Archive of Our Own ^beta

The doorbell of the restaurant chimes when they come in, and the smell of freshly made ramen reaches Katsuki's nose and makes his stomach growl. The place is familiar, comforting, and it soothes his aching bones and mind after a long day.

Izuku drops himself in front of him at the other side of their favourite table (in the corner, private enough to not be bothered if recognized), his brain working overtime as he makes a detailed review of their training session that day. Izuku had molded into the suit like a second skin, and if Katsuki hadn't literally planned the suit inch for inch, he wouldn't have noticed the difference between its trinkets and the real One For All.

Katsuki rolls his eyes as he slides into the seat, making eye contact with Granny and nodding his head in approval when she mouths at him, 'Same as usual?' from behind the counter.

The nice old lady is such a fake— no one who cooks ramen that damn spicy can't be anything but a lethal weapon.

He tunes back into the conversation and is immediately swarmed by Izuku, eagerly muttering up a storm as per usual.

"—so I think it would be better. Maybe I need to start timing the attacks? Just to be sure. I think I could remember exactly how many seconds it took me to do each one if I think hard enough, which could be really helpful to measure accuracy!"

"If you want," Katsuki shrugs. "But I'm sure All Might got the suit's response time pretty accurately."

"Hm, you're right. We shouldn't waste time on that. I haven't had any issues with timing, so I'm just being hypothetical."

"Waste time?" Katsuki questions with a quirked eyebrow. "What's the hurry, nerd?"

Izuku pauses, unsure. His eyes flick to him and then down to the table, lips pursed.

"Well, I—"

He's promptly interrupted by Granny carrying their steaming bowls of ramen with a big smile. Katsuki's mouth waters at the smell; he's fucking starving after training all afternoon. Izuku asks for medium spicy because he's a crybaby, but Katsuki's plate makes his eyes water from the steam alone. Perfect. 

“Thank you, Tanaka-San!” Izuku chirps. 

"No problem, darling," she says, pulling two pairs of chopsticks from her apron. "I was starting to miss you. It was odd seeing your Bakugou-San here alone last time."

"I was behind in some lesson planning," Izuku sheepishly explains. "Had to miss some lunches."

"As if you could afford that, idiot," Katsuki retorts, throwing the wrapper of the chopsticks at him. "You should be eating better than ever now that you're so fucking busy, symbol of peace."

"Kacchan takes such good care of me," Izuku mocks. He turns to Granny and grins. "He makes bentos for me and takes them to school when he knows I'm too caught up in work."

Katsuki opens his mouth to tell him to shut the hell up, but nothing comes out because he's too busy trying not to blush under Granny's awed gaze. He ends up growling. "Can't believe you still have to be reminded to eat! First, you tried to eat everything when we were brats: glue, dirt, and the damn sand from the sandbox. And now you forget?"

"The sand was one time!"

"One too fucking many!"

"Oh, you've known each other since then?" Granny asks.

"Been dealing with his ugly face since forever," Katsuki replies, feigning annoyance instead of the deep fondness the memories bring him. Sappy shit.

"How lovely!" She claps her hands together, delighted. "You know, I married my osanajimi. We've been happy together for 50 years. Right, honey?”

The cranky old man by the register grunts in acknowledgment, too busy fighting the computer in front of him (a thing that looked as old as him). 

Izuku, ever the nerd, turns bright red. He stares at Katsuki wide-eyed, making a big deal out of a comment that could have been easily overlooked and acting as if Katsuki was going to turn and explode him at any second. Many years ago, he might have. 

Katsuki is saved from the awkward situation when new clients walk in and wave at Granny, choosing to sit at the other side of the restaurant. 

“Oh! Gotta get going,” she says. “Let me know if you boys need anything, alright? Drinks are on the house.”

“Thank you, Tanaka-San,” Izuku replies in a bashful little voice. 

When the old lady leaves, Izuku is left looking down, playing with his food with a stiff expression on his face. Katsuki clenches his jaw and takes a sip of his iced tea, fingers twitching around the glass. 

It's funny how easily they could retreat to their awkward first-year-of-high-school selves under the right circumstances, when Izuku was scared of looking his way and Katsuki was eternally enraged because of it, despite it being his fault. 

He knows Izuku doesn't resent him, but he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for it. No amount of apologies, near-death experiences, or suits feels like enough when it comes to atoning for his mistakes. 

Yet, for Izuku, Katsuki is always willing to try.

“How are your brats behaving?” He offers an olive branch. 

Izuku's head jerks up, and, as always, his face brightens at the mention of his students.

“They're mad at you for missing the lecture the other day."

“Tell them to excuse me for getting a goddamn concussion, then,” Katsuki says sarcastically. “Stupid villain chose that day to crack my skull open.”

An idiot with a blinding quirk made him smash straight into a concrete wall. Ugh. He still beat the hell out of him, but the head injury was nasty. Thank God for healing quirks; if not, he'd still be stuck at the hospital. And he hated hospitals. 

“You've spoiled them too much,” Izuku teases. “Having one of the best heroes out there personally teaching them so often? They're lucky kids.”

Katsuki thinks it's not him they're lucky for having, but he doesn't say. 

“You're the one who spoils them,” he grunts. He shoves the noodles into his mouth after blowing on them, and the spice kinda numbs his tongue. “You're too soft on them, you mother hen. If I didn't know you so well, I'd think you birthed all 20 of them.”

“Don't worry, sometimes I feel like I might have, too,” he laughs. “And I'm strict when it matters, though.” Izuku points out. Then, out of nowhere, he gets that lost look in his eyes, as if he were drifting somewhere far from where his physical body is. “But they're so young, Kacchan. It's weird to think we were their age when—” he pauses, grimaces, and shakes his head. “They should enjoy their high school days, too. Besides, they're all such great kids, I know they'll be excellent heroes one day.” He smiled, all soft and proud. 

To be honest, Izuku does have an impressive class. The quirk doomsday theory was right in some aspects because kids' quirks these days were crazy strong. Thankfully, they have a badass teacher with the biggest brain ever, who is more than happy to guide them in the early stages of their future career. It also helps that the students hold a huge respect for him, considering he's the savior of Japan and all that. The brats stare at him with stars in their pubescent eyes. As they should, those little terrors. Izuku is the best there is, and they should be damn grateful.

“Tell them to stop whining and maybe I'll think about making it up to them next week.” Katsuki grins. He has a few ideas. The brats loved it when he gave them a hard time. They have absorbed Deku's drive; they're so eager to learn and get better that they barely care when he beats their asses. Katsuki is a victim of the circumstances, really. 

Izuku gives him an unimpressed look. 

“No.”

“You don't even know what I was going to suggest!”

“I don't need to. No.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue and falls back into the squeaky fake leather booth. “Whatever, fine, overprotect them,” he grumbled. 

“Don't throw a tantrum at me.” Izuku rolls his eyes, “You can come after next week.”

Katsuki frowns. “Why not next week?”

The nerd's hiding something. He's doing that thing with his eyebrows, the one where they pinch together as he tries to smile, and it makes it look like he is in excruciating pain. He's physically unable to keep shit to himself, so Katsuki isn't worrying, but also, why is he hiding stuff from him?

“Nerd.”

“I might not be available next week,” Izuku blurts, anxiously biting his lips. 

Huh?

Izuku never misses school. It isn't a vacation, he knows that much. Katsuki's caught him teaching with a fever and deadly hangovers; he'd have to be tied to a hospital bed to miss his classes. And even then, Katsuki wouldn't trust him to keep his ass still. 

So this is odd, to say the least. 

“Hawks offered me a mission.”

Katsuki's eyebrows jump up to his hairline. 

“A mission?”

“Yeah, he called the other day and asked how I was doing with the suit. And since things have been going so well, I told him I was practically ready to be back in the field.” He tries playing it cool, but there's a restrained tension in the way he speaks. Which means that he knows Katsuki is going to bitch about it.

“Being practically ready is not the same as being ready, Izuku!”

There are still things they need to go over before Izuku is fully ready to return to hero work! Air force still wasn't calibrated to absolute perfection, blackwhip made a metallic, annoying sound that Katsuki despised when the cables shot out, and smoke screen was just a tad too purple.

Theoretically, he could go back to hero work with the suit as it is. Those details aren't anything truly serious, and Izuku knows how to adapt to any situation quickly enough. 

And yet. 

It has been so long. Going headfirst into a mission alone can't be the best idea. But the nerd has been insisting that he's good to go for a while now (despite Katsuki's protests); he should've known he was gonna pull a stunt like this. 

“Kacchan, I told you I was ready!”

“And I told you I didn’t give a fuck what you thought!”

“You can't tell me what to do,” Izuku huffs, visibly frustrated. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “I'm an adult, I can decide for myself.”

“Oh yeah? You can't decide shit from the grave, asshole,” Katsuki spits. 

Izuku's eyes soften at that, and a small part of Katsuki hates how it makes him feel so vulnerable. 

“You don't have to worry about me, Kacchan,” Izuku assures, as if that's not what Katsuki's been doing for the last 10 years. “I know the suit could use some adjustments, but they're all minor things. How am I supposed to know for sure what's needed if I don't use it in a real fight?”

“You do use it in real fights,” he argues, “you spar with me and others all the time exactly for that reason.”

“You know it's not the same.” Izuku gives him a wilful look, tilting his head down to stare at him. “Kacchan. Hawks asked me."

“There are a shit ton of available heroes out there, why does it have to be you?”

“They need the multiple quirks, but only one person can go. I can't say much, but it's nothing too dangerous, I promise. Worst case scenario is that the villain isn't alone and I have to wait for backup to apprehend it.”

His eye twitches when Izuku refuses to disclose the information, but he must have signed an NDA or something; Hawks is extremely persnickety with that. Katsuki isn't afraid of a suit malfunction, not really. He was self-aware enough to know that was just an excuse. But he can't shake the restlessness off of him. 

"So you're planning on going alone?"

"That's the idea."

“And what are you going to do if you're stuck in a shitty situation all by yourself, idiot?” Katsuki wipes his hand across his face.

“I'll deal with it if it happens, like any other hero would,” he replies with a pointed look.

The question itself is plenty insulting. He mentally kicks himself for it. He'd be terribly offended if someone else implied he couldn't manage a mission he was hand-picked for. The most exasperating part is that Katsuki doesn't have any logical arguments beyond a stupid gut feeling that he had no idea where it was coming from.

“Do you trust me?”

Katsuki stares at him with vexed eyes and uneasiness written all over his forehead. 

“You know I trust you, idiot,” he sighs, “But you're giving me gray hairs.”

“Good thing you're blonde then.”

“Izuku.”

“Kacchan, I want to do this,” Izuku pleads. And he doesn't even have to explain himself to him, but Izuku is empathetic enough to humor him. “I need to do this.” Katsuki is going to argue, but he freezes in place when crooked fingers slide on top of his own. The touch is so light that in any other circumstances, he'd barely feel it. But Izuku's hand is like an electric shock to his senses, leaving him tingly all over. “It feels so good to know I can be out there helping others again. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

If he were 15, he would've already flipped the table and left the hell out of there to go and explode an innocent trashcan or something — and he was still petty, don't get him wrong, but he's grown out of making it everyone else's problem. 

He squeezes his eyes shut before saying, “When do you leave?”

"Two days from today, first hour in the morning.”

Katsuki grits his teeth hard enough to hear them squeak and bites his tongue. He has to remind himself that no amount of yelling or mean words has ever worked on Deku, and if he lashed out at him like he wanted to, nothing good would come out of it.

Katsuki can't tell him what to do, and he shouldn't even want to. But feeling a possessive entitlement over Izuku wasn't new, was it? He'll just have to drown the demons again. Part of this new relationship Izuku and he had developed was rooted in trust, and as much as it makes Katsuki's insides eat themselves right now, he had to respect it.

“I’m not watering your plants.”

Izuku's downturned lips slowly curve up in a smile. 

“They died.”

Katsuki scoffs and sips his tea. Why does he even love this idiot so much? 

He stares at Izuku and, like a mirage, sees the 4-year-old boy who reached out his hand to him at the river, and yeah. How could he not? 

“It was a matter of time.”

“You’re so mean, they lasted a month this time!”

The second he drops Izuku off at his apartment after dinner, his phone is being dialed as he drives back home.

“My favorite walking TNT,” Hawks' annoying voice comes out of the speakers. “What can I—”

“I’m going to fucking kill you. Gonna put a stick in your ass and roast you over the fire like the goddamn chicken you are.”

“Ohhh, Midoriya already told you?” he doesn't sound at all guilty, which pisses Katsuki off to no end.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he barks.

“We needed him, so we asked and he said yes," he says, as if it's that simple. "And don't think I asked before seeing the suit's readings first; he's more than ready. I knew you were going to throw a fit, because let's be honest, when do you not, but I still can't figure out why?”

“I’m not—,” he tightens his hands around the wheel, the words die on his tongue.

What's bothering him so much? Yeah, the suit lacked some adjustments, but the probability of them resulting in fatality was laughably low. Logically, Izuku was ready to go and kick villain ass however he wanted to, and he shouldn’t even get a scratch in return. But deep down, Katsuki is being pushed to accept that his aversion to the situation might have nothing to do with logic. 

“You can't baby him, Bakugou,” Hawks says. “Why did you go through all that trouble making that thing if you were going to get like this? It's like giving a kid a skateboard on Christmas and then freaking out every time they use it.”

“I don't know, okay?" He finally admits. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"C'mon, it's normal," Hawks says, "Your boyfriend has been off the field for a long time and you're worried he could get hurt."

"He's not my boyfriend," he hisses, as if Hawks will give a damn.

"Yeah, sure, is Midoriya aware of that?"

"Oh my God, I hate you so much."

"I love you, my little hatchling," Hawks replies, and Katsuki has to resist the urge to bang his head on the wheel. "Listen, this is just a one-time bitter pill to swallow; first times are never easy. He will be fine. We're talking about Mister Stubborn here, you know that whatever the case is, he'll put up a hell of a fight. Don't underestimate him."

"I'm not fucking underestimating him." And he's truly not. This has nothing to do with what Izuku can or can't do, but again, Katsuki can't find the proper words to make Hawks understand that. "If you're sending him off, then I'm going with him."

"Absolutely not," the bird denies. "The asset in question is highly flammable, and no fire quirk can come in contact with it. You're staying home, buddy."

"How fucking convenient," Katsuki grunts, feeling his temples begin to throb.

"Let him leave the nest, he'll be alright," Hawks assures in that laid-back way that drives Katsuki absolutely mad. "Your boyfriend will be home and ready to be coddled sooner than—"

Katsuki hangs up.

The day Izuku leaves, Katsuki spends the whole day feeling like there's a pit in his stomach, distracted and grouchy. Interns and coworkers alike avoid him in the agency halls, and honestly, Katsuki couldn't blame them. When he gets home that night, he's in autopilot. And when he finally gets in bed, he eventually has to accept he won't be sleeping much that night, which is irritating as hell, considering he has an off day the next morning, and he was hoping to sleep in a little.

He tosses and turns in his bed until he decides he's had enough of angrily rolling around. The first rays of sunshine have started to peek behind his curtains, so he gives up. He'll have to wake up soon anyway. The hero rips the sheets off his body with a grunt and stands up, eyes heavy. The floor under his naked feet is cold, but it's somehow appeasing. He forgoes slippers and pads his way to the kitchen through the dimly illuminated apartment until he reaches the kitchen, setting the electric kettle on before rummaging through the cabinets.

He finds the fancy "chill and sleep" untouched tea that Yaoyorozu gifted him for his birthday last year, and scowls at it. It's his best shot at going back to sleep, so he tries not to feel silly as he pulls out a mug and drops the tea bag inside. He leans against the counter as he waits for the water to be ready, trying not to entertain the agitated thoughts that have kept him awake all night.

Fucking Deku. This is all his fault. Can't he listen to him for once? Even if it's for granting him some much-needed peace of mind? He feels as if he gulped 5 cans of Red Bull and called it a night. And all because of what? Because Deku is God knows where doing who the fuck what? Ridiculous.

Frankly, he feels guilty as fuck for being so worried over nothing, because it seems like he's thinking Deku can't handle himself, which is not at all true. He might be a little tense about it being Izuku's first mission in a while, but it's not what's stealing his sleep and making a hole in his stomach. The kettle beeps, and he mindlessly pours the steamy water into the cup, eyes lost somewhere in the kitchen tiles.

There is only one thing that could give him some peace, and it's shoved in a drawer in his office across the hall. It tempts him, like a siren call. But he promised himself that he wouldn't cross that line; that he would never use it unless he had no choice. It was bad enough that he had asked Mei for it, so he has no other option but to let himself rot in whatever absurd paranoia he's experiencing.

His phone vibrating on the counter is what pulls him out of his head. It leaves a weird taste in his mouth when he reads Izuku's name on the screen. He's calling from the suit interphone.

He picks up, hoping that Izuku wouldn't notice the reluctance behind his voice. "Nerd?"

"Kacchan."

There is static on the line, but that's not too strange since Izuku could be literally anywhere right now. What is strange, however, is that Izuku's calling him while he's supposed to be on a confidential mission that he couldn't get anyone to give him any intel on.

"Are you allowed to make contact?"

Not making calls during stealth missions is mostly a precautionary measure that any hero who has ever worked undercover knows. Any leaks could be fatal.

"Yeah," Izuku replies, though Katsuki barely picks up his voice because the call glitches.

"It sounds like shit."

"Must be the signal around here."

"Is the place birdbrain sent you that bad?" He questions as he grabs the mug off the counter and blows on it, taking a small sip after. He grimaces at the bitter taste — he forgot the honey.

"It's…" Izuku hesitates, then takes a big breath. "Exactly where you'd think villains would hide."

"Abandoned warehouse?"

"Hm."

"Those fuckers don't even bother keeping it interesting,” He chuffs air out of his nose, resembling an unreached snort.

"It's not precisely original," Izuku laughs, and it's soft, almost too soft. "But I'll give him points for the organization. They seem very methodical."

"Are they yakuza?"

Izuku rasps, "No, they're entrepreneurs," he jokes, voice hoarse. "Following a dream."

Katsuki frowns. He tries to make any other sounds in the background, but there's nothing that gives him a clue about why Izuku sounds so strange.

"You sound weird."

"It's the sig—"

"No, dipshit, I meant you."

"Oh," he breathes. "'M just feeling a little anxious, I guess? Dunno."

"Anxious?" Katsuki repeats. "You? The villain-ass-kicking machine?" Don't believe it." It's meant to be a joke, to get him to relax a bit, but Izuku doesn't make a sound. Katsuki clears his throat, demeanor changing. "Is that why you called me?"

"I can't call my best friend?"

And it's not like Katsuki doesn't know that's what they are, but hearing him say it so casually and out of the blue is not something he's used to. It's no secret, yet they don't go around saying it. It's only when one of them needs some type of reassurance that it's mentioned, and that makes it special. At least to Katsuki. Even when he wished that friendship was not the only thing between them.

"Yeah, you can," Katsuki breathes, mouth suddenly dry. "But you should focus."

"Can't," Izuku answers. He hears some shuffling behind the phone, and then a grunt. "I… I wanted to hear you."

Katsuki's heart stutters, making his stupid watch beep. There is a weird edge to the whole conversation, like something that happens in a flimsy dream or in the dark of a room where two people speak in whispers. It reminds him of the conversations they've had in hospitals or after exceptionally emotional situations, like barely making it out of fights. Or like the quiet talks they had in the dorms when everyone else had gone to sleep, private and vulnerable in a way neither of them would be when the world was awake.

Izuku is working. Why is he doing this now?

"You can hear me when you get back," he claims. "When do you come back?"

Silence meets him through the other side of the line. When he starts to get impatient, Izuku answers in a low mutter. "I don't know."

Sometimes the missions didn't have a set time. They lasted as long as they needed to last. It's odd to Katsuki that Izuku would take it if that were the case. Izuku hates leaving his students for too long, and the brats are so clingy towards him that he doubts they would forgive him for leaving indefinitely like that.

Something's not adding up. And God, it's not often that he wishes to be wrong, but he sure fucking does now.

"Where are you, Izuku?"

Izuku takes a shaky breath and weakly repeats, "I don't know."

"Are you okay?" When he gets no reply, he knows the answer. It freezes his blood with liquid terror. "Izuku, are you hurt?"

"Kacchan, you— you do know I forgave you even before you apologized?" Izuku asks instead, breathing getting heavier. "And that I never held any grudges against you."

Katsuki nearly drops the phone, and the water spills from the mug from how hard he jolts, burning his hand.

"I never once looked at you with anything but admiration," he says, and he sounds short-winded, words labored. The knot Katsuki had in his throat all day tightens so tautly it physically hurts, obstructing his airway. “You're so amazing, Kacchan. And I'm so proud of you."

"Izuku," Katsuki exclaims, heartbeat starting to rise in cold fear, catching up with the urgency in Izuku's tone. "Where the hell are you."

"I — I can't think clearly. They hit me with a quirk," Izuku whispers. “My mind is all hazy.”

“Tell me your status, full body check, now,” Katsuki orders, sprinting to his office.

“Kacchan, I can't feel anything.”

Fear takes over him like ice in his veins. He slams the door of his office open and beelines to the second drawer of his desk.

The device that has all of the suit's readings when Izuku is using it is heavy as he takes it out and places it on his desk, and it looks like a simple computer at first glance. The screen immediately lights up when Katsuki opens it. It has a singular purpose, so Katsuki barely has to press any buttons before a red dot starts blinking in the middle of the screen, with Izuku's name underneath and coordinates on the side.

"Have you notified the commission?" Katsuki doesn't wait for his response to dial Hawks' number.

"They must k—know by now. Villains destroyed my pager," he says with difficulty.

"I've got you," Katsuki assures, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, hero training kicking in as he waits for the other line to pick up. If he freaks out, Izuku is only going to get more nervous, and they can't afford that right now. "Where are the villains?"

"I'm sorry, Kacchan, I'm not… I can't—," his already weak voice breaks, and it makes Katsuki's heart throb sorely in his chest. Izuku is scared, and Katsuki isn't there.

"Hey, listen to me," he demands. "You're going to be fucking fine, you hear me? When have I ever lied to you? You have to trust me, Izuku."

It feels like an eternity has passed when Hawks finally picks up.

"Bakugou," It's one of the very few times he doesn't sound as composed as always. He doesn't ask why he's calling. “Have you talked to him?”

"I have him on the line. What the fuck is going on?"

“We don't know,” the bird replies, “We lost contact around 15 minutes ago, and he hasn't changed positions. How did you call him? His pager is damaged.”

"He called me,” Katsuki grunts, eyes quickly scanning the screen in front of him.

He expected to see a wall of warning windows jumping at him to warn about the critical condition of the suit and the severity of Izuku's injuries as soon as he opened the computer.

But he sees none of that.

He watches with confusion as the steady lines of Izuku's vitals appear, the suit working at 99% capacity and everything looking just… fine. The only thing out of place is Izuku's accelerated heartbeat and fast breathing, but apart from that, everything's in optimal condition.

“Bakugou?” Hawks calls, and it makes Katsuki blink into awareness.

“Here,” he says, double and triple checking that what he's seeing is correct. "What the fuck," he whispers under his breath.

"What did Midoriya say to you?"

Whatever is happening, even when it doesn't show on the readings, isn't good. Izuku is not one to get so easily shaken; he's a trained hero who has plenty of experience under his sleeve to handle unforeseen situations such as this one with a cool head. But he sounds like he's entering a state of panic, almost completely out of it, while claiming not to feel anything. Katsuki doesn't give a shit about whatever mission Hawks sent him; Izuku needs to come home now.

"Something went wrong," Katsuki states. "He mentioned being hit with an unidentified quirk, and he's compromised." He turns to his cellphone. “Izuku, you with me?”

Izuku mutters something unintelligible.

"I'm sending the extraction team," he hears commotion behind the line, and Hawks' muffled voice for a second before he comes back, "They'll be there in 10 minutes."

10 minutes sounds like an eternity to him. Izuku is vulnerable right now; he can't be exposed for long. Unfortunately, Katsuki doesn't have a warping quirk, and no matter how much he wishes he did right now, he'll just have to trust Hawks' team to get Izuku out of there as soon as possible and do what he hates most: waiting.

He aims for the best next thing. There ain't no way he's sitting on his ass and doing nothing. "Hospital?" he asks, already heading to the door.

When a hero is hit with an unknown quirk, the protocol calls for an immediate check-up by the quirk specialists. If the quirk is too tricky, then the hero will be left in observation for 24 hours to see if any symptoms manifest. Izuku is already showing signs of being affected, so Katsuki hopes they don't have to put him into one of those horrible, sterile observation rooms for too long.

"Yes, I already notified the staff. They'll be waiting for him," Hawks confirms.

"I'll meet you there," he says, and then hangs up. He switches back to his cellphone again, "Izuku, talk to me."

"Kacchan," he breathes through the phone.

"They're coming to get you, okay? Just hold on a little longer, nerd, don't hang up." He presses the phone between his ear and shoulder as he hops from one foot to another to get his shoes on and then grabs his keys.

"Are you coming?" Izuku inquires with hope tinting his voice. And something about Izuku so openly wanting him does something to his weak heart.

"I'll be at the hospital when—"

"No!" Izuku exclaims, "You don't get it. I— I need to see you now!"

"Calm down, it won't be long." This quirk is definitely behavioral; otherwise, Izuku wouldn't be acting like this. "I promise you I'll be right there."

"I'm scared, Kacchan," Izuku meekly admits. He hears sniffling on the other side, and despite having listened to Izuku crying many times, this sounds different. The words shatter him, and helplessness makes his hands curl into fists.

Katsuki hates empty promises. He wants to tell Izuku he won't let anything happen to him, but how can he keep him safe when he doesn't even know where he is? He puts on his shoes and grabs his phone before leaving his apartment in a flurry.

"There's nothing wrong about being scared," he tells him. And Katsuki knows about fear. He's full of it right now. "It means that you're doing something really brave."

Katsuki reaches the parking and hops into his car; the call automatically connecting to the Bluetooth.

"'M not brave," Izuku faintly refutes. He hears him thickly swallow. "There's something… It scares me so much. That's why I haven't— and I have to…" It's like he's choking on his words, and the jagged edges of the incomplete phrases cut Katsuki through the distance.

Regardless of whether what Izuku is trying to say is an effect of the quirk-induced delusion he's experiencing or not, it's obvious that it's stressing him greatly. The experience is mentally draining him enough as it is. Katsuki can hear the strain in his voice, and he hates it. He wants to relieve it, at least some of it, however he can.

"What scares you, nerd?"

Katsuki prompts him to talk, then starts the car's engine. For some reason, what Izuku might say unnerves him. This whole situation has all of his nerves frying, actually; the lack of control torments him.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he whispers, a whimper clawing at the back of his throat. "I'm scared it will be too late before I can…"

"Nothing will fucking happen to you," Katsuki snaps as he speeds through the mostly empty streets. It's too early for the city to be awake. "Whatever it is, you'll have time to do it once you're safe."

The with me part goes unsaid.

"You don't know that!" Izuku shouts, words sharp with desperation. "That's why I need to see you. You have to know."

"Know what?"

"That I'm in love with you!"

His foot hits the brakes so fast the wheels scrape against the pavement with a loud screeching noise. His whole body whips forward and then back to meet the seat with the force of the abrupt brake, and Katsuki is left staring into the lonesome road ahead of him with wide eyes and his mouth hanging half-open as his ears ring.

"You're not thinking straight right now," he breathes out, slowly blinking his eyes to the car's control screen where Izuku's name glares back at him. "Don't—"

"You have to believe me, Kacchan! Please," he cries out, "It's true! It's been true for years. But I was so scared to tell you, I didn't want to lose you. But it doesn't matter now that I'm not coming back." Izuku talks as if he's suffocating, gasping for air in between phrases.

Katsuki is blank. So many thoughts are spiraling inside his head, and he can't make out a single word. The world just tilted off its axis, and he's paralyzed inside his car as the traffic light changes colors in the distance. He tries to speak, but something is obstructing his throat.

Izuku is in love with him.

He's spent half of his life convincing himself that the boy he loves could ever love him back. Not after everything, not with their history. And now Izuku is telling him that he's been holding back his feelings because he doesn't want to lose him? As if Katsuki wouldn't fight all the villains in the world just for a chance to be with him.

He can't believe Izuku managed to do it again, taking the lead without Katsuki even noticing when he surpassed him along the way. But the nerd managed to stand in front of him, look right through Katsuki's heart, and reach out his hand once more.

"Izuku, I—"

"No!" Izuku suddenly yells, voice full of panic, "Let go!"

"Who's there?!" Katsuki shouts, mind clearing in the face of Izuku being endangered.

"Kacchan!" Izuku cries hysterically. "Kacchan, help me!"

"Izuku!"

There's a distant beeping noise, and it's distorted, like a toy with old batteries. Then, the call ends.

It takes him a second to regain control of himself, but as soon as he does, the car engine roars when he hits the accelerator.

He won't fail him. Not this time.

Hawks is the first person he sees when he storms into the building and heads to the quirk department. He's talking to another guy in a coat and a nurse, nodding along to something she said. Katsuki called him again right after Izuku's call was brutally terminated, and he told him to go straight to the hospital.

"Birdbrain!" He yells as he charges at him, efficiently getting his attention.

He takes a look at Katsuki's unhinged expression and dismisses them with a tilt of his head and a small smile.

"Relax," he says to him as soon as he's within hearing range. "He's here, and he's okay."

"I heard him get kidnapped over the phone!"

"It was the extraction team," Hawks explains. "He was very disoriented and confused and thought it was the villains."

His whole body sags with relief.

"That's insane." He runs his hands over his hair and pulls back; the pain helps ease the anxiety. "What the fuck kind of quirk was he hit with?"

"He's being examined right now, but it seems like it was something entirely psychological. He has no injuries, barely a few scratches. And the suit didn't present any damage."

"Where is he?"

"You can't see him yet. Doctors have to guarantee the quirk won't have further effects. You know the protocol."

"The fuck I can't see him!" Katsuki growls, giving Hawks his meanest glare. "You said it was a mind quirk, so it's not contagious. Take me to him now, or I will—"

"What? Explode the hospital that your boyfriend and many more innocent people are in?" he replies, completely unbothered by the threat and staring at him with a raised brow.

Katsuki's teeth grind hard enough to squeak. "Just let me fucking see him."

"You're first in the list, champ, as soon as the doc clears him."

Hawks is not his boss. But he technically holds certain authority over him since the commission still regulates most hero-related subjects, so, unfortunately, he sort of is his boss. So Katsuki shoots him another killing glare before dropping into the uncomfortable couch by the reception, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking at the wall as he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

"And when the hell is that going to be?"

Hawks doesn't mind his display of irritation one bit. "I'd give it an hour, tops."

Katsuki grunts and lets himself slump further into the cushions.

Hawks snorts and, to Katsuki's dismay, takes a seat next to him.

"I'm sure he knows you're here, Prince Valiant. You two have a sixth sense when it comes to each other. It's sweet, but also extremely weird. More weird than sweet."

Katsuki ignores the comment for the sake of not committing murder. "I knew he shouldn't have gone to that damn mission, but no one gave a shit."

"Bakugou," And Hawks is using that lecturing tone that Katsuki hates so much. He's not that much older than him, and he doesn't appreciate being talked over like a kid. "He's a hero. If there is a job where shit is going to happen, it's this one. You should know that better than anyone. And if there's someone who can't be kept away from unorthodox situations, it's Midoriya. A hell of a combo if you ask me. "

"I'm just not used to it anymore, fuck," he sighs. Seeing Izuku in a hospital bed is one of his least favorite things. "It's not easy to..."

To care.

He quiets down, but Hawks probably knows, given the knowing smirk hes aiming at him.

There was a time when he wondered if they would make it to see another day every time they went out of the dorms in the mornings. There was a time when Izuku was away and constantly in danger, refusing anyone's shoulder to help him bear his burden. Katsuki went to sleep every night not knowing if he'd wake up to find out Izuku had been killed in the middle of the night during his endless battle with evil, playing vigilante when he should have been the proudest hero. Katsuki felt so helpless back then, so angry and scared. And he knows this isn't the same as when they were teenagers living in a war, but he guesses that his brain is having trouble picking apart memories from reality.

It was nice not to worry about the person you love the most being constantly exposed to imminent life-threatening events. But it's selfish of him to wish that to last forever. He doesn't. There is nothing he wishes more than for Izuku to be back out there living his dream, being a hero, being happy. But the two truths can coexist; it's never going to get easier to know Izuku could get hurt. But as Hawks said (ugh, why is he quoting him, what is his life), shit is going to happen, and he can't do anything about it but be ready to step in when Izuku needs him to.

"The heart is a stubborn thing, huh," Hawks nudges.

Tell him about it. Katsuki scoffs. "The hell would you know?"

Hawks chuffs air in a soft laugh. His eyes wander, and he says, "More than you'd think."

"A death delirium quirk?" Katsuki repeats, incredulous.

"Looks like it," the doctor confirms with a nod of her head. "The profile also fits a villain in the area he was targeted in, so it would make sense."

The doctor came to fetch them and deliver the good news: Izuku is stable and out of danger, he's just shaking off the remaining effects of the quirk. They're talking outside of his room, and Katsuki's itching to get inside.

"The quirk induces a state of psychosis that convinces the mind that you're experiencing your final moments. It provokes a profound sense of fear that gradually worsens and keeps the victim from thinking about anything else but the intense emotions they're experiencing, putting them in a state of hallucination in which an irrational paranoia takes over and disables them from functioning normally."

"Thank God we got him out of there," Hawks sighs. "That sounds freaking awful."

"It puts a lot of mental and emotional stress on the victim, yes," the doctor agrees. "But Midoriya-San is strong; he seems to be recovering rather quickly."

"He's been through worse," Katsuki mutters under his breath, low enough for them not to understand. Both the doctor and birdbrain turn to stare at him with questioning looks, but he brushes them off. "When can I see him?"

"He asked for you as soon as he came in," the doctor informs. "I normally wouldn't recommend visits so soon, but…" Her lips curve in a discreet smile, and she throws a glance at Hawks. And seriously? Her too? "I think I can make an exception." She steps away, and the doors of Izuku's room lure him in.

He was going to go in there anyway, exception or not, but that's nice of her.

Katsuki rolls his eyes and takes the invitation to step inside the hospital room.

The blinds are open, bathing the room in a pleasant golden light that makes the room look less gloomy than he expected. Izuku is sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window, back to the door.

Katsuki knows he heard him come in, yet he doesn't turn to meet him.

Quietly, he lets the door click closed behind him. He breathes through his nose and stares ahead towards Izuku's unmoving figure, haloed by the sunlight. He's always thought that Izuku's hair looks stunning in the sun. The shiny strands, showcasing various shades of green, remind him of summer grass, and it makes his lips curl into a privy smile.

"Cat got your tongue?"

The line of Izuku's shoulders tenses when his voice resonates around the place. He shakes his head, curls bouncing softly and brushing the collar of his hospital gown.

"What's got you so quiet, then?" he questions, prowling closer.

"'M not," Izuku mutters, still refusing to look at him. Katsuki stands behind him with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. If not for the gauze on the side of his neck, Izuku seems fine. Barely a few scratches, as Hawks said. He makes a contemplative noise.

"Did the quirk mess you up?"

"I'm alright, Kacchan," Izuku says in a thin voice. "It was just a lot."

"Yeah. Doc explained. Didn't sound like a walk in the park."

Izuku's head drops a bit lower, and his ribcage visibly expands when he takes a deep breath. "Was not. But, you know," he shrugs, not as nonchalantly as he wants to come along, "That's the job."

"I'm not going to lecture you, Izuku," he says. And he wants to see him, so he moves sideways until he can see the side of Izuku's face. "Shit happens. The fact that I was an ass about you taking the mission doesn't mean anything."

"You were right, regardless," he rasps out. His hands tighten into fists above his knees, clasping the fabric. "I wasn't ready, and I screwed up."

Oh, no.

"There's no way you could've known this was going to happen."

"But you did."

Izuku's eyes drag from where they're fixed somewhere between the window and the floor to glance at him before moving away again. The tears don't surprise Katsuki, but they do pain him. And he feels like a dog licking at old wounds, letting the salty water leak into them to feel the sting.

"That's not—," but he stops. He doesn't want to sound angry. Not at Izuku, at least. "It wasn't about that. It could never be about that."

"Then what?" Izuku croaks out. The low murmur of his words is loud in the room that suddenly feels so small.

And if Katsuki has learned something along the years, it's that keeping the truth hidden for the sake of pride will do more damage than going through the mortal shame of confessing one's misjudgments.

"I was being selfish," he admits, breath threatening to hitch in his throat. "It has nothing to do with you. You're a hell of a fucking hero; you could do this shit with your eyes closed. It was more about…" the words cling to his tongue, stubborn like him. It's shameful, this concern of his. And so fucking idiotic. But Izuku is aching because of it, and Katsuki won't be the cause of his self-doubt ever again. "Me being stupid, really."

"Kacchan, don't say that—"

"I was so used to you being tucked safely in that classroom of yours that for a second I got scared of what could happen when you got back out there," he rubs the back of his nape, and grazes the stitches he got there a few weeks ago. How hypocritical of him. "Which is goddamn ridiculous. I wanted you to have the suit so you could do that, so I wasn't expecting to feel like that. I'm sorry it made you feel like I was doubting you, because I wasn't."

Izuku doesn't reply. He just frowns to himself and remains unmoving. And the lack of interaction is severely fucking with Katsuki. He's used to Izuku filling in the silences, not making them. But he returns the quiet with love-earned patience.

"You should have," Izuku's voice breaks, and Katsuki can see his lower lip trembling. It's like a punch to his gut. His eyes are still averted, avoiding Katsuki's relentless stare. Katsuki's frustration grows, simmering beneath his skin, intensifying with every second that Izuku refuses to let him meet his green eyes, where all of Izuku's rawest emotions always swirl like fallen sakura petals in a rushing river.

"Next time will be better," he assures, with a confidence that leaves no room for any argument. "Not everything is under our control, no matter how prepared we think we are. You know how long it took me to accept that, but refusing it never made it less true. It could've been me. Or Icy-Hot, or Shitty Hair. How many shitty quirk incidents heroes don't deal with every day?"

"This was my first mission after 8 years," Izuku speaks in a tremor, voice barely audible. Slowly, his eyes flick up and find him, tears spilling when he blinks. The smile tugging at his lips is as sad as his gaze. "I really wanted to make you proud."

And Katsuki's heart shatters in his ribcage when he meets the large, emerald eyes that have been at the center of his longing for such a long time. It feels like a crime for them to be so heartbroken and wistful, yet they steal the air away from him as they always do.

Katsuki can't take it anymore. He moves so he can stand in front of Izuku.

"You don't have to do anything for me to be proud of you."

Izuku blinks up at him, and his sweet face scrunches up in another repressed cry.

"But I messed it all up. I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, and because of that, I was hit. And now everything is ruined, " Izuku blubbers, shoulders shaking as he tries to keep his sobs quiet.

"A stupid failed mission is not the end of everything."

"That's not what I meant," he grunts, shaking his head in frustration.

"Then what the fuck are you talking about?"

"If I hadn't been hit with that quirk, I wouldn't have called you and told you that I was in love with you!"

Ah.

That.

Katsuki was thinking about addressing it later, when Izuku was much calmer and they weren't in a fucking hospital. But, apparently, a good deal of their most important conversations were destined to happen in hospitals, despite Katsuki's passionate and devoted animosity towards them.

Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek and cocks his head to the side as he stares down at the mess of a nerd in front of him. "And it's not true?"

Izuku gapes at him, blinking in quick succession and staring widely. He goes tight-lipped then, jaw muscles shifting under his tanned skin.

"Of course it's true," he says at last, "but you weren't supposed to know."

Katsuki scowls. "And why the fuck not?"

Izuku's jaw drops. "Are you crazy? You're my best friend! I didn't want to fuck our relationship up!" he exclaims. "We were in such a good place, Kacchan, and I had to go and mess it all up by letting that stupid quirk hit me and make me confess!"

Izuku clearly thinks this is a bad thing. He's acting as if Katsuki will never speak to him again after this, which only confirms how fucking dense that curly head can be because it ain't no goddamn way he doesn't know how head over heels Katsuki is with him. The nerd just needs a little push in the right direction.

"Why did you do it?" Katsuki asks. He sees Izuku frowning, so he rushes to clarify, "I mean, why did you have such a strong urge to tell me that?"

Izuku gives it some thought before replying. "I thought I was dying. I felt this overwhelming fear paralyzing every inch of my body; it felt like the worst anxiety attack I've ever had, just as irrational and intense. Dooming, and nearly maddening. And you… you were the only clarity I had." He pauses, and his eyes lose focus for a bit. His pupils go from one side to the other under slightly furrowed brows. His voice is quiet with realization when he says, "I just couldn't stand the thought of you never knowing how much I loved you."

Izuku could never have returned his feelings, and Katsuki would've still died with his heart completely devoted to him. Yet, as he watches Izuku with half-lidded eyes and the ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips, he feels thankful for the opportunity to give himself to the man he loves without any ties anymore.

Izuku studies him with a questioning look.

"Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"There's nothing to freak out about," he casually says. "You're in love with me, I'm in love with you, it's not that damn hard. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about this."

The green eyes fixed on him comically widen, and the blatant shock on his face is staggeringly satisfying to Katsuki, who has never grown out of enjoying being a little mean to his best friend and always gets an itch scratched from putting him in difficult situations.

He doesn't give him a chance to recover when he's already leaning down and getting in Izuku's personal space, grabbing his face with both hands to make sure he won't try to get away. His thumbs press his plump cheeks, making his lips purse slightly outwards. He looks so silly, and dumbfounded, and adorable, and Katsuki can do nothing but look down at him with nothing but fondness and the most disgustingly loving infatuation brimming out of him. He's close enough to hear Izuku's rabbit breathing, nostrils mildly flaring as he gawks up at him with his eyes still shaped wide.

He closes in and gets rid of the scarce inches left between them, head tilted slenderly to the side when his lips all but brush Izuku's.

He looks him in the eye.

"Stop assuming shit, nerd."

And that's all the warning he gives before closing the distance separating their mouths.

Izuku makes a surprised little sound from his throat that vibrates against Katsuki's lips, and his hands search to grab onto Katsuki's wrists. But he's not pushing him away, he's squeezing, denting his fingers into his skin as if he forgets he's still stronger than most. Katsuki smirks into his mouth, then moves his lips to fit them against Izuku's as he presses closer. He doesn't let go of his face, thumbs setting above the strong bone of his jaw and feeling the movement every time their lips brush in gentle strokes. It's slow, and unhurried, and so intense at the same time. It makes Katsuki's whole body tingle from just a little point of touch that connects them so intimately, and Izuku must feel it too, because he shivers in his hands.

The wet smacking sounds would make him cringe if coming from anyone else, but they are just adding fuel to the fire now because it's them. It's their lips that are grazing and pressing, and then coming apart just to find the way back to each other with renewed vigor, making them sigh, bite, and lick. It's always different when it's Izuku. No one else could ever make Katsuki feel like he does. The warm ball of light in his chest is overwhelming in the best way, and he bets you anyone could see the light seeping from his pores.

He licks Izuku's lower lip, and he opens his mouth for him, allowing their tongues to meet and mold against each other, deepening the kiss in turn. Izuku whines softly when the kiss becomes needy, and his legs wrap around Katsuki's hips. Katsuki moves his hands to the back of his head, holding him by the nape so their bodies are flush together, fingers entangled in fluffy curls, and Izuku's hands migrate to clasp the front of his shirt. Their chest expands with each choked breath they manage to suck in between kisses, and he feels Izuku's ankles digging into the back of his legs. It's like he can't get him close enough, and God, Katsuki understands the feeling.

They come apart chuffing out labored breaths, a thread of spit keeping their lips connected for some seconds before it snaps.

"You like me?" Izuku, always the motormouth, asks.

"I love you, idiot." As if it isn't obvious (and has been for many years). But what the hell, sure, he can give the nerd some verbal confirmation if it gives him peace of mind. "And fuck you."

"What? Why!?" Izuku protests, frowning at him. Katsuki can't take it seriously after having his tongue in his mouth. His soft, soft mouth.

"For having to be hit with a lame ass quirk to tell me!"

"I was scared!"

"I thought you were dying! And that you got fucking kidnapped!"

Izuku winces at that. "Um, yeah. I can imagine that sounded bad on the phone, huh?" He nervously chuckles. "I didn't know it was Hawks' team. Sorry."

Katsuki rolls his eyes more fondly than he'd like to admit. "You're a dumbass."

"You can't kiss me and then insult me," Izuku complains with a pout. But it only takes him one look at Katsuki's wolfish grin to know that, yes, he can, and that's exactly what's going to happen from now on. Izuku huffs, but the playful curve of the corners of his lips that he tries to subdue doesn't go unnoticed by Katsuki.

"What happened to your neck?"

"Oh," Izuku touches the gauze on the side of his neck and bites his lip. "They might or might not have had to sedate me. That's where they could insert the shot better."

"For fucks sake," Katsuki barks out a laugh with his head thrown back. "You gave them hell then?"

"Maybe a little."

Katsuki snorts, then kisses Izuku's temple in an impulse. Izuku grows quite red fairly quickly after, and Katsuki doesn't know how normal it is to want to eat your boyfriend.

Wait. Are they…?

He takes another look at Izuku, who's fiddling with his fingers and trying not to mind the heat on his face. He seems happy, with a little smile brightening his features. But he also looks a tad tired.

Katsuki will spare him for now. They have all the time in the world to talk about their relationship later.

"Are you tired?"

Izuku pauses, then slowly nods. "Yeah. I didn't sleep much before the mission, and the whole experience was pretty exhausting."

"Nap, then." It could seem like a suggestion, but Izuku identifies the imperativeness in his tone. He flusters even more because he knows how much Katsuki cares. "I'll go talk to Hawks about—"

"Lay down with me," Izuku cuts in, staring at him with huge, pleading eyes that Katsuki stands no chance against.

He quirks his brows up and he shoots him a teasing smirk.

"I kiss you once and you can't get enough of me, nerd?"

"Oh, shut up."

Izuku catches him by surprise when he uses the grip of his legs to pull him into the bed with him. Katsuki gasps, half a curse stuck on his lips as he falls into the stiff hospital mattress next to Izuku, who effectively traps him in a hug as the little spoon. Izuku tightens all of his limbs around him like a bulky koala, and Katsuki accepts his fate.

He's about to complain just for show when he feels Izuku's forehead pressing between his shoulder blades, warm breath causing goosebumps on his skin.

"Stay, Kacchan," he mumbles faintly, lips brushing his back.

Yeah. He'll stay forever if Izuku lets him.

He grabs Izuku's hand and presses a soft kiss to the back. He doesn't let go of it.

"Sleep, Izuku."

"I'd like to keep him in observation overnight, just in case," the doctor says when they reach Izuku's room.

"Sure, doc, do what you need to do," Hawks concedes. "I was going to tell him to take it easy, anyway. He doesn't know how to sit still."

"Yeah, I know," the doctor chuckles, "Many of the staff working here now tended to him after the war. And Bakugou-San, too. They terrorized nurses and doctors left and right."

"Oh, believe me, I remember," he says, recalling all the times the nurses yelled at them for sneaking out of their beds and into each other's rooms. They had to let them share one in the end. "They put me in the same wing they were in, and let me tell you, it was never a boring day."

"I can imagine that—"

When she slides the door open, the sight strikes them silent.

There, snuggled up together in the tiny hospital bed, lay Bakugou Katsuki and Izuku Midoriya. A mess of tangled limbs and soft snores welcomes them into the room, and the Doctor and he have to exchange glances to confirm that what they're seeing is correct.

Their legs are knotted together and bent awkwardly so they can fit them in the bed. Izuku's head is resting on Katsuki's wide chest, drooling into his shirt as he lets out soft snores. Katsuki has his arm tightly wrapped around Izuku's middle, head propped on the pillow, and his mouth slightly parted open, dead to the world with Izuku all over him.

Hawks has to muffle a laugh behind his hand when he hears the doctor let out a long sigh.

He guesses some things never change.