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It happened in a split second.
And this time, that instance meant the difference between life and death.
Izuku stumbled, his vision wavering as he tried to make out the figure in front of him. The girl was still there - unconscious and curled up on the floor, but uninjured. He looked to the other end of the warehouse, where only the bottom half of the villain was visible underneath the pile of rubble from when Izuku had thrown him into the wall.
He won.
Didn’t he?
Izuku coughed, the all-too-familiar taste of iron in his mouth as he fell back against the wall. His legs finally gave out and he slid down onto the floor, fighting to clear the black spots that flickered at the edge of his vision. He felt so heavy. It hurt to take in a breath, the sensation tight in his chest every time he tried. Of course it did. He glanced down, fighting down the urge to throw up when he caught sight of the jagged pieces of metal buried in his stomach.
It was a Metal Manipulation Quirk. At first, Izuku had no problems countering against the rods and pipes that were thrown his way. One For All let him defend easier, avoid the crucial shots. But then the villain turned his attention towards the little girl on the ground, the one he’d kidnapped in his haste to secure a clear escape from authorities before Izuku had tracked him down. Izuku only had seconds to react; he didn’t have enough time to move her out of the way, and his body moved in front to shield her from them instead. Pure adrenaline had been the only thing that prevented him from being blindsided by the pain when the metal dug into his body, and he took the chance to leap forward and send the villain flying before they could attack once more. In reality, the whole battle might have lasted less than a minute.
Izuku hissed out a breath, hands tentative where they brushed against where metal met skin. He shouldn’t pull them out. Not now. His hands were stained red when he moved them away, but he forced himself to ignore it as he strained to dig into his pocket for his phone. By some stroke of luck, it was still intact, save for the cracked screen, making it easy for him to contact the proper authorities. It didn’t take long for the call to go through, the operator’s voice smooth and collected as they recited the line he’d heard many times over.
“This is Deku. Apprehended a villain in Kizu Warehouse outside Hosu City. There’s a child here, but she’s safe.” Izuku grimaced at the sudden pressure in his stomach, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Requesting medical assistance as well.”
Thankfully, the operator seemed to have a quick understanding of the situation, and she assured him that both the police and an ambulance were on the way. That was all the confirmation Izuku needed, and he offered a curt thanks before he hung up. It was bad practice; he knew better than to hang up before reinforcements arrived, but he was running out of time. Each passing second felt like a time bomb and it only added to the mounting fear that he would be too late.
His vision grew blurred - he wasn’t sure if it was from tears or the blood loss - as he pressed at his phone and dialed another number. And then he waited, desperate as he listened to the phone ring. There was a buzzing in his ears, a distant static that filled his senses and threatened to drown out his surroundings. He gripped at the phone with a strength he didn’t know he still had, unable to relax until he finally heard the call connect.
“The fuck are you calling me for, Deku, aren’t you still at work?”
His voice was enough to send a wave of relief through Izuku, enough to lift a bit of the unbearable weight that had made a home in his chest. Izuku let out a slight laugh, breathless and exhausted. “Kacchan,” he said, so overwhelmed he was with the sudden sense of calm he felt simply from hearing the man speak. For just a moment, nothing seemed to hurt.
There was a pause before Katsuki responded, more suspicious this time. “Is something wrong, nerd?”
Izuku could’ve cried at that. Because of course he knew. Could tell something was off with just one word. After all these years, they were open books to each other, bared to the bone and transparent as could be. He tried to sit up more, but the movement sent a wave of stabbing needles through his body, and he bit his lip to keep any sound from escaping. Damn, it hurt.
“Deku,” Katsuki was speaking again, impatience mixed in his tone. “Fucking talk to me.”
“Nothing, I just…” A bout of nausea struck him, and he shut his eyes in an attempt to shove it down. “Just wanted to hear your voice, Kacchan.”
“That’s bullshit, you hear my voice every damn day.” Katsuki pressed. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He couldn’t lie. Not to Katsuki. It was impossible even if he wanted to. And in this situation, he wished he could. Anything to escape the reality of the situation that began to consume his thoughts. “I fought a villain,” Izuku said, determined to keep the strain out of his voice. Even still, he couldn’t keep out the slight waver in his voice. “It’s over now, but I… It doesn’t look too good.”
There was a heavy silence, and Izuku could only imagine the sort of expression Katsuki wore at the moment. A small and guilty part of Izuku was glad that he wasn’t there to see it. There was a rustling over the line before Katsuki spoke once more, hard and tense. “Tell me where you are. Right now.”
“No,” Izuku said, grimacing when another spasm of pain flared across his torso. “I already called the authorities, and they’re on the way. I don’t… I don’t want you to see this.”
“I don’t fucking care, Deku,” Katsuki snapped, the sound of a door slamming shut behind him. “ Tell me .”
Something caught in Izuku’s throat - probably blood - and he felt his body instinctively seize up in an attempt to cough it out. The harsh movements had the metal dig more painfully into his skin, and he couldn’t stop the groans that escaped between his coughs. He forced a hand on his stomach to keep the metal steady, knowing it would be a death sentence if any of them became dislodged. He’d bleed out in seconds, and he’d lose any of the time he had left. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear Katsuki’s voice filter in, loud and urgent even with the receiver halfway from his ear.
“--ku, fucking listen to me! Where are you?!”
Izuku fell limp against the wall, ragged breaths loud against his ears. He wondered how long it had been since he called the police. How long until they got here? He could feel the blood underneath him, warm where it pooled against the ground and his body. Katsuki was the only thing that tethered him, the last anchor tying him to consciousness. He listened to Katsuki yell, and felt terrible that he could find consolation in his voice even then.
“I love you, Kacchan,” Izuku managed, trembling. Katsuki immediately went silent at his words, and Izuku missed hearing him speak already. He wanted to see him. Wanted to be in his arms, not stuck in the cold confines of a warehouse. “I love you so much.”
“Fuck that,” Katsuki replied, his words finally starting to shake. “Don’t say that shit to me now, Deku. Say it when you see me.”
“It’s just in case--”
“ No . There’s no ‘just in case’. You’re gonna say it to my damn face.” There was a hint of anger to Katsuki’s voice now, growing with each word. “I’ll never fucking forgive you if you give up like this, never . You’re not dying. I won’t let you.”
Izuku tried to swallow past the lump of tears that formed in his throat, his feeble attempt at keeping his composure quickly crumbling to pieces. “Kacchan--”
“So don’t fucking act like you’re already about to--”
“I don’t want to die,” Izuku said, choking on a sob. “I don’t .” His tears were blazing hot where they tracked down his cheeks. He felt so cold. He shouldn’t feel that cold. “I want to…” He sucked in another breath, feeling the way it rattled achingly in his lungs. “I want to go home.”
It hurt. It all hurt so much.
Every time his eyes fell shut, he could see their apartment, small and hidden, a perfect fit when the two of them had come across it. He could see the familiar All Might figurines adorning the top of their TV in the living room whenever he’d come through the door, a haphazard mixture from both of their precious collections. He could see Katsuki, his expression softening into something more as he greeted him and told him to wash up for dinner.
“I wanna go home, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, left with nothing but desperation and pure exhaustion.
“... Deku,” Katsuki finally said, and he sounded just as broken as Izuku did. It was a terrible sound, so unlike Katsuki that it only made him feel worse. “Izuku, listen to me. You’re coming home. Just tell me where you are. I’ll bring you back. You know I will.”
Izuku huffed out a laugh, the sensation painful in his chest for more reasons than one. “Haha, yeah… Kacchan’s amazing.” He mumbled, more to himself than anything. Crying had taken the last of Izuku’s energy, and he slumped further towards the ground, hand limp as the cell phone slipped out of his hand. He heard it clatter onto the ground, a muffled noise past the throbbing in his ears. He needed to keep talking or else Katsuki would get even more worried. He knew, but it hurt too much to move, hurt too much to breathe. He shuddered out another breath, feeling it leave him in a weak exhale.
There was another noise now. Sirens? He couldn’t be sure; for all he knew, it was a cruel trick his mind thought up in its last few moments of frantic hope. A dream. But the ground seemed to rumble beneath him, a steady rhythm until he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked at the contact, eyes fluttering back open, yet he could barely make anything out. When had his vision gotten so dark? There were shadows flitting in front of him, and he couldn’t tell what they were. Another hand, this time brushing against the wound on his stomach.
Tired. He was so tired.
Izuku let his eyes fall back shut, flashes of blonde hair and crimson eyes lingering in his mind until his world finally went black.
Izuku remembered the day Katsuki first kissed him.
It was the day he got accepted to the Hero agency he applied for, a day he’d been waiting for with restless anxiety. His top choice, both in terms of location and learning experience. Izuku had been more than excited, quick to send out a text to his mom on the good news. Katsuki had gotten accepted to his own preferred agency a few days prior, so this week was a happy occasion for them both. Both of them now one step closer to their goal of becoming the best Pro Hero.
Izuku didn’t text Katsuki about the news, though. He opted to stop by the grocery store instead, picking up a pack of beer they both enjoyed before he headed straight for the blonde’s apartment. This was something he wanted to share in person. And when Katsuki opened the door - a small smirk on his face when he spotted Izuku and the drinks - he stepped aside to let him in without a word. Because he knew. It was nice, the way they could understand each other so easily.
Izuku was full of energy before he even stepped inside, talking a mile a minute about the interview, the tour, the other Heros who worked at the agency. He settled the alcohol on the counter, turning to Katsuki with a huge smile. “What do you wanna eat for dinner, Kacchan? It’ll be my treat.”
Katsuki had been silent ever since Izuku arrived, something akin to fondness on his expression as he let Izuku ramble. It was almost unbelievable, how things between them had changed. By the time they’d graduated high school, they were nearly inseparable, close friends that were a formidable pair both in and out of work. No one would’ve been able to guess how rocky their relationship had been years ago.
And when Izuku had finally calmed down enough to turn towards him, the question still halfway out of his mouth, Katsuki stepped forward, one hand curling around the back of Izuku’s neck before he pulled him into a kiss.
Izuku only froze up for a split second, thoughts haywire before he immediately melted, hands reaching up to grip at the front of Katsuki’s shirt in an attempt to tug them closer. This was unexpected - that was for sure - but Izuku wouldn’t complain, because God, it was Kacchan, he’d been wanting this for years. Katsuki was just as enthusiastic, his other hand warm where it lay at the small of Izuku’s back to keep them pressed together, a steady support.
He couldn’t have wished for anything more than this.
By the time they pulled apart, Izuku was breathless, heart rabbiting in his chest with a joy he didn’t know he could feel. It filled him to the brim, a sense of awe and something right that shook his very core. He looked up, stars dancing in his eyes, and wondered if he was dreaming it all. It felt too good to be true.
“What was that for?” Izuku asked, a smile still stretched on his face.
Katsuki looked smug at that, one eyebrow raised in question. “A congratulations.” He stared carefully, the hand on Izuku’s neck moving down so that they both wrapped around Izuku’s waist. Izuku only hummed in return, a happy sound that brought a flicker of amusement in the blonde’s eyes. “This okay, nerd?”
Izuku laughed at that, bright and loud even as he wrapped his arms around Katsuki to return the hug. “More than okay,” he said. Arms gripped him back just as tightly, and for a moment, everything was perfect. Indescribably perfect. They spent the rest of the evening huddled in front of the TV, drinking and eating fried chicken that they’d ordered from their favorite restaurant. And when it was time for Izuku to leave, Katsuki didn’t hesitate to give him a kiss goodbye. Nothing needed to be said to describe the natural progression of their relationship.
They knew, and that was enough.
Izuku remembered the day Katsuki first told him he loved him.
Both of them had been called out to assist a neighborhood that had been struck by a series of fires. Rescuing any trapped civilians was top priority, and it didn’t take long for the chaos of it all to split the two of them up as they scoured for any people in need of help. Izuku had been running down the street when a lady approached him, near hysterical as she told him her son was still trapped inside one of the burning homes.
It was a risky situation; a large majority of the house was already falling apart, its very foundation threatening to crumble at any moment. Izuku had no time. He dashed inside as fast as his Quirk would allow him, the mother’s screams still fresh in his mind. The smoke stung at his lungs and the heat scorched at any exposed skin, but he shoved it all down, his senses zeroed in on the distant sobs of a child he heard through the crackling of the flames.
He found the boy huddled under the kitchen table, and Izuku had barely gathered the kid in his arms when the floors shuddered, the house giving a large groan as the last of the ceiling began to cave in. Luckily, Izuku had already braced himself for the possibility, kicking away a large portion of the roof before it hit them, fast enough to avoid certain death. But he couldn’t dodge them all, especially with someone in his arms. And so he turned towards the ground instead, crouching down in an attempt to at least shield the child from any of the falling debris. It was a miracle none of the rubble hit his head, but his back took a fair beating, rocks sharp and scalding where it ripped through his uniform. Izuku hissed out a breath and waited for a lull in the destruction before he took the chance to jump through the newly made opening.
He was quick to take the child to an officer stationed outside, the mother beside herself with relief as she thanked him. Even as he peered down the street, he could see others scrambling away from the flames, waving their hands and desperately yelling for assistance. He ignored a passing medic’s suggestions for treatment and dashed down the street once more; he needed to make sure there weren’t any others who were trapped or needed help.
It was a long process of search and rescue, and by the end of it all, Izuku was drained. After escorting the final civilian to a nearby officer, he stumbled over to the hasty medical tent that had been set up, no longer protesting when a different medic began to fuss over the wounds on his back. His lungs still burned from the smoke, but it was manageable. He grimaced when the medic began to rub disinfectant on his injuries, quick to apply medicine and wrap them up in bandages that peeked out past the tattered remains of his uniform.
Izuku sat there for some time, regaining his bearings as he watched the bustle of people around him. Heroes and civilians alike filled his vision, but his eyes were busy searching for one. And after a few more attempts, Izuku called over an officer who passed by, hands tight around the blanket someone had draped around him.
“Has anyone seen Ground Zero?” Izuku asked, grimacing at the way the words scraped in his throat, still raw from the smoke.
The officer shook his head, grim. “We lost communication with him a while ago. He hasn’t returned yet.” His eyes widened when Izuku attempted to stand, ushering him to settle back down. “A handful of the Pro Heros have yet to return. The lot of them are doing perimeter checks to make sure everything is alright. It’s best not to jump to conclusions.”
After a long moment, Izuku relaxed back onto the bench, face stiff as he nodded. Right, everything would be fine. It had to be fine. So he waited. And waited. And as time passed, he could only feel his worry melting into anxiety. All he could picture was the moment the roof had nearly come crashing down on him, when each cell in his body had been alight with panic and adrenaline. Had he reacted a second later, it might have been too late, and he and the child could have been buried alive, their chances of survival substantially lowered given the circumstances.
Every call he made to Katsuki went unanswered, every text unread, only compounding the paranoia that built up inside him. And 30 minutes later, Izuku had run out of patience, blanket discarded as he got to his feet. He’d make a lap around the neighborhood himself. He knew the general location Katsuki had headed towards, so he’d start there. Izuku grimaced at the way the bandages tugged at his skin once he straightened out, but before he could take another step forward, he found himself frozen to the spot, eyes caught on the very person he’d been looking for.
Katsuki stood not too far away, weary as he handed the mangled remains of his communicator over to a baffled officer. Brushes of soot marked his face, bits of his hair still singed and frayed. But he was safe. He was alive. Katsuki froze in the same manner when he spotted Izuku, but he was the first to snap out of his daze, quick as he made his way over. They were only mere inches apart now, Katsuki’s hands gentle where they cupped at Izuku’s face. He stared, brow furrowing at what he found.
“You’re injured, nerd,” Katsuki said, gaze dropping down to the visible pieces of bandaging. His eyes widened when Izuku began to tear up, concern quick to turn into confusion. “Deku, what the fuck--”
“I was so scared,” Deku babbled, pressing his face further into Katsuki’s hands. They were warm - maybe from the remnants from his Quirk or the exposure to the fires. Maybe both. “I know you tell me not to worry, but no one heard from you for so long and I just... “ He sucked in a breath and shut his eyes, willing himself to calm down. It was fine. They were fine. “Sorry, I’m overreacting again.”
Katsuki was silent for a long moment, thumb tender where it brushed away at a stray tear. Izuku savored it, comforted by Katsuki’s mere presence, his panic ebbing away like a receding tide. “Worried, huh?” Katsuki mumbled. Izuku opened his eyes, catching the frown on the blonde’s face. “How the fuck do you think I feel when I find you like this, covered in blood and wounds?”
Izuku was silent, only sniffling in response. There wasn’t much to argue there. After all, the both of them were much too aware of the fact that Izuku had no qualms about sacrificing his own self when it came to helping others. It was an argument that they’d had one too many times. And Izuku knew it was dangerous. He knew, and Katsuki understood that just as much.
Katsuki looped an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, careful as he pulled him into a hug. “I’ll take care of myself, so you do the same. You’ve gotten enough injuries to last a damn lifetime.” He nuzzled at the top of Izuku’s head, speaking into his curls. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t leave you behind, Deku. And that means you can’t leave me either.”
Izuku buried his face against Katsuki’s shoulder, muffling a sob that had made his way out his throat. “I’m sorry,” Izuku said, even as he reveled in Katsuki’s scent, burnt caramel mixed with lingering bits of smoke. “I love you, Kacchan.”
Katsuki brushed at the back of Izuku’s neck, infinitely careful. “... Love you too, nerd.”
Wait. What?
Izuku froze at that, stunned enough that the tears stopped as he glanced up. “You…” He stammered, eyes wide. “That’s the first time you’ve said it.”
Truly, it was a surprise. While Izuku was never shy to voice his endearment towards the blonde, Katsuki was the type to receive it in silence. He much rather preferred to show his affection through physical gestures, and Izuku was more than alright with it. So hearing him finally say it back was a shock. A happy one, but a shock nonetheless.
Katsuki, however, seemed unfazed by the revelation. He merely grinned, reaching up to poke at Izuku’s forehead. “Won’t be the last time, either. As long as you behave.” He grabbed at Izuku’s shoulders, pushing him back enough to get a better look. “How bad are your injuries? Do you still need to get treated?”
Izuku shook his head, still dazed by the turn of events, but he took the chance to give Katsuki a brief once-over. “I’ll be fine. Are you good, Kacchan?” It was a baseless question - if Katsuki had been injured even a little bit, Izuku would’ve been able to tell. After all, Izuku’s known Katsuki long enough to identify every facial expression, every behavior that gave way to something off.
As expected, Katsuki shook off his worries with a snort. “I just need to fucking shower. Feel gross as shit. You can’t shower, with your fucking bandages and all, so you’re getting a sponge bath.” He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to Izuku’s lips before he straightened up and reached for Izuku’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
Home.
Their home.
Izuku wouldn’t have had it any other way.
All Izuku could see was Kacchan.
Kacchan, loud and unyielding and overwhelming all at once.
Kacchan, whose sharp edges softened just a bit when he was around his friends and family.
Kacchan, bright and incredible out on the field, expression fueled with a hunger for victory.
Kacchan, quiet and gentle when it was just the two of them, their hushed conversations mingled with the night where they lay in the comforts of their bed. Kacchan, who trusted Izuku enough to lay bare his insecurities in those rare moments of vulnerability. Kacchan, who finally allowed Izuku past the steep walls he’d built around himself, a safe haven for just the two of them.
It was always Kacchan.
Izuku awoke to a white ceiling, the lights harsh against his eyes. He squinted against it, mind struggling to reorient itself as he took in a tremulous breath. It didn’t take long before the familiar scent of disinfectant hit him, a heart monitor steady as it beeped in the background. A hospital. He bit back a groan when he tried to move, body stiff and aching in disagreement before he could even try.
His senses came back to him slowly, and for a while, he simply laid there, breathing through the oxygen mask that covered half his face. He was alive. He could feel himself sore all over, but he was alive. He was suddenly conscious of a weight on his right side, and when he managed to turn his head, all of his ache seemed to disappear in an instant.
Katsuki was there, asleep where he sat slumped against the side of the bed, one hand still tight where it grasped at Izuku’s. He looked a mess, hair disheveled and dark bags prominent against his pale skin. It didn’t look to be a restful sleep; there was a hint of a furrow in his brow even as he dozed. It was a stark contrast to the peaceful expressions Izuku had grown used to seeing in the morning, on days where they were both lucky enough to sleep in and relax.
Even then, Izuku found him beautiful.
Tears pressed at the back of Izuku’s eyes the longer he stared, overwhelmed with the sudden sense of relief that flooded his body. He never thought he would see him again, never thought he’d be able to feel again. It was too much and too little, a flurry of emotions that threatened to burst out of him in a tidal wave.
Izuku tried to squeeze at Katsuki’s hand, but he only managed a slight twitch of his fingers. It was surprising, just how weak he felt. Yet despite that, Katsuki still startled at the miniscule movement, immediately jolting upwards as he looked towards Izuku with wide eyes, ones that grew wider when he found Izuku staring right back.
“Deku?” Katsuki whispered, still hoarse from sleep. The tears slipped past Izuku’s eyes, tracing down his face, and Katsuki scrambled to his feet, hand still tight around Izuku’s as he slammed at the call button on the side of the bed. He never tore his gaze away, as if afraid Izuku would disappear the moment he did. “Holy fuck, you--”
“K-Kacc--” It took a world of effort to speak, the words scraping against his throat as he tried to call his name. “Kacchan,” Izuku finally managed, muffled as it was against the mask. He continued to cry, ignoring the ache in his bones as he reached his other arm out, extended towards Katsuki in a desperate motion. He needed to touch, needed to feel him. Anything to tell him this was real.
Katsuki’s expression crumbled before he leaned down, careful to avoid the mess of wires, and wrapped up Izuku as best he could. It must have been uncomfortable, the way he was bent over, but Katsuki paid no mind to it. He held onto Izuku as if he’d never let go, hands tight where they grabbed onto his hospital gown. Izuku’s muscles ached at the sudden shift position, but he couldn’t be more grateful for it.
It meant he was alive.
He was alive .
“Kacchan,” Izuku repeated, too overwhelmed to say anything else. Katsuki curled forward at his name, face buried in the curve of Izuku’s shoulder. He was trembling - or maybe it was the both of them. They stayed like that, refusing to part until the nurse stormed into the room, stunned when she spotted Izuku awake and moving. She’d been quick to call for the doctor, and it didn’t take long until the room was filled with medical staff.
Izuku learned he’d been unconscious for a week, sent straight to the ICU the moment he arrived in the ambulance. His heart had stopped on the way to the hospital, and he was clinically dead for 4 minutes before the medic had finally been able to resuscitate him. Given the critical state he’d been in, it was much too close a call. “You should consider yourself very lucky,” the doctor said. “Had the ambulance arrived any later, you might have never woken up.”
The rest of the conversation didn’t take much longer once the nurse completed her examinations and explained the plan of care. They’d keep an eye on him in the hospital for a few more days to make sure he was stable before they determined his discharge date. Izuku listened to it all, mind a fuzzy haze as he tried to process the information that was dumped on him. Part of him was glad Katsuki was there with him to comprehend their words. The blonde hadn’t released his hand ever since the others arrived, thumb tender where it brushed over Izuku’s knuckles in a constant motion. His grip had tightened at the doctor’s last words, expression grim the rest of the conversation.
And when it was just the two of them again, Katsuki turned his attention back onto Izuku, the worry in his eyes shifting into something more vulnerable. He lifted his free hand, fingers ghosting over Izuku’s torso, where it was covered with layers of bandages. It didn’t hurt as much as he expected, but Izuku figured it was because he was loaded to the brim with pain medication. In all honesty, he was surprised he was still lucid.
By the time Katsuki met his gaze once more, it was with a hardened glare.
“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” he said, a bite to his words. Not too harsh, but enough to make a point. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” Izuku mumbled, gripping at Katsuki’s hand as best he could. Even with all of his concentration, it felt like he could still only manage a small squeeze. “I just… I panicked and--”
“How the fuck do you think I felt,” Katsuki cut in, tense. “When you called me, said all that shit, and then suddenly cut off? You wouldn’t even tell me where you were, and--” He hissed out a breath, running a hand across his face. “Jesus, Deku.”
“I know,” Izuku felt miserable the more he listened, the guilt heavy in his chest. He turned his head as best he could, never taking his eyes away from Katsuki as he spoke. “I know. It was stupid.”
“No, you don’t know,” Katsuki snapped, a flicker of anger in his eyes now. He leaned forward, fingers light as they brushed back some of the stray hair from Izuku’s forehead despite the edge to his tone. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you behind, and I told you that you don’t get to leave me either. It’s me and you now.” His expression dipped into something more somber, almost pained. “I’m not gonna live in a fucking world without you. You got that, damn nerd?”
For a second, Izuku could only stare, the words stuck in his throat. Because they were heroes. Their line of work was dangerous, full of uncertainties and slip ups that can turn a small mission into something lethal. Just like what Izuku had experienced days ago. It was inevitable for heroes to experience loss, whether it be a civilian or a teammate. A fact the both of them were chillingly aware of.
“And don’t even try to fucking argue me on what I said,” Katsuki continued before Izuku could even formulate a reply. He moved his gaze downwards, onto the bed where their hands were still interlocked. “Cause if it were me in your position right now, you’d be saying the same damn thing.”
It was painful, the way Katsuki’s words seemed to brand themselves in Izuku’s chest. The implication threatened to suffocate him, and he was suddenly caught by the realization of how wrong he’d been. So very wrong. Because Katsuki was right. Izuku couldn’t fathom a world without Katsuki. Wouldn’t even think about it. A loss like that would leave him broken, and no amount of time would be able to heal it. The mere idea of it left an unbearable weight on his chest, squeezing until there was nothing of him left.
How hypocritical he was, truly.
“You’re right,” was all Izuku could say. There was nothing for him to argue. He swallowed down the tears and fought to keep his voice steady. “I’m sorry, Kacchan.”
All at once, Katsuki seemed to deflate at Izuku’s words, a slight huff escaping him as he reached out once more to wipe at his tears. “Stop fuckin’ crying,” he murmured. “And stop apologizing. If you get it, then it’s fine.”
For a long moment, they both sat there, basking in each other’s presence, and as Izuku watched Katsuki, he could only wonder how it was that he could ever imagine losing him. It just wasn’t possible. Katsuki was silent while he fiddled with Izuku’s hand, the tension leaking from his shoulders with each passing second. And when he finally spoke, it was with a hushed murmur.
“I love you, Deku,” he glanced up, a sudden softness to his expression that Izuku rarely saw. Izuku was still, eyes wide and stunned at the words. “So much it’s fuckin’ embarrassing.” The slightest of red began to tinge the tip of Katsuki’s ears, and he looked away with a click of his tongue. “So you can’t go dying before me.”
God, Izuku loved him so much.
“You can’t tell me to stop crying and then say stuff like that,” Izuku said, voice wobbly.
Katsuki snorted at the statement, but it was enough for him to look back and let their eyes meet again. He relaxed against the bed, his other hand propped under his chin as he stared at Izuku with an adoration that made his chest flutter. “I’ll let it slide this once, nerd.” He said. “Just hurry up and get better so you can get out of this shithole. I’m sick of hospital food.”
“Okay,” Izuku managed, sniffling. “I love you, Kacchan.”
“I know.”
“Way more than you do.”
“Fucking doubt that.”
“It’s true.”
“Yeah, yeah. You feeling okay? Need some more pain meds yet? Or some water?”
Izuku shook his head, smiling when Katsuki stood up to grab the pitcher of water anyways. It was amazing, the fact that he could feel so content even while he was stuck in a hospital bed. He watched Katsuki pour out a glass, swearing under his breath when a bit splashed over the edge and onto the table. The room felt warm, sun bright where it crept in past the exposed bits of the curtain and danced along parts of his blanket.
For a moment, Izuku let his eyes fall shut, blowing out a breath as he relished in all of the little sensations. He was grateful, so grateful, that he didn’t lose this.
Fingers brushed into his hair before they cupped at the side of his face, and Izuku opened his eyes to find Katsuki leaning over him, not bothering to hide the worry from his expression. Izuku merely shook his head and smiled.
He was alive. That was all that mattered.
When Izuku found himself in front of his apartment a week later, he let out a sigh of relief. It felt like it had been ages since he’d last been here. Felt like ages since he’d been able to move normally. He unlocked the door and held it open for Katsuki, who had refused to let Izuku carry anything on the trip back from the hospital. It was a needless precaution - the hospital deemed him recovered enough to go home, only warning him against putting any heavy strain on his body for a week or two. His agency also insisted he take a few more days off to rest at home, one that Izuku finally accepted after numerous failed attempts to convince them otherwise.
It was comforting to walk back inside their apartment, the familiar sight enough to bring a wide smile to his face. He slipped his shoes off, stretching his arms over his head as he followed Katsuki into the living room.
“Do you have work tomorrow, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, leaning down to help unpack the duffel bag of toiletries and clothes that Katsuki had used during his stay at the hospital.
“Nah, I asked for it off.” Katsuki rummaged through a smaller bag and peered at the label of one of the medications Izuku had been sent home with. “Do you want katsudon for dinner?”
Izuku perked up at that, his stomach already growling at the prospect of actual food. Especially when it was Katsuki’s home cooking. “Really? That would be amazing!” He nearly ran towards the fridge, peeking inside as he made a note of the ingredients they had. “We’re missing some stuff, though. Let’s stop by the market real quick. I can make us those brownies we like for dessert, too.”
“Deku,” Katsuki called.
Izuku had been too caught up in his thoughts to hear Katsuki, hand still perched on the door of the fridge as he pondered. “If we’re going to the store, we might as well buy everything else we need,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Are we out of detergent yet? I think we were almost out of shampoo, too, and--”
“ Deku .”
Izuku froze, finally turning to spot Katsuki standing in the entryway to the kitchen. He wore a bemused expression on his face that softened once their eyes met, and he held out his arms in an open invitation. “C’mere,” he said.
The smile came easy to Izuku’s face as he shut the fridge, walking into Katsuki’s arms like he’d done so many times before. He felt himself reflexively relax once Katsuki wrapped his arms around his back, tugging him as close as he could. He’d missed this. So much. Izuku relished the contact, his hands gripping at the back of Katsuki’s shirt like a lifeline. It felt so nice to be holding each other again in the comforts of their apartment.
Katsuki sighed, nuzzling his face in the crook of Izuku’s neck. “Welcome back,” he murmured, quiet and relieved.
Izuku leaned further against Katsuki, taking in his scent, the warmth of his skin, the peaceful calm of their home. He was happy. So happy. This was all he would ever need.
“I’m home,” Izuku whispered, and everything was perfect.