Please enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent, post-war year two bkdk oneshot, with some yearning Katsuki and dense af Izuku :)
I wrote this on my phone in a week when I had free time, so consider this your warning for the unedited garbage it is LOL but I still had a lot of fun writing it!
Word count: 4900
CW: swearing, innuendo, mild sexual content
Denial sparked through him, hot and aggressive, melding with the nitroglycerine already popping through his veins. The moment green met red from across the gym, Katsuki tore his gaze away. He wasn't fucking staring.
He wasn't.
The stupid nerd was just squatting twice his bodyweight like it was nothing, and the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt was completely beside the point.
Katsuki was just…looking. And not fucking like that!
It just made him feel better when that dumbass was in his line of sight. Alive and whole. Not afraid to be seen under Katsuki’s eyes, so he could just be without the pressure of keeping up his usual facade.
Izuku abandoned the rack and his belongings, heading straight for him. Katsuki hated that he already knew exactly what that freckle-faced loser was going to say because those big, dumb emeralds could see right through him. Izuku didn't even need to speak, but he did anyway. “I have one more set, and then I'll come, okay Kacchan?”
He didn't reply, just kind of nodded, too focused on dragging these weird ass feelings back to the hole they crawled from. It wasn't real. It was a side effect and nothing more.
He didn’t wait for Izuku to walk away before picking up his loaded bar, continuing his own set of bicep curls, still working on strengthening his right arm.
The next time Katsuki looked up, he paused mid curl, the weight lead in his hands. The first thought to cross his mind reminded him alone they were in the large, empty gym.
The next thought was how much it didn't fucking matter, because why should he care if he's completely alone with that half-naked dork or not? They spent a lot of time alone recently. After the war, it had just become this unspoken agreement between them. That they would just…be near one another. Almost at all times.
It was fucking weird. Wasn't as if all the guilt and shame he felt just vanished. Sure, maybe it had lessened a bit, but it was still there, still a low simmer constantly bubbling beneath the surface. Being in one another's personal space was second nature, but it still felt odd as hell for Katsuki. Sometimes he still wondered why Izuku tried so hard to stay by him all these years.
Every once in a while, the urge to corner him and outright ask almost won over, but he could never bring himself to go through with it.
Izuku was just dead-hanging from the pull-up bars on the rack. There was no fucking reason for Katsuki to be stalling like this – gaze fixed, unable to force it off the stretched out expanse of his freckled, scarred back. And yet…
Fuck this.
Dropping his barbell carelessly, the obnoxious clatter echoing through the otherwise silent space sent Izuku's entire body flailing in panic, wild tendrils of Black Whip exploding from his body that ultimately sent him to the floor in a useless heap.
“Was that really necessary, Kacchan?!”
Izuku sounded mad as hell, and all Katsuki could do was laugh because of how stupid he'd looked. He stepped over the barbell, leaving it behind. “Stop using your quirk, idiot.”
“It's your fault! You scared me! And you totally did it on purpose, too!” Izuku glared up at him, attempting to frown but not quite cutting it.
“Maybe you shouldn't be such a damn crybaby about it.” His words were empty. There wasn't any meaning behind it, just spoken simply because some habits were a lot fucking harder to break than others. He held his hand out, his eyes never once wavering from those impossibly wide verdant pools.
Sticking his tongue out and grabbing Katsuki's hand without hesitation, he let himself be hauled up. Only to stumble and trip over his own feet, falling directly into Katsuki's chest.
Their hands were still clasped, now trapped between their bodies. Izuku's face was too close to Katsuki's – all of Izuku was too fucking close. And he was still shirtless. Katsuki could feel the heat radiating from him, the silky softness of his bare skin and the weight of his body pressing against. Could smell the warm, earthy, masculine scent clinging to his sweat-dried skin.
His heart did this weird thing in his chest. Feeling as if it were stuttering; skipping beats as the seconds ticked on with a half-naked Izuku pressed up against him. He should have been weirded out – should have immediately moved from arms reach, but it felt like slow motion when the nerd finally looked up, an apology dying on his lips.
It was only a moment, but it felt like forever that they just stood there, staring at one another.
Those eyes. Those massive, creepy, obsessive, sharp, vivid, radiant fucking eyes. They sent a bone-deep shiver through his whole body. His mouth went dry, tongue thick and throat tight. His pulse pounded in his ears, chest seizing as his heart palpitated.
Fuck, he would never hear the end of it from his cardiologist at this rate, because why the hell wasn't Izuku moving?
Why wasn't he moving?
Finally, realization took hold of Izuku’s features, and he jumped back like a frightened cat. Before he could say a word, though, Katsuki just rolled his eyes and walked away, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
“‘M going to shower.”
He kept walking, leaving the barbell forgotten on the floor. He rejected the image of Izuku's lips, plush and parted, the skin slightly chapped, probably from yapping so damn much, only a breath away from his own.
With sparking palms and a frustrated growl, he kicked the locker room door open a little harder than necessary, and shoved every thought and feeling he'd had over the past two hours into the Pandora's box they'd escaped from.
Stupid fucking nerd! Why the fuck did he have to go and make me do some weird shit like that?!
He bulldozed along, stripping carelessly before sealing himself behind the curtain and spray of cold water.
Who did Katsuki think he was? Allowing Izuku to get that close to him? He wasn't gonna lead the guy on. He needed to make it clear. That it wasn't like that. Whatever that was – Katsuki had zero right to be the subject of those feelings.
The chill water pounded steadily against his back as he just stood there, fists clenched and jaw set as he tried to convince himself it wasn't like that. He wasn't like that. And yet, his body continued to betray him at every turn.
He couldn't stand the idea of anyone but him being the object of Izuku’s affection.
The cold water did shit to wash that away.
The rest of the night had been fine. They didn't say a word about whatever the fuck it was that happened, and if Izuku wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him. They'd sat in the common room with the rest of the extra’s, studying and bickering, tuning into the garbage Raccoon Eyes had on TV every so often with ridicule.
At least, it had been fine until almost an hour had passed with Katsuki laying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
His stupid brain kept supplying things he was not supposed to be thinking about. Well. Things his therapist didn't want him thinking about. Like the fact that Izuku was slowly losing One for All, and Katsuki had been too slow on the uptick to not feel a boatload of new guilt and regret for not supporting him more. Or earlier. Or anything that would have given him more time.
He rolled over, huffing with annoyance. He just wanted to go to sleep, damn it.
His cellphone buzzed from the nightstand, nearly choking him out with the way his heart rate shot up, steadily pounding in his throat.
Fuck.
Why the fuck did he wonder and hope it was Izuku? Since when did he react like that?!
It's not real, it's not real, it's not fucking real! None of this is real! These feelings don't fucking exist, damn it, what the hell…
Katsuki swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his racing heart to chill out. Side effects are all it was. All it could be.
Just need to sleep. Just fuckin’ tired. It'll be fine tomorrow…
The phone was left ignored, the single text from that purple haired freak upstairs unanswered.
9:54pm
You should check on Midoriya. He's not as quiet as he thinks.
Guilt, annoyance, and something he couldn't put a name to rolled in his gut as he read the words, and from whom, the following morning. Guilt for not checking his phone and leaving Izuku to cry by himself. Annoyance because it was fucking Shinsou messaging him and not Izuku. Why didn't he reach out himself? He didn't do it very often, that was true – but he knew he could come to Katsuki if he needed him. Was it that he didn't need him? That couldn't be the case either though, the way he still stuck to Katsuki like velcro despite his endlessly prickly behaviour and demeanor.
Was it because of what happened yesterday? Would that even matter to Izuku? He was a clumsy, fidgety mess to begin with; it wasn't like it meant anything, right? There was no way Izuku could have…feelings. Not for Katsuki. He would be insane to have feelings for the blond after everything he'd put him through.
Sure as shit meant absolutely nothing to Katsuki, that was for damn sure. He didn't care about Izuku's face being mere inches from his own, or that his lips had parted a fraction in surprise, or that the warmth and softness of his bare skin still burned where he'd touched Katsuki.
Enough of this. Stop fucking thinking about it already! The ball ain't in my court anymore.
Shaking his head, he tossed his phone and put himself on auto pilot to get ready for the day.
When he went down to the kitchen, still barely past six in the morning, he wasn't expecting to find the plague of his thoughts already there.
“Oi,” Katsuki called from the doorway, staring at the heap sprawled over the island, a mess of green curls the only thing distinguishing Izuku. “Why're you up?”
“Oh, hi Kacchan. I couldn't sleep, so I just got up instead.” He sat up, looking back over his shoulder. Izuku's face was red and splotchy, his eyes matching. “Did you sleep okay?”
Ignoring the question, he stalked forward, a scowl painting his features. “Why didn't you come to me?”
Izuku paused, his eyes widening a fraction like he'd been caught. “What do you mean?”
“Don't play dumb, nerd,” Katsuki hissed, leaning over the end of the island, close but not too close. “I woke up to a text from your neighbor. Walls are paper fuckin’ thin, y'know.”
A moment of displeasure encompassed Izuku's features, obviously not thrilled he'd been basically tattled on. “I'm okay, Kacchan. It was just a rough night! It's to be expected though, right?”
Katsuki stared at the other boy, searching his eyes and face for something. Anything. He just wanted to know why he didn't come to him. For some fucking reason.
Since when did he care whether Izuku confided in him or not?
Since we've been together almost every day since our lives went back to normal. Since that day in the hospital…
The thought supplied itself. Obnoxious and leaving no room for anything else. He didn't get why it mattered now. Didn't even know when the change began.
“I don't wanna hear it from that damn extra again, got it? I don't fucking care what time it is – I know that's what you're thinking in that big head of yours-”
“I do not have a big head, Kacchan!” Izuku interjected, pouting.
“Fuckin’ whatever, that's not the point, idiot. Just…call me or somethin’ next time.” He could feel his ears and cheeks burning, so he cast his gaze away to avoid the way the boy was surely looking at him.
Silence followed, and when Katsuki thought Izuku wasn't going to answer him, his voice broke through. Warm and sincere and tinged with something the blond hardly believed was present. “Okay, Kacchan. I'm sorry I didn't come to you last night. I just…I thought that maybe you might have wanted some space from me, or something…I don't know. You just kinda left the gym yesterday after I made a total fool of myself, and I didn't want to bother you in case you were mad at me, or something…” The longer his mouth ran, the more annoyed Katsuki got, until he finally scoffed and rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the island. He got the answer he was looking for, but as usual, Izuku jumped to conclusions.
Instead of navigating his way through that conversation, he just changed the topic instead. “You haven't eaten yet.”
“Oh, uhm, no, not yet. I didn't really have an appetite.”
“I'm gonna cook you something, and you're gonna eat every last bite of it. Got it? You don't fucking eat enough.”
“Kacchan, it's okay, really! I'm not that hung-”
“Izuku.” Katsuki huffed, exasperated, peering over the fridge door with a scowl until the other boy relented.
He worked silently around the kitchen, while Izuku tried to pretend he wasn't half-asleep with his eyes closed, head pillowed by his folded arms on the countertop.
It was a lecture day. He had half a mind to tell Izuku to just go back to bed after eating, and he'd give him his notes after classes, but he knew Izuku too well. Especially now – his mental state didn't allow him too much downtime. It didn't for any of them, really. Down time meant time to think, and when most of them were struggling with PTSD, it wasn't ideal.
Instead, he just let Izuku sleep until he slid a cup of coffee and his plate of food in front of him.
Katsuki slid onto the stool to the boy's left, not really realizing how close the seats were until they were practically shoulder to shoulder. He was about to slide over when the heavy weight of Izuku's head dropped into the crook of his neck, freezing him in his spot.
He could smell Izuku's green tea shampoo and the fresh scent of soap with him so close. Under the products, Izuku's own scent still clung heavily. It was a more muted version, but still that same intoxicating masculine earthiness.
It made him want to bury his nose in Izuku's own neck and breathe in nothing but him.
He stalled.
What. What? What the fu-
“Thank you for breakfast, Kacchan. It looks and smells delicious.” Izuku picked his head back up with a content sigh. “Amazing as always.”
Preening under the compliment, Katsuki tossed his borderline mental breakdown out the window. “Damn right. I meant what I said – you better eat every last bite.”
“I'll try my best, Kacchan.”
Unbeknownst to them, sitting with their backs to the door, a crowd of their classmates had formed to silently watch the entire exchange.
A week passed.
Izuku called him three nights in a row, just after two in the morning, in tears. Two of the three nights, he'd fallen asleep on the phone with him. The third night, Izuku ended up in his room. The remainder of the night was spent with them watching dumb videos on Katsuki's phone until Izuku fell asleep.
This shit was starting to really piss Katsuki off.
He was getting antsy as fuck not knowing what to do, or how to deal with these…feelings. They were getting worse by the day and some of the others were starting to notice. And none of them were Izuku.
Another week dragged by.
He'd almost managed to escape anyone's prying completely, until Kirishima and Kaminari boxed him into the sauna early one Friday evening.
“Oh man, I'm so sore! I can't believe how much stronger Midoriya is physically now. I never knew fighting quirkless like that could be so fun!” Kaminari chirped, unnecessarily excitable as always.
“I know, right?! Honestly, I think him training with my Hardening has really been paying off!”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Katsuki cut in, mouth moving before he could stop himself. When the hell did this happen? Since when does Izuku train with Shitty Hair? Why didn't he tell me? Why doesn't he want to train with me?
Kirishima grinned and nodded. “Yeah, man! For the past couple weeks now. He didn't tell you?”
“That's – no, why the fuck would he need to tell me?!”
“Whoa, no need to get so defensive Bakubro-”
“I'm not being fucking defensive!”
“I just figured since you two are always together, he would have mentioned it.”
“We are not always together! You don't know what you're going on about. Just stop fucking talking about him!” Katsuki snapped, looking away as they looked at each other.
“Okay, sorry for bringing it up, dude.”
“Yeah man! My bad.”
Katsuki stormed out anyway. Fast enough to make his idiot friends (who were secretly fist-bumping) stare at him, but still careful not to set the room ablaze with his sweat. He headed straight for the showers, desperately needing to reset.
The chill of the water did little to calm his pounding heart or knotted stomach. Since when did Izuku and Kirishima train together? And when did he find the time? Shitty Hair wasn't wrong; they were together a lot. So when the hell had he managed to sneak off without Katsuki noticing his absence?
Better yet – why did he care so much?! What the hell was this sickening feeling festering within him, threatening to bubble over in the form of petty anger?
The more his thoughts ran wild, the more distraught Katsuki found himself becoming.
Fuck – he couldn't do this.
It was like something clicked within him. A piece that got jostled enough for him to throw caution to the wind and find himself standing in front of Izuku's bedroom door.
He forced himself to knock, rather than just barging in like he wanted to.
Impatience and frustration mixed with the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, putting him on edge and making him feel like a damn idiot just standing there. The seconds ticked by with no sound of movement from the other side.
Katsuki knocked again. A little less patiently this time. Finally, the desk chair squeaked, and footsteps padded over the floor.
The moment the lock clicked, Katsuki was already halfway through the door. He ignored the startled yelp from Izuku as he took him by the shoulders, kicking the door shut behind him and pushing the boy further into the room illuminated only by the dim desk lamp and laptop screen.
“K-Kacchan! Are…are you alright?” He stared at Katsuki with those massive, stunning emeralds, so full of concern and care it made him want to scream.
Focus, damn it!
“How long you been training with Shitty Hair?”
Izuku cocked his head, confusion taking hold of his features. “Kirishima-kun? What are you talking about? The only time I spar with anyone that isn't you, is during class. Besides,” a dusting of soft pink colored Izuku's cheeks, highlighting the remaining freckles. He dropped his gaze, teeth sinking into his bottom lip momentarily. “I have no interest, anyway.”
The admission somewhat blindsided Katsuki. It was exactly something the nerd would say, but had he ever been so forward? It was like a rock hitting the windshield, causing the faintest crack. Wait – he was getting fucking distracted again. Izuku couldn't lie, which only left those two morons he was going to absolutely strangle later.
They'd purposefully baited him.
Quickly releasing Izuku, a half-shove that wasn't exactly gentle, Katsuki's palms sparked and popped with quick-light anger as he seethed. Those absolute jerk-offs had nothing better to do than stick their nose into his personal life and try to fucking meddle.
He'd been too careless. Too distracted. He was turning into some pathetic, lovesick idiot, and they thought what – it would be funny to see him make a fool out of himself with Izuku? That they'd use it against him to make a mockery of his devotion?
Devotion? What?
The same moment he stilled his pacing and fireworks display, Izuku had somehow snuck up beside him, his hand extended like he wanted to touch him and thought better of it.
“Kacchan…why are you so upset?”
Lolling his head to the side, the blond stared at the other boy in utter disbelief at just how fucking dense he was. He really didn't get it? He didn't notice at all. Did he?
Katsuki thought he'd become far too obvious, and apparently, it managed to work on everyone but Izuku.
He thought Izuku wanted the same thing as him. That day in the hospital – when he'd practically staked his claim on Izuku, wanting to be on his heels forever…They'd both accepted their feelings as one, hadn't they?
Was Izuku really so blind that he hadn't understood the meaning of his words? Was Katsuki really going to have to spell this out for him and just hope for the best?
Being out of control like this made him mad. It made him want to just take charge and dominate – to just say how it was gonna be. But that wasn't an option. He couldn't and wouldn't do that to Izuku. All he could do was gamble and roll the dice.
“You haven't been training with those brainless losers.” He flicked his eyes to Izuku experimentally, leaving his gaze on him when he found him standing there, a look of soft consideration on his face.
“No, Kacchan.”
“Just me.”
“Of course.”
Katsuki's heart was thundering in his chest, the pounding echoing so loud in his ears it was a surprise Izuku couldn't hear it too. After weeks, months, of repressing his feelings and trying to convince himself that day in the hospital wasn't real. That it was just a side effect from how fucked up his body was. How many drugs he was probably hopped up on. He hadn't been in the right frame of mind. How could it have been real?
That's what he tried to force himself into believing. At first, it had helped – Katsuki thought he was getting it out of his head. But the more time he and Izuku began spending together, the more he got to actually know Izuku as a person again…Katsuki realized he had been doomed from the beginning. His feelings had begun evolving long before the war, and trying to continue denying it would eventually be his downfall.
He was Bakugou fucking Kacchan, afterall. He was the best – and like hell would he let something like this stand in his way. He needed an answer one way or another. “Only me.”
He turned fully and took a step forward, keeping his eyes trained on vibrant green that stared right back, crackling with energy. Izuku's lips were parted again, a deep rosy blush sprawling across his nose and cheeks as he quietly gasped. “Y-yeah, only Kacchan.” The blond watched the boy's mouth move, eyes drawn to the way that pink, wet tongue brushed over his bottom lip. “Was…Was Kacchan jealous?”
He dragged his eyes back up Izuku's face, stalling for a moment to consider the question. His initial reaction was to snap back at him for even insinuating something like that, but it was futile. It was fucking true. “The fuck do you think, dumb nerd.” He muttered, instinctively wanting to look away, but forcing himself to stay. He needed an answer.
“I think,” Izuku began, taking a breath and his own step forward, further into Katsuki's space. They were close. Close enough that all the blond would have to do is drop his head, and Izuku was just there, not backing down even a fraction. “I think Kacchan was jealous. Because Kacchan wants me to keep my eyes on him, and him only, right? Kacchan doesn't like to share.”
A bloom of this overwhelming sensation erupted in Katsuki’s stomach, travelling through his body like feeling nitroglycerine again for the first time. It was borderline euphoric hearing those words spoken by Izuku. Fucking hell, he never wanted to share Izuku with anyone for the rest of his life. He wanted that stupid, self-sacrificial, baggage-ridden, quirkless loser all to himself. He wanted them to be on each other's heels – forever chasing one another, pushing and striving to be the absolute best of the best with no exceptions.
No matter what, Katsuki would never stop looking at Izuku. Would never stop trying to reach him. Would never stop loving him.
Was he finally reaching him now? Could he do this without worrying about Izuku's reaction? Because they were the same, right? Their feelings were shared.
Before he could stop himself, Katsuki dropped his head, capturing Izuku's lips with his own in a short, hurried press that still somehow managed to feel like his entire body would combust.
“W-w-what was that for?! Kacchan…Kacchan, you just-”
“Kissed you. Yeah. I'm gonna do it again,” his voice rushed out, strained and pathetically desperate. He really wanted to feel how soft and plush that mouth was again. “If I can.”
Katsuki didn't get a chance to prepare himself. Izuku beat him to it, sealing their lips together in the most painfully perfect kiss. Their mouths and features melted together like they were designed for one another. Izuku's bottom lip was chapped but still somehow impossibly soft and pillowy, flawlessly sealed between Katsuki's own.
Experimentally, he passed the tip of his tongue over the already slick surface, melting at the whiny sound Izuku made in the back of his throat. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and slowly released it between the drag of his teeth, feeling as the boy shivered against him.
Against his mouth, Izuku's parted, granting and offering him more if he wanted to take it, and fuck did he want it.
Tilting his head, Katsuki's good hand slid and knotted itself into cadmium strands that were a lot silkier than they looked. His other arm snapped around Izuku's waist, hauling him flush against himself to feel every. single. inch. of his body. Casting away his inhibitions, he stopped holding back, taking exactly what he wanted.
Tentatively at first; tongues exploring and trying to figure out what felt right. Hands roamed, touched, grabbed, caressed. Their kiss deepened, breathing ragged. Izuku maneuvered Katsuki, giving his chest a shove when the back of his knees hit the mattress edge.
Flat on his back, Izuku crawled over him, straddling his hips, reconnecting their mouths like it was the only way they could breathe.
Fuck, Katsuki was an idiot too.
How long ago could he have had this? Why did it have to take everything they'd been through for him to finally pull his head out of his ass?
“Izu-”
“Later, Kacchan.”
“Fuck, Iz-”
A crooked finger was pressed to his lips as the boy Katsuki was in love with hovered above him, offering the most blinding smile. “Do you know how long I've wanted this? Please, Kacchan…just kiss me again for now. We can talk later.”
“Demanding ass nerd.” He tsked, cradling Izuku's face in his hands, pulling him back in. He'd stay here like this, at Izuku's mercy for as long as he wanted him. But curiosity was eating him alive. “How long?”
Izuku hummed, grazing his nose against Katsuki's, an arrogant little smirk pulling at his lips. “Since I learned what kissing was.”
Rolling his eyes, the blond scoffed, capturing his mouth to wipe that look off his face. He sunk his fingers deeper into those soft, thick curls, grabbing a generous fistful at the back of his head. Izuku stilled against him, his breath puffing out in quiet heaves.
Katsuki tightened his fist further, pulling slightly, until he elicited the noise he was hoping Izuku would make. Something high-pitched and breathy that caught halfway in his throat.
It was perfect. This was perfect. Izuku was perfect.
Abandoning his teasing, Katsuki let his hands travel down along Izuku's neck, over his collarbones and chest, and down his sides. He didn't know how else to explain it other than insatiable. Izuku felt so fucking good against him – on him, kissing him, touching him. He never wanted to stop. Not having him under his hands would drive him mental.
Katsuki dragged Izuku down closer, pulling him flush. “K-Kacchan,” Izuku chided, embarrassed, unable to hide his body's response.
In a rush of confidence and hazy arousal, Katsuki lazily rolled his hips, dragging himself against Izuku so he could feel he wasn't alone.
Pulling away again, those emeralds were blown wide with fascinated surprise – the kind that made Katsuki's heart stutter painfully in his chest. It was that look Izuku got when he finally really understood something.
Like yeah, Katsuki was attracted to him. Katsuki wanted him. In every single fucking way he could have him.
He would stop at nothing to prove to Izuku every day he was worthy of being the object of his affection. That they would compete, and push each other, and fight side by side for the rest of their lives.
He would stop at nothing to prove to Izuku he was worthy of being Kacchan.
I don’t know about anyone else, but letting my friends cut my hair was always a special kind of therapy. The absolute trust but also tomfoolery of cutting and changing your hair together, such a ritual of growth. And no one can quite love and criticize your hair like your closest friends.
