Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku’s about to lose it.

He’s pretty sure he’s checked his phone for The Email at least three times in the last thirty seconds and his friends are starting to give him worried looks.

The thing is… Izuku took a DNA test—one of those kits you mail in—and the results are supposed to come back today.

He knows the main draw of these things is supposed to be finding lost family members or learning about your family’s quirk history, but he’s more interested in—well, actually, that quirk stuff would be pretty fascinating, especially if his own quirk were actually genetic, and that’s kind of his cover story, but all he really wants is confirmation.

As of now, he’s floating along being forced to assume he either doesn’t have a soulbond or he’s the world’s latest bloomer. And he’s kind of sick of it. He’s been through this whole thing with his quirk before, and as painful as hearing his results were all those years ago, he’s glad the test was done. There’s something that’s somehow… comforting in the concrete knowledge that you’re different and there’s a real reason behind it.

Ever since he was little, he and his mother waited for his soulbond to show up. They started out like everyone else does, assuming it’d be genetic. Except, unlike his father, he could see the full color spectrum, so all colorblindness variations were off the table. And he didn’t have any sort of first words mark from birth like his mother. So they branched out, and went on like that until they’d ruled out pretty much every soulbond ever documented in more than one case (shared physical and/or emotional sensations/phenomena; any sort of string of fate; a countdown clock to your meeting; body swaps, annual or otherwise; matching marks; marks that would color in when touched for the first time; etc.), and his mother had practically given up by the time he’d hit middle school. Not Izuku, though.

He tried everything, from writing messages on his skin, hoping they’d be visible to his soulmate, to, after reading about a case where one soulmate’s tears manifested as flower marks on the other’s body, crying non-stop in an attempt to get some sort of rise out of the person on the other end of his bond.

(To be fair, that one wasn’t much of a stretch for him. Honestly, it’s probably a good thing that didn’t work. Izuku’s soulmate would be completely unhireable all tatted up like that.)

None of it worked. In the beginning, Izuku’s obsession was rooted in his hopeless romantic streak. He loved love, loved the idea of being destined to be with someone, romantically or platonically. That there was someone out there made for him, just as he was made for them.

But as the years wore on, it became something darker. A desperation. There was no way he was quirkless and missing a soulbond. Right? That’s like winning the lottery twice, but in the wrong direction. Almost no one is missing a soulbond, even if most people never actually find their soulmates. The only other person he’s ever met in real life without a soulbond is, well, Kacchan. (Yet another reason he figured he had to have one. Like, what are the odds of two kids in the same neighborhood with missing soulbonds? Very low. Izuku’s done the math.)

He knows that soulmates are kind of archaic at this point, and most people don’t take much stock in them, but come on, universe. Throw Izuku a bone here.

All this to say, Izuku needs these results. Just as Ochaco is opening her mouth to point out his fifth phone check in fifty seconds, he hears a ding!

Finally.

Izuku leaps from his chair, startling Ochaco, Tenya, and Shoto where they’re studying. “I’ve gotta go, sorry, see you guys!” he rushes, already on his way to his dorm room. On the way, he bumps into someone, and it must be Kacchan because he hears a Watch it, nerd! behind him. No time to stop and explain, though.

…He might get beat up for that when they spar later. Eh, he’ll give Kacchan a run for his money. He always does.

Safely in his room, Izuku rushes to his bed, not stopping to turn on the light, and opens The Email maybe as fast as he’s ever done something non-life-or-death.

Hello, Izuku Midoriya! Thank you for—

Blah, blah, blah, get to the good part, please!

Click here to see an in-depth breakdown of your results!

Izuku’s a little surprised his phone doesn’t crack from the force of his tap. At the top of the screen, he’s presented with four tabs: Medical, Family, Quirk, and Soulbond. This is it. Izuku takes a few deep breaths. A few more. And clicks.

Soulbond type: Colorblindness (Almost Total)

Colorblindness soulbonds typically manifest as a lack of one color until soulmates meet, usually the color of your soulmate’s eyes (one-color). Sometimes, however, this is reversed, and soulmates see no colors but their bond partner’s eye color (almost total). In very rare cases, there has even been documentation of complete—

Izuku doesn’t have it in him to keep reading. That… that was the first thing they ruled out. It can’t be colorblindness, especially not an almost total bond. That’s impossible. That means he’s already met his soulmate.

Wait. Could it be—

No. No, Kacchan doesn’t have a soulbond, and Izuku is just being silly. It’s a nice little fantasy, but that’s ridiculous. He’s sure whatever the odds are of two neighborhood kids being soulmates are probably half the odds of two neighborhood kids both being bondless. Or less! Plus, Izuku wouldn’t even want Kacchan as a soulmate. That’s a change. And neither of them are particularly good with change. Their relationship isn’t good with change. And being bonded would just break everything they just fixed. It’s a ridiculous thought. Which is why Izuku is going to stop having it now.

There’s only one way he can think of to get to the bottom of this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Izuku! It’s so good to hear your voice. How is school going? You know I don’t hear from you as much as I’d like, and—”

“Mom, I have a soulbond.”

Silence for a beat. Another. Then:

“...What?”

Izuku swallows. “Yeah. I got that DNA test back. I have an almost total colorblindness bond.”

“Oh. Oh! Sweetie, this is… great news, but… how?” Mom sounds about as shell shocked as Izuku has ever heard her.

“That’s what I don’t know. The only thing I can think of is that I met them before I could talk. That’s the only way I can imagine us missing me suddenly seeing almost every color all at once. But who could that be?”

“Well, you started talking pretty early, honey, I’m not—” She cuts off. Then, for the millionth time, she says, quiet, “Oh. Sweetie, you met Katsuki when you were both just tiny little things. Mitsuki and I took both of you to a park to visit, and…” She pauses again. Her voice is a little shaky, sort of far-off and dreamy, like she’s putting the pieces together as she speaks. “As soon as you saw each other, you both burst into tears. I only remember because Mitsuki and I were so confused. It took so long for both of you to calm down, but after that… Little Katsuki wouldn’t stop picking at the grass and you… You fell in love with this ladybug you found. Green and red. Oh, baby…”

Izuku thinks she might keep talking after that, but his head is full of glue. Green and red. Of course. Of course. He’s an idiot! Of course, if Izuku got his colors that early from Kacchan, Kacchan would get his from Izuku. And they would both think they didn’t have a bond. And everything Izuku spiraled about earlier still stands. This is going to wreck everything. He could try to play it off as a totally platonic thing. He and Kacchan are best friends now. Platonic bonds are real. Common, even!

…Who is he kidding, he’s never been a good liar. He’s been holding back these… feelings because he knows Kacchan doesn’t want a partner, let alone a soulmate. He thinks Izuku’s obsession is stupid. He’s always said his soulmate is hero work. Izuku and Kacchan built all this back up and for what? To be forced together by the universe? After they spent so many years choosing each other again and again? What if none of that was them? What if none of that was free will? What if—

“Izuku! Sweetheart! Are you alright?”

Izuku suddenly realizes he’s been hyperventilating into his phone. He touches his cheeks and his fingers come back wet. Hurriedly, we wipes his face with the All Might blanket pooled around him. It doesn’t do anything to stop the onslaught of tears.

“Mom, it’s h-him. Of course it’s—” he manages to get out before devolving into hiccupping sobs.

Mom’s voice is quieter now, more even and steady. “I know. I know. It’s alright, Izuku.” She keeps on like that for a while, a firm sort of calmness in her voice that makes it feel like Izuku is really there in her arms, like he’s just a little quirkless boy again, watching All Might videos until his eyes burn. He’s talked to her about Kacchan before. Not—not the whole picture and certainly not some of his semi-recent-but-realistically-probably-there-the-whole-time feelings, but Izuku talks about him a lot. He wouldn’t have ever noticed if his mother hadn’t pointed it out and gently teased him about it. But thinking back on it, she probably does have the whole picture. Especially with the way she’s comforting him right now. Izuku would freak out about being so transparent, but he can only panic about so many things at once.

Once his tears dry, he says goodbye to his mother (a several-step process involving a status update on all his friends and classes) and hangs up the phone. He falls flat on his back and stares up at the dark ceiling.

He stares and stares and thinks and stares until—

Banging. “Hey! Nerd! You in there?”

Oh crap.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The sparring session! He was supposed to spar with Kacchan tonight, and judging by the aforementioned dark ceiling, it’s tonight. Crap. Crap crap crap. What is he gonna do? Izuku can’t see Kacchan right now, not like this! He looks awful. Not that Kacchan has never seen him look awful before, they’ve seen each other almost dead and then some, but if Kacchan sees Izuku like this? Hair wild, eyes red, sitting alone in a dark room? He’s going to have some questions. And if Kacchan is one thing, he is persistent.

Case in point: the continued banging on the door. After about ten more seconds of silent panic, Izuku hears “Alright, I’m coming in and if you’re naked, it’s your fault.” followed by the sound of a doorknob turning.

Kacchan blinks into the darkness for a moment before flipping on the light switch. “The hell you doing in here in the dark, alone, Deku—?”

Izuku can see the exact moment Kacchan catches that he’s been crying. He can see it, see the almost-imperceptible,  because he can read Kacchan. Because of the softening in his eyes and the fight leaving his soldiers and the concerned downturn of his lips and the million other things that make this situation impossible.

“Hey,” Kacchan says, stepping into the room and closing the door. “What is it? You have a nightmare?”

And because Izuku’s a crybaby and he’s been high-strung all week about these test results and Kacchan’s being so sweet and he’s being forced to deal with this so fast, those eight words are all it takes for him to burst into tears again.

“Woah, breathe, nerd. It’s alright. I’m here.” Kacchan sits on the bed, takes Izuku’s hand, and places it where he can feel his heartbeat. If he really was post-nightmare, Izuku would wrap his arms around Kacchan’s body, press his head into his chest, and never let go, but as things stand now, Izuku rips his hand away like the contact burns. Probably because it does, even if it’s just his imagination.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku sobs, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them. “I’m sorry, I r-ruined everything.”

Kacchan seems slightly bewildered by this turn of events, but he’s been being bewildered by Izuku for years. He scoots a little further away and takes it in stride, because he’s amazing like that. “Again, breathe . I can’t even understand you through all that gross.”

Izuku’s really not sure he would be able to stop if he hadn’t cried out half his moisture earlier, but he did, so he manages to pull himself together—or at least stop making wounded animal sounds every time he takes a breath—in record time. (Record time being a pretty low bar for Izuku Midoriya.)

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, mumbling into his knees. He can’t bear to see Kacchan when he breaks this news. “I ruined everything.”

This earns him a quiet scoff. “What is it this time? Some kitten you pull out of a tree get a scratch and now the world’s gonna burn?”

“No, not—not everything everything.” As someone who’s done most of the heavy lifting to save the world before, this is an important clarification for Izuku to make. “Just… my everything.”

A second too late he realizes that if this conversation ends with Izuku ruining their relationship, it now also ends with Izuku admitting that their relationship is his everything . Ugh, of course he had to run his mouth and make things worse. As per usual. Izuku groans and curls further into himself.

“Okay,” Kacchan says, sounding more serious now. “You get into a fight with Round Face or some—”

“Can I get through this? Please,” Izuku begs. “Because you’re not gonna guess and it’s something you really need to hear even if I don’t want you to hear it and if I don’t do this right here and right now I’m going to lose my mind—”

Kacchan cuts him off this time. “Alright, Izuku. Say what you gotta say.”

Just what he needed right now. More unprompted grace and understanding from the guy whose life he’s about to upend. Izuku takes a big breath. He’s used to getting a lot of words out at once; this should be a piece of cake.

“My DNA test results came back and it said we’re soulmates. Well it didn’t say we’re soulmates, but it basically did because I have an almost-total colorblindness bond and the only way for everyone to miss me seeing all the colors at once is for me to have met my soulmate when I was tiny, and the only person I met when I was that tiny was you, and I went through this whole thing with my mom already and she said that when we met, she and Auntie Mitsuki couldn’t get us to stop crying for no reason and it was really weird, but then after that I was really interested in some ladybug and you were really interested in the grass, like red and green, and so that basically all just confirms it, and—”

Izuku pauses to take another breath, but in that brief silence, he realizes it’s just that. Pure silence. He can’t even hear Kacchan breathing next to him. On the off chance the news of being soulmates was terrible it literally sent Kacchan to an early grave, Izuku raises his head just enough to look at him. Izuku really hopes he’s not dead. Surviving the world’s end but dying from the mere thought of a lifetime with Izuku seems unbalanced somehow.

Kacchan is sitting stock still. His face is drained of its color and his eyes—his red, red eyes, the color of apples and blood and seventeen years of heartbreak and joy, the very things, Izuku supposes, that started this whole debacle—are wide, glued to Izuku. They’re the only part of him moving, rapidly darting across every inch of Izuku’s form, like he’s trying to figure out if this is all a bad dream or not.

“...yeah,” Izuku finishes lamely. “So. I’m sorry.”

God, he wishes this was just a bad dream.

Chapter Text

Thank fucking God this isn’t a dream. Or rather, thank fucking God Katsuki knows this isn’t a dream, because otherwise Izuku would be getting kissed full on the mouth right now. Not something either of them want happening in real life. Katsuki, because he prides himself on the self control he’s painstakingly learned over the past few years; Izuku, because apparently even Katsuki becoming the imaginary soulmate he’s been pining after his entire life isn’t enough to make him consider Katsuki an option. 

He’s so not an option that Izuku’s in full breakdown mode at the thought of being stuck with him for the rest of their lives. As if they weren’t already planning on being stuck together for the rest of their lives. 

Katsuki accepted that his irritation toward Izuku’s fascination with soulmates was less disgust at a weakness and more frustration at the fact that he was obsessed with a hypothetical when, hello, Katsuki is right here! a couple of years ago. Around the time they were saving the world and Katsuki was learning to be less of a dick to literally everyone literally all the time.

But damn if it doesn’t still sting every time. A life in love with your best friend is a life made up of a million tiny rejections. But Katsuki’s tough, and he probably deserves the pain anyway, so. He takes what he can get. Because those million tiny rejections are sprinkled throughout ten million huge happy moments. Moments filled with snark and laughter and competition and comfort and pure, unadulterated joy.

This, unfortunately, is not one of those moments.

“Okay, can you say something or yell or explode or at least, like, breathe, because I thought I was at max capacity for dread but I clearly wasn’t because this silent treatment is really freaking me out,” Izuku croaks, voice still a little panicky and scratchy from tears, and it’s at that very moment Katsuki realizes he’s been holding his breath.

Shit.

The air all flows out of him in one long, choppy, exhale. “Yeah. Yeah, just. Processing,” he says.

Having my heart ripped out of my chest, he doesn’t say.

Trying my damnedest to hold it together in the face of the world’s kindest rejection, he doesn’t say.

Of course Izuku would apologize for not being in love with him. As if that’s his issue.

“Good processing or bad processing? Sorry, let me rephrase that. Bad processing or I’m never speaking to you again processing?”

“Why,” Katsuki starts, before clearing his throat. “Why would I never speak to you again?” He feels a bit like he’s being spoken to in a foreign language. Though Izuku may very well be assuming Katsuki is somehow stronger than he really is. That he would have the power to walk away once he was rejected to his face. The thought is flattering, but, as much as he pretends to, he doesn’t have that kind of backbone. Not when it comes to this. To them . He’ll take whatever he can get.

Fuck , Katsuki thinks, not for the first time, why can’t he just be cruel for once?

Izuku buries his head back behind his knees, so it comes out muffled when he says, “Because I just irrevocably altered your life plans and revealed that our entire relationship is a sham in one fell swoop.”

Hold the fucking phone.

Katsuki rises from the bed, walks across the room. Are his life plans irrevocably altered? It’s looking more like it by the second. But—

“No. No, no way, fuck that. I did not go to therapy for you to call our whole fucking relationship a fucking sham,” Katsuki forces out, whirling around to face Izuku. He hopes Izuku doesn’t notice the way he’s started cursing more, the way his hands are curling up to create imaginary sparks, the way he’s trying to shield himself from further damage, but he knows he must.

“But—but if we’re soulmates, that means it’s destiny,” Izuku says with growing desperation. “You’ve always said it yourself. ‘Fuck soulmates.’ You think they’re stupid, you—you—” He cuts himself off, seeming lost.

If this were any other moment, Katsuki might poke fun at him for cursing or running out of words for once. But this isn’t any other moment. So he keeps his mouth shut. On that subject, at least. As for the soulmates thing…

“Yeah,” Katsuki not-quite-yells, “and I stand by that. Fuck soulmates! Okay?! Real shit takes work and effort and we’ve put in the time, goddamnit!”

Izuku stands to match his energy, getting louder. “And it was all predestined! You resent that! None of it was on purpose!”

“I love you on purpose! Okay?! I did that! And it took a shit ton of work! Even though, apparently, we’re soulmates! So you can shove that soulmates-are-automatic shit right up your ass!”

A beat. Two. Silence. Heavy breathing.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit shit fuck shit. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Katsuki’s not sure it was supposed to go down at all. They were supposed to go about their lives and become a hero duo and fight their way to the top together and win to save and save to win and someday, Izuku’d fall in love with someone and Katsuki would go out for a few beers with Eijirou and maybe cry alone in his room a couple of times and suck it up and Izuku would never know. That was the plan. No soulmates or confessions of love or being way too fucking much way too fucking soon.

But that plan went out the window the moment he knocked on Izuku’s door, so.

“You. I. No, that’s,” Izuku stammers, looking completely shell-shocked. “That’s not. Can you repeat that? Because I think my hearing cut out for a second or I had a very vivid auditory hallucination or something.”

With that, all the fight drains out of Katsuki’s body. He walks over to Izuku’s desk and leans against it, resigned. “I said what I said, alright? And I didn’t intend on saying it in the first place so you can be damn sure I’m not saying it again. Now, get this over with so I can go, I don’t fucking know, wallow , or whatever.”

Izuku still seems a bit slow on the uptake. Katsuki can practically see the thoughts zooming around in his head. “Get… what over with?”

Jesus Christ. For the emotionally constipated one in this relationship, Katsuki’s sure doing a lot of the heavy lifting here. “The rejection. The rejection you were in the middle of earlier. Get on with it.”

And with that, Izuku’s eyes widen and his lips part just enough to suck in a sharp breath. It’s his “light bulb moment” face. (Katsuki refuses to use the phrase “light bulb moment” unironically or take any ownership of its usage. That’s all Izuku.)

“You thought… but I thought… and I was… and you actually…” is all he manages to get out before his mumbling becomes fully unintelligible, even to Katsuki. Rough moment, but she’s still the same old Izuku.

Nerd , Katsuki thinks affectionately, unable to stop himself. Or, rather, he thought it was in his head, but judging by the way Izuku’s train of thought is broken and his head whips back up to stare, awed, he said it out loud. Fuck. He’s really falling apart here.

Izuku keeps staring silently for a few seconds before a grin appears on his face and he breathes, “ Oh. How did I not…”

“Alright, what? What is it?”

“It’s—You—” Izuku keeps getting caught up on his words, and Katsuki’s getting really sick of it. It’s kind of fucking creepy at this point, Izuku smiling so wide at a time like this.

Katsuki’s about to open his mouth to try to hurry things along again when his brain goes blank.

His brain goes blank because something is pressing against his face. Izuku. Izuku’s face is pressing against his face. Their faces are touching. Their lips , even. Holy shit. It’s all Katsuki can do to realize this before the pressure and warmth is gone.

It happens so fast that he would be inclined to believe he imagined it if not for the faint, lingering smell of ozone—did Izuku really use his quirk to move that fast?—and the bright red on Izuku’s face.

Well, what Katsuki can see of his face from behind his frantically waving hands.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—well, I did think, but I got excited and I forgot to ask , and—Oh, no. Please tell me I’m not wrong. If I’m wrong, I may have to go on the lam again. Relive my vigilante days, hopefully take more showers this time— please tell me I’m not wrong.”

“Wrong about what?! You still haven’t said anything out loud, idiot!”

Izuku seems to have forgotten this fact. “Oh. Oh! Right. You’re not inside my head, so you don’t know what’s going on in there. Right! Um.” He pauses for some time. Katsuki thinks to himself that he should earn some sort of Nobel Patience Prize. “Wow, okay, this is harder to say than I expected, considering you’ve already—”

Fuck the Nobel Patience Prize.

“Izuku, if you don’t spit it out right fucking now, I will break every bone in your body, explode this whole fucking room, and walk out. I swear to fucking God,” Katsuki grits out, palms sparking.

“I like you! Or, I love you, since there’s really no point in trying to be casual about it at this point. When was the last time either of us were casual about anything, right? I love you, did I say that part already? Like, a lot. Wow , it feels good to be able to say that out loud. And we’re soulmates! And this all still seems kind of like it’s not real, but it is real! It has to be real because if this was my imagination, I think that sock wouldn’t be on the floor. Especially since there’s only the one. Where did the other—”

And then Kastuki’s hands are on his waist, pulling him in, and they’re kissing because Katsuki may have better self-control now, but he’s not waiting fuck knows how long for Izuku to finish rambling about his goddamn laundry to do this.

Izuku is still for a moment, maybe realizing what’s happening, before his hands fly to Katsuki’s face and he’s kissing back a little deeper and, wow, Katsuki suddenly understands why everyone’s so obsessed with this.

If he were to look at this objectively, the kiss is not good. Their noses are kind of mashed together and Izuku’s desk is digging into his tailbone and it’s abundantly clear neither of them have ever done this before.

But Katsuki’s not looking at this objectively, so this is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

It’s not been nearly long enough—maybe a few seconds or maybe a few years, Katsuki’s not really in possession of his full mental faculties right now—when Izuku breaks away. Katsuki opens his eyes to glare and let him know that this is unacceptable behavior, but when he actually sees Izuku’s face, he loses his train of thought.

Izuku’s lips are almost the same shade of red as his cheeks, and they’re slightly shiny—because they’re wet, because of me, Katsuki thinks briefly, hysterically—he’s panting, and his dumbass big, wet puppy dog eyes are… concerned? The hell?

“Are you okay?” he asks, tenderly wiping beneath Katsuki’s eyes with his thumbs.

Wiping away tears. Because Katsuki is crying. Goddamnit.

Maybe he can save this. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he dismisses as he leans back in. He’s stopped by a hand on his chest and a stern look.

“Kacchan.”

Maybe if he could see the future, he would’ve died during the War when he had the chance. Walked into the light. Avoided the most embarrassing fucking moment of his entire fucking life. Maybe if he thinks hard enough, that light will let him walk in now. Or the floor will swallow him whole. Something merciful like that.

Nothing happens.

Katsuki shuts his eyes tight and lets his head land in the crook of Izuku’s neck. “I’ve just…” he mumbles. “I’ve been. Waiting for this for. A while.”

Izuku sucks in a sharp breath. “How long is a while?”

If the universe is planning to cut him any slack, now would be the time. But when has the universe ever cut him any fucking slack.

“Give or take… two years.”

“Two years?!” Izuku nearly shouts, grabbing Katsuki’s shoulders and pushing him an arms-length away to get a good look at him. “I didn’t even know I liked you until, like, a few months ago! How the heck were you ahead of me?! You’re the emotionally stunted one!”

Katsuki scoffs good-naturedly. “Okay, first of all, hurtful, asshole. Your words have consequences. Second of all, I don’t know if you know this, but you were kind of really fucking relevant when I was in therapy, and therapy tends to lend itself to introspection. And third of all,” he says, crossing his arms and smirking, “ you really think I would let you beat me to something?”

“Outside intervention doesn’t count! That is cheating. At least I knew you were amazing the whole time. You hated me!” Izuku exclaims, a big smile on his face.

“Are you really fishing for partial credit right now?”

Izuku’s hands fly up in indignation, and he retrieves his phone from the bed. “That’s it! I’m asking Shoto who wins.”

“No fucking fair! You know damn well that bastard would never side with me out loud! Besides, how are you going to explain that?” Katsuki demands before pitching his voice as high as it’ll go. “‘Oh, yeah, you know how I don’t have a soulmate? Well, I actually do, and it’s Kacchan, and we made out for like—’”

“I do not sound like that! And I wouldn’t go into detail.” Izuku insists, sounding horribly scandalized, hand flying to his own chest.

The absurdity of this whole situation has been building up in Katsuki’s brain for a while now; the fact that they’re somehow soulmates, the fact that Izuku has liked— loved, even—him for months, the fact that they both immediately turned this into a competition—because of course they did—but something about Izuku clutching his imaginary pearls is the last straw, and Katsuki fucking loses it laughing.

Izuku joins him and suddenly, they’re both doubled over with laughter, falling all over each other, stumbling over to sit on the bed so that they don’t end up collapsed on the floor.

After an unreasonable amount of time, they manage to calm down, and they’re left with a moment that is so quintessentially them. Laying on Izuku’s bed together, all heaving breaths and looking into each other’s eyes and pink cheeks that hurt from smiling. Katsuki always assumed this would be more awkward somehow, but it’s not. It’s like they were… made for this. 

Damn, love has made Katsuki sappy.

“Hey,” Izuku starts, quiet, “do you wanna, like, go out sometime? Maybe?”

“...Did you seriously just ask me out so you could say you did it first?”

“I had to, okay! The opportunity was too good to pass up!”

Katsuki snorts and leans closer, grazing his nose against Izuku’s. “You’re so lucky I love you,” he murmurs, their lips brushing.

“Yeah,” Izuku whispers. “Yeah, I really am.”