#barely sleeps - restless - an asshole honestly but he genuinely means well

[dogsrotten]

"this is the part where you leave ."

[jenanigans1207]

You Felt Like Mine |BakuDeku| |1|

In the end, it’s not a villain’s quirk that gets Izuku, it’s the quirk of the woman he’s rescuing.

Katsuki was there, but he didn’t see it happen. He’s only heard about it from the police officers and the woman herself. All things considered, it doesn’t sound too bad. Izuku was able to land safely before losing consciousness and Katsuki finished off the fight and rounded up the villains just fine. Katsuki found Izuku’s body slumped on the ground and walked him to the hospital himself, the woman trailing a few steps behind him, knowing she’s important but too timid to approach Katsuki directly. The walk to the hospital was short and the emergency room doctors took Izuku immediately, calling Recovery Girl and carting him off somewhere to be treated, promising they’d come find Katsuki the moment Izuku was allowed to have visitors again.

So then, Katsuki  got to do the two things that he never wanted to do: call Izuku’s mom to tell her what happened and wait.

The first was distinctly uncomfortable but it was over quickly. She begged Katsuki for details that he didn’t have yet, so the most he could do was promise to call her again when he knew more. He did his best to be reassuring without lying to her and honestly, he was pretty shit at it. But Inko knew him well and appreciated his efforts all the same.

The second, though, that was nearly torture. Katsuki wasn’t known for being patient on his good days and shit like having his hero partner and best friend down was not considered a good day. He paced Izuku’s room restlessly, blatantly ignoring the chair that was situated right next to his bed and bristling every time somebody suggested that he take a seat.

In the end, the quirk wasn’t that harmful, although it did make Katsuki feel like his stomach was an anchor, sinking slowly to his goddamn feet.

The woman who had accidentally discharged her quirk on him was more than happy to explain all of the details to them, apologizing profusely for any trouble she had caused. She absolutely hadn’t meant to use her quirk, but she’d been so frightened in the moment that she’d briefly lost control. Katsuki wasn’t particularly inclined to forgive her, especially given the nature of her quirk, but he bit his tongue and swallowed the words because he was a pro hero and she was a civilian and he had no right to say the things he wanted to say to her.

“It’s sort of a memory loss quirk.” She at least had the decency to look sheepish and that alone was probably the only reason Katsuki didn’t flip the table between them. “But it doesn’t erase someone’s entire memory! It only erases their memories… of the person they love the most.”

The entire room got very, very still after that, everyone staring at her and waiting for her to say something else. Katsuki can’t speak for anyone else, but he’s personally waiting for her to take it back and say that this is some kind of sick fucking joke.

She doesn’t.

“They can get their memories back!” She rushes on, placing her palms flat on the table, likely to steel herself. Katsuki knows the weight of his stare can be pretty heavy but he couldn’t possibly be bothered to care. “It’s just that, ah, the person they love needs them to fall in love with them again.”

Katsuki sucks a breath in through his teeth, trying to use it to calm himself down. It doesn’t work, but he has enough practice at not cussing out people he’s meant to protect by now that he can at least get through his question with some semblance of civility. “So what you’re telling us,” He begins stiffly, his shoulders feeling tight. “Is that Deku is going to wake up and he’s going to remember absolutely everything except one person? And whoever that person he forgot is, that’s the person he’s secretly in love with? And that person, whoever they are,” Katsuki is so close to smashing his fist through the wall or exploding the table to smithereens between all of them. Holding his anger in check is getting physically painful. “Has to get Deku to fall in love with them again, or he’ll never remember who they are? Am I missing anything?”

Despite his clearly simmering rage, all eyes in the room remained glued on the woman as Katsuki talked, gauging her reaction and waiting for her to respond. She looked down at her hands on the table, bottom lip wobbling and it only served to piss Katsuki off further. She had no right to be upset right now. She wasn’t about to find out that her best friend and closest person  was in love with someone else. She got to walk out of here and go back to her life, all of this forgotten. But Katsuki was moments away from facing one of his worst nightmares. So fuck her and her wobbling lip, she wouldn’t be getting any sympathy from Katsuki.

“No,” She replies quietly, “You didn’t miss anything. You’ve got it all right.”

“Fucking splendid.” Katsuki growls, knowing he’s going to get reprimanded by Izuku for that when he hears about it. And he will hear about it because he somehow manages to hear about everything, all the time.

It’s not like Izuku’s scoldings have stopped him in the past, though. Although, Katsuki will admit that Izuku has helped shape him into a better person, one more fit to be a protector of society, if only barely.  Izuku spent his entire life at Katsuki’s side, enduring his scalding moods, getting his ear chewed off repeatedly and having his ass blasted to high heaven on more than one occasion. But Izuku also stayed at Katsuki’s side when he decided to become less of an asshole (less being the operative word), when he went through a rough few years trying to find out who he was. Izuku was still by his side, to this day, smiling through his verbal beatdowns and picking him up whenever he fell. The one constant in Katsuki’s life was izuku.

And yet, despite all of that, and behind everyone’s backs, Izuku had fallen in love with someone. At least, that was the only thing Katsuki could assume. There was a slim— very, very marginally slim— chance that Izuku didn’t love anyone and would wake up perfectly fine and Katsuki could let out a breath of relief and tease the damn nerd relentlessly for it. But the odds of that were so slim that Katsuki didn’t even let himself consider it. It was only reasonable to assume that Izuku loved somebody. The kid was warmth and sunshine and happiness and full of so much goddamn love that he just exuded it. It spilled over without him even trying, pouring from his heart like he just made too much of it to keep to himself.

Izuku not finding someone to love was nearly impossible to believe.

These thoughts burn through Katsuki’s mind as he stands from the table and stalks away, heading back to Izuku’s room. He has no further questions for the woman, doesn’t care what the cops end up doing with her. Likely she’ll get fined for using her quirk against a pro hero, even if it was an accident, but it doesn’t really matter. All Katsuki wants is some distance from this. He wants to simultaneously get it over with and run from it completely. He doesn’t want to find out who Izuku is in love with, but it doesn’t seem like there’s much of a choice in the matter.

The back of his throat tastes bitter with emotions he swallowed down a long time ago.

He pushes open the door to Izuku’s room and strides in confidently, halfway to the bed before he realizes there’s a pair of green eyes staring back at him from amongst the blankets. “Oh thank fuck.” he says, eyes landing on Deku.

The relief he feels is small, but he refuses to focus on the other emotion swirling in his gut, the dread. He doesn’t want to know who Izuku secretly loves, he thinks again, doesn’t think his life— or heart— needs that information. Doesn’t think he can handle that information. And he’s damn certain that he won’t be able to handle watching whoever it is make Izuku fall back in love with them.

And no, thanks, Bakugo won’t admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He won’t say anything of the like, mind your fucking business.

“Honestly, you chose the middle of the battle to try and catch up on some beauty sleep?” He gripes as he finally takes a seat in the chair next to Izuku’s bed. He’d been too restless before, too anxious for Izuku to open his eyes to sit. But now that Izuku was awake and Katsuki knew that nothing life threatening had come from that quirk, he could settle his nerves enough to sit relatively still.  “Leaving me to do all the hard work? That’s pretty low. Especially for you, Deku.”

The use of his name seems to surprise Izuku whose eyes suddenly become wide saucers staring back at Katsuki. “You know who I am?”

“The fuck?” Katsuki meets his gaze head on, eyebrows knitted together in frustrated confusion. What was the nerd on about this time? “Of course I know who you are, you idiot. What kind of question is that? I’m not the one who got hit with a quirk.”

“Hit with a quirk…” Izuku mumbles and immediately, Katsuki can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to piece it all together. It should be relatively easy, given what the woman had said. Izuku should, as far as Katsuki had clarified, remember every single thing but this one person. So he should know that he’s a pro hero, that he was in a fight, that he’s Katsuki’s hero partner and together they have been topping the polls consistently since they graduated.

He shouldn’t, however, be surprised that his childhood friend, middle school rival and then high school half-friend is sitting in his hospital room, aware of who he is and waiting for him to wake up. So truthfully, Katsuki’s not really sure what to do with that information.

“Real inconvenient for me, nerd.” Katsuki mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it and he’s sure Izuku knows that.

Despite the fact that they’d grown closer again, despite the fact that Izuku had forgiven Katsuki for all the terrible years of their past even without receiving a formal apology, they still interacted in much the same way they always had. It was just that the genuine bite and the underlying hatred was gone from it. But their interactions were a sort of comfort to both of them, a defining characteristic of a relationship that they both held dear, even if Izuku was the only one to ever really put that into words. Katsuki still used his nicknames for Izuku, still bristled when the man interrupted him. But now, Izuku smiled through those things, bumping his shoulders with Katsuki’s and laughing at the pinched expression on his face.

Katsuki certainly hadn’t ever succeeded at pushing Izuku away— not even at his worst— so he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t about to succeed at it now. And this resignation seemed to give Izuku a boldness and a sense of belonging that allowed him to nestle right in along Katsuki’s heart and refuse to apologize for being there.

“Is that why you know me, then?” Izuku asks, completely bypassing Katsuki’s comment. Katsuki has the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask Izuku what the fuck he’s on about again and to tell him what a stupid question that is when Izuku deals a blow that Katsuki did not see coming. “Because I don’t know you.”

The entire world grinds to painful, screeching halt around Katsuki as he stares at Izuku, mouth open as he tries to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to say back to that. Unsurprisingly, nothing really comes to mind, so he snaps his jaw shut and just stares at Izuku, bores into him, pleads with him to take back his stupid, sick joke. He glares at Izuku with as much force as he can muster under the situation and watches as the seconds tick by and Izuku wilts under the weight of it.

“I’m sorry!” Izuku rushes, reading Katsuki’s expression clearly and easily. “It’s obvious that we know each other somehow. I just— I don’t remember. Did I hit my head? Or— what does that quirk I got hit with do? Is that why I don’t remember you? I feel so terrible!”

“Deku,” Katsuki says evenly, hands gripping the arm rests of the chair with so much force that he might snap them right off. “This isn’t funny. This is a really shitty joke.”

Izuku is gripping the blankets in his lap with equal force, looking distressed. Katsuki knows that look, and can read how genuine it is with ease. He’s seen it on Izuku’s face so many times over the years. And truthfully, Izuku would never play a prank like this, Katsuki knows that, even if he can’t believe what’s actually happening. Izuku really, truly, has no idea who he is. “I’m not joking! Please— please tell me about the quirk. When does it wear off? What can I do to remember you?”

A long silence stretches between the two of them. It’s just quiet. Everywhere. In the room, in Katsuki’s mind, everywhere. There isn’t a single sound, not one fucking thing breaking their eye contact, but Katsuki waits. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for— something, anything to break the trance, to make Izuku admit that, for the first time ever in his entire goddamn life, he decided to play a practical joke. He waits for the woman to come in and say she explained it wrong, that Katsuki somehow misunderstood the information she had given him. He waits, he fucking waits, but none of that comes.

The thing to finally break the silence is Izuku, eyes cast downwards as he fiddles with the blanket and Katsuki’s heart is ripping open in his chest. “I really am sorry. I get the impression that we’re close.”

Finally, Katsuki releases the arms of the chair, scrubbing his hands across his face. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, but it doesn’t help. It’s not anger that’s swirling around in his gut, it’s something else. Something he doesn’t know how to deal with. It’s an emotion that he recognizes, even if he’s refused, repeatedly, to put a name to it. It makes him feel sick, jittery, wrong.

But he has to at least start giving Izuku some answers. “We’re hero partners.” He begins, moving his hands up to grip fistfulls of his hair so that way they aren’t muffling his words. “And best friends. We’ve known each other our entire lives.”

Izuku’s eyes are impossibly wide as they snap back up to meet Katsuki’s gaze. For a brief moment, Katsuki thanks whatever god has chosen to fuck him over for at least being kind enough to not make Izuku cry. It was something Izuku had— mostly— grown out of over the years and it’s the only blessing Katsuki has in this moment because he’s never been good at dealing with anyone who cries, especially Izuku.

“We have?” There’s so much tangible pain in Izuku’s voice that Katsuki immediately reverts back to wanting to punch a hole in the wall.

It’s pretty typically his go-to reaction. It’s a feeling he knows how to handle.

“Yeah. And your ass landed in the hospital leaving me with the job of calling your mom and telling her the bad news.” Katsuki grumbles, because he’ll tell Izuku damn near anything he wants to know, but he won’t tell him about the quirk. He can’t. He can’t even believe it himself, there’s no way in hell he’s going to say it out loud to Izuku. “So thanks for that.”

Izuku doesn’t say anything for a long moment as he considers all of this information. Katsuki knows it’s only a matter of time before he brings the quirk back up, so he needs to get out now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in another deep breath and trying to sort through whatever the hell is going on here. He knows what it all looks like, but he can’t believe it. He won’t.

He spent years being an absolute dick to Izuku and he never properly apologized. He doesn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship and he knows it, so he sure as shit doesn’t deserve his love, leaving aside whether or not he wants it. If there’s one thing Katsuki can say about himself, it’s that he doesn’t take shit he doesn’t deserve. He earns everything.

The only reason he accepted Izuku’s friendship without a formal apology is because he worked hard to stop treating the nerd like shit. He made a point to have his back, to support him, to encourage him. He may not have apologized, but he still put in a lot of work. And even then, he had days where he knew he didn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of it, either. He didn’t want to and there wasn’t a high hope in hell that Izuku would let Katsuki slip through his fingers a second time. He’d said so in no uncertain terms.

Despite Katsuki’s turmoil, Izuku is still being, well, Izuku. He’s smiling a little wistfully down at the blankets, clearly not put out by the entire situation. “I have a hero partner?” He says after a long moment, looking up to meet Katsuki’s gaze with shining eyes, “That’s so cool! I always wanted one of those! Are we any good?”

“You bet your ass we are.” Katsuki replies, smiling a little despite himself. Only Izuku could find learning about his one life exciting. “Number one.”

At that, Izuku’s face absolutely lights up. “Really?”

“Hell yeah.” Katsuki drops his hands down into his lap, suddenly feeling like he has no idea what to do with them. “But I can tell you more about that later. Right now you need to get better.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, realizing too belatedly that he brought up Izuku’s condition again and it would no doubt lead to the one question he was trying to avoid.

Sure enough, Izuku jumps at the opportunity. “Right! You still haven’t told me about this quirk. How does it work? What does it do? When does it wear off?”

Part of his curiosity is no doubt in relation to his own condition but the vast majority of it, Katsuki assumes, is because he’s Izuku. Which means that he’s basically a walking encyclopedia for quirks and makes it a point to know anything and everything about every quirk he encounters. There isn’t an ounce of doubt in Katsuki’s mind that he’s going to be asking for a pen and paper at some point and scribbling down everything he’s told, mixing it with his first hand experience to gain a comprehensive understanding. There’s a reason Katsuki calls him a damn nerd.

Just the mention of the quirk has Katsuki’s throat feeling tight so he grapples for an escape, knowing that sooner or later he’ll have to face what’s happening. He’s definitely picking later. “I’ll let the doctor explain it all to you once he checks you out. I’ll go grab him so just hold tight.”

Izuku nods, reclining in his bed comfortably as Katsuki stands stiffly from his seat and exits the room almost mechanically. He catches the doctor in the hallway, barely manages to choke out that Izuku’s awake and asking questions and then he does the one thing he does best when it comes to emotions— runs.

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“Wait, he’s my boyfriend?”  Izuku asks in disbelief, falling back onto the pillows behind him. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, now, I’m not saying that.” The doctor was smiling at Izuku, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m saying that the quirk made you forget the person you loved the most. What you two are to each other, outside of hero partners, is not known to the public so I honestly have no idea.”

In truth, that makes the most sense. Izuku may not remember the guy who was in his room earlier— the doctor only refers to him by his hero name which helps, but not a ton— but he remembers absolutely everything else as far as he can tell. And he knows that he wouldn’t want that sort of information to go public. He wouldn’t want to put his potential partner in danger, even if they were another pro hero. Even if Izuku knew that they were more than capable of taking care of themselves— and that guy certainly looked and sounded like he could take care of himself.

And honestly, it’s better to find out what they are from Ground Zero— Izuku is left referring to him by his hero name, too, until he can figure out his real name— instead of the doctor anyways. That kind of conversation was no doubt laced with a lot of emotions on a good day, and could only be charged with even more emotions now that Izuku didn’t remember. He hoped that he hadn’t hurt Ground Zero’s feelings, hadn’t in some way made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Izuku knew that didn’t make sense, but he wouldn’t feel better until he heard Ground Zero say it. So Izuku shelves his personal questions until he gets a chance to meet with him again.

“Right, okay, that’s fair.” Izuku agrees kindly. “So what’s the catch? How do I get my memories back? I can get them back, right?”

Izuku can’t honestly imagine many things worse than forgetting the person he was in love with. He can’t imagine what Ground Zero must be feeling, what he must be thinking. He didn’t come back with the doctor, but Izuku can only assume that he, too, is trying to keep whatever their personal relationship is under wraps and doesn’t want to expose anything, even to the doctor. Izuku appreciates the gesture, and the fact that, at the very least, they’re clearly on the same page about things.

“Yes, you can get them back.” The doctor replies, but then he hesitates for a long moment. His eyes finally drift away from Izuku, looking down at his chart, at the whiteboard on the wall next to his bed, pretty much anywhere but at izuku himself. “It’s just that, ah, you have to fall in love with him again.”

There’s a pause where the doctor is clearly waiting for Izuku to react negatively, but honestly? Izuku can’t see what’s so bad about that. He was in love with Ground Zero before, he can’t imagine it would be hard to fall in love with him again. And they’re hero partners, giving him plenty of time to spend with Ground Zero and to get to know him again. Really, as far as outcomes of quirks that Izuku has been subjected to, this is easily one of the most benign.

Even if falling in love with him again hadn’t been the catch of the quirk, Izuku imagines he would have done it. If he was so in love with Ground Zero that this quirk was able to sink its claws into those feelings and yank them away, he doesn’t know how anyone could expect him to be around Ground Zero and not immediately fall back in love. Izuku doesn’t even think he’s going to have to try, he thinks it’ll likely just happen.

“Okay?” Izuku breaks the silence, the question of why that’s a bad thing clear in his voice.

“Okay.” The doctor replies, clearly relieved. “That’s all the information I have for you. As far as everything else goes, you’re in perfect health. I’ll write a letter to your agency letting them know that you’re fit to return to your work and the rest is up to you.”

Easy enough, honestly. Izuku smiles at him, grateful. “Thank you so much for your help, sir.”

The doctor smiles at him again, scribbling a few things down on his chart before hooking it to the edge of his bed. “Oh,” He says after a moment, reaching into the pocket of his lab coat and fishing something out. “Here’s your phone. Ground Zero left it with me to give back to you.”

Izuku reaches out and takes the phone— completely unscathed somehow, despite the sheer number of times it’s been in battle with him— and he feels a little bit better with it in his grasp. He imagines that his phone is going to provide him a lot of answers and he needs those. Izuku has always felt better with more information and that was a million times more true when that information was directly about his life and his past— and the person he’s in love with.

The doctor nods in response to Izuku’s grateful smile and heads towards the door, pausing before he exits the room completely to turn back and look at Izuku. “And Deku? I promise word of this won’t get out. I’m sure you guys have kept your life private for a reason, and I’ll do everything in my power to help it stay that way.”

That is a really big relief. The last thing Izuku needed was their relationship coming out when he, personally, didn’t remember any of it. If they ever decided to go public, he wanted it to be just that— their decision.  “Thank you,” he says again, with so much gratitude it brings a smile to the doctors face.

Then the doctor does take his leave, promising to have the discharge paperwork handled in a couple hours so that Izuku can go home. Until then, Izuku is left alone with his thoughts and boy, does he have a lot of them.

The first thing Izuku does is move to unlock his phone. He doesn’t even get to put his password in before he sees Ground Zero again. As it turns out, his background is a picture of the two of them, Ground Zero scowling at the camera and Izuku at his side, smiling widely as he leans into him, one hand giving him bunny ears. Immediately, it makes Izuku smile. He spends a long few minutes just looking at the photo, tapping his screen every time it starts to go dark, just examining Ground Zero’s features, the closeness of their bodies, the clear and unadulterated happiness on his own face.

The guy in the room earlier— he seemed so… gruff, maybe. Izuku couldn’t put his finger on it right away, but he seemed like he was rough around the edges. Still, there had been worry in his eyes, so Izuku had no doubt that he had a kind and genuine heart. Izuku could see all of these things reflected in the photo. The way he scowled matched his callous exterior that Izuku had noticed earlier. But he was clearly not pushing Izuku away in the photo, wasn’t leaning away from him or trying to put any space between them. And honestly, if Izuku looked really close, he could see a fond edge to the frown.

He tapped on the screen again, giving him a better view to look at the photo. Ground Zero was handsome, there was no denying that. Sharp jaw, deep eyes and a well defined body. At the very least, Izuku considered himself pretty lucky to have won over the heart of someone so attractive.He flushed a little at his own thought, realizing that it probably only seemed foreign because he couldn’t remember the guy. He’d probably had a million thoughts similar to that in the past and he was pretty certain he’d have thoughts like it again in the future.

Still, his ears burned.

Quickly, Izuku forced himself to move past that train of thought, focusing on the next piece of information he had about the guy: they were hero partners! And childhood friends! It really is so easy for him to believe he was in love with this man. Everything he’s heard about this situation so far sounds exactly like the kind of situation that would lead to a fulfilling romance. He wonders when it happened— which one of them confessed first. He wonders about their first kiss, about the nights they have spent together. Do they live together?

His face flushes with the thoughts, a deep red to match the tips of his ears as he finally unlocks his phone and actually begins to look through it. The first thing he does is look through his text messages. The very top thread in his list is one labeled Kacchan with a picture of Ground Zero next to it. Okay, alright, that was definitely a big step in the right direction. At least he now had something to call him other than his hero name. And, Kacchan… that was clearly a nickname, something that he’d only use if they were close.

Izuku smiled to himself as he opened the thread and scrolled through it. Nothing hugely important inside, mostly discussions about work and details of plans they’d made. No love declarations, nothing particularly mushy. It struck Izuku as a little odd, but he could still believe it. These sorts of things got leaked all the time— it was one of the biggest hazards of being a hero. And if what Kacchan had told him was true, being number one heroes just made them more susceptible to this sort of thing.

And for all he knew, they did live together, so there was no need for romantic things through text messages. If they lived together and were also hero partners, they probably spent all day every day together, leaving them with plenty of time to have those sorts of conversations in person.

While still in the thread, he clicks in the box at the bottom, bringing up the keyboard and firing off a quick text: Are you coming back?

Next, he moves on to his camera roll, not surprised to find it filled to the brim with his friends, Kacchan included. In almost all of the photos, Kacchan is scowling the same as his background photo, but the more Izuku looks at it, the more endearing he finds it. He keeps flipping through photos until he pauses on one, heart stuttering to a stop in his chest. In this photo, Izuku isn’t looking at the camera. The photo is clearly taken by someone else and must have been sent to him, but he can understand immediately why he saved it.

He’s not looking at the camera, his gaze somewhere off to the side. Kacchan is sitting by his side, gaze turned on Izuku, eyes so soft they look like molten lava. The edges of his lips are quirked up in the first smile Izuku has seen on him and the genuine affection is so visible that Izuku can feel it rolling over him in waves just looking at it.

With his heart filled to the brim, Izuku locks his phone, pressing it against his chest tightly, as if he could place that specific photo in his heart forever. The smile on his face is so big, his cheeks nearly hurt. He closes his eyes, feeling a little better. He learned enough from his phone to at least understand that what the doctor and Kacchan had told him were true— not that he doubted either one of them!-- but there are still so many things that he wants to know. So, he gets comfortable in his bed, never letting his phone stray far from his heart, and spends the hours waiting for the discharge paperwork fantasizing about their life and what it’ll be like to fall in love with him again.

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Katsuki doesn’t even bother knocking. It’s been ages since he felt the need to knock at Eijiro’s place and he isn’t about to start now. He’d sent a quick text to Eijiro on the way just to let him know that he was coming. He hadn’t explained anything, hadn’t told him what happened. He wasn’t honestly sure he was ready to tell him what happened but he needed to tell someone.

He probably should’ve told Inko when he called her back, but he didn’t. He had bitched out and lied to her. Okay, so he’d told her a lot of the truth, actually. He’d just said that it was a quirk that caused random memory loss and nobody was sure exactly how deep it went, but that it should be pretty easy to reverse. So it really wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Because the truth— the real truth, not just the truth of Izuku’s condition— was that Katsuki was terrified that Inko would tell him he wasn’t good enough for Izuku. She’d be absolutely correct and he knows that, but he doesn’t think he could handle hearing it from her.

Though, really, he knows she’d never say that to him.

Izuku has always gotten his forgiveness and his kind nature from his mother. She had been more than willing to forgive Katsuki in the same way Izuku had, inviting him over for family dinners and sending him gifts on his birthday. She would never see the bad in him and would never tell him that he didn’t deserve her son, no matter how much it was true. And maybe that’s the thing that scared him most of all. Maybe he was even more afraid of being given a chance and fucking it up, because that’s what he did with most chances he was given.

It takes him a moment to kick off his shoes once he’s inside Eijiro’s apartment, trying to fend off thoughts of Inko, Izuku and what they both think of him. Although he’s about to be bringing that topic right back up. And honestly, he wasn’t going to be successful with his attempts, anyways, and he’s fully aware of that. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to think of anything else for a long time, if ever.

“Hey, bro!” Eijiro greets, raising a hand up in the air. He’s sprawled out on his couch, just enough room for Katsuki to come and join him.

Katsuki stops by the fridge on his way, grabbing a bottle of water before joining Eijiro in the family room. He’s not particularly thirsty but holding the bottle will give him something to do with his hands and a way to delay answering if he really needs to. With a gruff sigh, he flops onto the couch, whacking Eijiro’s feet away so they’re not right next to his face.

Eijiro just laughs, pulling his legs back and propping himself up a little. “What’s up, man? You look stressed,”

“It’s Deku.” Katsuki begins, trying his best to seem composed. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he figures it’s probably best to just dive on in. Like ripping off a bandaid— just get it over with.

Eijiro rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “It’s always Izuku.”

Katsuki bites back a snarl, trying to figure out how in the hell he’s supposed to explain any of what happened today to Eijiro. The villain attack— that part will be easy. But everything after that… “He’s in love with me.”

Immediately, Katsuki flinches away from his own words, hand fisting so tightly that the water bottle nearly explodes in his hand. Eijiro stills next to him, his entire body freezing in its place. And then, all at once, a smile spreads out across his lips, turning into a grin that Katsuki has seen far too many times. It’s the kind of grin that’s knowing, the grin he gives when someone else finally finds out the thing he’s known all along.

“He finally told you, huh?” Eijiro asks, and he almost looks proud.

“You fucking knew?” Katsuki explodes, slamming the water bottle down on the table in front of the couch. “You knew and you didn’t ever say anything?”

Immediately, Eijiro is holding his hands up in front of him in surrender, but he’s still smiling and clearly not even the least bit bothered by Katsuki’s outburst. “I assumed. I mean, dude, come on. It’s pretty obvious. He’s been in love with you since we were in school. Probably even longer.”

Katsuki is fuming, and he thinks smoke might literally be coming out of his ears. What in the actual fuck. There is no way that Izuku has been in love with him since high school and definitely no chance he was in love with Katsuki before that. They weren’t even that close for a large part of that time. There’s absolutely no way— the idea is just asinine— Katsuki doesn’t even know how to express how utterly stupid Eijiro sounds.

“That’s such shit.” Katsuki spits, turning his gaze away. Eijiro’s smile has turned into more of a shit eating grin as he watches Katsuki’s reaction to the news.

“Whatever. So how did he tell you?” He asks. When Katsuki bristles and doesn’t respond right away, Eijiro nudges him with his foot, earning a wicked slap to the ankle.

“He didn’t tell me, that’s half the fucking problem!” Katsuki finally says, grabbing a pillow and using it to pin Eijiro’s feet to the couch. “He got hit with a fucking quirk that made him forget the person he loved the most.”

It doesn’t take more than half a second for the information to click into Eijiro’s mind. Katsuki can see the exact moment he registers what he’s being told and then he’s just staring at Katsuki in disbelief instead of anything else. “He forgot you?”

This time, when Katsuki responds, it’s not angry or bitter or any of the usual scathing things. If anything, it’s dejected and a little bit broken. “Didn’t have a fucking clue who I was.”

Eijiro sits up properly finally, scooting so he can bump his shoulder with Katsuki’s, his tone softening to match the same emotions. “Well, this is a good thing, isn’t it? That he loves you?”

“Why the hell would that be a good thing?” Katsuki asks, but he still can’t put any conviction behind it,

“C’mon, bro.” Eijiro nudges him again. “I know you don’t want to admit it but you’ve also been in love with him since high school. Maybe you guys can finally make it work.”

No, not even to Eijiro who is, aside from Izuku, Katsuki’s closest person will he admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He absolutely will not say that he’s been in love with him since high school, that he was probably in love with him in middle school too but his habit of picking on Izuku for being quirkless was too ingrained to stop. He won’t say that he was probably in love with Izuku in middle school but mad at himself for treating him like such shit for so long that he denied and repressed those feelings and it only led him to treating Izuku worse. He will not say any of those things, not even when Eijiro is looking at him with soft eyes that clearly already know all of these things, even if Katsuki has literally never put words to them before.

“Fuck off.” Katsuki replies instead of acknowledging anything Eijiro said. His tone is defeated and he’s staring down into his lap.

With a sigh, Eijiro moves on to the next logical question and Katsuki honestly isn’t really glad about that. “Can he get his memories back? Does he remember everything else?”

“He remembers everything ‘cept me.” Katsuki hates the way the words hurt, hates how upset he is that he’s no longer in Izuku’s mind. He hates the way the words taste bitter on his tongue as he spits them out like venom. “And there’s one way to get his memories back.”

“But?” Eijiro prompts when he doesn’t immediately continue.

“But it’s fucking ridiculous.” Katsuki grabs the water bottle again, snapping the lid off and bringing it up to his mouth to take a drink. He’s still not thirsty but he really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s quickly regretting ever bringing it up. Eijiro watches him the entire time, clearly aware of what he’s trying to do and determined to wait him out. Once Katsuki chugs half of the bottle and Eijiro is still waiting for an answer, he lets out a growl and finally just puts it out there. “He has to fall in love with me again.”

He expects Eijiro to burst out in delighted laughter and is surprised when he remains somber, eyebrows drawn together as he studies Katsuki’s expression. “This quirk is literally forcing you to shoot your shot.”

“I don’t want to fucking shoot it, though.” Katsuki grimaces, realizing too late that it hints towards some emotions that he’s denying.

Eijiro kindly pretends he didn't hear it. “You don’t want him to keep forgetting you, either.”

No, Katsuki doesn’t want that. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stand that. After everything he’s gone through in his life, his anchor is Izuku and the way he says Kacchan so brightly. He doesn’t know how to face a day without Izuku by his side. Seriously, he’s never had to do it. Even in the depths of his worst days, Izuku didn’t give up on him.

Katsuki knows that the least he can do— the literal bare minimum— is to refuse to give up on Izuku now. But not giving up on Izuku comes at such a strange price.

“You’ve met the guy, right?” Katsuki says instead. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and he already hates it, already feels uncomfortable, like his skin is crawling and he needs to get out before he gets in deeper. “He’s actual fucking sunshine. Have you ever seen him do a mean thing? To anyone? He is kind and he cares.” Eijiro is nodding along, clearly having no idea where Katsuki is headed with this but agreeing with his assessment of Izuku all the same. “And have you ever seen me be nice to somebody? We don’t match. I would just make him miserable.”

“What are you suggesting?” There’s a dangerous edge to Eijiro’s voice.

Katsuki crushes the water bottle in his hand. “Maybe he’d be fucking better off without me. Maybe I’d be doing him a favor—”

A pillow makes contact with his face before he can get any further into his idea. Immediately he’s ripping the pillow away from Eijiro, whirling on him with wild eyes. He’s about half a second away from blowing Eijiro to the moon, palms feeling hot with the desire to set off some explosions when Eijiro replaces the pillow with his own hand and smacks Katsuki upside the head.

“You’re an absolute idiot.” He says sternly, completely unflinching in the face of Katsuki’s burning anger. “Besides the fact that it doesn’t make sense logistically, that’s an absolutely terrible idea. Do you really think that’s what Izuku would want? After all those years, you really think he’d want to forget you?”

“It’s not always about what he wants!” Katsuki slams the pillow down on the couch between them before launching to his feet and taking angry laps around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists as he goes. “I know I don’t have a habit of looking out for people, okay? I fucking know. But try and tell me this wouldn’t be better for him! Try and tell me his life wouldn’t be better if I wasn’t fucking in it.”

“Okay,” Eijiro says and he’s clearly getting riled up, too. It’s a rare sight for Katsuki because Eijiro is typically very calm and the first to bring someone to a peaceful place. “I’ll be happy to tell you. Izuku’s life wouldn’t be better if you weren’t in it. I mean, seriously? Are you fucking stupid?”

And that is even rarer. Eijiro certainly never balks when Katsuki swears, but he rarely does it himself. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, man. I get that you feel like shit for how you treated him in the past. I get that you’re scared—” Katsuki opens his mouth to protest vehemently but shuts it the moment Eijiro’s angry gaze settles on him. “But he’s in love with you. You know him better than anybody else, do you really think it would be better for him to give that up? If you want to do right by him, get your head out of your ass, straighten your spine and be a man. Own up to your feelings and try to make it work.”

The outburst stopped Katsuki dead in his tracks and he stands completely still, staring almost blankly at Eijiro. He’s never had anyone talk to him like that. All of the anger deflates out of him at once and he sinks to a crouch in the middle of the room. He knows Eijiro is right— to do right by Izuku he needs to stop beating around the bush. After he’d made the first steps all those years ago, they’d managed to get closer. Maybe it was time for the next step.

“I don’t deserve him.” Katsuki is outright broken now, Eijiro’s verbal beatdown landing more than a few winning blows.

“That’s his choice to make, not yours.” Eijiro stands and crosses the room, crouching down, too, and placing a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “And you have to let him make that choice. You can’t make it for him.”

“When the fuck did you get wise?” Katsuki barks and Eijiro laughs, all of his rage from earlier completely gone. “I didn’t come here for a goddamn therapy session.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him? Talk to him, not yell at him, belittle him and then try and push him away.” Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s shoulder fondly as he says it.

It takes a moment for Katsuki to respond, too busy thinking about how well Eijiro knows him, about how badly Eijiro just wants the best for him. He’s grateful for his friendship and makes a mental note to tell him so one day. “Yeah, yeah, I fucking promise or whatever.”

“Great.” Eijiro stands back up, groaning and stretching out his legs. “Now quit your moping, we’re ordering pizza.”

------------------------

It’s barely even a few hours later when the doctor comes back in his room, flanked by two of Izuku’s closest friends, discharge paperwork in hand. He talks to Izuku briefly again, reminding him that there isn’t anything else wrong with his health but nobody is sure if the quirk could potentially have other side effects so he needs to keep a careful eye on himself while he navigates whatever he chooses to do next. Izuku understands, stating as much, and thanks the doctor for all of his help. With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, he takes his leave and suddenly it’s just Izuku, Ochako and Tenya in the room.

“Why does it seem like you end up in the hospital once a week?” Ochako says, taking his paperwork from his hands so that he can slip his shoes on easier.

“It’s not that often.” Izuku defends, although it really does feel that way some days.

Call it an occupational hazard.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Tenya says, clapping him on the shoulder once he’s upright. “And I’m glad the doctor came to discharge you because I’m starving.”

“Yes!” Ochako agrees immediately, “Lunch before we take you home! We haven’t seen you in forever!”

The interesting thing that Izuku has noticed in the last few hours is that it feels like parts of his memory are missing entirely. He can only assume that those chunks of time were times when he was with Kacchan and losing the memories of him made Izuku lose the memories of that entire time. It’s still a strange sensation though, to feel like he has so many large holes in his memory.

Despite that, though, he knows it really hasn’t been that long since he’s seen Ochako and Tenya. He can remember seeing them about two weeks ago when they’d come over to his apartment for movie night. Which raises the question of where Kacchan was during that time. Or maybe they didn’t live together, Izuku still wasn’t sure.

That aside, he’s not going to disagree with his friends. “Lunch sounds great.”

Technically it’s a little late for lunch, but it’s still too early for dinner. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the sun is beating down on them, not a single cloud in the sky. Izuku falls into step with his friends as they lead him down the street and towards a new cafe that Ochako had heard only good things about. Ochako and Tenya were in street clothes, this being their day off apparently, but Izuku was still in his hero uniform. It got him a lot of smiles and friendly waves on the street that he willingly returned.

“Am I really number one?” He asks after a group of girls ask to take their picture with him. “Like, actually?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” Ochako teases, nudging him playfully. “Especially since you’ve got to make up for Katsuki and his bad attitude.”

She’s obviously kidding— it’s clear in the fond way she says it— but it still gives Izuku a moment of pause. His brain’s immediate response is to snag on the name Katsuki and to immediately see how he shortened that to Kacchan. Alright, he tells himself, another step in the right direction. He now actually knows the guy's name. Or most of it, anyways. The next moment, though, he’s thinking about the bad attitude she mentioned. It’s probably just that callous exterior. She said it with enough kindness that Izuku can tell immediately that she doesn’t actually think he has a bad attitude, or at least, it’s not enough to sour her image of him.

“He’s not that bad.” Izuku says despite himself, realizing that he doesn’t really know Katsuki well enough anymore to be making such a statement. Still, it rings true in his head and even though he doesn’t know Katsuki, he knows he’s right. He wouldn’t fall in love with someone who was awful.

“To you.” Tenya replies as they finally make it to the cafe. Tenya holds the door for the other two of them, trailing in after Izuku and adding. “He has a soft spot for you now.”

That brings a smile to Izuku’s face as he waits for the hostess to direct them to a table. The move towards their designated table in a single file line so as not to leave room for other patrons to pass them by. They end up in a booth, Ochako and Tenya taking one side and leaving Izuku to have the entire other half to himself.

“He’s always had a soft spot for you,” Ochako comments as if their conversation hadn’t been put on pause during the walk to their table. “He’s just better at actually showing it now.”

“Really?” Izuku wishes he could remember it. He wishes so badly to remember what it was like, when things changed. He could only assume that he was elated when the shift began and this soft spot started to become more obvious. “When did that change?”

Tenya gets halfway through his sentence before Ochako cuts him off. “Why, can’t you see—”

“--wait.” She is leaning forward onto the table the tiniest bit, palms flat against the top of it as she scrutinizes Izuku’s face. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to know?” Izuku replies first before realizing that he hasn’t told them anything about the quirk that was discharged against him so they don’t have the context to understand. “Oh.” He says next, shaking his head. He glances around quickly to make sure nobody is eavesdropping on their conversation before lowering his voice a little to explain. “Sorry, right, you don’t have all the info. That quirk that landed me in the hospital? It made me forget the person I loved the most. Everything about them. So I don’t remember anything you guys are talking about right now.”

There’s a long moment where Tenya and Ochako exchange a very pointed look. Finally, Ochako turns back to him, her face a large grin. “You forgot Katsuki?”

“Yeah?” Izuku can feel a knot forming in his stomach at her expression. “Is that— should I not have? Is that weird?”

“No,” Tenya replies instantly, “It’s not weird.”

It makes Izuku feel better, but only marginally.

“Were we—” he pauses, taking a deep breath. His heart is fluttering in his throat and he can feel it all the way down to his fingertips. He doesn’t want to ask the question but he supposes it’s less mortifying to ask them and know than to have to face Katsuki without the knowledge. “Were we not dating?”

“No,” Ochako says kindly before quickly adding, “But I’m not surprised to hear it was Katsuki you forgot! You guys are incredibly close and we’ve all been waiting for something to happen between you for awhile.”

That makes Izuku feel more than marginally better. He could work with that. Maybe they hadn’t gotten to officially dating, but they were obviously close and on those tracks. “Why aren’t we dating then?”

“That is something you have to ask him.” Ochako begins, the rest of her thoughts cut off by the waitress showing up to take their order.

Izuku scrambles, having not actually looked at the menu yet. Ochako and Tenya both order as Izuku quickly scans the options, picking the first thing that sounds good and thanking the waitress as she takes the menu from his hands after he’s ordered. She promises to bring them back their drinks right away, so the lull remains in their conversation until she returns with three glasses of water in hand, doling them out and leaving a pile of straws in the middle of the table.

“So,” Izuku fiddles with his straw wrapper, trying to put his thoughts together. Talking to Ochako and Tenya is probably the safest place he can get information. They would never lie to him, but they’d also never judge him. And, being his two closest friends— besides Katsuki, as he understood it— they would have nearly all the information he needed. “We’re hero partners.” Ochako nods. “And best friends?” She rolls her eyes but nods again. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, he said—”

“Wait, you’ve seen him since this happened?” Tenya cuts in, eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“Yeah? He was in my hospital room when I woke up. Doctor said he’s the one who carried me to the hospital.” It’s increasingly weird to have to learn about his own life from someone else. But on top of that, it’s unnerving to have them think things he never even questioned are surprising. He feels like he has absolutely no semblance of control over his life at the moment and it’s not a great feeling.

“It does make sense.” Tenya agrees quietly. “I’m sure you were on the scene together. And it’s not surprising that he’d take you himself instead of waiting for an ambulance.”

“But?” Izuku isn’t honestly sure he wants to know what is going to come next.

Ochako glances at Tenya before taking over and answering his question. “But, as far as we know, you’ve never told him that you love him.”

Yeah, Izuku definitely did not want to know that. Just great, he thinks bitterly, he doesn’t even get to confess his own feelings. Katsuki had to learn about them from a quirk. Talk about the worst way to ever get confessed to.

“Well that explains why he isn’t answering my texts.” Izuku replies dejectedly, leaning back in his chair with a groan.

Both of his friends are looking at him sympathetically, but it doesn’t do anything to change what a terrible situation this has suddenly become. He’d spent all those hours in the hospital coming up with such wonderful situations where they were happy together and now they were being ripped out of his hands and smashed to bits at his feet. How was he supposed to face Katsuki now? Not only did he still not really know anything about the guy, but his secret feelings had been outed.

Maybe he could just avoid him.

No. He mentally smacked himself as soon as the thought came. They were hero partners and best friends, he couldn’t do that to Katsuki. On top of that, he couldn’t get his memories back that way. Sure, it would be awkward to fall in love with Katsuki (again) if Katsuki didn’t feel the same way which was now a very real possibility, but Izuku couldn’t go on without at least trying to get his memories back. And yeah, Ochako had said that they were all waiting for something to happen between them which boded well on his behalf, but wasn’t solid proof of anything. For all he knew, Katsuki was going to push him away, upset with his feelings, and Izuku wouldn’t have the choice but to say goodbye to his memories of him permanently.

“Hey,” Ochako reaches across the booth and snags one of Izuku’s hands in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. He’s not going to shut you out completely. And if he tries to, I’ll kick his ass.”

Tenya chuckles next to her. “That’s a fight I’d love to see.”

With another roll of the eyes, Ochako wedges her elbow between Tenya’s ribs, causing him to flinch away, swatting at her arm. Izuku lets out a shuddering breath, knowing that stressing about it right now won’t do any good. He can’t make any assumptions until he at least gets a chance to talk to Katsuki. Until then, he resolves himself to enjoying his friend’s presence, eating the delicious food that is brought to their table and just waiting.

------------------------

It’s damn near the middle of the night by the time Katsuki finally stumbles back to his apartment, tired and in the midst of an emotional torrent. At some point in the evening, Ashido had showed up, kicking Katsuki off of the couch and onto the chair that sat next to it. Katsuki had gone willingly, but he’d grumbled the whole way. It had taken Eijiro all of two seconds after that to spill Katsuki’s entire dilemma to her and Katsuki could still hear her squeals, even as he flipped on the lights to his very empty apartment.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket as he kicks his shoes off and it takes everything in him to suppress a groan. The damn thing has been going off all day and he knows that he’s being shitty by ignoring it, but he’s just not ready to face anything yet.

Ashido had been quick to jump on Eijiro’s side, threatening Katsuki with certain death if he dared try to push Izuku away. Katsuki wasn’t afraid of anyone, but if there was one person he didn’t want to square up against, it’d be her. He’d sneered at her in response, shoving a pillow in her face and hoping that his face wasn’t flushed.

A second vibration of his phone draws Katsuki back out of his thoughts and he growls as he finally pulls his phone out. His screen is littered with notifications, most of them text messages. He sees Eijiro and Ashido’s group text in there, some from Ochako and even a few from Tenya, which is surprising. The least surprising though, are the series of texts— including the two newest ones— that are from Dumb Deku.

With a heavy sigh, Katsuki unlocks his phone, ignoring the texts from everyone except Izuku. He can already imagine pretty clearly the kind of threats he’ll find in all of them if he’s not kind to Izuku, so he doesn't waste his time reading them.

Are you coming back?

Ochako and Tenya came to get me from the hospital, you don’t have to worry about it.

Those two make Katsuki’s gut clench as he is forced to face what a dick he was to leave Izuku at the hospital alone. Leave it to Izuku’s other friends to clean up his mess. They’d done that for him back in high school, too, constantly trailing Izuku to pick up the broken pieces that were left behind when Katsuki tore him to shreds time and time again. Their forgiveness had been harder to earn than either Izuku’s or Inko’s, but he had eventually done so. He can only assume they’re less than thrilled to see him slipping back into his old ways though.

It’s okay, though!! Don’t worry about it!! I’m sure you were busy!

Classic Izuku, giving Katsuki an out he doesn’t deserve and refusing to blame him for anything. Katsuki’s heart feels heavy in his chest as he keeps reading, only three texts left.

I hope we get a chance to talk soon.

And then, the two he’d just sent.

I hope you had a good day.

Goodnight, Kacchan.

The very first thing Katsuki wants to do is blow his phone through the fucking roof. Even when Izuku can’t remember him, he’s being unfailingly kind and trying his best to meet Katsuki in the middle. It was this exact thing that made it impossible for him to shake Izuku— impossible for him to want to shake Izuku, even if he hadn’t said it back then.

One truth that Katsuki will admit is that he never honestly wanted to be rid of Izuku. Even at his worst in middle school, he knew that he’d never forgive himself for actually pushing Izuku away. He always worried that he’d gone too far, that it was finally the time that Izuku would disappear for good. For a while, he’d thought that he really had succeeded at scaring him away. And then that slime villain had gotten hold of him and Izuku hadn’t even thought before jumping in to try and save him.

Sometimes, Katsuki still played that memory in his mind, thinking back to how frantic Izuku had been, fighting desperately for him despite the tears streaming down his face. Katsuki had yelled at him, even then, but Izuku hadn’t relented. That was probably the first time Katsuki first thought that he owed it to Izuku to try and change. It was still a long time before he actually put in that effort, but from that moment on it was in the back of his mind. It would nag at him when he’d start to say something scathing, catching the words before they left his mouth, forcing him to just turn the other cheek and walk away instead.

And it was probably that change that encouraged Izuku.

Leaning into the wall next to his door, Katsuki types out a text of his own.

What are you still doing up, Deku?

He doesn’t even have a chance to lock his phone before he sees the bubble pop up to indicate that Izuku is typing back to him. In truth, Izuku has every right to make some scalding remark about how Katsuki had been ignoring him all day, leaving him to cope with this all on his own. To be fair, even though it’s shitty, Katsuki knows that this has to be harder for Izuku than for him. He’s not the one with all of his memories gone.

In fact, it’s precisely because he still has all the goddamn memories that he’s suffering so much in response to this.

Can’t sleep. Have a lot on my mind.

With another bone deep sigh, Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose again. He can’t deal with this shit. Old him would’ve blown Izuku off, refusing to talk about it. But if Izuku had sent him this text yesterday, before this happened, Katsuki knows he wouldn’t have even responded. He would’ve tucked his phone away, slipped his shoes back on and headed straight over to Izuku’s apartment. He would’ve gotten there to find out that the door was already unlocked, that Izuku would have been expecting for him to show up.

Because all of their fucking lives they’d been orbitting each other like that. One pushing and the other pulling, constantly together, never apart. It was always the two of them.

Want to talk about it?

He hesitates for only a moment before he hits send. He hovers in his entry way as he waits for the response that he knows will still be just as quick. Sure enough, a second later, he sees the new message appear on his screen.

Not over text.

Well, fuck. He’s absolutely not ready to have this conversation with Izuku— he’s not ever going to be completely ready but he’s not even mentally prepared for it right now— but he knows he can’t just leave him like he did at the hospital. The friendship that they’ve developed, their partnership as heroes, and his unnamed place in Katsuki’s heart won’t allow that. So Katsuki slides his shoes back on, scrubbing a hand over his hair in frustration and typing as he opens his door.

Open up. I’ll be there in ten.

Truthfully, he has the spare key to Izuku’s apartment. It’s on his key ring, right next to the key to his own apartment and his locker at work. He rarely uses it, though, because Izuku always leaves the door open for him. He could use it now, but he doesn’t want to freak Izuku out. He has no idea what information Ochako and Tenya had given him, what pieces his brilliant brain had put together. He had no fucking clue what the picture looked like in Izuku’s mind and he hated how terrified it made him feel.

The walk to Izuku’s place wasn’t ten minutes, but the extra time was for Katsuki to stop at the convenience store on the corner and grab his favorite snacks. He fucking hated himself the entire time he was plucking them off the shelf. How in the hell did he get to know Izuku this well and not think anything of it?

He knows the answer to that, though. It’s not that he never thought about it, never tried to read into his own feelings and put names to them, but rather that he refused to do exactly that. Every time the question arose in his mind, he squashed it vehemently. Every time he caught himself thinking about how fucking gorgeous Izuku was, he mentally berated himself until the thoughts were gone. So it wasn’t that he couldn’t figure it out, but that he didn’t want to.

And now his feelings have been shoved in his face plain as day and he has no idea what the hell to do with them. How is he supposed to acknowledge something he’s been purposefully ignoring for so many years?

With the bag of items firmly in his hand, Katsuki steels his will as much as he possibly can and finishes the walk to Izuku’s. He finds the door unlocked, just like he has so many times before, and takes a deep breath in through his nose before entering. He kicks his shoes off and heads straight into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and depositing a few of the extra drinks inside.

“Kacchan?” He hears from the other room and it sounds so normal to him that it takes Katsuki’s brain about five seconds to catch up and realize that Izuku shouldn’t know that nickname for him anymore.

His heart aches so deeply that it feels like it’s pulling itself apart in his chest. “Who told you about that nickname?”

As he says it, he realizes that Izuku had used it in a text message, too. He hadn’t even noticed, he was so used to seeing and hearing that. There were so many times that the nickname had been his lifeline. He’d heard Izuku call it in the middle of a battle to warn him of danger, he’d heard him say it, ragged and broken, as he feared that he’d lost Katsuki. But he’d also heard it soft and tender, with Izuku on the brink of falling asleep, and brighter than the morning sunshine when Izuku greeted him first thing in the morning.

“Oh,” Izuku crosses into the kitchen finally. He’s in pajamas, hair messy as if he’d tried to sleep but failed. “That’s the name I have you under in my phone. I hope that’s okay?”

Katsuki snorts. Of course he’d put him in his phone that way. “ S’fine.”

It’s more than fine, actually. It’s both a comfort and an assault to Katsuki’s heart, but he can handle that. It reminds him that Izuku isn’t a stranger to him, even if he’s been caught entirely off guard by Izuku’s feelings and forced to see him in a new light.

“I appreciate you coming.” Izuku doesn’t come any further into the room and it’s very easy to tell just how nervous he is. It’s rolling off of him in waves, doing it’s best to knock Katsuki off of his feet.

“Here,” Katsuki extends one of the drinks in his hands to Izuku, forcing the man to come further into the room to take it from him. And no, there’s definitely not a feeling of electricity skipping across his fingers where Izuku’s hand brushes his own.

Izuku takes the drink and retreats back to the doorway, clutching it close to his chest. “This is one of my favorites!”

Katsuki knows, that’s why he bought the damn thing. It’s the drink that Izuku loves but won’t let himself drink unless he’s had a bad day. Normally, Katsuki wouldn’t give him something with caffeine in the middle of the night but these are special circumstances. Plus, Izuku had already said that he couldn’t sleep.

“Listen,” Katsuki doesn’t turn to look at Izuku as he talks. He methodically takes the snacks out of the bag, piling them on the counter. His heart is thumping painfully against his ribs, each one like the beat of a drum. Instinctively, he wants to run again, to get away from this, but he had promised Eijiro that he wouldn’t do that. At some point, enough had to be enough. “I know we have a lot to talk about and that’s— fine.” It hurts, every word hurts. “We can start it right now, if that’s what you need. But can we at least save the thick of it for tomorrow after the press conference?”

Fucking excellent, Katsuki tells himself sarcastically, he’s already trying to run away again.

“Press conference?” Izuku echoes, popping the lid of his drink.

“You’re not going.” It’s a finality. Katsuki won’t allow Izuku to attend the press conference. They have shit they need to work out on their own and he will not let it leak to the media. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“Do you always insist on doing everything alone?” Izuku sips from his drink. Katsuki can feel the weight of his gaze burning a hole between his shoulders but he doesn’t succumb to it. “Is it really that hard for you to let someone in?”

A bitter laugh, a burning in Katsuki’s chest. His heart is on fire and it’s burning him down to ashes. “So you haven’t really forgotten me then, eh?”

That seems to startle Izuku. Katsuki still isn’t looking at him, hands pressed against the cool countertop, but he hears Izuku shift and he knows that he’s trying to figure out how to word his thoughts. He knows Izuku so goddamn well that he can tell what he’s doing without even looking at him. It makes a sick feeling fill Katsuki’s gut.

“I don’t think it’s that.” Izuku says after a moment of silence. “I think I’m just… good at reading you.”

Yeah, that’s for damn sure. “You’ve been good at that since we were kids. It’s annoying as fuck.”

Izuku huffs out a laugh and it stokes the fire that’s currently consuming Katsuki. He loves Izuku’s laugh. It’s bright and warm and full of so much happiness. It’s contagious— and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t laugh. Katsuki can feel the tension in his shoulders, can feel the ache up his neck and into the base of his skull. He knows he’s pressing all of his weight into the counter, knows that he’s seconds away from losing his cool.

He just has no idea what he’s going to do when he loses it. He suspects, for once, it’s not blasting Izuku off the face of the earth.

“And yet,” Izuku finally moves a little bit further into the room. Katsuki can feel his presence approaching. “Here you are, at one in the morning, coming to take care of me because I couldn’t sleep.”

“If you’ve got something to say,” Katsuki tries to snarl, to bite, to put anything behind his words. They come out breathless. “Spit it the fuck out.”

He hears Izuku take the next step as much as he feels it. And then he takes another, and another. From where Katsuki is glaring down at his feet, he can see Izuku’s shadow growing larger, engulfing his own. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder, tripling the tension that Katsuki feels. All of the fire that’s been enveloping him shoots to the spot where Izuku is touching, the concentration of it so intense it’s almost unbearable. Katsuki knows immediately that he never wants it to stop.

“I think you care about me.” Izuku whispers, his breath a warm ghost across the back of Katsuki’s neck. What small grasp Katsuki had on his self control was slipping by the second. “I know I’m your best friend and your partner, I get that. But I think you care about me even more than that and you just don’t want to admit it.”

Slowly, so fucking slowly it hurts, Katsuki spins in his spot until he’s facing Izuku. Izuku moves his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder as he begins to move and it hangs in the air between them as Katsuki finally meets his eyes. His breathing is ragged, like he just got out of a fight. His lungs ache with each breath he takes in. Izuku is staring up at him with a determination that Katsuki knows well. It’s an expression of no apologies, an expression that says he knows the potential consequences for his actions but he’s not going to back down.

It’s the expression he gave Katsuki over and over again, year after year when he refused to give up on him or let him go.

“And what makes you think that’s the case?” The tension between them is so thick that it could be cut with a knife. There’s a sizzle in the air between them and Katsuki thinks he could probably blow the whole place to bits with just a small spark.

Those goddamn green eyes have always been a weak point for Katsuki. They’re so expressive, full of so much emotion. To meet Izuku’s gaze was to see the depths of his heart, the inner workings of his mind and the colors of his soul all at once. It was impossible not to crumble under the weight of his gaze on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day.

Today Katsuki had not only been forced to confront his own feelings— a battle he was still, currently, in the midst of— but he’d also been brought face-to-face with Izuku’s. Today wasn’t the kind of day where he could hold strong under those eyes. Today was the day where Izuku chipped his way past the final of Katsuki’s defenses, pushing the walls to the ground and tearing open the locked doors. Today was the day where everything collapsed and all that was left was for Katsuki to decide how to— or even if he wanted to— rebuild it.

“Like I said,” Izuku’s hand stretches a little closer to him, then. It doesn’t touch him, but it’s there, almost like he’s asking permission. His tone is still a quiet whisper that's charged with emotions and Katsuki feels the exact moment his final wall turns to dust and blows away in the wind. “I’m just really good at understanding you.”

Without even thinking first, Katsuki reaches up to grab that hand hanging in the air between them, yanking Izuku forwards until he’s flush against Katsuki’s chest, head tilted up so he could still read Katsuki’s expression. His lips were parted in surprise, his other hand thrown out to the side to avoid spilling his drink. But still, despite it all, despite the fact that he doesn’t remember Katsuki, that whatever feelings he did have are temporarily erased, his eyes are smiling as he waits for Katsuki to do whatever it is he’s going to do.

And god damn it all, Katsuki wants to kiss him.

It’s a deep and immediate want, reaching all the way to his bones, flooding through his veins. He wants to kiss that look right off the damn nerd’s face and then kiss him again just for good measure. He wants it so badly that it physically aches in his chest, but he can’t do this.

This isn’t the time for something like that. They still need to talk, he needs to give Izuku a chance to regain his own feelings. If— when— he kisses Izuku, it’s going to be the Izuku that’s actually in love with him. It doesn’t matter that this one staring up at him looks like the Izuku he knows, it doesn’t matter that he has the same warm eyes and the same kind smile. It isn’t the Izuku he’s known for all these years and he refuses to do anything until he has that Izuku back.

With a low groan, Katsuki wraps his free arm around Izuku, leaning down to bury his face in a sea of unruly green. Izuku lets out a content noise, setting his drink down on the counter behind Katsuki before wrapping his arm back around Katsuki and fisting it in his shirt at the small of his back.

The physical ache is still there, the burn still smoldering in his lungs. This isn’t what he wants, but it’s more than he’s ever let himself have and for now, it’s enough.