Chapter Text
“Can I be honest with you, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki Bakugo’s words were beginning to slur, the six shots and three whiskeys he had were not doing him any favors. Across the table, Eijiro Kirishima raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his glass of sake.
“You mean you haven’t been honest to me up until this point?” he joked. “I thought you telling me that my hero uniform was “the dumbest shit you’ve ever seen” was pretty honest.”
Katsuki waved off the comment, instead choosing to down another shot.
“So, here’s the thing. I used to be a real fuckin’ asshole.” Another shot, this one tasting like water.
Kirishima nearly spat his drink out as he laughed, his hands coming to hold his stomach as he leaned forward on the table.
“What do you mean used to be an asshole Bakubro!” he guffawed, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. The music switched to a slower beat, the sound grating on Katsuki’s drunken ears and he struggled to get out his next sentence. But he needed to say it out loud. The guilt was eating him alive.
“Shaddup! I’m tryna tell you something!” The blond slurred. He started to lift up the final shot glass of the round but thought better of it, slamming it back on the table, the clear liquid sloshing over the sides and creating a glistening stream along the polished wood.
“Back in middle school, there was this kid... His name was Izuku. He was my best friend when we were kids. He used to follow me around all the time, it was real fuckin’ annoying.” Katsuki paused and looked down at the liquid dripping from the table onto the tiled flooring, fixating on it instead of looking his friend in the eyes.
“Once I got my quirk, that little shit just got even more annoying. Would always tell me how amazing I was, but it always sounded like he was making fun of me, looking down on me or some shit. He wasn’t, not even a little bit. He was way too nice for that.” Katsuki began to tear up but he scarcely noticed as he continued, his voice becoming more gruff.
“So I bullied him. I bullied him so bad, Kirishima. I even told him to take a swan dive off a building at one point. I thought he was quirk-less and I thought it was such bullshit that a quirk-less little bastard could look down on me when he was nothing, not like me.”
The blond missed the look of sadness that overcame the redheads face at his admission, and the way he leaned in closer and almost reached out a comforting hand before thinking better of it.
“We went to separate high schools after middle school. Turns out he did have a quirk and he went to Shiketsu and became a hero and moved to America. He’s some big shot down there I guess.” A few more tears welled up in Katsuki’s eyes, making the usually vibrant red appear more dull.
“I never got to apologize for that. For how I treated him. It haunts me, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki looked up then, a few tears escaping as he gazed up at his high school friend. The friend who stuck with him even when he was a giant, know it all piece of shit, and stayed even after high school. They were at separate agencies now, but still met up every Friday night for drinks.
“I’m so fucking happy he never listened to my dumbass. I have nightmares sometimes about it. That he did kill himself because of me.” The blond was really crying now, his fists clenching together on top of the table.
Kirishima stayed silent, knowing better than to interrupt when Katsuki got like this, which really wasn’t often but he knew him well enough to understand when to speak and when to listen.
“You would’ve liked him. He was always smiling, always so full of energy. We both used to bond over All Might until I got my quirk and became the shittiest little fucker to exist. We had so much fun together. We would hunt for bugs, play in the park, have sleepovers where we would stay up all night watching All Might movies.”
Kirishima’s heart clenched at the longing in Bakugo’s voice.
“I miss him. I hope he’s happy. I know he probably forgot about me. Or at least hates me so much that he wishes he could forget about me. It would be selfish of me to seek him out to apologize. What right do I have to talk to him? None. I still wish that I could though.” Katsuki sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, the tears smearing across his cheeks.
A few moments of silence passed before Kirishima’s shock wore off and he started to open his mouth to speak when the blond cut him off.
“Whatever, I’m done talking about this shit. I just wanted it out there. Don’t you dare bring it up ever again or I’ll light your precious garden on fire.”
Ah, there’s the Bakugo I know and love, Kirishima thought as the explosive hero leveled an angry glare his way. The red head held his hands up in surrender, choosing instead to go get them some water and pay their tab. It was really time he got ol’ drunky home.
In the back of the taxi, with Katsuki passed out against the window and Kirishima on his other side looking out at the passing crowds, the redhead thought of ways he could get Katsuki and his old friend back together. He could do it, somehow. He had to. He knew Bakugo, he was his best friend, and he just wanted to see him happy. If he’s talking about the Izuku that goes by the hero name Deku in America, then he knows that he wouldn’t hold a grudge.
Kirishima had met him once in high school; he and Mina Ashido had gone to a voluntary seminar for up and coming heroes and met him there and boy, talk about ball of sunshine. He gushed about his favorite heroes and practically vomited all kinds of facts about them. They bonded and somehow their classmates came up and when they mentioned Bakugo, Kirishima didn’t miss the way Izuku’s eyes had softened, lighting up in a way the redhead hadn’t ever seen when someone talked about the ornery blond.
So yeah, safe to say Izuku doesn’t hate Katsuki. Who knows, if Kirishima ever got them in a room together again, maybe something more could come out of it.
He spent the rest of the night scheming and texting a few of his friends, figuring out the best way to make something happen.
Turns out, he didn’t have to wait long to get his plans moving in the right direction.
The following Friday, Katsuki was disturbed by an incessant pounding on his apartment door. He had just finished getting ready for his usual outing with Kirishima and was supposed to meet him at the bar.
So he didn’t understand why the fuck someone was knocking on his door so loud right now.
“Alright I hear you!” The knocks continue as Katsuki pads his way across his apartment. “I SAID I HEAR YOU SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Katsuki yanks the door open, a snarl making its way past his lips but he pauses midway and stares at the gaggle of buffoons awaiting him on the other side.
Kaminari, Sero, Ashido, and Kirishima are all waiting on the other side, ridiculous grins lighting all their faces and they’re dressed to the nines; he’s talking tuxedos and a runway worthy dress nines.
“The fuck are you guys all dressed up for? And why the fuck are you at my apartment?” Katsuki questioned. Momentarily dumbfounded, he didn’t stop them as they made their way into his home, not going further than the genkan.
“Bakubro! Change of plans man. We’re heading somewhere nice so hurry up and change.”
Over his shock, Katsuki growled, “Plans changed to what exactly, Hair For Brains?”
Kirishima waved him off.
“No time to explain man! Go get dressed; make it something nice!”
Turns out Katsuki’s “nice” was a black silk button up shirt, a pair of tailored black slacks, and a pair of black slip on luxury shoes with a decorative chain running across the top.
He still felt underdressed as they piled out of a town car and onto the sidewalk of a theater that was teaming with people. They were all dressed just as fancy as his companions, cameras flashing, people shouting greetings, the click of heels as they made their way up large, stone steps.
“Pikachu, Shitty Hair, what in the fuck are we doing at a classical fucking theater?” The blond snarled. They all knew how much he hated classical music; it was so fucking boring that it put him to sleep.
“Don’t worry blondie, you’ll see.” Kaminari patted Katsuki on the back and they all pretty much hoarded him up the stairs and into the theater, the sounds of people even louder as they echoed off the walls.
Katsuki scoffed and put his hands in his pockets, choosing to suffer instead of make a scene. There had to be some kind of reason they’d drag him here, he doesn’t think they’d do it just to annoy him.
…hopefully.
They had seats in the very first row, close enough to be able to see whoever was playing but far enough that Katsuki didn’t have to break his fucking neck just to watch. He ignored the idle chatter around him and worked through emails on his phone. He was ready for this to be done.
Before long, the lights dimmed and the stage opened. A drum set, piano, and a few other instruments sat at the back of the stage each being manned, but the lighting stayed on the middle of the stage, leading Katsuki to believe that they were only backup and not the main part of the show.
A sudden beep sounded throughout the domed theater and the voice of his annoying ass old teacher, Present Mic, blared throughout.
“Good evening ladies, gentleman, and fellow music lovers! Thanks for coming to the show. We have a very special treat for you tonight!”
Katsuki fidgeted in his seat. Hearing his voice was sending him back to high school and the days he’d have dreams showing up late to exams in his underwear. He shuddered.
“We would like to welcome back a hero who served dutifully in America but has now returned to us in Japan: Hero Deku!”
The crowd exploded in applause and Katsuki shot straight up in his seat, the knowing looks from his friends completely missed as he stared at the man walking out from behind the scenes, an oak colored violin in his arms.
He looked nothing like he remembered and at the same time he looked exactly the same.
Those same fluffy green curls that were now longer at the top and shorter on the sides and the back, that same dorky smile that made Katsuki’s heart skip a beat, those mesmerizing emerald green eyes that were shining with excitement. His lanky frame that Katsuki remembers was no where to be found, replaced instead by thick muscles in his thighs and glutes, defined biceps were peaking out of his short sleeved green button up, a button up that was slightly straining over strong pectorals. He was muscular without seeming bulky, a lithe figure from the waist up, but the waist down? Katsuki couldn’t
get over the way his khaki pants hugged his tight ass. He had to stop himself from biting his lip.
Izuku gave the crowd a wave, nodding to the musicians in the back before the lights dimmed even further. Katsuki sat transfixed, his eyes glued to where Izuku stood with his violin poised to begin.
Izuku closed his eyes and began a slow tempo. The notes echoed throughout the silent theater, steady and haunting. A piano played quietly with him. The music squeezed Katsuki’s chest until he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.
The first few notes started to tell a story, a sad one at that. The notes went high then low, drawing themselves out. The beautiful tune rang in Katsuki’s ears and seemed to envelop his soul. The blond could barely contain the emotions in which the haunting piece was pulling from him, but then, like a switch flipping, Izuku grinned mischievously at the crowd and the notes suddenly picked up, the violin’s sudden vibrato dominating the concerto. The background instruments chimed in, adding an inviting beat to the rising tempo.
The greenet began moving about the stage, dancing along to the notes, leaning forward or backward during the crescendos or diminuendos. It was quite mesmerizing, the way he made use of the stage as he played, the rhythm grabbing Katsuki’s attention in a way no music ever had before.
Izuku began making his way across the stage again, giving little leaps and spins as he played. He neared where Katsuki and his friends were sitting, dipping forward to play a particularly long note before dipping back then sliding forward again.
Then, the greenet glanced down, viridian eyes meeting vermilion. While Izuku’s steps faltered and his smile dropped slightly, his tune never wavered.
Katsuki stared up at the beautiful man before him, his own face the picture of awe. His chest broke at the reaction, but Izuku only grinned again, keeping eye contact as he played the chorus. The quickly spun chords grabbed Katsuki by the throat, choking him and holding him at their mercy. His eyes watered and he stared deep into the depths of that emerald forest. The room seemed to narrow, all his focus on Izuku until it seemed like they were the only two in the room.
The music hit a decrescendo before uplifting again, Izuku leaning back, his fingers moving quickly along the strings, his bow moving back and forth. His eyes never left Katsuki’s as he finished the song, the cadence was just him and the violin, fading into the background of the applause.
Izuku’s chest rose and fell as the crowd descended into chaos, the applause so loud it hurt Katsuki’s quirk worn ears. Izuku beamed, finally looking away from Katsuki and towards the rest of the crowd, bowing and waving as they cheered him on. Katsuki felt the loss of his attention like a missing limb.
He didn’t know he could feel like this, that Deku of all people would make him feel this way. He was confused by his body’s reaction, the way it warmed when Izuku looked at him, the way goosebumps rose over his flesh hearing him play those haunting and riveting pieces. He supposed it made sense; he did learn in therapy that under all those hateful feelings, he did actually care for Izuku, he was just too prideful to see it. He still regrets the way he treated him and mourns the loss of their friendship.
He wonders now how Izuku feels. Why did he look at him like that just now? Why did he keep looking at him with a smile on his face instead of the look of disgust and loathing that Katsuki deserved?
Katsuki didn’t have time to dwell on it because Izuku was starting his next piece. The beginning reminded him of something you’d hear at a carnival, the background instrumentals starting before Izuku did, at first just the piano. Then suddenly the notes were flowing like gentle winds through Katsuki’s entire body again.
Up, down, up, down, up, up, over and over again the tempo played until one note was dragged out, a drum being added to the mix, then just Izuku and his violin, a hypnotic tune dragging Katsuki and the rest of the audience under. The music quickly moved from the verse to the chorus, and Izuku was dancing and skipping all over the stage again, bowing forward and back as if the music controlled him and not the other way around. His eyes were closed now as he played, swaying his body, his fingers moving so quickly that Katsuki couldn’t quite follow.
As the show went on, the blond forgot everything else except Izuku. The way he moved, the way he seemed to be entranced by the music, the way his songs seemed to each tell their own story.
God, he was so fucking beautiful.
The concerto went on for what seemed like just minutes but in reality was much longer, Katsuki having scarcely noticed times’ passing for how absorbed he was in the virtuoso before him.
A sad ballad had tears rolling down his cheeks, yet he made no move to wipe them away. The final song Izuku played was cheerful and had the crowd standing in their seats, begging for an encore. Katsuki wasn’t surprised when Izuku obliged them.
At the end, flowers were thrown on stage as Izuku and the other instrumentalists bowed and waved. Even Katsuki was standing in his seat applauding the performance. He felt lighter after it somehow, like the sounds of Izuku and his violin had cleansed him, body and soul. It was a surreal feeling.
Izuku started to walk off stage, choosing to exit towards the side where Katsuki sat. The greenet glanced his way and met his eye before giving him a wink and a wave, disappearing into the darkness behind the curtain.
“That…was…amazing!” Kaminari was jumping up and down clapping, grasping hands with Ashido as they gushed over how fun the show had been. And fun it was indeed. Izuku engaged the crowd in a way he had never seen any classical musician be able to accomplish. Fuck, if he could pull even Katsuki in, he must be good.
“Didn’t put you to sleep this time huh?” Kirishima teased, clapping Katsuki on the shoulder.
The blond shot him a glare and shrugged his hand off which only made the redhead grin wider. Sero approached and handed Katsuki a laminated piece of paper attached to a red string which Katsuki grabbed hesitantly, raising a platinum blond eyebrow in question.
“VIP backstage pass,” was all the hero said before he gathered his friends and began walking towards the exit. Kirishima gave him a knowing grin before he too made his way out of the theater, leaving Katsuki alone with a stunnedlook on his face.
He stared down at the pass clutched in his hand.
He couldn’t go back there, he thought, shaking his head.
He began to follow where his friends went before his feet stopped moving. Couldn’t he? He reasoned.
No, Izuku had to hate him. He wouldn’t want to see him backstage. But then, what was with all that eye contact and then the wink?
Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Katsuki made his way towards the door that led backstage, flashing his newly acquired VIP badge to the security guard who opened the door and waved him through.
His palms were sweating like crazy now. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. He was finally going to see Izuku in person after all this time. What was he going to say?
He neared where a crowd of people were congratulating the green haired violinist, a smile so bright on his face that it was almost blinding.
He waited for the crowd to thin, until it was just Izuku waving goodbye to the last fan before turning to where Katsuki stood, blinking in surprise as he recognized him.
Katsuki steeled his nerves and cleared his throat, walking those few remaining feet until he was standing directly in front of his old childhood friend.
He was a good five inches taller, Katsuki noted with a little bit of satisfaction.
Green eyes sparkled as they looked up at him.
“Hi Kacchan,” Izuku said, his voice like honey and sugar.
“De-Izuku,” the blond stuttered. A blush bloomed on his cheeks at his error and he clenched his fists together.
Izuku only laughed.
“You can call me Deku, Kacchan. It is my hero name after all.”
“I don’t want to call you Deku. It’s what I used to call you to make fun of you, and I have no plans of ever doing that again.”
There, he laid it out there. Katsuki breathed deeply.
Izuku’s eyes widened slightly before he smirked.
“Cutting right to the chase huh? You always were a straight to the point kind of guy. Let’s not talk about this here. Would you like to come to my dressing room with me?” Izuku gestured towards a hallway to their left.
The thought of saying no never even crossed the blonds’ mind as he wordlessly followed the head of green curls as they led him away to a more secluded space. Katsuki stood in the middle of the scarce dressing room as Izuku shut the door behind him.
“Kacchan,” he began, only to be cut off by Katsuki raising a hand. That childish nickname cut him right to the bone. He missed hearing it so fucking much.
“You were amazing tonight,” he said. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I hate classical music. Like a lot. It puts me to sleep.”
Izuku snorted a laugh but said nothing as Katsuki continued.
“But you, you told a story with your music that was so beautiful and inspiring that I couldn’t fall asleep if I tried. It was… amazing.” Katsuki didn’t miss the irony of using the word Izuku used to use to compliment him.
“I didn’t expect to be coming here tonight. In fact, I had no idea you were even in Japan. But I’m glad I came because there’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for years.”
A deep inhale preceded Katsuki’s next words and he stared directly into Izuku’s eyes as he spoke.
“I am so sorry for the way I treated you when we were brats. I had some kind of fucked up complex and when you would compliment me I would take it as you looking down on me. Years of therapy later, I know that’s not true.”
Izuku’s eyes widened.
“I’m so fucking glad you never listened to my dumb ass, especially when I would say those horrible things to you. I am so fucking sorry Izuku.”
Katsuki hung his head and let his arms fall forward, the silence in the room more deafening than his explosions.
“I’ve seen the incredible hero you’ve become in America. I only wish I could’ve been there to see you grow. I’m sorry I destroyed our friendship. I regret it more than anything.”
Tears were threatening to escape and Katsuki inhaled, his breathing shaky.
His vision was invaded by a scarred, freckled hand reaching for his, fingers grasping his chin and making him look up into tear soaked eyes.
“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku said, his voice wobbly. “I forgave you ages ago. Thank you, for saying those things.”
He sniffed. “Our friendship isn’t destroyed either, I would love to still be your friend. I missed it too.” A calloused thumb rubbed tears from his cheeks and Katsuki’s hand held tighter to Izuku’s.
Before he knew what he was doing, his body moved on its own, he embraced Izuku in a crushing hug. Izuku only laughed and hugged him back, his grip strong and comforting. The height difference had Izuku’s face pressed into Katsuki’s pec, but he didn’t care. It was just good to feel his nerd in his arms.
He was overcome with emotion, his heart breaking and piecing itself back together again. He didn’t deserve this, Izuku’s friendship, but he was too selfish to care. He thought about what this day would be like for years, but he never imagined Izuku would actually forgive him.
He was trembling uncharacteristically as he pulled away, gazing softly down at that stupidly cute freckled face.
For a split second, a single second, he thought about leaning down to kiss him.
Logic won out over his stupid fucking heart and he stepped away, clearing his throat.
What the fuck was that? Katsuki scolded himself.
He chose instead to distance himself, taking a seat on the small couch and propping his ankle on his knee, one arm going to rest on the back of the cushions behind him.
Izuku almost looked… sad to see Katsuki move away.
And did he tilt his chin up to me? He wondered idly.
To break the silence and interrupt words still unsaid, Katsuki’s gruff voice questioned, “So, you give up hero work to become a violinist or do you just moonlight as one?”
Izuku chuckled and moved to sit beside Katsuki, his back resting just below where Katsuki’s arm rested. He tried not to fidget at the closeness.
“No, I do both. Hero work is my job, my first love you could say.”He side eyed Katsuki before looking away towards the ceiling.
“But playing the violin was something I never knew I could love until my mom dragged me to a show one day. I fell in love with it and have been playing ever since. I didn’t want to be a boring old violinist though, just playing the classics and Christmas music over and over.”
Katsuki smiled as the nerd rambled on, this familiar habit blooming warmth throughout his chest. He may have let his arm slip a little lower to rest on Izuku’s shoulders, reveling in his warmth. What little of it he could get.
Izuku leaned into his touch, speaking with a voice suddenly filled with emotion, “I wanted to be different, have people engage in the music. I wanted to write my soul down on paper and be able to play it for the world to hear, to dance to the tune of my heart and be happy. It was always my dream to be a hero and save people with a smile. It still is, and I try to smile everyday, but it’s my new dream to create music and have people smile even when they’re not in danger. When they’re in their happiest moments, I want to be there to make them even happier. I feel like my music really helps me do that.”
Izuku smiled softly and looked down at his hands in his lap. Katsuki observed the various scars across his hands and his arms, a story to be told of triumph and strife. This beautiful, strong man in front of him now, a decade removed from the boy he once knew him as. His admission tugged at the decaying strings of Katsuki’s heart, watering forgotten seeds of emotion and coaxing them to sprout.
“That’s… really fucking amazing Izuku. You really grew up from that little nerd I once knew huh?” The blond joked.
Izuku turned to look at him, the sincere look on the greenet’s face shot straight through Katsuki, making him wish again and again that things had happened differently when they were younger. That they weren’t so far apart as they were now.
The greenet smiled broadly, his voice like sunshine, “Sure did Kacchan. So did you it seems! When did you get so tall and handsome?” Izuku giggled as he nudged Katsuki’s side with his shoulder.
Katsuki feigned injury and nudged Izuku right back, the smaller man laughing as he was pushed.
“The fuck you mean? I’ve always been handsome thank you very much. I got tall around second year at UA.” He puffed out his chest to seem bigger, glancing sideways at Izuku who only looked at him briefly before clutching his stomach and laughing. A small smile broke out on Katsuki’s face against his permission and he gazed longingly at the beaming dork beside him.
“Right, I forgot just how big your ego was,” Izuku snickered, but then he seemed to realize what he said, gasping and waving his hands in front of him as he said, “N-not that that’s a bad thing! Your ego is actually one of your admirable traits!”
Izuku’s quickness to defend himself hurt Katsuki, though he didn’t let it show completely on his face. His smile dropped and he looked away.
He paused, trying to find a way to steer the conversation back to a more enjoyable tone.
“So I have admirable traits huh?” he teased quietly.
Izuku gulped. Katsuki didn’t want to give him a reason to revert to old habits due to his bullying. He hates that he even had to in the first place.
The greenet smiled softly, looking down at his hands. His voice was gentle as he spoke.
“Of course Kacchan. I followed after you so much because I could clearly see how great you were.” He looked over into Katsuki’s eyes, searching. For what, Katsuki didn’t know.
“I did hate you for a while after middle school.” he admitted quietly. Katsuki tensed. I guess we’re going to get more into this, he thought. But they should anyways. The small conversation earlier wasn’t nearly enough.
“I even went to therapy to work through everything. I couldn’t understand what would make you hate me so much. But I learned it was never me you hated. Not really. I learned over time that how you treated me really had nothing to do with me. I do mourn our past friendship. I think about it a lot actually. I followed your career all throughout high school and even when I went to America.”
He paused, picking at the skin around his fingernails. Katsuki found himself paralyzed, not a single coherent thought floating through his mind as he eagerly awaited Izuku’s next words.
“I saw you change. You became kinder; it wasn’t as obvious to other people because of how rude you try to come off as. But I know you. I see you. It was in the little things you would do. Picking up a little girl’s blanket that got left behind in fans’ rushes to get to you so you could give it back to her.” Izuku laughed at the memory. “You told her mother to not be so careless with her daughter’s things. The news edited out the vulgar language I’m sure you used. It’s just like you to cover up a kind act with rude words.”
Katsuki’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t even swallow. He was at Izuku’s mercy right now, his words were either going to make or break him at this point.
“It was also in the big things. Like the anti-bullying campaigns you would help put together. You were never the face of them but you were always there; I know you were behind them.”
Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s hand then, his fingers calloused and strong.
“I really did forgive you Kacchan. I know you’ve changed and I know you’re not the person you used to be. You just being here tells me a lot about the person you’ve become. I’m not going to say any of it was okay, because it wasn’t. But I forgive you.”
Katsuki didn’t know he was crying until the tears fell onto their clasped hands. He still couldn’t believe this. He didn’t know what to say, how to process any of this.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness Izuku. I can’t change what happened back then either, even though I fucking wish more than anything I wasn’t such a little shit back then.”
Izuku had tears flowing in rivers down his cheeks, collecting on his chin and dripping to join Katsuki’s on their hands. It was kind of poetic, that their tears would fall and mix together where they were joined. Like their souls were beginning to entwine, entangling their lives back together again, the way it should be.
“But I’ll do everything I can, each and every day, to deserve it. If you’ll let me. I’d really like to get to know your nerd ass again.” Izuku laughed then, throwing his arms back around Katsuki’s shoulders and tackling him to the couch. Katsuki’s shock prevented him from returning the embrace and he laid limp underneath the heavy form of the hero above him.
“Of course Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed. “I would love to be friends again!” He rubbed his face into Katsuki’s neck and his shock finally wore off as he brought his arms up around the form vibrating with excitement on top of him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be friends with you again. This is the best day ever!”
Katsuki couldn’t help but chuckle. This grown ass man was giggling like a child, though the sound was sweeter than chocolate and Katsuki would do anything to be able to taste it for the rest of his life.
“Alright alright! Get offa me!” Katsuki grumbled. He immediately missed the warmth as Izuku moved away. The green eyed man wiped his face with his forearm and looked at him happily.
“What do you say we hangout sometime Kacchan? I’m still working on unpacking from the big move from America, but I could make time. I-if you want that is?” He let out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.
Fuck, is he cute, Katsuki thought. He knew he was quickly getting sucked into the whirlpool that was Izuku Midoriya, but he found that he was happy to drown in his waters if it meant he got to be near him again.
He cocked his head to the side as he questioned, “Big move? You finally coming back to Japan, huh?”
Izuku nodded and stood up, making himself busy as he packed up his violin and belongings.
“Yeah, it was time. I missed my mom and my friends.” Katsuki watched as he moved about the room. He tried his best not to stare at Izuku’s ass as he walked, he really did, but he was only a man and Izuku had a fucking delicious looking body. It was probably every man’s fantasy, but especially Katsuki’s. Any illusion he had of keeping the feelings he’d harbored for years at bay were destroyed. First the illusion had only cracked when he saw Izuku on stage, yet more pieces began falling when he’d received that wink, then barely holding together as he stepped up to him behind the scenes, and finally shattering into dust when Izuku spoke his truth.
Katsuki was always a loser when it came to resisting Izuku. He was just better at dealing with it now.
“Well, America’s loss is my gain,” Katsuki said as he stood up. A blush bloomed across Izuku’s cheeks, his freckles standing out more vibrantly.
Fuck, Katsuki was drowning so fucking fast.
“If you’re free this weekend, we could meet up for drinks or something.” Katsuki suggested, making his way towards the door. Each step apart was like walking on fire; it felt unnatural.
“Y-yeah. I’m free Kacchan.”
Katsuki left, Izuku’s number now in his phone burning a hole in his pocket. He wouldn’t admit out loud, but he was so fucking happy right now he could scream, to explode the pavement with his quirk just to let out these feelings.
He walked towards the street with his hands in his pockets, heart lighter than it had been in years.
Next weekend couldn’t come soon enough.