Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was supposed to be a typical patrol, the same one he and Izuku did every Saturday; cutting through downtown and circling back up towards their agency. The only reason they ended up diverting was because of a call through their comm unit: a villain theft from a support item warehouse in their district. Unfortunately, they’d already been in the middle of something—a central pipeline had ended up bursting in some below-ground apartment buildings, flooding the area, and he and Deku had been busy evacuating—but they had practically finished up, and Bakugou was itching for a good fight.

So, with one glance over at his hero partner, he silently asked if he could go check it out, and Deku had given him a wary look in response; but when Katsuki just grinned at him excitedly, he’d rolled his eyes and let out a stiff sigh.

“Fine, I’ll be right behind you,” he’d said, still ankle-deep in bluish water as he began to head back into the apartments for one last search, “Just be careful, alright?”

“Tch, don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki had shot back playfully, to which Deku had scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Trouble was, he really had been trying to be careful—but this villain was just too damn fast.

“Damnit,” he swore, growling low under his breath as he aimed his hand toward their back once more, trying to dart closer to them as he sent another blast popping from his wrist. 

He’d caught up with them easily enough, intercepting their path as they attempted to make their getaway, a shiny golden carrying case in hand. He wonder what kind of support item it could possibly be, and knew that if Deku was with him he’d be analyzing it from the case alone, but he didn’t have time to linger on that thought as he watched the villain dodge his next blast with ease; cold, violet eyes glinting menacingly as they spun against his flames in mid-air. They were quick on their feet, and the smug fucking smile they were wearing hadn’t left their face for even a second, even as their shoes slid against the sidewalk and they darted at a right-degree angle into an adjacent alleyway, tangles of long blonde hair disappearing after them. Katsuki let out a tiny swear. They were quick on their feet— too quick, if you asked him—and he felt himself leveling a hand behind him to blast himself forward just so he could catch up.

 Katsuki flitted down the alley after the blonde, propelling himself forward with another blast as he attempted to match their pace. As he got closer, he spotted them tucking the case underneath their arm, pulling it into their body, violet eyes darting back to meet his gaze once more, laughter laced within.

The smugness was really starting to piss him off.

He released another orange and gold explosion from his glove, growling as he let it off this time, but before he could even figure out what the fuck was going on, the villain was darting down another sidestreet, shoulder brushing brick as they made one of the sharpest turns he’d ever seen. He let out another swear as he overshot the alley they’d turned into, before putting on the brakes and doubling back, rocketing himself down the alley. He was completely prepared to take the blonde head on, when suddenly he let out a grunt of surprise, pulling up short and boots meeting the ground as he abruptly tried to slow his momentum. Orange soles scraped to a staggering halt against the gravel and he glanced up, casting a bewildered look at the brick wall in front of him. 

A dead end. The fuck?

But just then, he heard something hit the ground behind him, and he immediately whirled, pulling up a hand and getting ready to blast the thief away, but before he could even process the movement, the villain had darted underneath his gauntlet and popped up to their full height in front of him. He tried to lean backwards, the sudden face-to-face proximity startling him, but before he could get far enough away, the thief gently blew purple dust into his face and whispered, “Sleep.”

Katsuki was quick to counter, and just as the word had left the villain’s lips, he was already slamming his gauntlet into their side, knocking them completely off their feet and causing them to let out a cry as the brick wall behind them cracked with the force of his hit. He was fully ready to let out a stun grenade, lifting his gauntlet and hoping to incapacitate the villain, but as soon as he tried to summon his quirk, everything blurred, the world around him going fuzzy and uneven. He tried to blink the sudden disorientation out of his vision, but even his arms had started to feel weird and heavy, his feet going numb the longer he stood. His breaths were evening out, his heart rate slowing.

Sleep, the villain had whispered to him. 

Was this their quirk?

“Crap,” he whispered, his vision starting to gray-out along the edges. He noticed that he’d begun to stagger with the effort it was taking for him to stay upright. 

The villain across from him slowly stood from their position against the wall, brushing debris off their shirt before casting him another smug smile.

“Sweet dreams, Dynamight,” they whispered, blowing Katsuki a gentle kiss just as one of his knees buckled underneath him. 

He let out a grunt as it landed on the tarmac with a crack, his iron knee guard carving itself into concrete, the world still spinning around him.

No, he scolded himself, gritting his teeth as he attempted to rise to his feet again, watching through the sudden haze as the blonde began to skip back the way they’d come, Don’t let them get away. You have to fight this. You have to win.

He could feel waves of weariness washing over him, his body going tingly and numb as his limbs turned to gelatin underneath him. But it was still his body, and he’d been through way worse than this, so he forced himself to stand, no matter how unsteadily, his vision slowly narrowing as all his remaining focus tunneled on the villain's back. They were trying to escape, stolen case in hand, but before they could, Katsuki forced his heavy limbs from his side, using one arm to help support the other as he aimed down sights at the thief.

“Hey!” he called out, his voice weary and hoarse, but somehow it still managed to get the villain’s attention, the blonde stopping mid-skip as they turned to stare at him, eyes wide with surprise. The look only made his lips curl into a satisfied grin, his resolve hardening as he finished, “This ain’t over, bastard.”

Then, he released the pin from his grenadier, and let the fires of hell spill loose.

The villain let out a screech as the explosion burst forward, knocking them off their feet before colliding with the ground in a heap of dirt and ash.

But they weren’t the only one.

Katsuki let out a cry of pain as his gauntlet snapped backward, hearing something crack along his collarbone as he reeled with the recoil. Since his senses were impaired from the villain's quirk, he hadn’t been able to control how his muscles managed the kickback, and he landed heavily on his back, head suddenly spinning with dizziness as the space just above his chest flared with pain. Still, it was duller than it should’ve been, the weight of sleep calling to him as the villain’s quirk finally took its full effect. 

But just as he was about to slip underneath the waves, he saw a flash of green suddenly streak across his vision, and he cracked his eyelids open just in time to see someone kneel down to hover over him. And no matter how blurred and doubled his vision was, Katsuki knew he would always be able to tell who that shade of green belonged to.

“Kacchan!” Izuku gasped, fumbling over him, words spilling over Katsuki like sheets of rain—too much and all at once, “What happened? Are you okay?” and as Katsuki felt the inviting tug of sleep pull at him once more, he realized he wasn’t going to get a lot of time to say much of anything to quell Izuku’s panic before settling completely underneath the dark current of unconsciousness.

“Quirk…” he managed, the letters slurring together in his mouth, his heartbeat coming slow and steady in his ears. The rhythm was comforting, like a lullaby softly coaxing him to sleep, and he felt his eyelids drooping again just as he forced out, “M’tired, ‘Zuku.”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, the medics are on their way,” he heard Izuku’s soothing voice say, his words sounding criminally soft and warm in Katsuki’s haze, like a safe, familiar blanket he wanted to wrap himself in and never crawl out of, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry, alright?”

He managed to reply with a quiet hum of acknowledgment, trying to convey that he wasn’t worried in the least, not with Izuku hovering just above him, but as gentle hands found their way into his hair, stroking lightly before gently lifting his head onto a more comfortable surface, he found his breathing finally evening out and the rest of the tension in his body fading away. There, lost under crooked hands, with a caress of a thumb against his cheek, he suddenly felt the darkness sweeping him away, and he sunk into the depths of sleep.

-

When Izuku finally finished evacuating the flooded apartments, he headed back uptown to meet up with Katsuki. He didn’t really like the idea of splitting up to begin with (nothing good ever seemed to happen when they were separated from one another) but it wasn’t anything new for the two of them. Some days they even had separate shift schedules, opposite of one another, to try and keep a more balanced patrol on days when villains seemed to be more active. Izuku was usually more suited to night shifts, and Katsuki would be up and about during daylight hours, but it was only for a couple days a week. The rest of the time they were out and about together, flashing their best hero-duo smiles and keeping up public appearances. Saturdays were always the busiest, flitting from crime to crime while trying to keep up friendly small talk with the locals in order to make sure everyone felt safe. To make sure everyone could still smile. Katsuki always felt the showiness of it all was annoying and tedious, and secretly Izuku agreed with him, but part of the job was keeping a good relationship with the public, and if they wanted to maintain their title as the Number One heroes, they had to interact with civilians at least some of the time.

So, no, it wasn’t totally uncommon for them to split up like this—but that didn’t mean Izuku hated it any less.

Once he crossed town, he settled on a tall rooftop and glanced around, about to jam a finger into his com to ask Katsuki where he was, when he suddenly heard a resounding boom from behind him and whirled to see one of Dynamight’s signature explosions erupt from just below the rooftops, smoke spilling out from what appeared to be an alleyway. He immediately felt a spark of panic flash through him, knowing Katsuki wasn’t the type to let off such a reckless explosion. At least, not unless he was in trouble.

Izuku immediately moved into action, something cold and familiar settling into the pit of his stomach as he headed toward the billowing plume of smoke, and he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. 

He was late.

He swung himself over rooftops as fast as he could, before finally letting go as he dropped himself into the alleyway, iron soles crunching against the gravel as he landed. His eyes immediately went searching through the smog, turning over his shoulder in a circle as he called, “Kacchan!” but the haze was thick and blinding. There was so much smoke, and Izuku felt his heart begin to beat faster in his chest as he made his way down the alleyway, his green sparks of lightning lighting the way, fists raised defensively in front of him. He wasn’t sure where the villain was, and he wasn’t going to take any chances by letting his guard down. Still, he was less concerned about the thief and more focused on finding his partner.

“Kacchan!” Izuku called again, pushing some of the smoke out of the way with a swift movement of his hand, the haze running through his fingers as it slowly began to lift from the alleyway.

It only took one more turn in place before he finally spotted a glint of blonde, and his eyes jerked toward it, his heart slamming to a halt in his chest before sinking into his stomach. 

Katsuki was sprawled out on the ground, his back to the gravel and debris scattered around his limp body. Izuku froze for a moment, thoughts suddenly slipping through his grasp like sand through calloused fingertips, before his body finally decided to move. He lurched forward, maxing out his speed as he skidded to a halt on his knees and landed at the blonde’s side.

“Kacchan!” he gasped, pulling the other hero into his arms just as Katsuki managed to crack his eyelids open. His gaze was unfocused and unsteady, and Izuku felt his own pulse quicken as his fingers fumbled for the tender spot of Katsuki’s neck and pressed into it gently. Katsuki hardly seemed to register it. He was staring through Izuku more than he was looking at him, his gaze half-lidded, the circles under his eyes suddenly punctuated with exhaustion. His pulse seemed fine, although it was on the slower side, but that did nothing to tame Izuku’s swelling panic, adrenaline continuing to coarse through him as he asked, “What happened?” his anxiety present in every syllable, “Are you okay?”

“Quirk…” Katsuki managed, eyelids sliding closed even as he spoke, “M’tired, ‘Zuku.”

Fuck, a sleep quirk? With what kind of effects? Izuku’s mind was racing with possibilities, wondering what the fuck he should do, or if there was anything he could do, but deep down, he knew the only option would probably be to wait it out. 

He glanced over his shoulder cautiously, trying to see where the villain might have gone, or if they’d managed to get away, and his eyes quickly caught on a heap of blonde hair at the end of the alley, a golden case a few feet from where they’d obviously fallen. Katsuki had still managed to take down the villain, and the explosion he threw at them would most likely keep them down for a while, which was good, because it meant that Izuku could focus on this. On Katsuki.

“Okay, okay,” he started, forcing calm into his voice, trying to be as soothing as possible as he watched Katsuki’s breaths slow while he fought to stay awake, eyelids fluttering weakly.

But he’d done enough fighting. It was Izuku’s turn to take over.

“It’s okay, the medics are on their way,” he murmured quietly, placing Katsuki’s head gently into his lap and beginning to card his fingers through golden tufts, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. It was a familiar gesture, one they must have exchanged a thousand times over by now, and it seemed to do the trick, because Izuku could see Katsuki’s body physically relaxing, slowly sinking further into his touch, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry, alright?”

Katsuki gave a little hum in response, and Izuku continued to carve gentle paths into his hair until his chin fell to one side—a tell-tale sign that Kacchan was, in fact, asleep—before checking his pulse one more time. It was still the same, slow and steady, but Izuku just had to be sure. He had to be.

Because, in all honesty, he was freaking out, already running through possible effects this quirk could have on Katsuki’s body. What was the villain capable of? Was it dangerous? What would happen to Katsuki after he woke up? Or what if the quirk continued to slow down his heart until it just… stopped? 

What if he never woke up again?  

Izuku pulled Katsuki closer to his chest at the thought, not wanting to let go, not even for a second. He glanced over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure the villain was still unconscious, but it didn’t seem like they’d be going anywhere any time soon. Still, having Kacchan settled against him—sleeping so vulnerably out in the open—made him more anxious and overprotective than he would have been any other day, and he wasn’t willing to risk anything to put his partner in any more danger. 

So Izuku held onto him, pulling him as close as he possibly could, and shielded him from the rest of the world.

-

After emergency personnel arrived at the scene, they made it to the hospital relatively quickly, and Katsuki was admitted with only minor injuries, including a broken collarbone that earned him a sling; just for the next twenty four hours. Luckily, there had been some quirk doctors at the hospital who’d treated the break, and said it should only take a few days for him to recover fully rather than the usual six weeks. Izuku was grateful for that much, at least, knowing that Katsuki would appreciate the short recovery time as well. He got restless when he was out of the field for too long, but a few days would be easy to manage compared to some of the longer recovery leaves he’d endured in the past.

The sleeping, however, was a different matter.

There was a steady, rhythmic beeping coming from the machine beside Katsuki’s bed, which had displayed his ever-consistent heart rate at a solid 45 BPM since they’d arrived. Still, as Izuku sat beside him, listening intently as he continued to hold onto Katsuki’s hand, there would sometimes be a breadth of a moment where it sounded like the beeping had stopped all together. Izuku would jerk his head toward the monitor in distress, a jolt of panic snapping through him, before the next tone finally rang out. This was always followed by a tiny wave of relief, and as the next beep came, he’d settle back into his seat with a little sigh. He knew it was just paranoia, but he couldn’t help it; it was in his nature to worry. Especially over Katsuki.

After a while of just sitting there, fingers entwined with his partner’s, Izuku finally heard the door behind him click open and jerkily tugged his eyes away from where Katsuki was sleeping to swing his gaze around, tensing as he raised his guard. He was already on edge, overwhelming feelings of helplessness and anxiety only building the longer Katsuki was under the quirk’s effects, unable to bring himself to leave his side even for a moment. He had to hang onto him. To protect him.

No wonder he sat between Katsuki and the door.

Izuku stared at the woman lingering in the doorway, white lab coat turning over her legs as she gently closed it behind her. She had a friendly smile on her face, but Izuku could also sense a tension behind her eyes, and he felt his heart suddenly pound uncomfortably in his chest. He’d been expecting another doctor to swing by ever since the nurses who’d worked on Katsuki’s collarbone said they’d send someone over from the quirk-analysis department to treat him, and as he scanned over the pile of clipboards the doctor was holding in her arms, he realized that this must be her. 

He could feel some of his anxiety building at her appearance, hoping the police who’d made the arrest and were now investigating were able to question the villain about their quirk—at least enough to get information on how to help Katsuki—but Izuku had been around this block enough times to know that didn’t always happen that way. It depended on whether the villain had been compliant during interrogation or not, and if the detectives weren’t able to get the information from the thief about their quirk, every theory the doctor had to offer would most likely be a shot in the dark.

“Is this Katsuki Bakugou?” she asked softly.

Izuku really hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Yes,” he replied, fingers tightening around Katsuki’s subconsciously.

The doctor stepped deeper into the room as she shuffled the clipboards around in her hands and pulled one out, carefully glancing down at it before asking, “And you’re… Izuku Midoriya?”

“Yes,” Izuku said again, his voice growing reasonably softer.

The doctor just nodded, taking his word at face value, before slowly walking over to him and handing him the clipboard. He took it with his free hand, the other still absently stroking the back of Katsuki’s knuckles as he glanced down at the long paragraphs of information that was the doctor’s report. At the top, it had Katsuki’s name and hospital room number, followed by his emergency contact information, where Izuku was listed first, and then finally a long, detailed description of his current condition. Izuku felt his eyes widen at the amount of it, surprised by how thorough it seemed, before the doctor finally piped up again.

“Sorry it took so long. The police were a bit slow when it came to the relay,” she said softly, as if to respect Katsuki’s slumber, and Izuku found himself turning to look at her again, eyes darting down toward a nametag that read Dr. Tomoko . Her expression remained friendly, almost shy, although her eyes had narrowed in concentration as her gaze traced over the report Izuku now held in his hands.

“It’s… only been an hour,” he found himself saying, not bothering to hide the awe from his voice.

Dr. Tomoko smiled at him again, eyes sparkling slightly. “I usually do it in half that time, especially when it comes to a pro-hero,” then, without hesitation, “Would you like me to run through the analysis with you?”

Izuku nodded, but he still didn’t let go of Katsuki’s hand, and as they moved from page to page, running over all the collected police information combined with Tomoko’s medical knowledge, she automatically reached out to flip the sheets of paper for him, as if she understood without even having to glance his way that he didn’t want to let go of Katsuki. Safe to say, Izuku liked her.

“It appears as though the quirk acts as a kind of anesthetic,” Tomoko started softly, maintaining a quiet volume, “It’s transferred through a mist the quirk-user can transmit through breath, something originally cultivated in the lungs before being activated. Once breathed in, it causes sleep-like symptoms, in which an individual is forced into something equivalent to a drug-induced sleep. When the police pressed the quirk-user on how long the effects might last, they said—with Dynamight’s body type—about two days. Although he might wake up once or twice between sleep cycles.”

Izuku’s eyes widened as he cast Tomoko a hopeful glance. “Really?”

“Apparently it’s common for the affected person to come in and out of consciousness at least a couple times throughout this process, to allow them to regain physical strength before drifting off again. After all, your body is constantly burning calories, so it makes sense that even under the effects of a quirk, a person’s body would force them awake when they need to replenish their energy,” she explained, tucking a stray strand of blue hair behind her ear before reaching out and pointing down at the bottom of the page, “I listed out some side effects you should keep an eye out for too. If this quirk really does act like an anesthetic, you’ll probably need someone to keep an eye out for these while he’s afflicted. After all, it might get worse before it gets better.”

Izuku’s gaze traveled down the list of side effects with growing anxiety, his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest as he read to himself; muscles aches, extreme drowsiness, delirium, forgetfulness, disorientation, confusion, chills, hypothermia.

He grimaced, hand grasping the clipboard tighter in his hand as Tomoko murmured, “I know that last one seems pretty extreme, but since his body isn’t moving around a lot and his heart rate is low, it’s entirely possible that his body heat could drop to dangerous temperatures. It’s important that he stays warm while all this is going on. While he’s sleeping, make sure he’s got at least two blankets on him, and even then you should still dress him warmly.”

Izuku blinked, realization suddenly striking him as he glanced down at the hand he was holding, only now becoming acutely aware of just how much colder Katsuki’s hand had gotten since they’d arrived at the hospital. He quickly set the clipboard aside and wrapped his other hand around the blonde’s fingers, immediately wanting to provide him with as much heat as possible, before turning toward Tomoko with a question in mind.

But before he could even ask, she was already saying, “I’ll ask the nurses to bring in more blankets as soon as I leave,” and he gave her a thankful nod. “I recommend keeping that clipboard on hand while all this is going on,” she continued, already gathering her things and backing toward the door, “We do want to keep him here until he shows signs of consciousness, but after that he’s free to go. Hospital temperatures swing pretty low, so going home would probably be best, but that’s completely up to him. Not to mention the food here is crap,” Tomoko added haltingly, causing a tiny laugh to rise out of Izuku’s lips. “The next time he’s conscious, you should ask him what he wants to do while he waits this out. If he wants to go home, we’ll discharge him into a family member’s care. Does that sound good?”

Izuku nodded again before saying, “That sounds great. Thank you so much for all your hard work. I really appreciate it.”

He hoped his words conveyed how grateful he truly was, but Tomoko shrugged off the praise timidly, glancing away and pushing her glasses back up on her nose. “No trouble at all. It’s my job,” she said modestly, “I’ll come back every hour or so to see if he’s woken up, although I have a feeling this could stretch on into the night. Let me know then if you have any more questions. If not…” she raised her stack of clipboards, and Izuku suddenly realized how much of her time he’d probably been taking up.

“Of course, I’ll let you know,” Izuku promised, and with that Tomoko ducked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

He let out a little sigh, feeling somewhat reassured. Both he and Katsuki had dealt with incompetent doctors in the past, and thankfully the quirk-analyst seemed far removed from all that; seeing how extremely thorough and comprehensive she was, making sure Izuku was provided with an understanding of even the smallest details of Katsuki’s condition. Still, even after the explanation, Izuku couldn’t help the worried feeling that was still gnawing at his stomach, practically tearing him apart from the inside as he settled his eyes back on the sleeping blonde in front of him. 

Katsuki looked so peaceful, his expression free of any of the usual overexaggerated emotion Izuku was so used to seeing there—his chest rising and falling with the beeping of the heart monitor, his pink lips parted just slightly—and before Izuku could stop himself, he found a hand gravitating toward Katsuki’s face, a thumb rubbing gently over his cheek before settling in the crook of his neck.

“I’m right here, Kacchan,” he whispered softly, “I’ve got you.”

-

When Katsuki pulled his eyes open, everything spun around him in a nauseating blur. His brain felt foggy, and he immediately tried to grasp any sort of coherent thought he might be able to muster, but as soon as he reached out to grab at one, it just slipped away again, lost in the haze. He tried to force something from his throat, as raw and overused as it felt, but in the end it ended up coming out as nothing more than a soft, disgruntled moan.

Almost immediately, he felt a pressure on his cheek, the warmth practically burning his chilled skin as rough knuckles came up to brush back his bangs from his eyes. He blinked a few times to try and clear his vision, before his gaze finally managed to catch a glimpse of familiar viridian curls.

Deku, he immediately grasped on to, wanting to reach out and hold on to the thought before it slipped away just like the rest. He attempted to move his hand toward Izuku, already feeling himself receding back into his foggy state of mind, but his limbs felt as heavy as lead, too immovable to do much of anything. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because suddenly he felt fingers catch his, warm freckled skin soothing over his chilled and aching joints. He could hear Deku’s voice, tender and soothing, and even though he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was saying, the sound alone was enough to comfort him, lulling him back to sleep. 

Slowly, his eyes began drooping once more, but before he could sink back into unconsciousness, the warm fingers that had been running through his hair abruptly pulled away, sending an icy shiver down his spine. He whimpered softly at the sudden lack of heat, before forcing out a barely there whisper.

“Cold,” he managed to convey, the single word leaving him practically breathless, and—as if he’d jinxed it—he felt the hand that was in his pull away too, causing him to whimper once more. 

He tried to chase the touch, but the lead in his arms didn’t let him, feeling it travel just out of his reach. Thankfully, he was stubborn enough to crack his eyes open, to see where the source of warmth had gone, only to watch as a blurry head of green curls gently began to unfold a thick blanket on top of him, carefully tossing it over his feet before rising up to tuck the fabric underneath his chin. He also made sure it covered Katsuki’s exposed hand and, at first, Katsuki disappointedly thought that this meant the warm fingers wouldn’t grace his again, but as Izuku sat back down beside him, he watched as the nerd slowly wiggled his hands underneath the new blanket and intertwined their fingers once more.

 Katsuki let out a tiny, satisfied sigh, closing his eyes as crooked hands began massaging small, measured circles into his aching joints, fingertips like kindling on his icy bones.

Then, he heard Izuku murmur, mainly to himself, “You’re still really sleepy… maybe I should wait a bit longer…”

That caught his attention, because it meant the nerd needed to tell him something, and he immediately willed his eyes back open, making sure they landed on the blurry green blob at his bedside, hoping he was at least relatively meeting Izuku’s gaze, before letting out a tiny grunt that he hoped conveyed, you better spill it, nerd.

That caused a huff of familiar laughter to spill from Izuku’s lips before he spoke up again, murmuring, “It’s just about your treatment. The doctor said we can go home if you want and I can take care of you there. Or you can stay here so they can keep an eye on you. They said it’s up to you, but I don’t want to force you into a decision if you’re not awake enough—”

“Home,” Katsuki mumbled groggily, because home sounded so much warmer than a hospital right now, and home meant that Izuku could curl up beside him with his body heat, and Katsuki could drag him closer so those blurry green curls were tucked under his nose rather than sitting just out of reach beside him. Home meant Katsuki’s comforter, and fresh black coffee, and the space heater in the living room, and his own fucking bed, and god— home just sounded so nice right about now.

In fact, he wasn’t really sure why he was in the hospital if he could be at home; unless he was dying. But in all honesty, if he was dying, he’d want to do that at home too. Besides, he was pretty sure if that was the case, Izuku would be much more of a watery, puddly, whiny mess right now, so whatever the hell was going on with him, he felt pretty good about his chances. He was too tired to try and ask about it though, and he was way too exhausted to try and remember.

“Alright, Kacchan. I’ll let them know,” he heard Izuku whisper softly, his fingers still rubbing comforting shapes into Katsuki’s palm. “That means the next time you wake up, that’s where we’ll probably be, okay?”

Katsuki let out a tiny hum in response, before another thought suddenly caught his grasp, one that he’d felt fluttering around in the back of his head ever since he first woke.

“Y’okay?” he murmured, words slurring together as the trudges of exhaustion began pulling him away again, his senses fading out of focus as his eyes slipped shut once more, but he managed to hang in there long enough to hear Izuku’s response.

“I’m alright, Kacchan. Don’t worry about me,” he replied, a gentle hand caressing Katsuki’s cheek once more, “Just focus on getting rest, okay?”

And as soft lips pressed gently against his right temple, Katsuki didn’t even get the chance to reply before feeling himself being lulled back into the depths of sleep.

-

“So, you’re headed home then I take it?”

Izuku turned toward the entryway of Katsuki’s hospital room to see Dr. Tomoko stepping in, before gently closing the door behind her. Throughout the day, her pile of clipboards had all but disappeared, and now she only had a couple left tucked underneath her arm. She had come back to check on Katsuki every hour or two, just like she said she would, and Izuku had asked her several more questions about what he should expect from Katsuki’s condition. Izuku had thanked her prolifically, the clipboard she’d given him earlier now tucked into his bag, and as he slung the strap over his shoulders, getting ready to leave, he cast a fond glance toward Katsuki.

“Yep, pretty much,” he replied quietly, “I’m just waiting for—”

Just then, the door to the room burst open, and Dr. Tomoko jumped backward just in time to watch Mitsuki Bakugou stomp inside, a cloth tote bag swinging from one shoulder, and her designer purse in the other. Her eyes immediately glanced off the doctor, as if she was of little importance, before moving purposefully toward Izuku, and then finally landing on her son. 

She immediately made a beeline for his bedside, grumbling, “Of course the obnoxious brat has to get himself into more trouble than he’s worth. And on my day off too!”

Still, when she came to a halt beside Katsuki, Izuku watched her expression shift into something soft and concerned for a moment—the same look he’d seen shot his way a million times by another Bakugou—before she let out a heavy sigh and placed the tote she was carrying carefully down on Katsuki’s blankets. 

She began sifting through it, pulling out a dark black hoodie as she finally addressed over her shoulder, “You must be Katsuki’s doctor.”

Dr. Tomoko blinked owlishly, her shy nature no doubt overwhelmed by Mitsuki’s explosive personality, before finally managing, “Y-Yes. I am. If you have any questions—”

“No questions. Izuku already called and filled me in,” Mitsuki said shortly, pulling more of her son’s clothes out of the bag and laying them out neatly on top of his blankets. “He said you’ve been extremely helpful. I appreciate your dedication to my son’s well-being.”

Dr. Tomoko seemed to blossom under the praise, a bright smile settling on her face as she said, “Thank you, ma’am,” before turning back toward Izuku with a steady nod, “Well, if that’s all, I’ll leave the rest to you. If you have any questions feel free to call the hospital anytime.”

“I will. Thank you for everything,” Izuku said, taking a few steps forward and offering his hand out to her with a grateful smile. 

She took it, giving it a gentle shake before finally heading out of the room.

“About time you two found some capable doctors to take care of you,” Mitsuki grumbled from behind him, causing Izuku to turn toward her. She was still laying out clothes over Katsuki’s sleeping form, and he immediately noticed how prepared she had been while packing. She’d brought several sweaters, along with several pairs of socks, and even Katsuki’s favorite brand of sweatpants. He couldn’t help but feel grateful, then, that despite how volatile Mitsuki acted around her son, at heart she would always be the mama-bear Izuku had grown up seeing firsthand. She’d always been a bit overprotective of Katsuki, particularly when it came to his health; a trait she and Inko seemed to share.

“Me too,” Izuku murmured softly, eyes naturally finding Katsuki’s face, tracing carefully over his resting features. “Honestly, if she hadn’t explained exactly what was going on with him, I think I’d be freaking out a lot more right now.”

“Well, he’d be the same,” Mitsuki sighed, and Izuku suddenly felt his face flush with heat, slightly embarrassed at Bakugou’s mother knowing how close they truly were, even if she’d known for years. In fact, she’d probably realized how much they cared for one another even before Katsuki and Izuku had, back when they were still just little snot-nosed kids. “I’m just glad he’s able to leave the hospital so early,” Mitsuki continued, placing her hands on her hips as she scanned over the pile of clothes she’d laid out for Katsuki, “He hates places like this.”

Izuku winced a little. He knew that too, because Katsuki had said as much the last time Izuku had wound up in a hospital just like this one, with a busted ankle from some debris that had landed on top of him. He’d casted Izuku a well-earned glare too, and noted, “Every time I see you like this, it pisses me off. Number One hero and you can’t even take care of yourself.” Izuku had pouted and told Kacchan he was being mean, but he really just wanted the worry behind Katsuki’s crimson eyes to go away. It had worked like a charm—because it always did—and Katsuki had let out a petulant huff before yelling something about blasting him with some more debris just to teach him a lesson.

“Now,” Mitsuki said, clapping her hands together and drawing Izuku out of his thoughts, “why don’t you help me pick something out for him.”

Izuku trotted over, dropping his bag into a nearby chair as the two of them slowly picked out several comfortable layers for Katsuki to wear, before finally putting the rest aside and getting to work on dressing him. Izuku was even more grateful Mitsuki was here for this part, since her hands seemed to graze over Katsuki’s body with motherly expertise, tugging gently at his limbs as she pulled sweats onto his legs and sweaters over his head. His left arm remained underneath it all (they didn’t want to take his arm out of the sling just yet) but Izuku got to work on pulling his right arm through one sleeve after another, until Katsuki finally looked like himself again—all be it a bit more sleepy than usual—dressed fully in black with newly-ruffled blonde hair. They had propped him up against his pillows during the process, his head now lulling to one side, his chin dipping slightly toward his chest, but Izuku noticed how Kacchan’s cheeks were flushed pleasantly with heat, showing that the thick layers of clothing were helping to keep him warm.

Mitsuki placed her hands on her hips with a satisfied breath, scanning her son up and down to survey their work, before finally grabbing Izuku’s backpack and hauling it over her shoulder.

“Oh, please. You don’t have to—” Izuku started, but Mitsuki immediately waved him off, grabbing at the tote bag with the remaining clothes and straightening with grace.

“I’ll get this. You get him,” she said firmly, pointing a finger toward Katsuki before shuffling toward the doorway, “I’ll head to reception and sign him out before going to the parking lot and swinging around to meet you, okay?”

Izuku opened his mouth to reply, but it didn’t matter anyway, because Mitsuki was already out the door, punctuated footsteps retreating down the hall. 

He let out a little sigh before turning back toward where Katsuki was lying and reaching for the empty sleeve where his left arm should’ve been, if it weren’t currently cloaked underneath all his layers. He rubbed it back and forth between his thumb, watching the empty fabric sway, before finally murmuring to himself, “I should’ve been there…”

He blinked at the sudden slip of his tongue, knowing full well that if Katsuki ever heard such a thing, he’d proceed to kick his ass . He’d start scolding Izuku for feeling guilty about something so nonsensical, especially when it had been his choice to go off on his own in the first place. Sure, Izuku was supposed to have been close behind him, but no way in hell he’d ever blame him for a self-inflicted injury like this one. He’d say he should’ve been more focused on the recoil, or prepared for the kickback, or however he ended up phrasing it, and Izuku would say something about him not having to use such a reckless blast if he’d just been there, to which Katsuki would shove him in annoyance before Izuku inevitably burst into tears, and then finally pepper him with kisses as he reassured him that it wasn’t his fault.

But now, with this stupid quirk-induced sleep, they couldn’t even argue, much less kiss, and Izuku could already feel himself starting to miss Katsuki, even as he stood right beside him.

Crap, he was even getting misty-eyed.

He shook the thoughts from his head, trying to focus on the here and now of the situation. They could always have their little argument after Katsuki was free from this quirk. Izuku would just have to smother him in kisses then.

For now, he slowly curled his arms underneath Katsuki’s form, lifting him with ease as he made sure Katsuki’s head fell gently into the crook of his shoulder. He could feel the blonde’s soft breaths against his neck, causing him to glance down and see him resting peacefully in his arms. He could count his eyelashes from this distance, and he couldn’t help but take note—for the millionth time—of just how fucking beautiful he was. What Izuku had ever done to deserve him, he would never know.

He slowly ducked his head, planting a gentle kiss on top of Katsuki’s soft golden tufts, before he heard the blonde’s breath hitch for a moment. Then, almost so quietly he didn’t even catch it, Katsuki let out a small hum.

“M’zuku.”

Izuku immediately felt his cheeks go hot, his stomach flipping in his abdomen as he realized Katsuki had just said, My Izuku, only a bit drowsier than usual, the words slurring together slightly. It wasn’t that Katsuki had never said such a thing, just that it wasn’t something he voiced on the regular, since it sent Izuku reeling and hiding his blushes every single time.

He bit down on his bottom lip, trying to suppress the burning flush on his cheeks as he carried Katsuki out of his hospital room, avoiding eye contact with the nurses as they cast him quiet, knowing smiles. He had been there all day, so he supposed it wasn’t any big secret that he’d spent practically every second holding Katsuki’s hand while he’d slept, but his ears still remained pink as he made his way past the reception desk, the woman sitting there giving him a nod of acknowledgment, before finally arriving at the automatic sliding glass doors. 

It had fallen dark outside, the night sky brimming with stars as Izuku stepped onto the sidewalk with Katsuki in his arms. Mitsuki still hadn’t pulled up yet, so he just stood there for a few moments, gazing upward as he waited for her, tracing constellations with his eyes. A breeze picked up, tousling his curls gently, and he took a deep breath of the fresh air, before suddenly feeling a shift of weight in his arms. He glanced down just in time to see Katsuki shiver, the blonde subconsciously tucking his face further into Izuku’s neck, his lips brushing at Izuku’s skin, and Izuku felt a shiver run up his own spine, his face growing hot once more. He tried his best to ignore the butterflies in his chest, flapping around painfully as he forcefully drew his gaze away from Katsuki and back toward the sky, but it was hard.

God, only Katsuki Bakugou would be able to effortlessly make his heart flutter like this, even while unconscious.

Finally, after about another thirty seconds, Mitsuki’s car came screeching to a halt in front of them, and she quickly got out to open one of the back doors. Izuku carefully settled Katsuki inside, laying his head back gently on the soft leather before grabbing the seatbelt. He loosened it before reaching across Katsuki’s body to buckle him in, then placed a quick kiss against his cheek before pulling back. Behind him, Mitsuki was smirking, and he quickly avoided her gaze as another blush crawled over his face, closing the door behind him softly before finally rounding the car to sit beside the sleeping passenger. Mitsuki was quick to follow, piling back into the driver's seat and reaching into the chair beside her before grabbing something and tossing back to Izuku. He gave a tiny yelp, catching the fluffy fabric with surprise, before realizing it was an extra-soft, twin-sized blanket.

“Give that to the brat. The last thing we need is for him to get fucking hypothermia,” Mitsuki said, although it lacked its usual bite, and as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Izuku smiled to himself, unfolding the material before draping it gently over Katsuki.

Then, he reached out a hand again, intertwining his fingers with his partner’s once more as they rode to their shared apartment, hoping that—if nothing else—Katsuki would at least be able to feel his warmth.

-

The first thing Katsuki heard when he woke up was the sound of humming. It was distant, accompanied by the splashing of running water, but it was familiar all the same, like a song he’d never quite be able to forget. The bed underneath him was also familiar, and he immediately knew he was at home, in his room, the flat melody floating in from the doorway belonging only to Izuku. He thought about opening his eyes, maybe getting up to say good morning, but just the thought of moving exhausted him. For some reason, his body felt like he’d just taken on a hundred villains at once, his arms achy and cramped, a heavy weight on his chest. Not to mention, he felt sort of out of it too, his thoughts blending into one another, his mind swimming, which was unusual to say the least. Usually, when Katsuki first woke up, he felt refreshed and ready for the day, getting up to make breakfast before returning to the bedroom to gently scratch at Izuku’s scalp as he handed him a warm cup of coffee, trying to con him out of bed with the promise of a hot shower. Instead, he felt like he could just lay here forever, tucked underneath heavy blankets and listening to Izuku’s quiet song.

That was, until a bone-chilling shiver ran down his spine.

His eyes immediately snapped open, wincing slightly as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. Sunlight was peeking around their blackout curtains, but for some reason the fabric was still pulled shut, even though Izuku usually opened them up the second he woke—that is, if Katsuki hadn’t already—another tactic to help him get out of bed.

The blonde frowned as he noted the change, before slowly starting to sit up, his head spinning a little. But, just as he managed to lift himself onto a palm, a flash of white-hot pain suddenly jolted across his collar, and he let out a startled hiss of pain. He glanced down at himself, reluctantly pulling the down blanket around his shoulders with his right hand to see what the hell was going on with his left.

It was tied up in a sling, bent at a ninety-degree angle—the clear signs of a busted collarbone—and immediately, all the events that led up to the break came rushing back to him.

Fuck. That fucking violet-eyed villain and their dumb fucking quirk. Was that why he was still so tired? 

Katsuki let out a weary sigh, falling back onto the headboard and closing his eyes. He felt like he could sleep forever, and his doubled vision and the spinning room around him was not helping. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, and he wished someone would come tuck the sheets back around him so he didn’t have to move his heavy arm again. Another shiver ran down his spine. God, and why was he so fucking cold? 

He tried his best to slip back under his blankets, but a second jolt of his collarbone sent pain sprawling up his neck, causing him to let out an audible whine of distress this time as he clenched his jaw in silent agony. Immediately, the humming in the next room stopped, the sounds of water disappearing as someone hastily turned the knob off. Then, there were footsteps, falling in quick succession, before the door suddenly swung open and a mop full of viridian curls stepped inside. 

As soon as he spotted Katsuki’s expression, his gaze went from somewhat worried to extremely concerned, and before Katsuki could even bother opening his mouth to tell Izuku he was fine— nothing to see here, just being a pathetic whiny bitch —his boyfriend was already pushing further inside to get a better look at him.

“Kacchan?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, something about his tone making Katsuki’s heart ache, “You okay?”

Katsuki wanted to say something bratty yet reassuring, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to summon the words, much less the attitude. He was crunched over, chin practically grazing his chest as he slumped further against the headboard, and despite how fucking beautiful Izuku was to look at, his eyelids were getting heavier by the second. Damn, he was out of it. What kind of quirk was this?

His silence must’ve been enough to double down on Izuku's worry, because he immediately brushed over to his side, taking a seat next to Katsuki and reaching out a gentle hand to push away stray strands of hair out of his eyes.

“Kacchan, I know you’re tired, but I need you to try and talk to me,” Izuku said softly, hands tracing gentle paths through Katsuki’s tufts, “Are you in pain?”

However, his soothing voice and delicate touch was doing nothing to help cure Katsuki’s drowsiness, and if the nerd wanted him to stay awake for a second longer, he was gonna need to cut it the fuck out.

It took him a couple seconds to find the words, but finally Katsuki managed to voice his disjointed train of thought, croaking, “Quit whisperin’. Y’gonna put me to sleep.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku said quickly, his voice louder this time, and a bit rough around the edges, as if he hadn’t spoken with much volume in a while. 

He retracted his hand from Katsuki’s hair, and as much as the blonde wanted him to keep his fingers tangled against his head, he repressed a grunt of disappointment in favor of keeping himself conscious for another few minutes or so. 

“D’you catch that fucking villain?” he asked, in an attempt to ward off more sleepiness, cracking open his eyes to cast a glance over at Izuku.

His partner let out a soft hum, nodding slightly. “Put them in custody,” he replied, scarred hands coming up to tug the comforter back up over Katsuki’s shoulders just as another shiver crawled over him (and god if he didn’t love Izuku for that gesture alone), “But you did all the work in taking them down.”

Katsuki couldn’t repress the smile that flitted across his lips, his pride naturally getting the better of him. “Sounds like me,” he murmured quietly, eyes slipping closed again just as Izuku let out a warm and breathy laugh.

“Kacchan,” he scolded, although the smile was clear in his voice, “Always so focused on winning.”

Katsuki let out a short grunt of acknowledgment, something that was meant to convey, who would I be if I wasn’t, before suddenly feeling warm hands delicately place themselves on top of his tied-up arm, tracing careful paths along his joints and giving tiny adjustments to his position, crooked fingers soothing and balmy against his aching muscles, until the pinching he was feeling in his collarbone finally released. 

He let out a heavy sigh of relief, the pain ebbing away just as he felt something gentle tickle the hairs on the back of his neck. It sent another shiver down his spine, and he heard a soft murmur of, “Sorry,” before he finally managed to open his eyes again. 

Izuku was only inches from his face, his cheek practically brushing into Katsuki’s as he peered around the back of his neck, carefully retying his sling. This close, his freckles looked like tiny stars, dotting his face in perfectly formed constellations, and Katsuki suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kiss them. So, he tilted his head slightly, before leaning forward a little and imprinting his lips softly into Izuku’s cheek. He lingered there for a moment, drowning in his warmth, catching the sound of Izuku’s breath hitch in his chest, before finally pulling back. 

He cast a heavy glance up at Izuku, who was staring back at him, his hands suddenly stilled over the sling’s knot, his juniper eyes wide as a tiny pink blush started to spread across his cheeks from the spot Katsuki had just kissed. 

And Katsuki might even have been pleased with himself, if he didn’t notice the dark circles under Izuku’s eyes. 

His brow immediately furrowed, his right hand seeming to move on its own in order to cradle Izuku’s face, thumbing over the bruises with a tiny frown as Izuku’s blush deepened.

If Katsuki wasn’t so concerned, he might’ve kissed him again.

“How long have I been out for?” he asked, head still groggy.

“Since yesterday,” Izuku replied, immediately reaching up to lay his fingers against Katsuki’s as it began to slide away, helping him to keep his tired hand there, pressed against his perfect freckles, “You got hit with a sleep-effect quirk. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ve already slept most of it off. It’s been about eighteen hours since we finally got home.”

But that wasn’t really what Katuski was worried about.

“You’ve been awake that whole time?” he murmured.

It wasn’t really a question, and from the grimace on Izuku’s face, he knew it too. He looked away, avoiding Katsuki’s gaze as a shameful blush crawled across his cheeks, the heat sending a pleasant tingling sensation through Katsuki’s bitterly-cold fingers.

“I… didn’t want to miss you when you finally woke up,” Izuku said after a long moment, finally lowering Katsuki’s limp hand from his face before gazing down at it, fingers already beginning to massage absent circles into his knuckles, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Normally, Katsuki would’ve yelled at Izuku for pulling dumb shit like that—prioritizing the blonde’s health over his own like the self-sacrificial dumbass he was—but he was entirely too exhausted to fight about it right now. And the last thing he wanted to do was seem ungrateful; not when Izuku had spent every second of the last day taking care of him. Still, Katzuki needed him to know that his condition wasn’t an excuse for the nerd not to take care of himself too, and he let out a tiny sigh.

“Idiot,” he muttered softly, shaking his head a little, golden tufts shifting from side to side, “You still could’ve slept. I would’ve woken you when I saw the sling.”

Izuku peered back up at Katsuki through his fluffy bangs, gaze settling on the blonde knowingly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, you wouldn’t have,” he whispered in protest.

Katsuki wanted to challenge him, but fuck it, the nerd was right, and he could already feel himself sinking deeper into the pillows behind him, his thoughts growing more and more sluggish with each passing second.

Izuku seemed to notice this, because suddenly he was standing up, pulling away from Katsuki as he said, “Don’t fall back asleep just yet. You need to eat something.”

Katsuki groaned, entirely too tired to even think about eating, but Izuku just cast him an apologetic glance before disappearing back into the hallway. Katsuki tried his best to keep his eyes open in an attempt to listen to Izuku, focusing on the sounds he was making in the kitchen just outside their bedroom door, but his blinks slowly started dragging into one another, his exhaustion taking hold as his heart began beating rhythmically in his chest. His body relaxed back into the bed, his mind wandering off, but just as he was about to fall back asleep, he felt someone gently shake his shoulder, jostling him back to reality with a firm call of his name.

“Kacchan,” Izuku murmured, before letting out a quiet sigh, “I’m sorry, I should’ve given this to you right away,” he continued, setting down a small tray in front of Katsuki, a steaming bowl of miso soup settled in the middle, right next to a glass of water. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d be falling asleep again so soon.”

Katsuki glanced down at it mistrustingly before looking over at Izuku. “D’you make this?” he asked, voice rough with suspicion.

Izuku straightened a little, eyebrows furrowing together as he crossed his arms over his chest, partially offended. It was the first expression Katsuki had seen on his face that wasn't filled with concern, and he felt some tension in his chest finally relax at the sight. 

“So what if I did?” Izuku asked, “You wouldn’t eat it?”

Katsuki just shot him a deadpan look, causing Izuku’s childish pout to grow.

“Mom stopped by and dropped it off for you,” he muttered, shoulders slumping a little in admission, “but I don’t see what the big deal is if I made it instead. I use the same recipe!”

“You don’t add nearly enough green onion,” Katsuki grumbled, putting all his effort into reaching out to grab the spoon.

“And you add too much,” Izuku countered with a huff, landing on the mattress just beside him, tucking his legs underneath himself so he was sitting crisscrossed next to Katsuki.

Katsuki just rolled his eyes, dripping into the soup and taking a spoonful of it before dragging it to his lips. It was delicious, because Inko’s cooking always was, in a way that was different from Katsuki’s own family, but after the third or fourth time going back in for another spoonful, he could feel his arm starting to fail him, his muscles starting to feel just as heavy and achy as when he’d first woken up.

“Do you need—”

“If you’re about to ask me whether you can feed me like a baby, I will fucking end you,” Katsuki growled.

Izuku cast him a sideways glance, lifting a clearly unthreatened eyebrow, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

Katsuki frowned back at him, before closing his eyes and taking another sip of soup. “The fuck you smirking about,” he muttered softly.

His right hand started to tremble slightly as he reached back toward the tray, too fatigued to do much else—he could barely even lift it at this point—when suddenly Izuku's fingers were wrapping around his own, gently taking the weight of the spoon from his hand and scooting closer to Katsuki so he could help. Katsuki opened his mouth to object again, but quickly realized he was entirely too tired to even try.

“It’s nothing,” Izuku whispered quietly, before dipping the spoon back into the bowl of miso, “I just… I’m glad you’re finally awake. Even if it’s only for a little while.”

Katsuki stared at him for a moment, before Izuku finally looked back at him, juniper irises shining brightly, a soft smile still resting on his lips, and Katsuki felt his heart kick in his chest, the back of his neck suddenly growing uncomfortably hot, despite how chilly he felt.

“Whatever, nerd,” he finally grumbled, tearing his eyes away from Izuku as he let out a huff, hoping his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they suddenly felt, “just hurry up and feed me the rest of this soup so I can pass out again.”

-

Katsuki was true to his word, falling asleep almost as soon as he’d swallowed his last bit of soup, head lolling backward onto the headboard and heavy eyelids sliding closed. Izuku was careful with him as he tucked him back in, pulling the blankets tighter over his shoulders and trying to wrap him up as tightly as possible. When he held Katsuki’s hand, his fingers had felt pretty frigid, all things considered, and now—to double check—Izuku reached up and pressed the back of his knuckles gently against Katsuki’s cheek. He frowned, the cold seeping into the back of his hand, before finally turning toward their blackout curtains. He let out a little sigh, standing resolutely before pushing them back and letting the warm mid-afternoon sun spill into the room, falling across Katsuki’s hair and bathing him in gold. Izuku smiled to himself a little, once again struck by just how beautiful he was, a warm, fuzzy feeling filling him as he remembered Katsuki's little gripes and familiar banter.

The truth was, he missed Katsuki over the past eighteen hours, more than he thought he would. It wasn't exactly torturous, they'd been apart for longer periods of time working certain missions, but the fact that Katsuki was right there, in their apartment, and Izuku couldn't even talk to him? It made him restless and anxious, and most of his time was spent busying himself around the house and trading texts with the rest of Class 1-A. Even now, as he headed toward the door, he felt himself cast a longing glance back, hoping that it wouldn't be too long before Katsuki woke up again.

It was only when he stepped back into the kitchen, rubbing the tired blur from his eyes and letting out a tiny sigh, did he see that his phone was still buzzing non-stop. He quickly picked it up off the counter, scrolling through a bunch of get well soon 's and here for you always messages—letting out a soft laugh at some bickering he spotted between Kaminari and Mina in the group chat—before hitting the bottom of his notifications and seeing 2 missed calls, Ochako, and a text from her that said call when you get the chance!!! He smiled at that, wanting to distract himself, wanting anything that wasn’t the gnawing worry still chewing at his stomach, before quickly tapping into his contacts and hitting the number.

She picked up on the first ring.

“Deku, hey!” the familiar came from across the line, other voices in the background filtering across the speaker.

"Hey, Ochako,” he replied, forcing a smile onto his lips at her voice, even though she couldn’t see him, “You called?"

“Yeah, yeah, of course," she said, some shuffling going on from her end of the line before she continued, "I just wanted to check in. How’s Bakugou? I know you texted everyone that he’s in the clear, but… I don’t know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it all day and—would you cut that out, Hagakure?!”

There was frenzied laughter from the other side of the phone, and the sound of Ochako trying to shoo someone away before another voice came across the line, crystal clear and bellowing loudly.

“Midoriya, it’s Ashido! Tell Great Explosion Murder-whatever to get better soon, ‘kay? Our squad's group chat is suffering without his presence.”

Izuku let out a soft chuckle, the affection in her voice filling him with warmth. Being on a call with one of the girls usually meant being on call with more than one of them, since they always seemed to be together somewhere. Sometimes, Izuku couldn’t seem to keep up with the frenzied conversation, but right now he was grateful to have such bubbly personalities as his friends, their playful jabs and affectionate words instantly lifting his mood any time he seemed to be down in the dumps.

“Is it Kaminari again?” he asked curiously—well-versed in ‘BakuSquad’ drama—as he turned over his shoulder and toward the fridge. He figured as long as he was on the phone, he could probably get in some meal prep. Besides, he just couldn't bring himself to try and get some sleep, despite what Katsuki had said about how tired he looked. Not yet, anyway; the gnawing worry in his gut still making him restless and the want to distract himself from the feeling persisting.

“No, Sero this time. Being whiny as fuck about it too. We were all going to go to a concert tomorrow. Jiro’s idea.”

“Oh yeah, Kacchan told me about that,” Izuku replied, ducking down a little to peer inside the fridge. “Um, some rock thing, right?”

“Oh, yeah, total banger. You have patrol or something, right? Well, I guess maybe not anymore—hey!” Mina suddenly whined, “‘Chako!”

“It’s my phone, Mina, give it—”

There was abrupt, tenacious laughter before Izuku suddenly heard a clatter, and then a ton of shouting and shuffling, more familiar voices coming over the line. Must be all of them, then, he thought absently, smiling to himself as pinned his phone down between his cheek and his shoulder to begin grabbing at ingredients.

Finally, the noise cleared, and there was a frazzled sounding, “Get out— SERIOUSLY EVEN THE BATHROOM MINA?!” before there was a loud slam and a tiny sigh. “Gosh, sorry about that, Deku,” Ochako said with a huff, “Ashido can really be a pain in the ass sometimes,” though from her tone she was more amused than she was angry.

He let out a note of laughter before shaking his head, tapping the refrigerator door shut with his foot before turning to place the ingredients now in his arms down on the counter. “It’s fine, Ochako,” he reassured, “I think she’s probably just worried too.”

“How is he?” Ochako murmured, and Izuku could practically see her running her bottom lip through her teeth, a concerned look on her face, “I mean, I know you said he wasn’t in any immediate danger, but…”

“But quirks can be tricky,” Izuku finished softly, turning around to lean his hips into the counter with a sigh. “I know, trust me. That’s why I took off the rest of the week. I just can’t take any chances leaving him alone like this.”

There was a brief silence from the other end of the phone, before Ochako finally murmured, “And… how are you?”

Izuku blinked, eyes widening a little in surprise before frowning. “I—I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I didn’t get any injuries in the fight, if that’s what you’re worried about. Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls, “I should’ve clarified. I didn’t mean to make you worry—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ochako interrupted, her voice falling even quieter, “I mean… how are you feeling, Deku? It’s been a while since Bakugou’s been out of commission…”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, voice low and serious this time, wanting to reassure her. “I mean, of course I’m worried,” he clarified, “but he seems to be getting better. Plus, his only physical injury was to his collarbone, which wasn’t all that bad, even if it was self-inflicted—”

 Izuku flinched, eyes going wide as he remembered a different fight… a different wound…

He’d been late to that battle too.

Self-inflicted… his quirk… exploded from the inside out.

“Deku?” Ochako asked, her voice riddled with concern.

But Izuku suddenly shuddered, already feeling himself beginning to spiral, and he braced himself against the countertop as bitter memories broke over him like waves on the beach, before pulling him underneath cold, bitter, waters. Images flashed through his mind; a torn-up battlefield, a lifeless heap of blonde and orange and black, and— red —blood pouring from an open wound in Katsuki’s chest, his heart, his face, streams of it dripping off his lips and down his cheek like April rain. 

All because he had been late. He wasn’t fast enough, or strong enough. He let himself get distracted and pulled away when he should’ve held on tighter. He should’ve been there to protect him. He should’ve been there to pull him out of harm’s way. He should've been there because it had been his fight.

He should’ve been there.

And yet… Izuku had still been fucking late.

“Deku, hey. You still there? Come on, say something,” Ochako said, her voice becoming even more worried, “Listen, if you need me, I can come over. Give me fifteen minutes—”

“No, no,” Izuku finally choked out, cringing slightly at how tight his chest had suddenly become. He felt like he could barely even breathe. “It’s fine, I’m just… I haven’t slept since everything happened. I’m just really tired, that’s all. And I'd hate for you to come over and then immediately watch me pass out.”

There was a silence, where he could clearly picture in his head Ochako’s little frown, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Deku, if you’re lying to me, I swear—”

“I’m not lying, ‘Chako,” he chided softly, “Although, I do appreciate the offer. Don’t get me wrong.”

A breathy sigh, and then, “Alright. Just… give me a call if you need anything?”

“I will,” Izuku reassured, a soft smile falling on his lips.

“And I mean anything, Izuku,” Ochako emphasized.

Then, after a few extended goodbyes, she finally hung up and left Izuku standing there, clutching at the front of his shirt. He took in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but it was hard without someone there to hold on to. Usually when Izuku spiraled like this, Katsuki was at his side in a heartbeat, rubbing gentle circles into his chest and telling him to breathe, to remind him that it was in the past, to reassure him that he was ok, and he wasn’t going anywhere. But Katsuki wasn’t there, because Katsuki was asleep, because Izuku had been fucking late again and, oh god—

He lowered his forehead onto the cool countertop, willing his breath to slow down, willing himself to just focus. Focus on something else, anything else, before he ended up passing out.

What was he doing again? Right, food. He was going to make something for Katsuki the next time he woke up. He could do that. He could do that.

He pulled himself up from the counter, taking a steadying breath, before finally burying himself in the recipe, trying to forget the tide of memories still pulling at his ankles.

-

The next time Katsuki woke up, he felt like he was dying. 

Everything in his body ached, his head swam, and he felt a heavy fog over the front of his consciousness like a thick black curtain, even when he opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure where the hell he was, or why the fuck it was so dark, but something heavy and thick was weighing on top of his chest. It felt suffocating, and he quickly started to shove it off, scrambling away from it as far as possible. Beaded sweat gathered on his forehead as he struggled to sit up, leaving an icy cold trail down the side of his face as it dripped down his temple. Still, he managed to shy away from whatever had been pressed on top of him, only to immediately slide off the surface he was on and land on the hard ground a few feet below. He landed on his back, the wind getting knocked from his lungs as a wave of pain crashed into him. 

Distantly, he thought maybe he should be screaming at how terrible it felt, but it was all clouded over by the haze in his mind. Instead, he just took a shuddering breath, cold air suddenly invading his senses and sending a stiff chill down his spine. He curled into himself protectively, body shivering and throbbing, but he forced himself to crack his eyes open again, even as everything swam and spun and blurred together. Wherever he was, he needed to get the fuck out of here. He needed to get home. He needed to get back to Deku. He’d fight through the pain, he’d lift himself back on his feet, he’d crawl if he had to, anything to get back to—

“Deku,” he croaked, thoughts suddenly spilling onto his lips as he reached out, trying to push himself up again. What if Izuku was nearby? What if he was hurt? What if he needed Katsuki’s help? “Deku!” called again, but his voice wasn’t nearly loud enough, and he was starting to panic. 

His breaths started coming short and shallow, his heart beating out of his chest, both of which were making him dizzier by the second. If he didn’t get a handle on his hysteria, he would surely pass out, but he couldn’t get himself to calm down. He didn’t know where he was or what was happening to him. He felt so lethargic, completely helpless and in the dark and… scared . 

He was scared.

Suddenly, a feeling rushed back to him—or maybe a memory—something burning in his chest, a hand raised out in front of him, with death so close that he was already falling toward it. But none of that mattered, because there was only one thought on his mind. Only one thing he could think of. Only one thing that he cared about .

Izuku.

“Izuku,” he whimpered.

And just like that, Katsuki suddenly felt gentle arms wrap around him, pulling him up off the floor and away from the darkness. The contact was soft and warm— too warm—and it sent blood rushing back to his head, causing his thoughts to spin and his nerves to surge with tingles. He felt his eyelids flutter at the overstimulation, causing a sudden head rush as crimson irises rolled and his skull dropped backward, trying to meet the ground once more. But it never got the chance, because suddenly someone was catching him, a gentle hand supporting the nape of his neck and tugging him closer. 

Then, he felt a soft pressure against his chest, so unlike the uncomfortable weight from before. No, this touch was tender and gentle and… familiar, somehow. Like he’d been here before, lying in these arms, with the same hand pressed against his heart.

“There you go,” he heard a whisper, “deep breaths. Take your time, Kacchan.”

Kacchan. 

Oh, it was Izuku who’d caught him. Izuku whose arms he was in. Izuku who was whispering quietly to him while he tried his best to clear the fog in his mind, trying to remember exactly what had happened to him. It felt like it was a million miles away at the moment, like it would take all his remaining strength to try and pull back the thick black curtain at the forefront of his consciousness. But Izuku had said take your time, so he stopped trying to reach for it, instead focusing on something simple. Something within his grasp. Something he could hold on to…

“I’m right here,” Izuku said softly, “Just keep breathing.”

So he did. In and out. In and out. Over and over again. With each breath, his mind got a little clearer, his panic and desperation fading away, absent so long as Izuku was there. To hold him. To protect him. To take care of him. Somehow he knew, as long as he was in these arms, he’d always be safe.

“Zu...” 

The whisper slipped out of his lips before he could stop it, and like a moth to a flame, Katsuki suddenly felt something fluffy brush his crown, a forehead pressing gently into his, before he heard Izuku finally murmur, “I’ve got you, Katsuki. I’ve got you.”

And with that, Katsuki felt what little energy he had left slip from his fingertips, and he let his eyes slide closed once more as he drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of familiar arms.

-

After a few minutes of listening to Katsuki’s breathing come and go evenly, Izuku’s hand still lying on his chest for extra measure, counting his breaths with a practiced touch, he finally pulled his forehead away from the blonde’s, eyes immediately settling on the curve of his pale face, his hair and skin practically white underneath the moonlight streaming in from their bedroom window. 

Night had fallen outside a couple hours ago, after Izuku had spent the rest of the day prepping meals and doing laundry, checking on Katsuki intermittently. He’d finally been able to remove the sling from his arm, settling him in for the night, before flopping down on the couch to put on a movie. He’d had the full intention of pulling another all-nighter, just in case, bitter memories and gut-wrenching guilt making it impossible to properly rest without tossing and turning. But he must’ve been more exhausted than he thought, because the next thing he knew, he was snapping awake to the sound of his name.

“Deku!”

He wasted no time bursting into the bedroom after that, only to find Katsuki on the floor, folded into himself and shivering uncontrollably. The panic he’d felt in that moment was practically insurmountable, and he could still feel his heart pounding in his ears, words echoing loudly, screaming in the back of his head, even as he held Katsuki safe and sound in his arms.

HOW DID YOU LIKE MY LITTLE PRESENT?

Izuku flinched at the memory, tears biting at the corners of his eyes as his emotions spilled over uncontrollably—an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and grief and guilt slamming into him, hard. He quickly raised his head toward the ceiling and let out a breathy huff, trying to blink his emotions away. This wasn’t the right moment to break down. He could deal with all his shit later. Right now, Kacchan needed him.

So, he busied himself with tucking Katsuki back into bed, gently lifting him off the floor before laying him back down, carefully pulling the covers back over him to help with the shivering. The thought of leaving his side again was too terrifying to even consider, especially after he’d just woken up in a panic, and Izuku abesntly wondered what had sent Katsuki into an attack like that. His heart had been racing when Izuku started gently talking him down,   but he instantly resolved to not take his eyes off Katsuki again—not even for a second—scared that he would somehow manage to slip through Izuku’s fingers. 

Again. 

There was just too much going on in his head, too many memories he couldn’t seem to shake. Not without Kastuki there to whisper him reassurances. To promise him he was okay. To chase away the darkness with soft words and gentle kisses. So, Izuku crawled into the sheets next to him for comfort, for protection, pressing himself flush against the blonde’s side and gently pushing an arm over his torso, before he settled his head in the crook of the blonde’s uninjured shoulder. It was only then that he finally let himself relax—even though it was hard, his entire body still trembling from finding Katsuki on the floor—but he took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh as he pressed deeper into Katsuki, trying to trade off his warmth to the other as much as possible. Katsuki was still shivering a little, and Izuku felt himself on the verge of breaking down all over again, but he willed the tears away, forcing himself to stay here, in the moment, and push away painful images that threatened to wash ashore.

Instead, he focused on the sound of Katsuki’s heartbeat, his breathing, bathing in the familiarity of it and patiently waiting for him to wrap an arm around his waist in return, to push a nose into his curls, to whisper his name into his ear with all the affection he could manage to muster. But it never came. 

Katsuki slept on, and eventually—as it always seemed to be with the two of them—Izuku followed him; into the drifts of sleep.

-

When Katsuki woke up again, the haze had lifted.

He squinted through the morning light, his joints aching slightly with disuse, his muscles still half-asleep. His head felt clogged and groggy, but his mind felt clear, and he quickly let out a tiny sigh of relief, glad that the effects of the quirk he’d been hit with had finally lifted. Now, he could get back to his hero work and his boyfriend and eat a proper fucking meal because, fuck, he was starving.

He felt warmth clinging to his body, and as his eyes continued to adjust to the sunny atmosphere of the room, he turned his head and smiled at the mess of soft viridian curls that was resting on his shoulder. He was about to call his name, to wake him up just to catch a glimpse of those ethereal green eyes, when his smile suddenly fell, wiped clean from his face as he finally took in Izuku’s expression. His brow was creased, eyes still closed as his jaw flexed, clenching his teeth together in distress, even as he slept.

Katsuki blinked a few times, just to make sure that he was seeing it right, before immediately wanting to smooth the concern out of Izuku’s brow with a thumb, but when he lifted his arm up to reach out to him, it was still stiff and achy. He managed to move it just enough to reach the bottom of Izuku’s jaw, and he began to gently rub across his soft skin with a thumb, trying to soothe his troubled expression in any way he could.

He wasn’t entirely sure how they’d ended up this way—Izuku’s entire body pressed against his, an arm thrown over his chest in a firm hold, his fingers deep in the fabric of Katsuki's hoodie, and most of his body covering Katsuki’s own, as if he was trying to shield him—but every time he tried to remember, he only came up blank. He definitely remembered… something. A feeling of not being able to come back up for air. Panic, thick and dark and suffocating, like he was drowning, before he finally heard a gentle voice, gentle arms, gentle words. A feeling of infinite comfort and warmth. A hand reaching for him and pulling him back to safety.

That, he knew, had been Izuku.

Katsuki was still carefully brushing at Izuku’s chin, about ready to drive himself crazy over what could be causing him distress, but not brave enough to wake him, when finally Izuku stirred. His eyes slowly opened, staring at nothing for a moment, before he suddenly seemed to jerk awake, expression turning frantic as he sat up at little to look at Katsuki. 

As soon as their gazes met, he let out a tiny huff of laughter, relief flooding his eyes as he smiled brightly and murmured, “You’re awake.”

Katsuki stared at him for a moment, finally able to reach his arm high enough to smooth out the wrinkle still in Izuku’s brow, before trailing down his cheek and thumbing at his freckles. A frown had started to tug at his lips, and he watched as Izuku’s own smile fell at the sight of it, wearing back into concern. He reached up to catch Katsuki’s wrist in his hand, tugging his fingers away from his face and making Katsuki’s frown deepen.

“Don’t do that if it hurts,” Izuku said softly, “I took off the sling, but your collarbone—”

“What’s wrong?” Katsuki interrupted, his voice rough and hoarse—even more so than the last time he remembered walking up—but that didn’t pull any of his attention away from Izuku, still gazing at him searchingly. The nerd had a bad habit of hiding shit from him, and if there was a reason he was upset, Katsuki wanted to know. Now. “Shitty dreams?”

Izuku’s eyes widened a bit, surprise passing over his features, before he smiled and shook his head, “No, it’s nothing,” he said quickly, before moving on, “How are you feeling?” 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, studying Izuku carefully. He looked exhausted, even more so than when Katsuki had woken up the first time. The dark circles under his eyes were even deeper now, and his hair was a wiry mess. He was even still in the same clothes, which meant he hadn’t bothered to shower or change since, and he probably hadn’t eaten anything either. Fucking idiot. 

Katsuki had known Deku for years, and he knew when something was fucking wrong. He knew when something was weighing heavily on the nerd's mind, and whatever it was this time around, it looked like it was just about ready to crush him. He wanted to know what, to cure whatever ache had been eating at Izuku, but Katsuki knew he wouldn't get anything out of the nerd while he was still worried, so he quickly answered the question.

“I feel fine. Normal,” Katsuki murmured reassuringly, his voice soft but scratchy, “I’m pretty sure whatever that quirk was, it finally wore off.”

Izuku’s smile immediately brightened, his eyes shining like emeralds in the morning light. “Good,” he said, before taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh—as if he was finally able to breathe again—ducking his head out of Katsuki's line of sight as his voice suddenly turned wet, “I’m so relieved.”

And then, Katsuki heard a choked sob escape Izuku, and felt his heart stutter as he spotted a drop of moisture fall from somewhere behind his green bangs. The man opposite him immediately pushed his palms into his face, trying to hide his expression as he buried his tears in his hands, the tips of his ears already flushing with emotion.

“ Sorry. I’m sorry,” Izuku said quickly, before Katsuki could even react, his voice coming out in choked, disjointed syllables as he began to ramble, “I don’t know why I’m crying. I shouldn’t be like this right after you just woke up— god , I’m such a mess. And now you're worrying about me and you shouldn’t be because—I know I didn’t sleep much but—I promise, I’m fine. It’s not like I haven’t done it before, but I was just worried about you and I couldn’t get any rest. And I know you told me to take care of myself, but I swear, it’s nothing—”

But before he could get out another word, Katsuki was reaching out a hand, grabbing Izuku’s shoulder and tugging him forward gently, pulling his head into his shoulder as he ran a comforting hand through Izuku’s hair. Izuku buried himself in the touch, hiding his face in Katsuki’s hoodie as he continued to cry, and Katsuki couldn’t help but try to pull him closer, nosing his way into Izuku’s curls. 

He knew the nerd had been worried about him, but despite all his rambling words, it still felt like Izuku was holding something back, and he quickly murmured into his hair, "It's clearly not nothing if you’re this upset,” subconsciously reaching up his other hand to brush fleetingly across Izuku’s jaw once more, only now it was to swipe at the stream of tears dripping down his neck. "Did something happen while I was out?” he asked quietly, “D’you wanna talk about it?"

He felt Izuku tense against him, before he was suddenly pushing himself away from Katsuki’s chest, head still bent as he reached up to finish what the blonde had started, brushing away his stray tears. He still hadn’t looked at Katsuki since he started crying, and even when he started speaking, he didn’t bother to look up, lips tightly pressed into a thin line. "It’s nothing, really, you just…" he trailed off for a moment, his voice wavering as he propped himself up on an arm. 

Katsuki’s hand immediately gravitated toward it, running his knuckles up and down Izuku’s freckled skin absently, craving the close contact they had before, but knowing Izuku needed space to breathe right now. To think. To speak.

It took another minute or so, but finally he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper as he explained, “Last night you were just really out of it and… and you were panicked. I mean, you were barely conscious, and you kept shivering, and I found you on the floor so it freaked me out a little, and I… I should've just…"

Izuku bit his tongue suddenly, tangled curls falling into his eyes as he ducked his head further from Katsuki’s view, and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel like there was supposed to be more. Like there was still something the nerd wasn’t telling him, and he couldn't help but want to take the pain out of his voice and the tears out of his eyes, tuck him protectively against his chest and just hold him again. To keep him safe from whatever was going on inside his head.

“Is that it?” he asked gently, eyes traveling down to the back of Izuku’s hand, beginning to draw tiny stars on top of his knuckles, in between his freckles. It was something he did to soothe Izuku’s nerves whenever he got too overwhelmed by his own feelings, and it seemed to do the trick, because suddenly Izuku was taking a deep breath.

His gaze was still pointed at the bed sheets, bangs still covering most of Katsuki’s view, but he still managed to choke out as he teared up all over again, “You—You called my name… and you sounded so scared… and I—I wasn't there… Again."  

Katsuki felt his heart drop just as Izuku's knuckles went white underneath his fingers, clenching the bedsheets tighter. He sniffled, louder this time, and Katsuki glanced up just in time to see tiny drops of moisture falling from somewhere underneath his bangs, just before Izuku started to shake his head back and forth. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “This is so stupid, especially when you're the one who got hurt."

"It's not stupid, Izuku," Katsuki said in a hushed voice. "It's okay—"

"It's not okay!" Izuku suddenly exclaimed, jerking his head up to finally look Katsuki in the eye, and the look on his face seemed to hit Katsuki harder than any quirk ever could. His juniper eyes were overflowing with emotion, glistening with iridescent tears, dripping down his face and gathering underneath his chin. “I was late! Again!” he keened, voice breaking in all the wrong places, ringing in Katsuki’s ears as raw pain and grief ripped through his words, his fist pounding against his chest as he bent forward, “I should’ve been faster, I don't even know—I shouldn't have left your side. What was I even thinking?  I told you I’d be right behind you, but I couldn't even get there in time to protect you! And I just can’t—I can’t go through that ever again, Kacchan, I just can’t,” he ducked his head down again, hands coming up into his hair to yank at his roots, eyes squeezing shut as his voice continued to shatter, “But it’s my fault in the first place and I just—it feels the same way it did back then. Like it's all my fault. And I can't get it out of my head—”

" Hey,” Katsuki said firmly, grabbing Izuku’s arms, and pulling him forward a little, trying to tug him out of his head, to pull him back to shore, “ Breathe, Izuku. Just breathe.” 

Izuku took a gasping breath, fighting against his sobs, trying his best to listen, and after a few moments of shuddering breaths, Katsuki carefully moved one of his hands down to Izuku’s chest, gently beginning to rub circles into his sternum. Izuku immediately stilled against his touch, slowly turning his chin to look up at him with wide eyes as he released the grip on his curls, and although there were still tears running down his cheeks, his shoulders were suddenly relaxing, the calming motion seeming to wash through his entire body. 

He stared at Katsuki for a long moment, studying him intently, as if he was about to disappear, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter, shaking his head softly as he murmured, “Quit staring at me like that, nerd. M’okay. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Izuku’s breath hitched in his throat at the familiar reassurance, the same one Katsuki had told him a thousand times, his sobs all but subsiding under the blonde’s careful touch. Katsuki had yet to pull away from his torso, knuckles still rubbing gently across his chest and returning his teary gaze with a steady look, keeping Izuku grounded with his eyes alone. The space around them seemed to shrink, until there was nothing but the few inches that separated them, the soft feeling of Izuku’s t-shirt against Katsuki’s skin, and the warmth of his knuckles against Izuku’s sternum. And sure, for the moment, their world was small. But it was safe. 

It was theirs.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but through the quiet, Izuku’s tears eventually stopped falling, and Katsuki reached his free hand up to brush the remaining streaks of moisture from his freckled cheeks, thumbing them away with care. Izuku leaned into his touch, closing his eyes a little, before turning his gaze back on Katsuki.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words carrying on his breath, trying very hard not to break whatever fragile space they’d enclosed themselves in, but Katsuki heard what he really meant in those two words. He heard all the worry and distress and guilt Izuku had been awash in the past couple days—all without Katsuki there to comfort him, to offer him the words he so desperately needed to hear—and before he could stop himself, he was pushing himself further into Izuku’s space, forehead pressing into green curls and pinning them there.

“It’s not your fault, ‘Zuku,” he murmured softly, grinding his skull gently against his fluffy bangs, back and forth as he shook his head, “Never was. You should never feel like it was.”

Izuku was silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of soft breaths passing between them, before a few more words left his lips, sounding choked and strangled and tight in his throat. “But… I was late,” he managed, and there was something so shattering in those words alone that it made Katsuki want to return to the battlefield and force himself to climb back to his feet—if only to spare Izuku the sight of him; broken and bloody and gone.

“Y’weren’t late, idiot,” he whispered, pulling back a little to look at Izuku head-on, calloused fingers brushing stray bangs from his eyes, “You were right on time.”

Izuku stared at him, eyes widening as the words pierced through him—right where Katsuki knew they would—sinking deep into his heart.

 “You kept me safe. You held onto me. You took care of me. So cut it out with the my fault bullshit,” he lowered his voice a little, until it was nothing but a rough whisper, “You know it’s not true.”

For a moment, everything hung there, out in the open and suspended in mid-air. Their gazes had barely left each other during the conversation, eyes constantly finding and searching and memorizing each other. Eyes meeting in the same way a hibiscus bloomed: green and red. Always green and red.

Then, Izuku blinked, and the moment seemed to collapse along with him, tears filling his eyes as his head bowed and nestled into the crook of Katsuki’s shoulder. His hands grabbed needily at the front of Katsuki’s hoodie, tugging him closer, and Katsuki leaned into his touch, warmth finding its way back into his bones as Izuku curled against him. He was crying again, but it was slow and quiet this time, nothing like the sobs that had consumed him before, and Katsuki could feel Izuku’s body sinking into his, as if he was trying to meld the two of them together. Katsuki’s arms naturally found their way around Izuku’s waist, rubbing circles into his hips with his thumbs as he nosed his way into his hair once more, breathing in lavender and honey.

“You know why I called your name? When I was panicking?” Katsuki murmured, voice low and tender, and Izuku peeked up at him to show that he was listening, eyes still bright with tears. “It’s ‘cause you make me feel safe, Zu,” he reached up a hand, running it gently over Izuku’s stray curls, "I trust you more than anyone, and I know you'll always take care of me, so quit crying and blaming yourself for shit that's not your fault. You've always been there for me when I needed you the most, that still hasn’t changed.”

Izuku stared at him, the words slowly sinking into his freckled skin, his cheeks growing more pink with each new confession that spilled from Katsuki's lips.

"Kacchan—" he started, but Katsuki was already drawing him into a kiss, effectively silencing him as their lips met. The edges of Katsuki’s palm picked up the moisture from his cheeks, his grip on Izuku's jaw slipping a little with the dampness, but it still felt warm and familiar, hands shifting into the back of his hair, and Izuku’s fingers tugging insistently at his collar. It was a little messy, making Katsuki’s stomach churn with a thousand different emotions; but one seemed to stand out above all the rest. Comfort. Like coming home after a thousand years away.

After a few long exchanges, lips catching each other’s on every other breath, Katsuki finally pulled back, only daring to go so far that the tips of their noses were still brushing, and Izuku didn’t bother to finish his sentence, his thoughts left unfinished and forgotten as they just breathed each other in.

Then, finally, Katsuki murmured, “My turn to take care of you now, okay?”

Izuku closed his eyes, shaking his head a little and rubbing their noses back and forth as he mused, “I’m okay now, Kacchan. Really.”

“I know,” Katsuki replied softly, “but you’ve been taking such good care of me. So just let me take care of you,” then a smile tugged at his lips, playful and familiar as he tagged on, “You know I’m gonna do it anyway.”

Izuku let out an amused huff, before finally lifting his gaze up a little to look back at Katsuki, eyes dancing with fond affection.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he whispered softly, fingers finding the nape of his neck and drawing Katsuki back in.

Katsuki quirked an eyebrow in response, grin widening before he muttered, “Well, when we were five, someone decided they were gonna be a giant pain in my ass—”

But Izuku just smothered his words with a smile, laughing against his lips.

-

The rest of the morning had been spent pressed into each other as Katsuki and Izuku exchanged quiet words and talked things through. It was just one of many similar conversations they’d had, and eventually Izuku hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open any longer, tired from his own tangle of emotions, gently pulled loose through Katsuki’s gentle reassurances and tender touches. He’d fallen asleep in his arms, with the echo of a hand running through his curls, and when he woke up again Katsuki had still been there, shooting him a smile and showering him with kisses; watching over him the same way Izuku had, with a protective arm around his waist and his body pressed against his. He shook his head when Izuku asked if he still felt any kind of exhaustion, murmuring that he’d been awake the whole time Izuku had been out, which meant the quirk he’d been hit with really had worn off, much to Izuku’s relief—but he barely got the chance to say as much before Katsuki was grinning against his lips again, teasing him about how gross his hair was (despite the fact that he was still running his hands through it) and telling him to go take a shower.

By the afternoon, everything was back to normal.

Izuku sat at the table as Katsuki cooked dinner and ranted about all the group chat drama he’d spent the day catching up on—the same stuff Mina had mentioned over the phone—and how Kirishima had secretly blown up his cell with concerned messages as if Katsuki had died or some shit. Izuku commented on Ochako’s concerned phone call, and Katsuki had turned red at the notion of Class 1-A giving a shit about him, muttering something about having to kill them all the next time they all came over for being stupid over nothing. Izuku had laughed at that, knowing Katsuki was touched, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but Katsuki had just thrown a spoon at him in response, telling him to shut up or die and claiming he didn’t give a shit about some stupid extras. Izuku would tease him relentlessly for it later, but for now he was relieved to be back to their familiar song and dance, happy that Kacchan was back on his feet, grumbling and attempting to hide his blushes underneath an ever-wearing wall of pride.

It didn’t change the scars they carried or the weight of their memories. It didn’t change the fact that the two of them would always get worried about the other when they were apart, when the heat of the battle licked at their ankles and a villain happened to catch the upper hand. It didn’t change the fact that Izuku would still trip over his own guilt from time to time, or that Katsuki would be slammed in the face by his own fear, but for now, there was a comfort in just being there for each other, in knowing that there would always be a place of safety in between them. That, no matter what, they’d always be there to reach out a hand, and pull each other into familiar arms.