Wait, did you make the blanket, too?”
“Yeah,” he finally coughed out, entranced by how Izuku looked haloed in gold light and happily swimming in his colors. “It was my first project. I made some cat gloves for Aizawa, too, but don't tell him it was me.”
Izuku laughed and Katsuki was pretty sure that that's what an angel looked like. The other boy finally pulled him into the bed, latching onto his side to cuddle under the blanket, and they finally played the queued All Might movie.
Before starting the second one, Katsuki suddenly remembered he needed to text the others. He pulled the other boy close to him and grabbed his phone. He took a picture of the two of them, sending it quickly to Inko and the group chat. Izuku wasn't subtle about his eavesdropping and Katsuki didn't care, until he froze suddenly.
“Kacchan, why are you texting my mom?”