Chapter Text
“WATCH OUT, DEKU!” Ochaco yelled from high in the air. She was too far away to reach the greenette. The villain, a woman in a lavender two piece and pearly white hair, was relentless, whipping blasts of her quirk past the students. Katsuki caught on to Ochaco’s warning, keeping his eyes on the villain, who currently seemed unaffected by Denki’s attempts to electrocute her. The blond locked into his peripheral a glassy-looking purple wind heading straight for the nerd, who was just feet away from him. The greenette tried to duck back under the rock he’d peeked out from behind, but time ran out. Katsuki had launched himself in front of him, screaming, “MOVE, IDIOT,” but the blast conked Izuku right between the eyes. The boy barely registered the blond’s back blocking him half a second too late as he scrunched his eyes closed and fell back, world reeling.
Waking up in Recovery Girl’s office always filled him with as much guilt as relief - it meant people were forced to turn to protecting him instead of the other way around. But he reluctantly admitted to himself he couldn’t protect anyone with such injuries. Injuries? Izuku reached for his forehead, feeling for a bump or bruise. Huh, nothing. Did Recovery Girl heal him while he was under? Absently, Izuku thought it was strange that he couldn’t really recall the impact of the blast. It felt like a puff of air at most. The dizziness of falling, however, wouldn’t leave his mind. Maybe that’s why he felt a tad nauseous.
Izuku stood from his bed to pull back the curtain and let Recovery Girl know he was awake. She was on her computer, scrolling through a quirk catalogue. As the boy approached her, he registered the words “psychological,” “invisible,” “internal damage”...He looked away, stomach turning at the ominous phrases. The greenette could handle whatever it was. Couldn’t he? Even if it turned out to be terrible, Recovery Girl would definitely find some sort of medication to relieve the symptoms, but that would take a long time and he would miss class and what if the effects were permanent and he kept getting new side effects and--
“Midoriya, you’re mumbling up a storm. You’ll worry yourself into a fit, child.”
Ah, Recovery Girl’s tone soothed him.
The nurse called Izuku closer to check for pupil dilation, then asked him to try balancing on one leg with his eyes closed, then walk in a straight line. He wasn’t concussed, and the nurse couldn’t find any physical injuries. There was nothing to confirm the greenette had been hit by anything at all.
“Bakugou? Please come in,” she called, surprising Izuku. Aside, she clarified to the greenette, “I held him back because he was nearest to you at the time of incident, and I’d like to see if he can share any observations on how the quirk affected you on impact.”
Kacchan? Oh, no, I don’t think can take his yelling right now...
Katsuki sauntered in nevertheless, hands in pockets, wearing his usual scowl. “Hey, shitty nerd, why didn’t you move the hell out of the way before you got hit?” Izuku groaned internally even though he’d predicted a lot of words in that sentence. After a brief scolding for shouting (and cursing) in the medbay by Recovery Girl, the nurse managed to pry information other than “He looked like an idiot” out of Katsuki, discovering Izuku’s forehead had a purple mark on it that had faded a few minutes after the impact and confirming the greenette’s suspicion that nothing solid actually impacted his head. The nurse was relatively unsatisfied, but she promised to research the lavender-clad woman’s quirk, releasing the boys and cautioning Izuku to report back if he developed any new symptoms. Katsuki shoved his chair back as he stood with an annoyed sigh, making for the exit.
Izuku reached for the blond’s hand.
“The fu--?”
Their fingers only brushed before Izuku recoiled, surprised at himself. What gave him the urge to do that? Izuku stared curiously at his hand, cheeks flushing slightly as Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever, shitty nerd,” Katsuki grumbled before yanking the door open to leave. The greenette eventually unfurrowed his brows and thanked Recovery Girl before exiting the room himself.
After Aizawa debriefed Izuku on what he missed while he was unconscious, Izuku had to frantically reassure Ochaco that he was fine on their way back to the dorms. He was happy she’d stayed behind to check on him, but to be honest, he was feeling pretty worn out. And hungry. He dropped himself off at the common kitchen, giving his best friend an apologetic smile for worrying her.
Then, he promptly ripped open a package of pork buns and shoved them in the microwave.
The moist, fluffy rolls smelled so good as they heated up, and they tasted even better as they melted in his mouth. His face heated a little with the spice - he didn’t particularly like spicy food, but at this point he’d eat anything. He sat at the counter for a minute or two just to digest.
Izuku soothed his muscles with a hot shower, the jet warming the back of his neck as he rubbed suds through his hair. All of a sudden, he thought he smelled…
The greenette grabbed his soap bottle, sniffing until he ran out of breath. The sugary scent, it was almost like Kacchan’s smell. But it needed to be caramel. Why did it need to be caramel? Why was he craving Kacchan’s smell? Izuku shook his head as he cranked the shower knob off, figuring he was probably just tired. After brushing his teeth and throwing on some pajamas - obviously All-Might-yellow ones, he huddled into the covers, eyelids drooping easily. He could have slept like a log. Could have.
Three o’clock. Izuku awoke, brow already furrowed. What’s happening? He would’ve glared at the clock and accused it of taking away his blissful rest, but he was distracted. By his stomach. It was tingling. And by tingling, he meant it felt like his stomach was itching to rearrange itself. Izuku pressed his fist into his abdomen, attempting to quell the sensation. It wasn’t exactly a stabbing pain, but it was unwelcome. It felt like more than just the effects of one too many spicy buns. The phantom smell of burnt sugar was back, and he couldn’t tell if it was comforting or not. The greenette stumbled over to the bathroom for antacids, popping two of the chalky tablets in his mouth. Rocking back and forth on his bed, Izuku concluded they weren’t really helping. After half an hour or so, he found himself growing accustomed to the mild discomfort, and eventually he fell asleep. But come Monday morning, the odd sensation was still there, and Izuku started to worry. His morning routine seemed to drag on, the boy unable to keep his mind off the unusual stomach ache. He paused in the middle of brushing his teeth, lost in thought, as his brain supplied the smell of caramel yet again. The scent was clearer now. Definitely smelled like Kacchan. Izuku was completely zoned out when images started to flood in. Flashes of sun kissed skin and blond hair. A warm, soft blanket of Kacchan enveloped him, and the greenette’s face went slack in wonder.
The toothpaste started to dribble.
Izuku snapped out of it, and the images scattered. He tried desperately to breathe in the air, but the sweet scent of nitroglycerin was gone. He felt an aching loss, the tingling in his stomach flaring. He needed to smell that smell again. He needed to see those things again. Though hyperventilating in his room would accomplish nothing. He had to leave for class, and some unseen force within him was insisting he had to leave to go see Katsuki because Kacchan would obviously make the strange feelings go away. What? Where the heck were these irrational thoughts coming from? Why was his stomach twisting like that and what was happening to him?
Izuku did his best to stop stumbling around in a stupor when he met up with his classmates. He sat at his desk, sitting rigidly to avoid further upsetting his abdomen, which hadn’t stopped yelling at him. He hoped Ochaco didn’t notice the strain in his smile. Or that he was only spoke a few words at a time to avoid her conversation. The poor girl was already worried enough. Izuku felt his face flush, anxious and in pain, and he considered running to the bathroom to splash cool water over himself. But class was about to start. And Katsuki was walking in. The blond took his seat in front of the greenette, and the stomach ache instantly receded so abruptly that Izuku didn’t have time to be startled. He sighed in relief and slouched in his chair. Once he could focus on how ridiculously absent the pain was once Katsuki was near, Izuku looked ahead in awe. Obviously hearing the not-so-quiet sigh Izuku had just released, Katsuki peered behind at him, one brow scrunched into a classic “the hell?” position. Izuku met his bold, crimson gaze. And couldn’t. Stop. Staring.
The great Bakugou Katsuki started to look uncomfortable.
The blond broke the odd silence with an appropriately perplexed, “Deku, what the fuck?”
“S-sorry, Kacchan, I zoned out.”
“Yeah, clearly. Freakin’ weirdo.”
All Izuku could do was murmur an apology and shift his eyes down to his desk. After all, he couldn’t really explain himself. I had this really nice daydream about you this morning. Oh, and sometimes I miss the way you smell. Amazing conversation starter. Izuku hoped class would go by quickly today. But at the same time, he didn’t want Katsuki to leave. For whatever reason, Izuku was being drawn to the blond, and he knew that as soon as they parted, the pain would be back.
He should probably tell Recovery Girl, but he focused so hard on Katsuki that by the end of the day he’d forgotten about the problem completely. It came to bite him that night. The pain resurfaced, and Izuku crawled into bed. After a few minutes of trying - and failing - to power through the pain and just go to sleep , Izuku noticed he was starting to shake involuntarily. Stop, please, I don’t know how to fix this. He covered himself with his blanket, weakly convincing himself he was just cold, trying to tune out the anxious voice in his head that screamed otherwise.
Izuku ended up sleeping for maybe three hours that night. He’d tossed and turned, the sleep deprivation making him actually feel cold and amplifying his shaking. He woke up with watery eyes, goosebumps, and a headache. The greenette reluctantly changed out of his pajamas, wincing when he slipped them off and exposed his skin to the air. He turned the faucet all the way warm and let his hands run under the heat for a few seconds. Washed and ready - well, as ready as he could manage to be - he inhaled deeply, letting his eyes fall shut. His brain once again demanded the scent of caramel. As he exhaled, he saw ash blond spikes behind his eyelids, momentarily distracting him from the stomach ache. It hit with full force when he reopened his eyes. Damn. Izuku glued his eyes to the ground as left the dorms and headed to class.
The greenette tried his absolute best to conceal his shaking. When is Kacchan coming? He had a staring contest with the clock as if it was the root of his discomfort, glaring the red second hand down as it made its irritatingly slow journey around. He didn’t even care that his friends sent him concerned glances. He just needed Katsuki here. In his peripheral, he caught shocks of red, yellow, pink, black...where was that soft ash blond?
He almost didn’t notice the ache disappearing, so tense in concentration. But once he came to his senses, he again noticed the sharp contrast as it vanished. He broke his glare at the clock to find Katsuki watching him warily - Izuku must have been making a pretty unusual face for the blond to be giving him such a look. But all of that didn’t matter. Izuku collapsed into his arms on the desk with an exhale that sounded long enough to go past his lung capacity. Ochaco broke his moment of peace.
“Deku, are you all right? You look really tired! ”
Izuku’s head shot up, suddenly aware that the rest of his class existed.
“Did you get enough sleep?” she repeated.
“Ah, I’m fine, Uraraka! But you’re right, I did lose some sleep last night...sorry to make you worry!”
Tenya joined in.
“Midoriya, it’s important to get enough sleep every night. Were you having trouble with a particular assignment?”
Then Tsuyu.
“Midoriya, you know, you’ve been looking pretty out of it since yesterday. There anything we can help with?”
Izuku gave them a genuine smile for the first time. He really did love his friends.
“Thank you guys, really. What would I do without you? But I think I just need some sleep. Maybe I’m a little stressed?”
“Well, alright, but you come straight to us and tell us if you’re still feeling bad whenever you need to. Okay, Deku?”
Ochaco looked so determined, and Izuku felt compelled to agree.
As his classmates unpacked, the greenette caught Katsuki’s gaze. He hadn’t realized the blond was still eyeing him suspiciously. He almost looked...concerned. Did Izuku really look that bad, to have Katsuki worry for him? The greenette found himself getting lost in the crimson pools, and all he wanted to do was reach out and…
“Hey.”
Katsuki seemed thoroughly freaked out. Izuku averted his eyes to his lap sheepishly, clasping his hands together to stop them from actually reaching for the blond without the greenette’s permission. His mouth could form no words; he didn’t even try to justify his desire to keep his eyes on Katsuki. Katsuki didn’t need to know that Izuku missed him for some reason even though they saw each other every day. Having no reason to miss someone who obviously couldn’t care less about him.
In any case, Katsuki wasn’t satisfied with Izuku’s lack of explanation.
When the lunch bell rang, the ash blond turned his head back and hostilely whispered, “Stay.” Aizawa left the classroom first, rubbing his temples to clear from his mind whatever shenanigans his students had tried today. Izuku reassured his friends he’d catch up with them later and they could go have lunch without him and that, once again, he was fine. Katsuki shoved his books in his bag and turned around in his seat, draping his arm over the back of his chair. Izuku held his breath.
“What the hell is up with you, Deku?”
“K-Kacchan-”
“Don’t ‘Kacchan’ me. Why do you keep staring at me? Something on my face?”
“No, Kacchan, I don’t know-”
“Yes you do. Is there something you need to tell me, you nervous little shit?”
Yes. Honestly, Izuku wanted to pour everything out in front of the blond. Something was telling him he could trust Katsuki. He wanted to listen to that voice. He wanted to confide in him so badly. But he was still afraid of his own feelings. He still didn’t know why he needed to be near Katsuki and why his body was in physical distress when he wasn’t. He wanted time to think about it, but he couldn’t focus when he felt that pain. He just wanted to touch Katsuki. Just a little. He didn’t think - he just knew it could make everything feel better. If he could have...just a brush of his fingers...
Katsuki grabbed Izuku by the wrist. And oh my god it felt so good. Izuku nearly went limp in his grasp. He gasped in surprise at how amazing it felt. Completely ignoring Katsuki’s bewildered expression, Izuku reached his other hand out to hold on to the blond’s hand. He studied their clasp, wanting to memorize how Katsuki’s warm hand, smooth from the nitroglycerin, felt around his arm. It was like his life force was flooding back into him from Katsuki’s fingers. Could Katsuki feel it, too? He lifted his head. Oh god. Katsuki was staring at him with an expression very obviously reading, What the fuck??? Izuku knew he shouldn’t have, but he tightened his grasp when he felt Katsuki pulling away.
“Kacchan, no, wait, wait, wait!”
“Wait is fucking right! What the hell, Deku???”
“Just...let me figure out how to explain this, please , I can explain…”
But Izuku wasn’t entirely sure he actually could. Thankfully, Katsuki interrupted his thoughts before his anxiety could bubble over.
“Is this one of your creepy-ass stress habits? Mumbling is freaky enough. I don’t want you staring at me in class. And why the hell are you clinging to me , anyway? You don’t even-”
“Kacchan, can you help me?”
“What?”
“I’m...in pain.”
“...Haah??”
“I don’t know how to explain it, Kacchan, but I’ve had a stomach ache for two days, and it only goes away when you’re near me. And this is going to sound really weird, but I feel like I need to be around you. Oh, hold on. Two days? Sunday’s mission! The quirk! It must be-”
“You realize you’re making it sound worse. Like, a lot worse. Are you fucking delusional? You need to be around me? How am I supposed to respond to this shit?”
Katsuki tried to shake off Izuku’s grip. The greenette desperately held on.
“Kacchan, no, please believe me! I think that quirk - the purple blast that hit me - I think it did something to me, messed me up! Tied me to you somehow?”
“You’re right about being messed up. Now let go of me.”
“Kacchan-”
“Deku. Let go.”
“Kacchan!”
“ Let go! ”
Izuku flinched, looking down to find his quirk had activated, a tiny bolt of green lightning sparking. He retracted his hand like he’d been touching fire. And he kind of was. Katsuki’s hand was crackling with tiny flames in involuntary defense. Izuku met Katsuki’s eyes, guilty and a little hurt. Something unexpected was in the blond’s gaze. Izuku saw...worry. Concern. Katsuki was flustered. For him. Izuku’s eyes watered. The blond inhaled carefully, opening his mouth to say something, but no words came. Despite his worry, he didn’t appear to know how to deal with this. He closed his mouth and turned to leave. Biting his lip as the pain started to seep back into his body, Izuku let him.
“Figure your shit out, Deku,” Katsuki muttered before shutting the door behind him.