Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rain. Rain and mud and never ending gray concrete.

Once upon a time Izuku had loved the rain, but right now he’s not feeling particularly benevolent towards it. Or anything really, for that matter.

Thunder rolls across the sky, and more dark, heavy clouds collect in the North. The sign of a very, very angry warlock finding his favorite pet gone missing.

Izuku shivers and tries his best to shake some of the water out of his fur. He’s never going to be dry again. The bush he’s huddled under is poor protection from the downpour, and his paws and underbelly are filthy with mud.

A car turns the corner in the road and, completely uncaring of the shape shifter trembling under dark leaves, splashes water in a dirty, filthy arc through the air. It leaves Izuku drenched further and he makes a small, hurt noise, barely audible in his current rabbit-form.

For maybe the hundredth time he wishes he had shifted into something, literally anything else. A rabbit is completely out place running along sidewalks and ducking across city streets. Hell, running naked and terrified in his human form would have probably garnered the same amount of attention. Maybe even less if he’d headed for the shadier areas of the city.

But his absence has been noted, and if he tries to shift now, tires to release the magic within him that he’s dampened down, it’d be like sending up a beacon. He’s been running for hours but that wouldn’t matter. Izuku’s magic is too powerful, too distinctive to mistake for another’s, a veritable siren’s call in the middle of this dark, miserable city. He’d be found. Dragged back to that high rise apartment and collared once more, maybe even chained if the warlock is feeling particularly vindictive.

Eight months he spent with that horrid, horrid weight around his neck. Eight months of subtle, fine magic compelling him to follow every childish order, every demand, every whim and whimsy. Whether that had been feeding his power to the warlock or bending over to be fucked had depended on the day and the other’s mood.

Izuku shies away from the memory of petting hands and condescension. He shakes his head and tries to sneeze water and mud out of his nose but fails.

Where to now? He can’t sit around cowering under bushes forever, just waiting to be found. Unfortunately, street signs aren’t made to be viewed by someone so close to the ground. Not that he really knows where he is or would recognize the street names regardless.

Dejectedly, Izuku continues on his way, no direction in his mind except away. There’s nobody waiting for him, no home to return to. He’s been passed from hand to hand for so long that he’s not sure he even remembers what a home is really supposed to feel like. It’s not for want of trying, certainly. But in a world of magic and practitioners, Izuku is a rarity. Unlike witches and warlocks, Izuku is magic in and of himself, has magic rooted in his very bones. To put it shortly, he’s a power supply. But the only time he can actually tap into that power is when he’s shifting. The intricate spell work, the charms and curses and rituals are all lost to Izuku, completely beyond his reach.

In contrast, witches and warlocks can weave and bend magic to their will, but aren’t inherently magical. They have to draw power from themselves and from the world around them, usually wearing themselves out in the process. Izuku can fix that problem for them. When he shares his magic, it strengthens the practitioner, makes them more powerful, and doesn’t deplete their energy. It’s why Izuku is so sought after in the magical community.

They don’t want him though. Nobody wants just plain old Izuku, the shape shifter who likes to lounge in the sun as a cat, play in the dirt as a dog, and who keeps journals scribbled full of messy notes about magical theory. He can’t practice any of it himself, of course. But he doesn’t like the idea of practitioners pulling from him, and then not knowing what it is they’re doing with all his power. So his knowledge is extensive and runs deep, having turned into an actual interest somewhere along the way. Someday he wants to be able to share all that knowledge, to work side by side with someone instead of just being used like a super charged battery.

But that dream is old and slowly but surely being crushed under the weight of reality.No practitioner has ever cared about what he has to say. They pet him and feed him and call him pretty names, take his power, and then leave again.

There’s only been exception to that pattern and that’s the warlock Izuku is currently running from.

His paws drag through puddles, sending up little sprays of water that make his whiskers twitch. Exhaustion is starting to eat at him, and he finds his steps faltering as he hops along. His ears are trained for the sounds of cars and people alike as he darts from one hiding place to the next, trying desperately not to be seen.

Around him the storm is only picking up momentum. What had started as a fairly bright day is descending quickly into darkness, fat drops of water sinking deep into Izuku’s coat and chilling him. The lightning and thunder are still a ways off, but there’s a sharp wind picking up and it’s blowing them closer. Soon he won’t be able to see at all and he has half a mind to find a hiding spot to wait it out.

That’s just what he wants though, and Izuku absolutely refuses to be caught. Not again.

The crowding of buildings is just slowly starting to fade into suburbia when he feels it. The warmth of protective magic.

Izuku zeros in on a gas station across the street. The bright orange car is hard to miss, all sleek lines and noisy engine. A man opens the door and steps out. Ashy blonde hair sticking up in every direction, dark clothes, and a scowl on his face. Something about him is familiar but from this distance Izuku can’t really place what. The man goes inside the gas station and Izuku…well, he can’t resist.

When the road is clear he darts across it, little rabbit heart pounding in his chest. His claws scrabble against the concrete, splashing through dirty puddles as he makes his way as quickly as possible to the car. For a moment he’s worried it’s too low to the ground for him to fit, but when he’s close enough he realizes there’s just enough room for him to duck under it comfortably.

Instantly his heart beat starts to slow and his breathing evens out.

The magic is hot and so very welcome against his trembling form. He’s not really certain what kind of person spells their car but right now he doesn’t care. His own magic, dampened as it is, will be hidden under the intricate spell work of this stranger, and for just a moment Izuku feels safe. Protected.

Reality comes knocking a few minutes later when dark shoes approach the car, stopping beside it. But the witch doesn’t seem to notice his presence, quietly going about the process of filling up his tank.

Izuku won’t be able to hide here forever, sadly. Just thinking about going back out into the rain makes him want to sob, but there’s nothing to be done about it. He decides he’ll make a break for new cover once the witch gets inside again, and he gathers what little strength he has left as those dark shoes approach the drivers side door.

But they pause. Izuku’s heart leaps into his throat in fear as jean-clad knees hit the pavement and bright red eyes peer through the darkness at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The voice is husky and quiet, and suddenly Izuku remembers exactly who this witch is. Katsuki Bakugou. An infamous ignis witch, though the more popular and slightly derogatory term is pyre witch. Someone whose power lies in flame, in destruction, in ash.

Of the few that live in the city, Katsuki is by far considered the worst. He’s rude, next to impossible to work with, and is said to catch fire, both literally and figuratively, the moment he gets pissed off.

Or so Izuku’s been told.

He actually recognizes Katsuki’s voice because he ran into him once, years ago, at a convention. They happen twice a year or so, huge gatherings where witches and warlocks gather to share trade secrets and reconnect. Izuku mostly used them for networking, seeking out whoever treated him the nicest in exchange for his power. Katsuki had never been one of the ones lining up for Izuku’s attention though, and when they had accidentally bumped into each other his gaze had been hard, bordering on disgusted.

Suddenly this hiding place seems like a terrible idea, and Izuku bemoans his decision making skills. First he willingly crawled into bed with a warlock, and now this?

But the pale man crouched down to look at him doesn’t seem angry. His mouth is pulled into a slight frown but the eyes are curious, expression open in a way it certainly hadn’t been upon their first meeting.

“If you don’t want to get run over, you gotta come out,” Katsuki says reasonably, if a bit brusquely. When Izuku only trembles he sighs. “C’mon, get out of there. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

A pale hand extends underneath the car, offering but not really reaching. It’s smart actually. Grabbing at a scared animal will only scare them further, but an open, relaxed hand speaks of harmlessness and safety. Izuku takes a single step forward despite himself, and then another. It’s not like he can stay under here anyways.

When he’s close enough, that huge hand scoops him up and pulls him the rest of the way out. Katsuki isn’t rough but he’s not exactly gentle either as he stands, holding Izuku out in front of him. His nose wrinkles.

“A fucking rabbit. What the fuck are you doing out here all alone?”

Izuku squirms, uncomfortable in the hold. Katsuki has him under his front legs, and his hind legs hang unsupported and heavy in the open air. He’s tempted to try and kick at Katsuki or wriggle out of his grip, but he’s being pulled close before he has the chance.

“Ugh, you’re all muddy,” Katsuki continues, and Izuku can feel the rumble of his voice where he’s pressed close to the witch’s chest. A solid arm moves to support his dangling feet.

Katsuki is a veritable furnace, and Izuku finds himself melting into him. Before he realizes it he’s being bundled into the shiny, expensive car and his chance for escape dwindles to nothing. When Katsuki sheds his jacket and wraps Izuku in it, setting him safely in the passenger seat, he can’t find it within himself to care.

For a pyre witch, Katsuki doesn’t seem so bad. And it’s not like Izuku wasn’t sleeping with a damn warlock so he can’t really judge. But the almost -not quite, but almost- gentle treatment is still a shock.

Inside the car the spell work is stronger, and the heat of it sinks into Izuku’s bones. He snuggles into the jacket. It’s thick with Katsuki’s scent, something dark and smokey and his exhausted brain conjures images of pine logs in a warm hearth, ash in the fire-pit of a camp ground deep in the mountains, a lone sparkler bright against the night sky.

He’s fallen asleep before he realizes it.

Chapter Text

There’s a very, very large part of Izuku that says he should be absolutely panicking right now. He tells himself that this situation is dangerous, and unfamiliar, and he should be running for the hills. Possibly screaming.

But Izuku’s baser animal instincts, his hindbrain, is in complete and total bliss.

With a small huff he leans into the fingers scratching under his chin. There’s warm water pouring down over his back and Katsuki is busy working soap through Izuku’s fur, getting him clean, and honestly? The part of him that isn’t freaking out thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. When one paw is lifted, those nimble, scarred fingers pressing gently on the pad, he allows it without complaint. He even lets Katsuki manhandle him into different positions so that the witch can scrub him all over.

If he were a cat, he’d be purring. Clicking his teeth together is the bunny equivalent, but it doesn’t feel as nice as a purr. Doesn’t vibrate his chest and resonate low in the pit of his stomach.

He probably should have run the moment he recognized Katsuki Bakugou. The witch is infamous for a reason, and if you asked Izuku if he thought Katsuki would pick him up out of the rain and mud and then take him home to give him a bath he would have laughed in your face.

But here he is. Safe and sound and covered in dish soap. There’s even a small smile curling up the corner of Katsuki’s mouth, though the furrow on his brow seems permanent.

“Aren’t pets supposed to hate baths?” he asks. It’s a rhetorical question and Izuku just shakes his head, effectively flinging water everywhere.

Katsuki curses as he’s splattered, backing away from the sink. “Fucker!” he snaps, but he still doesn’t seem angry. After eyeing Izuku warily for a second he returns and goes back to rinsing soap out of his fur. “Keep that shit up and I’m gonna make stew out of you.”

Izuku doesn’t believe him for a second. Even the more rational side of Izuku is starting to calm down. It’s hard not to be charmed by Katsuki when he’s treating him so nicely.

But then, he had been gentle too. At first Izuku had been wary when they’d met because warlocks have a certain reputation. The only difference between witches and warlocks is how they practice magic, but there’s still a stereotype about each, and that stereotype exists for a reason. Warlocks are seen as black magic users. As greedy. Evil, even. So Izuku hadn’t trusted him right off the bat. But he’d been so nice, all soft hands and sugary sweets, little sips of alcohol from his own glass, until Izuku was practically crawling into his lap and purring.

And look where that had gotten him. Collared, compelled, unable to leave that glossy high-rise for eight entire months. The huge bay windows had shown him the life of the city so far down below, and he’d hated them so, so much for that reminder of what he’d lost.

Suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, Izuku flinches away from the fingers digging into his fur.

Katsuki pauses, head cocking to the side as he reaches for Izuku, and Izuku again moves away. It’s not like there’s far for him to go though, and his claws scrabble uselessly against the slick metal of the sink.

What if he’s falling into the same stupid trap again? Why is he always like this? He’s so desperate to be wanted, to belong somewhere, that every kind word or touch has him following along blindly. And it’s not like he’s an idiot; he knows better. But he can’t seem to help himself anyway! And all of Katsuki’s fussing is just going to make him do the same damn thing all over again, pyre witch or no.

Panicking, Izuku does the only thing he can think of. He reaches over and bites Katsuki’s hand as hard as he can.

If he pisses the witch off enough, he’ll get angry right? He’ll show his true nature and treat Izuku badly, and then Izuku won’t get carried away.

Katsuki jerks away from him with a curse, blood flowing freely down pale skin. “What the actual fuck!?”

Guilt wells in Izuku’s chest but he pushes it away, taking his opening now that it’s there. Awkwardly he pulls himself out of the sink and on to the counter, and then hurls himself off the edge before Katsuki can do much more than curse some more.

The fall jars him terribly and spreads an ache through his paws, but he has no time to try and recover. As soon as he touches down on wood he’s running for all he’s worth, dripping water all the way.

“Hey! Fuck, what the fucking-” He can hear loud footsteps as Katsuki chases after him, but he’s wearing socks and they slip and slide against the wet floor, giving Izuku a slight advantage.

Out of the kitchen, down a hallway, into what looks like a living room. Izuku’s heart is beating so fast he thinks it might break his ribs as he dives under the couch, wriggling his hips desperately to try and get them to fit. Once he’s in he whirls around and backs up until the wall is at his back. Thank god Katsuki keeps his couch against a wall in the first place.

Katsuki comes sliding into the living room, nearly running into his coffee table in the process. But he stops. Pauses. Gets close to couch so that he can kneel down for the second time that day and peer at Izuku in his hiding place.

But the witch doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t reach after Izuku. He just stares, red gaze so intense it makes Izuku tremble, and then he huffs and stands up again. His sock-clad feet move away, back towards the kitchen.

Izuku lets out a shaky breath. After a few minutes his panic starts to subside, breath coming easier and heart slowing to something steady. Just in time for guilt to coming creeping in. Did he overreact? He really shouldn’t have bitten Katsuki, that was just plain mean. It’s not like Katsuki even knows what Izuku is, and so long as Izuku plays his cards right, he never will.

Still, he can’t help his little pulse of fear and uncertainty. Not again. He won’t ever let himself be collared again. When the opportunity presents itself, he’ll escape and be on his merry way, Katsuki none the wiser of what and who was right under his nose. Izuku can only shudder when he thinks about how the witch might react if he found out he’s been lied to.

So Izuku settles, preparing to wait Katsuki out. He’s just started the arduous process of cleaning couch dust out of his fur when the witch returns. Izuku feels himself tense but Katsuki just places a small bowl on the floor before moving away again. Not far, just into the hall where Izuku can hear him pause and mumble quietly to himself.

The bowl is innocuous enough. White porcelain. Set close to the couch but not quite underneath it. Izuku’s nose twitches and he can smell something leafy and green within.

Katsuki brought him food?

“Hey.” The word startles Izuku and he pauses mid-step, gaze flickering towards the hall. But Katsuki hasn’t appeared again, and his voice picks up without a response. “You know shit about animals, right?”

He must be on the phone. Distracted. Izuku creeps closer to the bowl, all the while keeping his body low to the ground and his eyes glued to the hall entrance. The last time he ate was sometime the night before.

Katsuki grunts and Izuku can hear him pace towards the kitchen, voice drifting. “No, but I found a rabbit on my way home. No. No, like a fucking pet rabbit, you dipshit! I have no idea! Must have a shitty owner or something.”

The bowl contains a small mixture of vegetables; spinach, carrots, arugula. The type of stuff you’d feed to a rabbit you had no clue was a shape shifter. Izuku sticks his head over the porcelain rim and then pulls it closer until it’s partially under the couch and he can eat without having to leave his shelter.

“It fucking bit me,” Katsuki is continuing. Izuku munches quietly and trains his ears, trying to pick up more and wishing he could hear the other side of the conversation. “I don’t think so. It was perfectly fine, let me pick it up and shit, and then in the middle of giving it a bath it bit me and ran off. Yeah? Maybe. It’s hiding under the couch now. I put out some food so hopefully it’ll eat that and not tear up any of my shit.”

Ah. Well that explains the food.

“What!? No, I wouldn’t fucking hurt it! What the hell do you take me for, huh?” A pause, and Izuku can faintly hear Katsuki breathe out harshly, a violent gust of air. “No, I know. Look, just send me those fucking websites okay? So I know what I’m doing. No I’m not going to fucking keep it. It feels like fucking magic, probably someone’s familiar or something.”

Izuku can physically feel his stomach drop out from under him. Suddenly the carrot in his mouth is no longer summer sweet.

“Just ask around and see if someone’s missing a familiar or a pet, okay? What? Oh. He’s dark brown and white. Long ears. I don’t know, it looks like a fucking rabbit! A fluffy, asshole rabbit!”

Katsuki keeps talking but Izuku can’t hear him anymore. Fuck, he didn’t hide his magic well enough. Not that he ever could have hidden it completely, but if he’d done it right Katsuki wouldn’t have noticed it so easily. At least the witch thinks Izuku is a familiar and not a shape shifter, but what happens when nobody shows up to claim him?

Hopefully Izuku will be long gone before suspicion can arise. And if he wants to escape, he needs to keep his strength up. He resumes eating with little enthusiasm, and when he’s done he nudges the bowl back out from under the couch.

His fur’s still wet, he’s still feeling guilty, and he’s trapped in the home of a dangerous ignis witch. Said witch might be trying to help him, but for how long? Izuku presses himself against the wall again and curls up tight, exhausted, scared, unsure. For a while he dozes, not really comfortable enough to sleep fully but too tired to keep his eyes open regardless.

Outside the storm continues to rage.

Katsuki is quiet on the other side of the house, though occasionally Izuku hears the kitchen sink run or pots and pans bang together. The smell of cooking food drifts through the house, hot and enticing. And though the veggies Katsuki had brought would have probably been quite filling for a regular rabbit, they barely touched Izuku’s magically enhanced appetite. His stomach growls loudly and he curls further around it trying and failing not to drown in his own self pity.

Maybe if he ventures out, Katsuki will feed him more?

No. He can’t.

But if he doesn’t keep his strength up, he won’t be able to escape. And who knows when he’ll find a hot, home cooked meal again?

In the end his hunger wins out. Izuku wriggles his way out from under the couch and cautiously hops his way down the hall. He pauses at the entrance to the kitchen, taking in all the counter space, the hanging rack over the island, the wide, double-doored fridge. Katsuki’s back is to him as he stirs a pot on the stove, one hand on his hip. He looks domestic. Comfortable. At some point he must have changed out of the clothes Izuku got all wet and muddy because he’s wearing sweats and a tank-top now, feet bare.

He must cook a lot with a kitchen this nice. Izuku is pretty sure the plants in the window above the sink are all herbs.

Sneaking closer, Izuku’s nose wriggles as he tries to figure out what’s being made. Whatever’s in the pot smells amazing but he’s not sure how he can get Katsuki to share with him.

Before he can come up with an answer, Katsuki glances over his shoulder and catches sight of him. His eyes narrow, muscles twitching like he’s going to turn around but then thinks better of it. Instead he faces the stove again.

“I’m surprised you came out so soon,” he says idly.

Izuku hops a little closer.

“That site shitty hair sent me said I should give you some space or whatever the fuck. Figured you’d probably be hiding under my couch all fucking night.”

He kind of wants to if he’s being honest. But food.

“Maybe you’re hungry?” Katsuki continues. How cute it is it that he’s actually talking to a rabbit? A big bad ignis witch, trying not to scare off a fluffy bunny.

No! Bad Izuku! Katsuki is dangerous and Izuku needs to run away the first chance he gets. He’s only getting close because he needs to eat. Right.

Izuku closes the last of the distance between them, until he’s sitting next to Katsuki’s feet and tilting his head back to look at him.

The witch watches him with his brow furrowed. “You’re really fucking hot and cold, you know that?” he says after a moment. “First you bite the shit out of me, now you’re going to beg for food.”

There’s a white bandage on his hand and the sight of it makes Izuku twist up with guilt again. Before he can think better of it, he butts his head gently against Katsuki’s leg in apology.

It makes the witch mutter something under his breath before sighing. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll share, but only because you’re fucking skin and bones.” With that he gently kicks at Izuku, taps him with his foot really, until Izuku shuffles out of his way. The rabbit watches with perked ears as Katsuki pulls something out of the oven and goes about making up a plate for himself. At the last second he veers off into the living room to grab Izuku’s bowl and fills that too.

Izuku hops along behind him as he carries both plate and bowl into a little dining nook off the kitchen. The table is tall and only has two chairs; not the furniture of someone who has company often, or who regularly cooks for others.

“I’d give you some of the marinara since it’s fucking bangin’ if I do say so myself,” Katsuki says, placing Izuku’s bowl on the ground, “but it has meat in it. So noodles and garlic bread for you.”

Izuku falls on the bowl like a man dying because pasta. Granted, the sauce on Katsuki’s plate smells really, really good, but even the noodles and bread alone are amazing. He knows nothing about cooking at all, could probably burn water if he tried, but he thinks maybe all of this is homemade? Whatever it is, or however it was cooked, it’s delicious.

Above him Katsuki snorts and takes his seat at the table. “Greedy little shit,” he mutters, then seems to pause. “I fucking hope none of that shit is toxic for you. Fuck, now I have to look it up. Goddamnit.”

Izuku snorts. Even if any of it was toxic for rabbits, it wouldn’t affect him. So he ignores Katsuki as he fucks around on his phone, muttering occasionally to himself and stabbing at his pasta. After a few minutes he seems satisfied with whatever he found and they finish their meals together in an almost companionable silence.

When they’re done, Katsuki grabs the dishes but pauses partially bent over, staring Izuku down. “Ugh, you’re all dusty. I don’t suppose you’d let me bathe you again?”

Izuku hastily backs up a step and Katsuki sighs, standing and heading towards the sink. “Yeah, figured. Whatever, stay dirty. Just don’t go jumping on any of my fucking furniture, okay?” With a practiced air he goes about dishes, putting away left overs, and wiping down the stove and counter tops. Izuku watches it all with curiosity.

He’s only been here a few hours and already Katsuki isn’t matching up with his public image. Maybe he’s different once he’s around other people? Probably. You don’t get a reputation like his for no reason.

It doesn’t matter either way though. Because Izuku isn’t going to stay long enough to find out, and he’s certainly not going to be around Katsuki and other people at the same time.

Still, he can’t help himself from following Katsuki when he finally flicks the kitchen light off and wanders down the hall. He heads into a room Izuku hasn’t been in yet, but doesn’t close the door behind himself. Izuku takes that as permission enough to go with.

The rabbit pauses at the threshold, taking in the bookshelves, the impressive desk, all the space cleared right in the middle of the room. There’s a fire extinguisher tucked into a corner, right next to a large box fan. .

Katsuki glances back at him for a moment before shrugging to himself and picking up several items off the desk. He sits in the middle of the floor with them, pulling close several porcelain bowls. “I guess you can stay,” he says, glancing up at Izuku again. “Just don’t come any closer. I don’t want whatever magic you’ve got on you fucking me up.”

Izuku sits back on his haunches obediently, finding himself even more curious now. He’s never seen an ignis witch at work before. There are rumors of course, about how they use fire to work their magic, but it’s a rare affinity and nobody ever seems sure about the details.

Katsuki eyes him warily but seems satisfied when Izuku doesn’t budge. He spreads the three bowls in front of himself first, one empty, one holding long, thin incense-like sticks, and one filled with water. Then he spreads out the objects he’d grabbed too; a pair of kids sneakers, a book, and a pair of glasses. Izuku cocks his head at the random assortment. What exactly is Katsuki planning to do here?

Breathing out slowly through his nose, Katsuki picks up one of the sticks and closes his other palm over the tip. A few seconds later Izuku can smell the scent of burning wood and watches in amazement as Katsuki pulls his hand away to reveal a small, flickering flame. It’s a bright, unnatural red and seems to move with a breeze that’s not actually there.

Izuku suddenly, acutely wishes he could feel whatever magic Katsuki is performing right now. He wants to know the heft and weave of the spell, pick out all the intricate pieces. And it is intricate, he’s sure of it just by watching Katsuki’s slow, careful movements, the concentration on his face as he draws sigils in the air with the stick and the smoke from the flame holds them long after normal smoke would disperse. Izuku wants to know exactly what emotions Katsuki’s pouring into his work.

But with his own magic dampened all Izuku gets is a vague impression. It’s enough to let him know, after a few minutes, that Katsuki is crafting wards. And he can feel that the magic itself is heated, alive almost. Because it’s born from fire maybe? But the details are lost and Izuku mourns the fact that he can’t reveal himself.

For hours he sits there and watches Katsuki work. It’s a flashy process, if a slow one. Flares and smoke and flames that stretch higher, bigger, hotter, the more energy Katsuki pours into them. He wards each of the three items in turn, using a new stick and a slightly different colored flame for each. Izuku wonders at their significance, and he itches for his long lost journals, the ones he’d had all his magical notes in.

But they’re still in his apartment.

The reminder of the warlock has Izuku shaking himself out of his fascinated daze. He gives one last look around the room, at Katsuki’s sweat dotted brow and the furrow etched into his forehead, then turns to leave.

The house is quiet and dark as he hops through it, and he realizes that outside the night has grown quiet too. The storm has moved on, and wind and rain no longer batter the windows. Something in Izuku relaxes at that, and no sooner has he wiggled his way under the couch again does he fall fast asleep.

Chapter Text

There’s bright sunlight streaming through the living room windows when Izuku awakens to the sound of absolutely obnoxious pounding on the front door. He blinks blearily, clearing the sleep from his eyes. Wriggling out from under the couch, he stretches like a cat, bending his back low and then arching it high to try and work out all the kinks from sleeping in such a confined space.

The knocking comes again, causing Izuku to jerk instinctively. Then he jerks again when a door slams somewhere in the house and loud, aggressive footsteps come pounding towards the living room. As quickly as Izuku had left his hiding place, he darts right back into it as Katsuki barrels into the room.

He’s dressed in the same sweats and tank top as the night before, though they’re mused now, and his hair is somehow even messier than it was yesterday. His gaze is murderous as he storms past the couch and flings the front door open.

“Somebody better be fucking dying,” he snarls.

Izuku shuffles around until he can see the man on the other side of the door. Not a witch, he doesn’t think, but he’s not intimidated by Katsuki at all judging by the huge smile on his face. His arms are full of shopping bags.

“Hey bro! I thought I’d drop by to help you out with your new furry roommate.”

Izuku is expecting more yelling, possibly more threats, but Katsuki just grunts. “It’s fucking eight am, asshole. Couldn’t you have waited?”

“Aw, but I was excited! I love rabbits, man. You gonna let me in?”

It occurs to Izuku right that second that the front door is open. And it’s about to close, because Katsuki steps out of the way to let his friend in. Seeing his chance, Izuku darts out from under the couch and straight for the opening between both sets of feet.

“Woah!” There’s the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, shuffling feet, Katsuki cursing loudly and creatively.

Large hands snatch Izuku up like he’s nothing before he can ever hit the threshold. He pants for a second, stunned and confused, before wriggling in the grasp.

“Hey, little buddy!” The man is peering at Izuku with bright, excited eyes as he pulls him closer. “Calm down, it’ll be okay.”

“Put him down!” Katsuki’s voice is behind him now, and Izuku turns to watch as he grabs the bags the other man had dropped and kicks the front door closed. “He’s obviously scared shitless, probably because of your ugly ass mug.”

The man laughs good-naturedly before gently placing Izuku back on the floor. Great, well that didn’t work. He glances between the two men, both of whom are staring back at him, before retreating quietly to his spot under the couch. He tries not to feel embarrassed about the botched escape and fails. How’s he going to get out of here? Katsuki will definitely be watching him now whenever the front door opens, if only because he thinks he’s found someone’s pet and doesn’t want to let it get loose again.

“This shit’s heavy,” Katsuki remarks, thunking the plastic bags down on his coffee table. “Jesus, did you buy the entire fucking pet store, Kirishima?”

“I just got him the essentials! Food, treats, some toys, a harness, more toys…” Kirishima drifts off with a sheepish smile and rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Okay, maybe I went a bit overboard.”

Already tearing into some of the bags, Katsuki just snorts. “Yeah, no shit.” He picks up an odd circular toy made of bright plastic and filled with wooden blocks. “What the fuck is this?”

“Oh, you put treats in it! Then he has to work to try and get them out again. Enrichment! Hey, have you named him?”

Tossing the toy back into the bag, Katsuki tsks loudly. “He probably has a name already, idiot.”

Kirishima glances at him, then down at Izuku’s hiding place. “Yeah, but you have to call him something, right?” After a second he moves towards the couch and crouches next to it, cheek smushed to the floor as he tries to see Izuku. “Hey, little guy!”

He’s seems like a really nice guy. Were the situation not what it was, Izuku thinks maybe they could be friends. So he doesn’t shy away when Kirishima sticks his hand under the couch and wriggles his fingers enticingly. But the situation is what it is, so he doesn’t come closer either.

“Hey, shitty hair, if you just came to drop this shit off then leave already,” Katsuki snaps. His foot connects soundly with Kirishima’s exposed ribs, knocking him onto his side. It makes Izuku’s eyes widen, but Kirishima just laughs, forgetting about Izuku as he climbs to his feet again.

“But I missed you, bro! I haven’t seen you since I dropped off those orders.”

Without a word, Katsuki pivots on his heel and stalks towards the hallway, disappearing around the corner. It doesn’t seem to be unusual for him, because Kirishima follows along still chattering loudly.

Izuku watches them go, curious and confused. They return a few minutes later, Kirishima carrying the items Katsuki warded the night before in a small box.

“Oh, by the way, the dad of that kid said the police are asking around for someone who can undo enchantments. Something related to an ongoing investigation I think. Do you want me to drop your name?”

Katsuki cocks his head to the side, looking strangely thoughtful. “You can try, but something tells me they’re not going to be too thrilled by the idea.”

He can undo enchantments? Unraveling magic is an even harder skill to master than weaving it in the first place. The more Izuku learns about Katsuki, the less he can help how impressed he is.

Kirshima just shrugs. “Worth a shot, right? I’ll text you their answer.”

Just as quickly as he’d swept into the house, Kirishima is gone again. Katsuki locks the door after him, shoulders loosening a little now that he’s alone. Mostly. Izuku takes that as his sign to wriggle out from under the couch again. The witch glances back at him before rolling his eyes.

“Trying to make an escape, huh?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor by the coffee table. “Stupid. The neighborhood dogs would eat you alive. You’re lucky I picked you up when I did.”

Izuku wants to argue that, because Katsuki himself is more dangerous than any dogs could ever be. But he feels grateful anyways. He hops closer as Katsuki starts opening the bags and rifling through the contents, setting things out on the table. When he sees Izuku approaching he opens a bag of treats, sets some on the floor, then adds a small plush toy too for good measure.

Izuku sniffs them curiously but turns up his nose at the treats. At his core he’s still someone who spends most of his time in human form. Literal rabbit food…yeah, not really something he’s into. The toy on the other hand is cute and inviting, a carrot that’s pastel pink for some reason, so he pulls it close and nibbles contently on the end of it.

“Treats no good?” Katsuki asks. He pulls out a few more toys, wrinkles his nose at them, then puts them back. He pauses when he gets to a neon red harness and leash, eyes Izuku silently, then puts that back too. Then he spends a few minutes setting out different treats and food trying to entice Izuku. But Izuku turns his nose up at each one. He can’t help his amusement as the furrow between Katsuki’s brows gets deeper and deeper before he finally throws his hands up in disgust.

“I know you’re fucking hungry, you haven’t eaten since last night you little shit!”

Izuku doesn’t even twitch, just keeps chewing on his new plush.

Katsuki snarls soundlessly before rolling his eyes. “Of-fucking-course you think you’re too good for regular rabbit food,” he huffs, but he doesn’t actually sound angry. “Useless ass Deku.”

What? Izuku pauses his chewing and tilts his head to the side just a touch, confused. But Katsuki isn’t paying attention anymore, is climbing to his feet and muttering something about breakfast. Maybe he took Kirishima’s words to heart about naming Izuku? This theory is confirmed when, over the course of the day Katsuki continues to call him Deku.

It’s not a bad name, even if it’s usually accompanied by teasing insults. Izuku tries not to let it warm him.

But despite all his efforts, it’s hard not to be completely charmed by Katsuki. He seems to have a short temper and spends more time than not looking like everything in the world is pissing him off. But he never acts rashly or aggressively. Instead he rants to Izuku whenever the rabbit follows him around, then to himself when he’s alone. He cooks, cleans, works out, and uses his evenings to perform hours upon hours of magic. From what Izuku can tell he operates some kind of business that Kirishima figureheads. Objects and requests are brought to him, and he wards or enchants them as needed. It’s completely mundane, and not how Izuku would have guessed Katsuki made his money at all.

After two days of this, Izuku can’t really help the warm, fluttering of his stomach. There’s no way Katsuki is like that warlock, not when he diligently prepares meals for Izuku since he refuses to eat pellets or treats. Not when he looks so surprised when Izuku butts his hand, asking for pets. And all the magic he seems to do is of the helpful, protective sort. Nothing like the warlock at all.

Izuku can’t reveal himself, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy this while it lasts. On the evening of the third day, when Katsuki sits down in his study to do his nightly work, Izuku hops straight into his lap.

Katsuki, poised to grab one of his wooden sticks, stares down at him in shock. Then he relaxes a moment later, one half of his mouth curling into a smirk. Strong, callused fingers find that perfect spot right behind Izuku’s ears and he can’t help his little shiver of pleasure.

“Just don’t fuck up my wards, okay Deku?” Katsuki murmurs. With a final scratch he gets back to work. This close Izuku can feel his magic better and he closes his eyes and lets the heat of it wash over him. It’s so terribly pleasant, so completely different from the cold, brutal magic of a verto warlock.

Verto affinities require the physical manipulation/destruction of objects in order to perform magic. It’s why compulsion comes so easily to them -twisting a mind into obedience is simply a progression of their abilities- and why they’re considered warlocks instead of witches.

There are certain sects of thought that think ignis affinities should be classified as warlocks too. But after watching Katsuki work, Izuku knows for sure that what he does is not black magic at all. It’s too pure, too protective in it’s spark. Izuku may not be able to read the weave of the spells, but he can feel, vaguely, their intent. Safety. Warmth. The ability to always be found when one is lost, to name a few. Katsuki takes on work for those who need, who search for, something to keep them and their loved ones unscathed in the tumult of day to day life.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until warm hands gently move him out of Katsuki’s laps, hours later. He blinks sleepily, taking in the dark bags under Katsuki’s eyes as he stands and cracks his joints loudly, stiff after sitting on the wooden floor for so long.

Izuku has the urge to follow Katsuki into his bedroom when he retires for the night. Katsuki is so obliging, so warm, he’d probably pick Izuku up and let him sleep in the bed too. But it feels like a breach of privacy, a step too far, so Izuku simply crawls back to his spot under the couch.

The next morning Izuku watches curiously as Katsuki breaks his normal routine. Izuku’s breakfast is slapped together quickly, and the witch only grabs a protein bar for himself before getting dressed, throwing on a jacket, and stuffing his feet in his shoes. Izuku watches him leave the house with some trepidation, unsure of where Katsuki is going or when he’ll be back.

This is the perfect chance for him to make his escape, right? He can shift back to human, steal some clothes, and be on his merry way.

But what if Katsuki comes back too soon? He’ll definitely be angry to find human Izuku wandering around his house, so Izuku should just wait, right? Wait for a better opportunity.

Izuku clings to that thought for several hours before he’s forced to admit to himself that it’s a shitty excuse.

He’s not avoiding leaving because he’s scared Katsuki will catch him in the act. He’s avoiding it because he doesn’t want to leave in the first place.

Izuku thumps a paw down on his carrot plush, staring it down. Why is he so stupid? Why can’t he just go? It’d be for the the best. He can’t spend his entire life pretending to be a pet rabbit just so Katsuki will keep him. Not to mention keeping his magic dampened all the time isn’t good for him. After just four days he’s already feeling exhausted by it.

But he wants to be kept by Katsuki. That’s the real problem here; he wants Katsuki to want him, wants Katsuki’s warm, scarred fingers scratching behind his ears, wants that soft, private smile directed at him. More than that, he wants to shift and show the witch who and what he really is, and then he wants Katsuki to pull him close and tell him it’s okay, that he’s not mad Izuku lied to him for so long.

But it’s all just a fairy tale. A wishful dream. Nobody else has wanted Izuku for who he is, so why should Katsuki?

Izuku heaves a sigh, furry chest trembling, then picks up his plush and carries it under the couch with him. He can already tell he won’t be able to convince himself to leave. Not today. Maybe another chance will present itself in the next couple of days, and the exhaustion from keeping his magic secret will push him into making the decision then.

But for now, Izuku curls up and takes a nap. There’s not much in the way of entertainment for a bunny when Katsuki isn’t here, even with all the toys Kirishima brought over.

The light streaming into the living room has started to shift from gold to orange as dusk settles in before Izuku finally hears the front door being unlocked. Excited, he wriggles out from under the couch.

But it’s Kirishima who pushes the front door open, his face pale and tense. Katsuki is slumped over his back, Kirishima’s hands on his legs as he stumbles into the house.

Fear lances through Izuku and he nervously shifts from foot to foot. What happened? Is the witch okay? He doesn’t look hurt but it’s hard to tell when he’s draped over Kirishima like that.

With a grunt Kirishima manages to close the front door behind him, then wobbles the few steps to the couch. His eyes fall on Izuku, and as if sensing his worry, offers a quick, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, like he’s afraid of waking the blonde up. “He just exhausted himself is all. He’ll be fine after he gets some rest.”

Izuku backs away to give the man room as he not so carefully dumps Katsuki on the couch. It’s inelegant as hell, Katsuki’s limbs everywhere and his neck at an awkward angle but he doesn’t even twitch. Kirishima goes about making sure he’s comfortable, stuffing a pillow under his head and laying his arms close to his body so they’re not hanging off the couch, and Izuku watches on in quiet concern.

“There,” Kirishima declares once he’s satisfied. “All comfy.” He glances down at Izuku and smiles again. “Keep him company, okay? He’s gonna feel like shit tomorrow ‘cause he drained himself dry. Oh, I should probably feed you while I’m here, huh?”

The man wanders off to find Izuku’s food, but Izuku doesn’t follow. Instead he does his level best to hop up onto the couch with Katsuki. But his form is too small, the couch cushions just a breath too high, and his front legs aren’t quite strong enough to pull the rest of him up.

Kirishima comes back a minute later with Izuku’s bowl full of pellets. When he sees the rabbit trying and failing to get to Katsuki he laughs quietly and sets the bowl aside.

“Here,” he says, and gently helps Izuku up onto the couch. Izuku butts his hand in thanks and Kirishima scratches under his chin. “There. He’ll be happy to see you when he wakes up. I know he’s kind of an asshole but he really likes you, you know?”

Izuku blinks at him, flushing with warmth over the words despite himself. With one last pet, Kirishima leaves, locking the front door behind him and leaving Izuku alone with the unconscious witch.

An unconscious witch who isn’t moving in his sleep, who is barely even breathing. His face looks pale and clammy, and when Izuku presses his nose to his cheek he feels far too cool. The classic symptoms of a witch who drained himself while doing too magic. When he wakes up he’ll be exhausted and sore all over, and without anything to replenish himself he won’t be able to do magic for a while.

What did he go out and do today? Does it have anything to do with undoing enchantments like Kirishima had mentioned a few days ago? Izuku’s helped a few witches do that kind of work before, and it had required so much magic that it had made even him tired. If Katsuki did it alone he must be really strong.

Izuku thumps one of his back feet nervously against the couch. If he was physically capable he’d be chewing on his lower lip in thought right now.

If he shares some of his magic, Katsuki won’t be so exhausted tomorrow. He’ll recover faster. But will said quick recovery spark suspicion? He’s not a stupid man, he’ll probably realize that something is up if he doesn’t feel drained at all when he wakes up.

So Izuku will share just a little bit. Just enough to help Katsuki out, ease some of his suffering.

It feels amazingly good to finally release his magic after keeping it suppressed for too long. Izuku shudders with the sensation, the warmth and familiarity of it as it washes over him.

His shift hits him before he realizes what’s happening.

Holding one form for several days at a time isn’t something Izuku usually does. In fact, he usually shifts at least several times a day, because he can, because he likes to, and because it feels good and right to use his magic that way.

Izuku gasps and shudders through the shift, human fingers coming up to touch his head. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, Katsuki’s face inches away from his bare hip. With a small squeak he jumps up, then stumbles, knees weak. The sudden height is putting him off balance, as is having two legs again.

His body hums with sensitivity as it always does right after a shift. Something about the magic coursing through him, changing him, just makes all his nerve endings light up at once. He doesn’t even like to wear clothes right after shifting to human because the fabric is always too rough, painful.

He shivers, skin pebbling in the cool air. Without fur the house is much chillier than he’s used to, probably because Katsuki seems to run so hot.

Fuck, okay, so he hadn’t meant to do that. Obviously. He’d just wanted to share a little bit of his magic. But it’s not like Katsuki is going to wake up any time soon, so this is fine, right? He might actually be able to help even more like this.

Just as soon as the sensitivity fades.

It feels weird padding around Katsuki’s home completely naked. Not like Izuku had been wearing clothes before, but at least as a rabbit he’d had fur to cover his modesty. And also internal genitalia. Suddenly having his dick hanging freely between his thighs when before it had been nice and tucked up inside his body is always a super weird sensation.

While he waits for the sensitivity to fade, Izuku raids the kitchen. He doesn’t eat much because, again, Katsuki isn’t stupid and he’s going to notice if a bunch of food goes missing. But he nibbles on some crackers and steals a homemade cookie.

When his body has finally calmed down he creeps into Katsuki’s bedroom, feeling even weirder for being there. It’s a relatively small, dark room, with curtains draw tight over the windows and a huge bed dominating most of the space. It’s tidy and clean like the rest of the house, devoid of clutter, though the comforter is messy. Izuku ignores the sudden, strong urge to crawl into that bed and roll around in the sheets, and instead rifles guiltily through Katsuki’s dresser until he comes up with a pair of pajama pants. They’re too big but he knots the string tight around his hips and calls it good.

Back in the living room, Katsuki still hasn’t budged an inch. Izuku would worry he was actually dead if his chest wasn’t barely rising and falling.

Katsuki turns out to be a lot fucking heavier than Izuku was expecting, mostly because he’s complete deadweight. Izuku struggles to figure out how to pick up his stout, dense form, before giving in and grabbing him up bridal style. It leaves Katsuki’s head lolling at an awkward angle that makes Izuku wince, but they’re only going to the bedroom so it should be fine, right?

Much like Kirishima, Izuku stumbles under the witch’s weight. He almost regrets his decision to move him, but his bed has to be way more comfortable than the couch right? And better on a tired, exhausted body as well. So it may be undignified as all hell, but he manages to get Katsuki into bed and then goes about getting him as comfortable as possible. This involves taking his shoes and socks off, followed by his jeans (nobody likes to sleep in jeans is how Izuku rationalizes that one to himself). Hopefully he’ll think Kirishima did all this, or that he himself did but was too exhausted to remember any of it.

Once Katsukis is all tucked in, literally, Izuku kneels next to him on the mattress. It still feels weird touching Katsuki like this, skin to skin, after being furry for so long. Izuku shivers, still a little sensitive, as he slides his fingers along Katsuki’s jaw and gently cups his face. The shape-shifter closes his eyes and focuses on his magic. It responds eagerly, too long ignored, and surges easily under his command. Carefully he directs it towards Katsuki, feeding it to the witch in small, controlled bursts. Slowly the skin under his starts to warm, and then a moment later Katsuki groans.

Izuku’s eyes snap open and he jerks his hand away. There’s a healthy flush to Katsuki’s cheeks now and his breathing is heavier and easier. His mouth open unconsciously and then he rolls over in his sleep, snuggling down into his pillow. It’s adorable and Izuku’s breath catches in his throat at the intimate sight. It’s followed immediately by more guilt.

This is wrong. As much as he’s telling himself that he’s just helping, he’s still taking advantage of the situation and Katsuki’s unconsciousness.

If Izuku were a better person he’d leave right now. Just walk right out the door.

But he’s not that good of a person, and he needs to know Katsuki is going to be okay. So instead he tidies up the already tidy house and then shifts back to his rabbit form, preparing to wait out Katsuki’s drain induced exhaustion.

Chapter Text

If Katsuki notices anything weird about waking up in his bed, not half as sore or tired as he should be, he doesn’t mention it. He’s groggy and stumbles out of his bedroom late into the afternoon, and then apologizes for not having fed Deku dinner or breakfast. Izuku just follows him anxiously, nudging his ankle when he seems to blank out while staring into his fridge.

The witch blinks dumbly and glances down at him. Then he offers this little half smile, rumbling a deep, sleep heavy, “Sorry,” and it just about makes Izuku’s poor heart hammer out of his chest. This is too much love for one tiny, furry body he decides, and promptly goes to hide under the kitchen table to calm down.

Katsuki dutifully makes them breakfast and the food seems to restore him a bit. Enough that his feet don’t drag against the hardwood and his eyes open beyond an exhausted half-mast. He collapses onto the couch afterwards, remote in hand, and Izuku is excited at the prospect of getting to sit in his lap and get pet for the next few hours.

But Katsuki’s phone rings before he can ever turn the T.V. on.

He answers it with a grunt and Izuku cocks his head to the side as Katsuki’s features twist into distaste.

“Another one?” he asks then huffs. “Yeah, okay. You’re driving so be here in ten.” For a moment he’s silent, listening to whoever is on the other end before rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’m fine, asshole, just come fucking get me okay?” With that he hangs up and throws his head back against the couch.

Izuku has a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about whatever this is, and it only gets worse as Katsuki gets up and starts getting ready to go out. By the time he’s grabbing his keys and stuffing his feet into shoes Izuku is practically vibrating from anxiety. Where is he going? What is he doing? He hasn’t even rested properly yet! There’s no way his magic is completely restored either, even with the little boost Izuku gave him.

When there’s a honk outside and Katsuki heads for the door, Izuku panics. He runs underneath Katsuki’s feet, making the witch stumble and curse, and then runs a couple circles around him.

“What the fuck? Get out of the way, Deku.” Katsuki reaches for the door and and Izuku jumps, thumping all four feet against the wood and bouncing off of it. He runs a few more circles, trying to make sure he has all of Katsuki’s attention, and then sits directly at his feet and stares up at him.

Red, red eyes regard him warily. The witch’s lips are pulled into that familiar frown, brow furrowed.

Don’t go, Izuku pleads internally. It’s not safe, you’re not healed yet!

Katsuki clicks his tongue and heads for the kitchen, coming back a moment later with something bright red in his hands. The harness.

“You want to go?” he asks, holding it up. Which…it wasn’t what Izuku had in mind but it’s better than nothing, right? If he tags along he can keep an eye on Katsuki and even feed him some power if he tries to perform any magic. So Izuku bounds over to him and sits still while capable fingers slide the nylon into place and make sure it’s snug.

It’s such a different feeling from when he was collared. The warlock’s fingers had been cool, almost harsh, and the collar itself an unforgiving metal that never seemed to warm no matter how long he’d worn it. The weight of it had been suffocating, and no matter how he shifted his form it always shifted too, matching him in size.

But the harness is soft and comfortable, snug but not overbearing. The nylon doesn’t rub harshly at his fur, nor does it chafe against his skin, and when Katsuki stands and gives an experimental tug on the leash not even that hurts. Izuku hops towards him obediently, and Katsuki seems satisfied.

“I guess even rabbits get stir crazy, huh?” he asks, and bends down to scoop Izuku up. In turn Izuku snuggles in close to his chest, pleased. This is new territory for them and he can’t help but be a little excited as they leave the house together.

Kirishima is waiting in a nondescript black car outside the house, fiddling around on his phone. He glances up when Katsuki climbs into the passenger seat, and then double takes when he sees Izuku.

“Aw, bro!” he says, and immediately reaches across the center console to scratch Izuku under the chin. Izuku leans into it, always happy to be pet. “Look at you, you’ve really bonded with him! That’s adorable man.”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki grunts in reply, and slaps Kirishima’s hand away. “Step on it, if that shit is active there’s no telling what kind of damage it’s doing.”

Kirishima pouts for a second, rubbing at his hand, but breaks into another grin a second later. “Don’t worry, the chief said it was just running in circles, not really doing any harm.”

Izuku ponders the brief exchange as they drive through the city, curious about where they’re going and what they’re doing. He watches buildings pass through the windows but stays cuddled up against Katsuki’s chest. The witch seems pretty distracted too, not to mention still exhausted, but he occasionally runs his fingers through Izuku’s fur so Izuku isn’t complaining.

They pull up outside what looks like a small park maybe ten minutes later. There’s a thin patch of trees, a jogging path, and a man made pond with sprinklers. On the bank opposite them he can spot a swing set and jungle gym, but there are no children playing. Several cop cars are blocking off the parking lot, but one of them moves to let Kirishima through.

Katsuki throws the door open before the vehicle is even in park, but despite his vehemence he still takes the time to set Izuku carefully down on the ground.

A stout man in uniform approaches them and Katsuki addresses as chief. He looks wary of Katsuki, and slightly confused by Izuku’s presence but doesn’t comment.

“This one’s moving,” he says gruffly, and points towards the trees where yellow police tape has marked out a small perimeter. “And we think the magic might be stronger than the last one. You got any idea what the hell they’re supposed to do? Besides be a nuisance.”

“Like I said last time, the magic wasn’t complete enough for me to figure out a purpose,” Katsuki snaps. It doesn’t seem to phase the chief and his already negative opinion of the witch.

“Whatever. Just go stop the damn thing.”

Kirishima joins them as they start for the trees. Izuku does his best to keep pace but finds himself falling a few steps behind the two men. Without breaking stride Katsuki somehow manages to reach back and snatch him up, and then promptly zips Izuku up in his jacket. Izuku’s back is to the witch’s chest, his back feet and bottom supported by the jacket, his front paws resting on the v of the zipper. It’s surprisingly comfortable. When Kirishima side eyes them Katsuki snarls. “What? I need my hands free and I don’t want him under my feet.”

The other man just shrugs, but his mouth is curled up into a knowing smile.

If Izuku could smile he would be. Instead he wriggles a little, getting even more comfortable, and resists the urge to tip his head back and stare adoringly up at Katsuki.

But then he feels it. Cold. Manipulative. Like metal closing tight around his neck.

Izuku’s head jerks, eyes widening as they draw close to the tree line and the flapping police tape. The magic sitting heavy and greasy in the air is so familiar it makes him want to puke. His heart is already racing, and the closer they get the stronger the magic becomes until he feels like he’s choking on it.

Katsuki must feel something of Izuku’s discomfort because he pats idly at his head, but even the affectionate touch isn’t enough to keep him from feeling sick.

“It’s there, in the grass,” an officer is saying, and holds up the tape so that Katsuki can duck awkwardly under it, one arm coming up to support Izuku’s extra weight. Kirishima keeps pace with him, asking something that Izuku misses entirely.

He’s caught sight of something metallic in the grass and he can’t take his eyes off it. Every single cell in his body is screaming at him to run away and run away now.

It’s shaped like a hand. The metal itself is dull, almost black, but still manages to catch the weak light of the sun behind the clouds. He always was fond of manipulating metal.

Like something out of a horror movie it scuttles around on its little fingers, magic pouring off it in waves. It doesn’t seem to have a purpose or a direction though, and the magic feels undefined. Like it’s starting to unravel. It seems hastily made, sloppily too. Like someone who is used to having a deep well of power to pull from, but has now found himself with a highly limited supply.

“Verto warlock,” Katsuki hisses, taking a step closer. “The magic was too indistinct before-” Another step, the crinkle of grass being crushed under foot, and that alone seems to be the catalyst. The hand freezes for a brief second before absolutely launching itself towards them, the magic pouring off it even stronger now.

“What the-” Kirishima’s voice is loud, startled, and Katsuki snarls as he jumps back, his hands coming up defensively. Small flames spark in his palms and his voice is low and quiet as he mutters the words of a spell right next to Izuku’s ear.

The hand is too small to be much more than a physical nuisance, grasping at Katsuki’s shoes and pants before he inevitably kicks it away again, but it’s spilling dangerous magic. Compulsion magic. Izuku can feel it crawling along his skin, trying to take root in him.

Is this…is it meant for him?

As soon as the thought hits him he realizes the truth of it. The compulsion being pushed on him is a simple one: shift. But it doesn’t want him to shift back to human, it’s designed to compel him to shift into an animal form. Something small. Something easy to grab onto and hold tight. The hand design suddenly makes more sense.

Izuku is certain that if he focused he’d be able to feel more magic under the compulsion. Some kind of tracking spell, or a flare that’s supposed to go off when the hand finds its target. When it finds Izuku. It’s designed to track him down, force him to shift into something small, then grab and hold him while the warlock comes to collect.

Fear is thick in Izuku’s throat and he finds himself struggling against the confines of Katsuki’s jacket, panicking. Katsuki curses, trying to both fend off the magic from the hand and control Izuku’s squirming before he finally gives up and just unzips the jacket.

Izuku falls unceremoniously to the ground. At first he’s just glad to not feel like he’s trapped anymore. But then the hand is on him, grabbing at the nape of his neck and pressing magic hot and uncomfortable against his skin. He flails, struggling under the weight of the metal as he tries to run away. But no matter which way he darts, paws skidding in the grass and dirt, the hand just grips tighter. The fingers are cruel, ripping out chunks of fur and scratching at his skin. The magic is making him feel heavy, makes him want to flop down and admit defeat but the pounding of his heart keeps him going.

In his panic he’s aware enough not to let himself get caught under any feet but beyond some vaguely perceived shouting he has no idea what Katsuki or Kirishima are doing. Until he’s roughly snatched up by warm, familiar hands. Magic rushes over him, hot and fiery but instantly calming. His entire body relaxes at once, legs dangling limply in the air and chest heaving with panted breaths. His head sags and he only winces slightly as Katsuki’s magic continues to get hotter and hotter around him.

Abruptly he realizes that the witch is trying to break the enchantment on the metal hand, the fingers of which are still tight in Izuku’s fur. But Katsuki’s reserves are low, and his magic is already starting to falter. Without hesitation Izuku releases some of his own magic and shoves it at the witch. He can feel the instant Katsuki taps into him, the moment he instinctively starts to draw from the well within Izuku. It’s an intimate connection because Izuku can feel Katsuki in a way he hadn’t been able to before, can feel the tiny details of his magic as he gracefully but brutally picks apart the hand’s enchantment. It leaves Izuku gasping for air even more than before.

Thankfully Katsuki works quickly though, and soon the fingers on the hand are twitching, loosing their grip, before it lets go entirely. It falls and curls up on itself in the grass like an insect in its death throws.

Instantly Izuku slams a barrier back down on his magic, cutting Katsuki off and shielding himself once more.

When he glances up at the witch Katsuki’s expression is completely unreadable. He’s also panting, his face grey and sweaty from exertion, shoulders trembling ever so faintly. Even with Izuku’s help trying to unravel magic so soon after draining himself has taken its toll.

But did he notice, in the heat of the moment? There’s no way he didn’t. That red gaze is too sharp, too intent on Izuku’s for him to not have figured it out. But before Izuku can figure it out one way or the other, Kirishima comes running looking frazzled and breathless himself.

“Woah, dude! What the fuck was that? Why did that thing attack poor Deku?”

For a moment Katsuki’s gaze doesn’t leave Izuku’s, even as his head angles towards his friend. The lasting eye contact makes Izuku’s heart pound and his pulse quicken, but eventually Katsuki looks away.

“Dunno,” he says simply, then pulls Izuku close to his chest and cradles the shape shifter there.

Izuku is too shocked to do much except be carried along for the ride. His neck hurts something terrible and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding, but he’s more focused on the police chief who rushes up and starts shouting at Katsuki. Something about bringing a rabbit to a police investigation and how he refuses to be responsible for any injuries, reckless use of magic, and fire hazards. Katsuki just shouts right back at him, then when that doesn’t work, picks up the metal hand and chunks it at the officer.

“I did my fucking job, didn’t I!? Hop off my fucking dick already!”

“You’re just as reckless and unpredictable as all the rumors say,” the chief returns sharply. He hadn’t even flinched at having the hand thrown at him. “We won’t be needing your assistance anymore pyre witch.”

Katsuki snarls back at him, “You won’t be saying that the next time one of these fucking things turns up. But whatever, asshole, have it your way.”

Its only as Katsuki’s stalking away that Izuku catches sight of burnt grass and a tree that looks charred, still smoking slightly. He blinks dumbly at the carnage. Did Katsuki really do all that?

The witch bundles Izuku into the car, Kirishima sliding into the driver’s seat a breath later.

“I told you this was a shitty idea,” Katsuki snarls, but Izuku can tell that there’s no heat towards his friend behind the words.

The drive home is tense, verging on uncomfortable. At one point Kirishima tries to ask about Izuku’s injuries but Katsuki snaps at him to shut the fuck up.

Home isn’t much better. Katsuki’s movements are jerky and stiff, anger radiating even through all his exhaustion. He treats Izuku’s wounds but he’s rough about it, even if he offers a gruff apology every time Izuku winces.

Does he know?

Has he figured out what Izuku is, and is now angry about it? Resentful of the fact that he has to take care of Izuku, has been taking care of him for a while now?

Or maybe he’s just angry about what happened with the police chief. It can’t be easy trying to help people only for them to get pissed and call you slurs.

Pyre witch.

Because witches with the ignis affinities kill the ones around them, sending them to be burned at the pyre. Or so the tale goes.

It makes sense that Katsuki has Kirishima fore-fronting his business. Judging by the rumors that circulate, most people think of the witch in the same way the chief does. Dangerous. A threat. What good he does is simply outweighed by the bad.

Izuku doesn’t believe that for one second. Katsuki is good. He’s helpful and kind in his own way, even if he’s a generally brusque and angry individual. The kind of person who pulls a filthy, sopping wet rabbit out from under his car, bundles it up, and takes it home to give it a bath and a home cooked meal.

Which is why Izuku has to leave.

Regardless of if Katsuki has figured him out or not, Izuku can’t stick around anymore. Not when he knows for sure that the warlock is after him. Katsuki has drained himself twice now on Izuku’s behalf. Who knows what trouble will befall him next if Izuku sticks around.

No, Izuku will leave, and he’ll draw the warlock’s attention when he does it. Then Katsuki won’t be in harms way anymore.

Katsuki retires to bed early, clearly worn out. For several hours Izuku bides his time, making sure the witch is fast asleep before finally kicking into action.

He feels a bit guilty as he noses open the bedroom door, but he can’t just leave the house naked. When he’d brought Katsuki to bed the other day he’d noticed a small pile of clothing on the closet floor. T-shirts and a couple pairs of jeans that looked like they probably wouldn’t fit Katsuki. Digging around in Katsuki’s closet while naked would be too weird, so he drags a few pieces of clothing out to the living room in his rabbit form.

Once he has an outfit assembled he shifts and immediately regrets it as the wounds on the back of his neck shift with him. They prickle with pain but it doesn’t feel like they reopened.

With a wince he grabs up the clothes, and winces again at his shift induced sensitivity. The roughness of the fabric brings tears to his eyes. He should really wait until it fades before he tries to go anymore or do anything, but he doesn’t want to risk being caught hanging around in Katsuki’s home naked. Izuku sniffles quietly, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand. The clothes, and the jeans especially, feel like having sandpaper pricked through with needles dragged across his skin and it’s horrible. But he’ll deal.

There’s nothing really to be done about shoes. He and Katsuki don’t wear the same size. So barefoot he pads towards the front door, the tears on his cheeks for more than just his physical discomfort. This house has been a haven for him and leaving fills him with a sense of despair.

His hand is on the doorknob when he hears it, a soft voice from right behind him.

“What the fuck.”

Chapter Text

“What the fuck.”

Izuku’s heart leaps into his throat and his blood turns to ice in his veins. But his instincts kick in and, despite not consciously deciding to, his body moves of its own accord. He rips the front door open, already over the threshold before he can process the feeling of cool night air on his skin.

“Hold on-” Katsuki’s voice is loud, angry, and Izuku panics further. He doesn’t want to face the witch’s wrath, doesn’t want to know if Katsuki hates him now.

So he shifts.

Every tentative plan he’d had about his future falls to pieces around him as he takes his new form.The stolen clothes pool around him but he leaps from their confines and lands on paws already running.

“Izuku!”

Izuku pauses in the front yard and glances over his shoulder. He was smarter this time, choosing a form easier to hide in the vast city. A cat isn’t going to stand out nearly as much as a rabbit.

Katsuki is standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame. Even in the dark his eyes are blazing pinpricks of light, skewering Izuku straight through the heart. The witch opens his mouth but Izuku bolts across the grass before he can hear whatever’s going to fall from those beautiful, vicious lips.

A block away and he already misses the warmth and protection of Katsuki’s wards. Two blocks and the ache in his chest is stronger than ever. At three he has to sit down on the concrete and let himself grieve for a second, too overwhelmed with all he’s leaving behind.

Izuku only allows himself a few minutes to wallow in self-pity though. He has no idea how many of those hand traps are wandering around the city and he really doesn’t want to be found by one. He needs a plan and he needs one fast.

The first step is easy enough he supposes. He needs to get all the way across the city and then release his magic, which he’s had tamped down since he shifted. If the warlock is still looking for him that should alert him to Izuku’s location. Hopefully whatever hand traps he has laying around will then converge, thus keeping them away from Katsuki’s part of town.

But after that? Well, Izuku isn’t quite sure. It’s not like he can face off against the warlock alone. But where does he go?

Since he’s in an animal form and shifting would leave him naked, his options are limited. There’s a chance he might be able to find some clothes being thrown out but the longer he’s on the streets the more likely it is that’ he’ll be found, especially after trying to draw the warlock’s attention in the first place. So he’d rather not.

The only other option is to try and find someone to help him. Someone who already knows him and who won’t be surprised when he shifts. He can borrow some clothes, maybe some money, and be on the first bus out of town before noon.

But who?

He’d spent so long wavering about leaving Katsuki’s place because there’s just no one he really trusts in the city. Well, that’s what it had started as. By the end he hadn’t wanted to leave for entirely different reasons. But the point remains that of the many witches and warlocks Izuku knows, he doesn’t implicitly trust any of them.

There are a few who he doesn’t mind though, who he might be willing to trust in just this once, and of those he only remembers where two or three live. One of them will have to do.

Dawn is starting to break across the sky when Izuku finally manages to put enough distance between himself and Katsuki. Is this a good plan? Probably not. More than likely, because of his fight with the police chief, Katsuki wouldn’t have been asked to deal with the hands anymore. And maybe the warlock only made two of the traps in the first place.

Regardless, Izuku’s going to go through with it anyways.

Anything to keep Katsuki safe, no matter how ridiculous, is worth doing.

So Izuku trots through the business section of the city, tall skyscrapers rising all around him, and finally releases his magic once more. There are only a few people out and about yet, early commuters on their way to work, and they pay the small cat no mind, unable to feel his magic. Through the gaps between buildings Izuku can see the sky turning a soft shade of purple, then blue, tinged with a deep orange as the sun fully begins to rise.

For over an hour he shambles through the city, concrete rough under his paws. The odd magic user glances at him as he passes, but urban life stops for no man, not even a shape shifter running around as a cat.

Once he feels like the warlock has had plenty of time to sense him, Izuku cuts off his magic again and turns his paws towards the next part of his plan. He picks the witch who lives the closest to his current location. It’s not too far, still highly urban, a series of ugly, square apartments just a few blocks from downtown. He’s been a few times, this particular witch being friendly enough that Izuku had been drawn in more than once.

It’s a little difficult to navigate the apartment building and get up to the fifth floor as a cat but Izuku manages. Then he faces another problem. He can’t shift until he’s inside Toga’s wards because he’d have to release his magic to do so. Running around the business district had been okay because he was moving, but he’s probably going to be in Toga’s apartment for a bit, thus making himself an easy target.

But if he doesn’t shift, how is he going to get her to open the door?

He can try clawing at it and meowing maybe, or yowling as loudly as he can? But he doesn’t want to get the neighbors’ attention too.

Luck must be smiling upon him though, because Toga opens her front door before Izuku can make up his mind about anything. She has a bag slung over her shoulder, blonde hair tucked messily up into a ponytail.

She pauses when she sees him, obviously confused as to why a cat is sitting in the fifth floor hallway of her apartment complex, and Izuku uses that to his advantage. As quickly as he can, he darts past her legs and into her home, shivering as her wards pass over his fur.

Toga is a cruor witch, and as such her affinity is blood. All of her rituals and magic depend on it, either her own or someone else’s, and because of that her magic tends to feel heavy and metallic. It had been a little off putting for Izuku at first, but she’s excitable and kind of fun to be around even if she’s overly enthusiastic in her interest in him.

One of the main reasons he’s willing to trust her is the sex. He’s worked with her a handful of times now, and each time she’s taken his interests into account. It’s pretty common knowledge that Izuku puts out whenever he goes home with a witch or a warlock; it’s simply part of his MO at this point. The problem is that he’s gay. Like, really fucking gay. That doesn’t seem to stop the women though, and he’s had more straight sex than he likes to admit. He doesn’t enjoy it, but he’s also slightly incapable of saying no.

Toga insists on it still, like most of the women. But she also doesn’t make him fuck her and instead wears a strap-on to fuck him with. She even lets him bury his face in a pillow so he doesn’t have to see her face or bouncing tits. The sounds she makes are still a turn off, but being fucked is usually enough to do the trick, even if his orgasm isn’t spectacular.

So Izuku trusts her, just a little, and he doesn’t hesitate to release his magic again and shift in the middle of her living room. Her wards are nowhere near as strong as Katsuki’s but they should still be enough to hide him. Most witches and warlocks ward their homes, just out of pure paranoia. When you know what other magic users are capable of, you tend to want to try and protect yourself in any way you can, even if you’re not directly being threatened.

Toga squeals the moment she realizes what’s happening. “Zuzu!”

Her arms come around him the moment he’s human and he yelps in pain as her clothing and skin spark pain all along his front.

“Toga,” he greets, carefully unwinding her arms from around his neck with a wince. “It’s good to see you. You weren’t about to leave, were you?”

Thankfully she backs off, head cocking to the side. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I missed you! Nobody’s heard from you in months, I was so worried about my little shifter!”

So people did notice Izuku’s absence during the time he was imprisoned. He’s not sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, they noticed. On the other, they didn’t do anything about it.

Izuku settles on neutrality for now. “Hah, yeah,” he offers weakly, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his head and then wincing again because even his hair feels too rough against his fingers. “Look, about that…I’m actually in a bit of trouble. Can you help me?”

Toga is already setting her bag aside and shutting the front door, which Izuku hadn’t even noticed was still open. Oops.

“Sure!” the witch chirps, and grabs Izuku’s hand to guide him towards her kitchen table. “Sit! I’ll make you something to eat and you tell me what you need, okay Zuzu?”

Her skin feels like sandpaper against his own, and the wooden chair is uncomfortably hard when he perches on the edge of it. He’s not hungry either, stomach too churned up in knots. Ah well, he can’t exactly turn down her hospitality when she’s going to be helping him.

“Okay, Toga.”

He sits quietly as she patters around the kitchen humming to herself and throwing together a quick meal. Finally she slides a plate towards him with a sandwich on it and takes the seat next to him. She props her head on her hands, grinning a big, toothy smile. “So, watcha’ need?”

Feeling compelled to, Izuku picks at the sandwich a little, avoiding her gaze. “Um, well. I’m kind of running from someone? He’s the reason I vanished for a while there. And I need clothes and a way to get out of town.”

Toga hums thoughtfully, tapping at her cheek. “Well, I only wear women’s clothes, and we’re not exactly the same size so I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you there. Maybe some of my pyjamas?”

Oh. Izuku suddenly feels like an idiot for not thinking of that sooner. Of course he can’t wear her clothes.

“I also don’t have a car. But! I think I know someone who can help with both of those things! Here, I’ll text him.”

Thank god. The shape shifter breathes out slowly in relief. He wasn’t sure how well this plan would work, but pieces seem to be falling into place. Anxiety is still coursing through him, keeping him as on edge as his physical sensitivity is. But he doubts that will fade until long after he’s out of the city.

Toga wanders off with her phone in hand and Izuku continues to pick morosely at his sandwich, not really eating any of it so much as tearing it apart.

This city has been his home for so long that the thought of leaving is difficult to fathom.

But more than that, the thought of leaving Katsuki behind is even worse. He’s known the witch for such a short period of time but the ache in his chest is all-consuming when he thinks about never seeing him again. Katsuki will never make him another home cooked meal, will never scratch behind his ears, or let Izuku sit in his lap while he performs magic. Izuku will never get to see his sleepy expressions, or his scowl, or the way his lips tilt up into a smile when he thinks nobody else can see him.

A sob rises up unbidden from Izuku’s chest and he clamps his hand over his mouth to stifle it. Not a moment too soon, as Toga comes back into the room bouncing on her toes.

“Here!” she says, passing him a few garments of clothing. “These might fit you after all. Of course, you don’t have to wear them. Having you lounging around my apartment naked is pretty awesome. We can even have some fun while we wait for my friend if you want.”

“Aha,” Izuku fake laughs, pushing his sorrow down resolutely and blinking away his tears. “Um, no thanks.” He’s not sure he’ll ever be in the mood for sex again when he feels like falling to pieces over Katsuki. Though, maybe a good fuck might distract him? No. He’s got more important things to worry about right now, and the longer he stays in one place the more danger he’s in.

The clothes turn out to be an overly large t-shirt, probably used for sleeping, and a pair of bright pink sweatpants with a drawstring. The shirt is too big and the pants too small, even with the drawstring, and of course they hurt like hell to put on when he’s still sensitive from his shift. But he’s grateful nonetheless, to have at least this much. Maybe he can borrow some slippers or something too before he leaves.

For the next hour Toga makes awkward passes at him that Izuku deflects, and they sit around her place doing nothing in particular until she turns on the T.V. Izuku barely sees or hears any of it, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Where will he go after this? Travelling the country does sound kind of nice, but it’s not like he has any money for it. Maybe he can do what he’s always done though, and hop from witch to warlock, using his body and his magic as barter. The idea makes him sick to his stomach though, just like the thought of sleeping with Toga again.

How can he possibly go back to sleeping around when he’s in love with someone else?

He jerks out of his thoughts when Toga slaps him on the shoulder to get his attention. His sensitivity has worn off, thank god, so it doesn’t actually hurt.

“Here, put these on!” she tells him, and drops a pair of raggedy sneakers into his lap. They actually look about the right size and are obviously meant for men. Where did she even get them? Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“He’s waiting down in the parking lot for us, come on!” As soon as he’s slipped the shoes on, Toga is taking his arm and pulling him excitedly towards the door. He takes a second to pause and push down his magic to hide it again, and then she’s whisking him out into the hallway, practically skipping in her excitement. Who is this guy they’re meeting? A crush maybe? Obviously it’s someone she likes a lot.

“This is going to be so great, just you see!” she tells him with a giggle. “Everything is going to be perfect!”

Izuku stares at her, confused. There’s something in his gut, something deep down that says not everything here is as it should be.

But that’s just the anxiety talking, right? He’s heartbroken and on the run, of course nothing feels right.

He realizes his mistake the second they exit the complex, spilling out into the parking lot. Overhead the sky has gone from the pale blue of early morning to a dull, lifeless grey. He can’t even tell where the sun sits because the clouds are too dense, dispersing weak light in every direction.

But he’s not focused on that, or the city bustling with life just beyond the parking lot, the sound of cars and the heavy scent of concrete and impending rain in the air.

No, because there’s a sleek black car parked right next to the complex, oh so familiar. And who should have his hip propped against it, arms crossed over his chest, except the warlock.

Izuku freezes, his heart practically stopping in his chest. But Toga’s grip on his arm is like iron and she tugs him forward anyways. “C’mon, Zuzu!”

When he plants his feet, a quiet, “No,” falling from his lips she finally turns to him with a pout.

“You didn’t just think we’d let you run off, did you?”

His gaze flickers to her, surprised. She was in league with him? For how long? The warlock had never mentioned her before, during those eight months Izuku spent with him.

Toga pinches his cheek hard enough to make his eyes water. “Aw, stupid little shape shifter! It’s okay, we’ll take care of you. Right Shigaraki?”

The warlock pushes off his car, closing the distance between them with his loose, easy gait. His chapped lips are pulled back into a smile, sunken eyes just barley visible underneath messy hair. Metal glints in the weak sunlight as Shigaraki holds up that hated, hated collar. The one Izuku had worked so hard to break free of. The sight alone makes him sick to his stomach, the sound of Shigaraki’s voice even more so.

“So good to see you again, Izuku. Be a good boy and come along nicely, won’t you?”

Izuku’s knees hit the pavement with a painful crack and he dry heaves into his palm.

Chapter Text

“Awww, poor baby,” Toga coos.

In direct contrast Shigaraki chides, “No need to be so dramatic.”

The tone is so, so familiar, like the feeling of metal unforgiving around his throat. It slides along his skin, commanding, controlling. Izuku’s gaze is unfocused, the grey of the parking lot blurring into an unidentifiable mass before his eyes. But he forces himself to take a deep breath, to think. If he can shift now before Shigaraki gets too close, he should be able to make an escape. A bird, or something that moves quickly, that can put him out of grabbing distance in a matter of seconds.

Something warm and wet trickles down his arm and Izuku’s mouth goes dry. When he glances up Toga is grinning sickeningly at him, her bloody hand wrapped tight around his bicep. Her magic feels disgustingly moist as it bears down on him, sliding between him and his own magic until he can no longer reach it. Until he’s almost completely defenseless. She must have prepared the spell beforehand if it was cast this easily.

“You’re not allowed to run off again, okay?” she says, faux sweet. “So no shifting! It was hard enough trying to find you when you ran off the first time.”

“And yet here he is,” Shigaraki says, crouching down to look Izuku in the eyes. “Did you miss me, pet?”

Izuku jerks away from the fingers that try to grip his chin, baring his teeth the way a hissing cat does. “Not in the slightest!” he spits, but his voice is wobbly and fearful. There are so many thoughts running through his head and he can’t focus on a single one. He needs to escape, but how? Toga’s magic will be effective until he can completely clean her blood off of him, and he’s not going to be able to break away long enough to do that. Especially not when part of him keeps freezing in absolute panic.

Shigaraki’s chapped lips thin for a moment, suppressing anger, before he shrugs and grins carelessly. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn your place eventually. Toga, make him stand.”

Toga pulls harshly on him, forcing Izuku to stumble to his feet or risk being knocked over entirely. His legs feel wobbly underneath him, his vision swaying for a second as he finds his balance. The grip she has on him is too tight, her nails pricking at his skin. If she can manage to draw his blood too her spell will only get stronger.

“I was worried maybe my traps wouldn’t find you,” Shigaraki says, standing as well. Easy as you please he reaches out and grabs a fistful of Izuku’s hair, jerking his head to the side and making him cry out. “Thought maybe you’d managed to run out on me right under my nose. But lo and behold, here you are. Almost like you came running back. Are you sure you didn’t miss me, Izuku?”

A giggling Toga plasters herself to Izuku’s side. “Obviously it was me he missed!”

The look Shigaraki shoots her is a dangerous one, but if she notices it she doesn’t say it. Caught between them Izuku tries and fails to swallow down his rising panic. He can’t shift. He’s not strong enough to fight them both off. But he also can’t just sit around and let himself get collared again.

So when Shigaraki opens his mouth, his fingers still too tight in Izuku’s hair, Izuku takes his chance. He balls his fist up and slams it directly into Shigaraki’s cheek. In his surprise, Shigaraki releases his grip on Izuku’s hair. The movement also jerks his arm out of Toga’s grasp, her nails scouring deep marks into his flesh. In the next second he twists, avoiding Toga’s reaching hands, her voice shrill as she tells him to stop.

With blood still all over Izuku’s arm, and more being added to it, he can’t shift. But he stumbles away from the two, feet picking up momentum as he prepares to try and sprint as fast and as far as physically possible.

He doesn’t make it far.

A thin but muscular arm snakes around his waist, jerking him roughly back against Shigaraki’s body. Izuku cries out as once again cruel fingers grip at his hair, jerking his head to the side so harshly his entire neck aches with the motion, his scalp prickling with pain.

“Collar him!” Shigaraki snaps at Toga, and motions to the bit of metal he’d dropped in their scuffle.

Seeing it, Izuku starts to struggle again, reaching back to see if he can’t punch his assailant in the face once more. When that doesn’t work he tries to kick at Shigaraki’s shins or step on his feet but the warlock just growls in his ear, tightening his grip until Izuku stills with a whimper because it feels like all his hair is going to be ripped out at the roots.

“Good boy,” Shigarki breathes, and Izuku shakes in his grasp, vision starting to grow black at the edges.

Toga pouts at him as she approaches, the collar held out in front of her. “That wasn’t very nice, Zuzu.” But it melts into a toothy grin, eyes crinkled and happy. “But that’s okay! Once you’re spelled everything’s going to be great, just wait and see.”

The cool, lifeless metal touches his neck and Izuku’s world freezes. It’s so close, the curve of it sliding along sensitive skin. As soon as its on, she’ll snap it closed and the compulsion magic, already prickling at his awareness, will kick in fully. He’ll have next to no control over his body. Will be a puppet on strings, waiting for his next command.

Without thinking Izuku frees one arm, slides his fingers through the blood hot and sticky against his skin, and then swipes them over the metal of the collar. Not even a second later the thing is closing around him, locking into place with a deafening click that makes him want to empty the non-existent contents of his stomach.

But…nothing happens. Izuku’s magic is still unreachable to him, but he hears Toga’s gasp and Shigaraki’s grunt of dissatisfaction, feels the way the warlock shifts his weight behind him.

“What the fuck-”

“The blood!” Toga says worriedly. “He used my spell to cancel out the compulsion magic!”

It actually worked Izuku thinks, dizzy with relief for a brief second. Until he remembers that he hasn’t saved himself, only put off his capture.

Shigaraki is cursing under his breath, even as he pulls his fingers roughly out of Izuku’s hair and swipes ineffectually at the collar. “Fuck, do you know how long it took me to put that spell together? Now I’m going to have to do it from scratch.”

Unlike Izuku’s magic, Shigaraki’s spell work wasn’t just repressed, but canceled out entirely. Even once the collar is smooth and bloodless the magic doesn’t return, which sets Shigaraki to cussing all over again.

“Whatever! I’ll just take him home and redo it,” he snaps.

“I’ll help!” Toga says cheerily, already bouncing towards Shigaraki’s car and pulling open the back door.

But Shigaraki snarls even as he pushes a struggling Izuku towards the car. “No. I think you’ve done enough. You can stay here.”

“What? But I want to help!”

Izuku digs the soles of his borrowed shoes into the concrete, trying to firm his shoulders and spine to keep Shigaraki from moving him further. All to no avail. He’s pushed closer and closer, Shigarki barking a laugh in his ear. “What, did you believe me when I said I’d share him with you? I don’t fucking share. Now go home.”

Toga’s mouth drops open in offense, her cheeks starting to turn red in her anger. “What!? You promised!”

Another laugh from Shigaraki. “And you believed me for some weird reason.”

The roar of an engine drowns out Toga’s response, and three heads all snap to the side as something huge and metallic bears down on them. At first Izuku thinks maybe a passerby saw what was going down and decided to help.

But then he sees the bright, gaudy orange of the car. A black X stretched across the hood.

Several emotions run through Izuku all at once; hope, fear, longing, embarrassment, love.

“Who the fuck-” Shigaraki says, but is cut off when the driver’s side door flings open before the car has even come to a complete halt. The engine dies as Katsuki is stepping out, murder in his eyes.

“Katsuki,” Izuku says, unable to help himself, but is drowned out by Shigaraki’s louder, “Mind your own damn business, pyre witch!”

In the brief time they’ve known each other, Izuku has never seen that expression on Katsuki’s face. Hard. Determined. Anger simmering below the surface but kept on a short, careful leash.

Katsuki’s mouth opens and for a moment Izuku thinks he’s going to try and talk to Shigaraki, or at least reason with him before any fighting actually happens. But no, the words that come spilling from his lips are a spell. His hands, held palm up at his sides, spit little sparks of light and fire.

“Shit,” Shigaraki curses, already backpedaling, Izuku tight in his grip. “Toga, do something!”

But Toga is also backing up, her hands help up in surrender. “No, fuck you, you said we would share him!”

“I will if you get the witch to fuck off!”

“Let. Go,” Katsuki snarls, close enough now that Izuku can smell the smoke and heat pouring off of him.

Izuku renews his struggles, thrashing against the arms holding him close and stomping on Shigaraki’s feet every chance he gets. To his right he sees Toga tense and he’s getting ready to call a warning to Katsuki. He can’t let her blood touch him or it’ll be all over. But she doesn’t lunge towards the approaching ignis witch. Instead she barrels into Shigaraki’s side, yowling, “You don’t get to have him all to yourself!” and nearly toppling both him and Izuku right over.

But it gives Izuku the chance he needs. While Shigarkai is snarling and yelling at her, his arms loosen just a touch. Just enough that Izuku can lean down and bite the shit out of him, making the warlock howl and jerk away, freeing Izuku entirely.

Izuku goes stumbling forward, straight into Katsuki’s broad chest. The witch doesn’t flinch but shoves Izuku behind him even as he advances. His hand balls into a fist, flames spitting between his knuckles and the sound of that fist making contact with Shigaraki’s nose is unnaturally loud.

Shigaraki yowls, hands coming up to stem the sudden flow of blood from his nose. Beside him Toga is backing up again before she turns and runs away entirely. Izuku can’t say that he’s sad to see her go, though he is jealous he also can’t run away like that.

But he won’t leave Katsuki alone with the warlock. Not when he knows what Shigaraki is capable of.

Shigaraki, who is already recovering, hands falling away from his face to reveal a broken nose and singe marks across his cheeks, the flesh already starting to blister.

“You’re gonna regret that,” the warlock hisses, one hand reaching for his pocket. “I don’t care if he let you fuck him, the shape shifter is mine. I had him first!”

Izuku is acting before he realizes it. He darts around Katsuki’s protective figure, grabbing at Shigaraki’s arm and jerking his hand out of his pocket. Sure enough there’s something small and twisted in his fingers. Like Katsuki’s wooden sticks, the metal is a focus for Shigaraki’s magic. He twists and deforms it, manipulation and destruction his very affinity.

“What-” Shigaraki hisses, and Izuku can hear Katsuki saying his name, but he’s too busy focusing on getting that bit of metal away from the warlock. Not that Shigaraki can’t perform magic without it; he can. But it’ll be more difficult for him because he’ll need to find something else to manipulate.

The moment Izuku has a good grip on the metal he yanks it away, then turns and chunks it as far as possible. He doesn’t see or hear it hit the ground because a kick to the base of his spine has him stumbling and hitting his knees painfully against the pavement. Harsh fingers grab his hair, yanking his head back until he can see Shigaraki’s angry face hovering over him, lips split in a snarl.

“Fucker-” but the warlock doesn’t get to finish. Another flaming fist slams into the side of his face, Katsuki following it up with a jab to the gut, then a knee to the broken nose when Shigaraki folds over himself.

It’s fast and dirty. Katsuki fights with fists and literal firepower, no curses or fancy spells, no compulsion or complicated magic. Two seconds and Shigaraki is flat on the concrete, fresh blood spilling freely across his burnt face. He’s clearly unconscious.

Izuku blinks. The sudden stillness of the scene is a physical shock after so much noise and movement. His eyes feel dry and gritty but there’s a sensation slowly rising through his chest that feels a lot like impending tears. But they haven’t hit yet and he thinks he might be in a bit of shock. Everything just happened so fast.

“I punched him too,” he finds himself saying, for some weird reason. The throbbing in his knuckles is just now making itself known.

Katsuki turns to look at him, expression still hard. But it melts, just a little, and he sighs loudly. “Yeah. And bit the fuck out of him too.”

“I did.”

A flash of smile, something small and aggressive and victorious. Then its gone again and Katsuki is helping him to his feet, his grip almost unbearably hot against Izuku’s skin.

Once Izuku is on his feet he sways a little, his balance shot, senses still reeling. He glances down at Shigaraki’s body and wonders if maybe they should call the cops or something? They can’t just leave him like that, can they? All bloodied and bruised against the concrete.

Toga might come back for him, but that’s a big maybe.

But it’s also not like he’s dead or anything-

Izuku doesn’t get to finish his train of thought because there’s a huge blonde witch at his shoulder and a searing hand pressed to the small of Izuku’s back as he’s herded towards Katsuki’s car.

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“But-” Izuku starts, glancing over his shoulder at the warlock. “Wait, Kacchan-” The slurred, slightly mangled name slips off his tongue and surprises both of them into stillness. Shigaraki suddenly forgotten, Izuku turns back to Katsuki, nervous for a reason he can’t name. He’s met with a searching red gaze that flickers over his face for a moment before the witch rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue loudly.

“Idiot. I said let’s go already.”

This time Izuku allows himself to be bundled into the gaudy orange car without protest. He’s too tired, too shaken up, to do much else.

Chapter Text

The instinct to shift and crawl into Katsuki’s lap is strong. There’s nothing else in the world Izuku wants more right now; to be cuddled, and held, and protected. Though, he had held his own there for a moment, hadn’t he? He’d punched Shigaraki. Right in the face! The thrill of it is still ringing through him, somewhere underneath the exhaustion and residual panic. Probably.

Izuku’s head lolls against the seat and the rumble of the engine feels simultaneously very far away and also like it’s right inside his chest. He should get the blood off of his arm, then he’d be able to shift. But before he can muster the energy to try and rub at his arm, which is stinging up a storm, Katsuki’s voice filters through to his tired mind.

“Hey, where am I taking you?”

Izuku blinks, trying to focus on the blond witch. His hands are loose on the steering wheel but his jaw is tight as he watches the road. When Izuku doesn’t answer he glances at the shape shifter, mouth twisting slightly. “You listening? I asked where I need to take you.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” The words are out of his mouth before Izuku can really think them through. And for some reason they make Katsuki stiffen, his gaze jerking back to the road as his jaw clenches impossibly tighter.

“Right,” he mutters, and then he’s silent.

Izuku spends the rest of the drive drifting, not really paying attention to where they are or where they’re headed. The shock is slowly starting to wear off, leaving him feeling shaky and like his mind simply won’t stop spinning.

What would have happened to him if Katsuki hadn’t swooped in? Izuku would have been whisked away and never seen again. He’d gotten away the first time sure, but under the spell of two powerful magic users? There’s no way he would have made a second escape. He would have simply disappeared without a trace and the world would have continued on like it always has, none the wiser. Who knows how many years he would have spent under Shigaraki’s thrall, compelled, unable to do anything except rot inside that penthouse, awaiting his next command but always hoping death would come sooner.

It’s enough to make him nauseous.

And what about Katsuki? He’d swooped in like a knight in shining armor, all righteous anger and shining eyes but why? There’s no way he stumbled upon that little scene by chance, which means he must have tracked Izuku down. By his magic? It makes the most sense but Katsuki had been all the way across town when Izuku had released his magic, he’d made sure of it! The witch must have been focusing really hard to have felt that. Even more so because he then had to have followed it for blocks and blocks. And after draining himself twice in the past couple of days.

All for a rabbit.

Izuku’s head is starting to physically ache with the force of his tumbling thoughts but fingers snapping in front of his face draw him back to the real world. He blinks in surprise at Katsuki, who has his eyebrows raised at him.

“We’re here. I’ve been saying your name for like two minutes, are you okay?”

Is he? Probably not. Definitely not. But he nods anyways and Katsuki, though dubious, seems to accept it.

Izuku climbs out of the car on shaky limbs, somehow surprised to find that they’re at Kasuki’s house. But where else would they have gone? It’s not like the witch would just drop him off on the side of the road somewhere, though if he did Izuku wouldn’t be able to blame him. He’s caused Katsuki nothing but trouble ever since he showed up.

And yet. Katsuki had chased him down anyways.

Izuku shakes his head then sighs, something deep in him relaxing as he passes over the house’s threshold. Those wards slip over his skin, barely felt, and suddenly he’s home. He never wants to be anywhere else in the entire world. The front door closes behind him and brings with it so much peace and security he could cry. He’s safe here.

“C’mere.” A hot hand tugs at Izuku’s arm, pulling him across the living room and once again distracting him from his thoughts.

“Kacchan?” he asks, the nickname slipping more easily off his tongue this time. He likes it, likes the way it sounds and how it fits in his mouth. Katsuki shoots him a little glare but doesn’t say anything so Izuku is counting that as reluctant permission.

They end up in the bathroom and Katsuki has Izuku sit on the edge of the toilet while he ducks under the counter for a first-aid kit.

Izuku watches quietly as the witch then goes about wetting a washcloth and gently cleans the blood off of Izuku’s arm. The scratches Toga left behind with her nails bled a lot but aren’t too deep, thankfully.

Katsuki’s touch is surprisingly gentle, his face oddly focused on his task. It’s all Izuku can do to keep his thoughts to himself, to not ask why why why.

But Katsuki is nothing if not perceptive. He tosses the dirty washcloth in the sink with an aggravated noise. “You keep looking at me like that but you’re not fucking saying anything. What? What is it?”

Izuku’s shoulders hunch and his face heats. Is he that obvious? Probably. “I, uh,” he says, gaze flickering away and then back again. “Just. Thank you. For coming after me like that.”

“And?” the witch prompt clearly knowing that that’s not the half of it.

“And…I’m not sure why you did it, is all.” Izuku admits.

That earns him a huff and Izuku watches with his heart in his throat as Katsuki turns and starts rifling through the first-aid kit. His fingers pick carefully through gauze and braces, band-aids and alcohol pads. “I’m not a fucking idiot you know,” he mutters, scowl set firmly in place. “Knew from the get go that you weren’t just a regular rabbit. Didn’t take too long to piece together that, whatever or whoever you were, you were on the run from something. Then that fuckin’ metal hand attacked you and-”

As if on cue, Izuku reaches back to touch the wound the hand had left behind. But his fingers brush metal instead of skin and his heart stutters in his chest as he realizes that he’s still wearing the damn collar. In all the excitement of the Katsuki’s rescue and the resulting shock he’d forgotten completely about it.

His other hand flies up to his throat, fingers fumbling and grasping at the metal as panic begins to set in. It doesn’t matter that there’s no magic left in it, that he’d successfully counteracted Shigaraki’s compulsion, because its still around his throat.

Warm hands settle over top of his, gently pulling them away . Izuku blinks up at Katsuki in surprise, his panic wavering and then slowly, so slowly, starts to fade. For a moment their gazes hold and Izuku can feel something liquid hot rising up the back of his throat, but then Katsuki’s eyes move down to the collar.

“Lean forward, I think I can see a clasp on the back,” he says, not quite managing to break the tension between them.

Izuku does as he’s told, his movements slow as he tips his head forward and slightly to the side. He can feel the brush and slide of Katsuki’s fingers against his sensitive throat, can feel the heat radiating off the witch as he leans over Izuku’s form to better see what he’s doing. Izuku can only fiddle with his hands in his lap and try to even out his breathing. It feels weird, uncomfortable even, to have someone else’s hands on the collar. Like he’s being captured all over again.

But this is Katsuki.

The snap of the clasp coming undone is unnaturally loud in the quiet of the bathroom. Izuku can’t help the way his hands fly up to his throat again, even as Katsuki pulls the metal away and sets it on the counter. The thing can’t weigh more than a few pounds but Izuku suddenly feels tons lighter, like the weight of an entire building has been eased off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and then another, delighting in the freedom of it. He hadn’t noticed before but the damn thing must have been rubbing against his wound. Having the heated flesh exposed now feels good.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, leaning away again.

Katsuki grunts but doesn’t step back. His gaze lingers, serious, like he’s looking for something within Izuku.

“Why me?” he finally asks, long after the moment has grown uncomfortable. When Izuku just blinks in confusion at him he sighs and runs his hand roughly through his hair. “All of the witches in this damn city and you picked me to run to. Why? We never…”

The implication is clear. We never fucked. I never wanted your magic. It shouldn’t feel like an accusation but somehow it does.

“I didn’t exactly pick you,” Izuku admits slowly, rubbing at his good arm. “That day, I’d managed to shake off Shigaraki’s compulsion and escape. I didn’t really know where I was going, just running as far and as fast as I could. And then I felt the magic on your car.”

“That’s why he was hunting you down again,” Katsuki murmurs, mostly to himself. Then, louder, “So you felt my magic and then, what? Recognized it and decided I’d scare him off for you?”

“What?” That definitely sounds like an accusation. Like maybe Katsuki thinks Izuku was just using him or something. “No. I didn’t recognize you until you picked me up. I couldn’t figure out how to get away and then I was here…” And then he’d fallen in love and hadn’t wanted to leave at all. Izuku flushes and ducks his head, suddenly embarrassed. But he forces himself to go on, fingers twisting into knots in his lap. “You were so nice to me, I couldn’t bring myself to run again.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow almost suspiciously. “Nice?” he echos.

“Yes? You’re very nice.”

The look Katsuki gives him is so completely disbelieving and slightly disgusted that it stuns Izuku into silence, despite more words being on the tip of his tongue. “You’re really fucking weird,” the witch says.

Izuku’s brow furrows. “You are nice though. You tracked me all the way across the city because you knew someone was after me.”

“And a good fucking thing I did too!” Katsuki snarls in response. Which isn’t the point at all here but Izuku lets the subject drop as the witch turns away and starts digging through the first-aid kit again. He comes back a second later with ant-bacterial ointment and gauze, still muttering. “What were you even trying to do?” he continues. Despite the harshness of his words the hands on Izuku’s arm are gentle. “You ran off and then started waving your magic everywhere, like you wanted him to find you. Were you trying to get collared again?”

“No!” Izuku denies and then gets a glare for the way he’d jumped. He settles again, trying to keep still. “No, I was just trying to draw him away. I wanted to get his attention for a little bit, then get out of town before he could find me. I thought I could trust Toga to help me with that but she…she called him, she was going to help him collar me. I think he promised that he’d share me with her if she did.”

“Draw him away,” Katsuki echos, even as he presses the last piece of bandage into place, fingers lingering. “From me, you mean?”

“Yes.”

The witch snorts loudly. “Oh, because I need so much protection from a fucking verto warlock. Took his ass down in seconds.” When Izuku doesn’t respond he sighs and finally steps away, giving the shifter space. “Seriously, you didn’t need to fucking run off like that. It was a stupid move and you’re fucking lucky I came after you.”

“I know,” Izuku says softly because he does. His life would over right now if not for Katsuki, and he’s not about to forget that any time soon.

“Good,” Katsuki says with a little nod. “Now I’m going to go make some food and then pass the fuck out because I’m tired as shit. You’re staying.” It’s not a question but it’s not like Izuku would have fought him on it anyways.

It occurs to Izuku as he follows Katsuki across the house, that the witch was using his magic during his fight with Shigaraki. Not a lot, and not for very long. But when you’ve already drained yourself even a little exertion can be dangerous.

“Um, do you want to draw from me, maybe?” Izuku offers, while Katsuki is busy pulling stuff out of the fridge. “Since you drained yourself for me and all.”

The witch glances at him momentarily before taking two plastic containers towards the microwave. He puts one inside, sets the timer, then rounds the island to approach Izuku. “You already helped me that first time, right?”

So he had noticed. “Yeah.”

Katsuki grunts and holds out his hand expectantly. “I don’t need any fucking help, but I get the feeling you’re going to be all mopey and guilty if I don’t let you.”

Izuku flushes because its true damn it, how does Katsuki already know him so well? But he forces himself to clear his mind, focusing instead only on the task before him. He reaches out and takes Katsuki’s hand, palms together and fingers laced. His magic coils tight and electric within him. At some point during the fight with Shigaraki he must have released it but not noticed. With practiced ease he directs the flow and lets it drift through all the places where Katsuki’s skin is hot against his own. The connection isn’t as strong as the last time he’d given his magic to the witch, mostly because Katsuki isn’t actively using said magic like he had been during the fight with the metal hand. Still, Izuku feels overly aware of the witch. Can feel his breath and the beating of his heart even with so much space between them.

When he glances up from their joined hands, he finds Katsuki’s eyes already on him, burning and bright. Once caught in that gaze Izuku finds he can’t look away again, can only let those red eyes sear into him while he feels Katsuki’s heart beat steady and slow like it’s his own. They stand like that, palm to palm, Izuku’s magic electric and sharp between them, for a stretched out moment that leaves Izuku breathless. But then the microwave beeps loudly and Katsuki pulls himself away with one last heated glance that the shifter can’t interpret.

Without the connection he feels cold, but he swears he can still feel Katsuki’s heart beating right next to his own. Probably just wishful thinking.

Chapter Text

“Um…can I borrow some clothes?”

It’s the morning after Izuku’s almost kidnapping. Since Katsuki doesn’t have a guest bedroom Izuku had shifted into a dog and slept quite happily on the couch. His wounds hadn’t liked that much, but they also didn’t reopen so he counted it as a win.

When he’d shifted back come morning and gone to pull back on his clothes he’d faced a new problem. They’re the same clothes that Toga had given him. It’s a stupid thing to be hung up on and he feels even dumber because he’d worn them yesterday with no problem, but he desperately doesn’t want to be wearing them any longer.

Katsuki, still half-asleep and having only just set foot out of his bedroom, squints irritably at Izuku. After a moment he waves a lazy hand back towards his bedroom in a kind of ‘help yourself’ gesture before scratching at his stomach and wandering off towards the kitchen. Normally he’s awake and alert super early so he has to still be a little drained. Izuku feels a brief stab of guilt. But then, he’d offered up his magic and Katsuki had taken barely any of it. So if he’s still feeling drained it’s his own damn fault.

It still feels weird to be in Katsuki’s bedroom, like Izuku’s trespassing. He gathers up a pair of sweatpants with a string in the waistband and a t-shirt then leaves quickly. He finds the witch in the kitchen, blearily looking through his fridge.

“Can I borrow the shower too?”

He gets a grunt in response and another flippant wave of the hand. “Towels are under the sink,” Katsuki says before pulling eggs and shredded cheese out of the fridge. “Be quick, I’m making breakfast.”

Izuku murmurs a quiet thank you and nearly trips over his feet in his haste to leave. Toga's clothes feel almost hot against his skin, a filthy, heavy reminder of how he'd nearly walked right into his own capture. Again. He sheds them as quickly as he can and then stands shivering in the cool air of the bathroom.

But the relief he was expecting doesn't come. He still feels dirty. Like the taint, the intention and betrayal of the clothes, have sunk into his very skin. It's mixing with all the other selfish, exploitive ways other people have touched him.

Izuku rubs at his arms and turns the shower as hot as it can go, then gets in before it even has the chance to heat. At the very least Katsuki's body wash will get rid of the scent of asphalt and borrowed clothes, magic and blood.

It’s hard to not feel dirty when you go through as many partners as Izuku has. Hard not to feel used, especially when he keeps going back for more and more of the same. Or did, rather. After Shigaraki he doesn’t think he can stomach living that life anymore.

But the dirty feeling is a familiar one, something he knows will stick around no matter what he does, lingering in the back of his mind. It never really goes away but it also doesn’t usually overtake him like this, making his skin crawl, his fingers itch with the need to claw at himself in the hopes of getting rid of every piece of him that’s been tainted. So many hands have touched his body, so many mouths, he’s not sure he could get rid of it all. Not without killing himself anyways. And he may be miserable but he’s not suicidal.

All he’s ever wanted is love though, a connection. Someone interested in him instead of just his magic. Was it so bad to try and use his body to find it? To let himself be used endlessly?

Izuku presses his palm to the left side of his chest. Ever since last night he swears he can still feel Katsuki’s heartbeat next to his own. It’s slow and purposeful, comforting even though it’s fainter than the pounding of his own heart. He swears he can feel it moving under his skin, within the confines of his ribcage. It has to be his imagination, right? It’s not completely uncommon to form some kind of connection when a practitioner draws from him, but it only lasts as long as he’s feeding them his magic. As soon as he closes himself off the connection is lost. He’s never had a connection linger before, but maybe it’s because he feels so strongly for the witch. Either that or its his own wishful thinking.

Does Katsuki think he’s dirty too? Will this echo, whatever is, cause pain when he turns away from Izuku?

A knock on the bathroom door startles the shifter out of his thoughts.

“Your eggs are getting cold, hurry the fuck up!” Katsuki calls through the wood, sounding much more awake now.

Izuku calls back an apology and shuts off the water. He finds the towels where Katsuki said they would be and dries off and dresses as quickly as he can. There’s a laundry basket in the witch’s bedroom so he leaves the towel there and then heads for the dining room.

Breakfast is a cheese, tomato, and spinach omelet, and the smell of it immediately makes Izuku’s mouth water. For some reason Katsuki is only just now starting to eat his own, and he glares at Izuku over his fork.

“Fucking took you long enough.”

Izuku takes his seat, feeling nervous for no good reason. “Did you wait for me?” he asks.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Of course I did. It’s rude not to.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

They fall into a semi-awkward silence after that, the only sound the faint clink of silverware against their plates. The omelet is delicious of course, the eggs perfectly fluffy and seasoned. Izuku focuses on them to keep himself from staring at the witch and trying to memorize how he looks right now. Waking up but still tired, ruffled from bed, painted in the light coming over Izuku’s shoulder.

When Katsuki suddenly breaks the silence, it makes Izuku jump. “So, what’s the plan?” he asks, tone verging on bored and uninterested. When Izuku glances up though, those red eyes are bright and focused on him.

“Plan?” Izuku echos back.

“Yeah. What are you going to do now that you’re not hiding out anymore? You mentioned something about skipping town.”

“Oh.” That’s a really good question. Izuku looks back down at his plate, suddenly not feeling very hungry anymore. What is he going to do? “I’m not really sure,” he says slowly, dragging his fork through his eggs. “The plan was to leave and kind of do what I’ve been doing, survive off of witches and warlocks who want my power. But…that’s mostly a last ditch effort. I don’t really want to live like that anymore.”

There’s a pause, a heavy silence before finally, “Did you ever want to?”

Izuku jerks his head up in surprise, staring wide-eyed at Katsuki. The witch has put his own fork down and is staring very seriously back at him, his face impossible to read.

For a moment Izuku is silent, too stunned to respond before he finally replies, “No. I didn’t.”

“So why did you?” Katsuki asks, just as evenly as before.

The feeling of being dirty creeps back over him and Izuku rubs self-consciously at his arm. Does he tell Katsuki the truth? Katsuki, who he is madly and deeply in love with, and whose derision or scorn would tear him apart at the seams.

“Does it matter why?” he finally replies, dropping his gaze again. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

There’s a brief silence but Katsuki doesn’t push. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Any other plans or ideas about what you want to do now?”

“Not really, no.”

He can hear the sound of Katsuki shifting his weight in his chair, the clink of metal against ceramic as he goes back to eating. “Then stay here until you figure it out.”

Again Izuku jerks his head up in surprise. Really? Does Katsuki actually want him to stay, or is he just being nice? Does it even matter in the end? So long as Izuku gets to stay, even for a little while…

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he says tentatively, trying not to get his hopes up.

Katsuki just grunts. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We can swing by wherever you’re staying to grab some clothes and essentials later.”

“Oh,” Izuku says, trailing off. “I don’t really…uh…”

The witch narrows his eyes at him. “What, don’t have a place to live?”

Izuku shakes his head no. “If I had a place to live why would I be on the run from Shigaraki?”

“Because going home when someone is after you is the dumbest possible thing you could do,” Katsuki fires back easily. “I guess you did say you didn’t have anywhere to go though. So you just, what, couch surf?”

“Essentially,” Izuku says. “I stayed with whoever was using my magic until they were done with me, then moved on to the next one.”

Katsuki’s lips purse, like he wants to say something but is holding himself back. Finally he just shakes his head with a sigh. “Okay, but you have to have clothes and shit. Personal belongings. Where are those?”

Izuku grimaces. “Most of my stuff is at Shigaraki’s,” he admits, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I’m not sure how I’m going to replace any of it. It’s not like I have any money. Maybe I can get a job?” Though of course no money can replace all his journals, filled to the brim with his magical research. He feels a pang at the reminder of them. So much effort and hope went into those pages.

“Why don’t we just go get it back?” Katsuki’s questions knocks Izuku out of his thoughts and he blinks at the witch.

“What?”

“We’ll go to his place and grab your stuff. You probably know his schedule, right? We can even go when he’s not there. If he does show up, well, it’s not like I didn’t already kick his ass once.”

“Yeah, in a parking lot when he wasn’t expecting you!” Izuku splutters. “We’d be going into his home. He’ll be a lot stronger. I…I don’t know if I want to risk that.”

Something in Katsuki’s expression softens for a moment, and he leans across the table, gaze hot and unwavering. “We don’t have to go. Fuck, I could even go alone,” he says. His gaze, his voice, the strong lines of his body; everything about him is calm and assured. “But if you do come with I promise you can trust me to keep you safe, Deku.”

Izuku’s heart kicks painfully against his ribcage and then starts to pound, fast and rabbit-like. He knows he shouldn’t, he absolutely knows it but he trusts Katsuki. He’s never trusted anyone like this, always sure in the end that they would leave him hanging time and again. But Katsuki? Katsuki would keep him safe. At least in this regard. In matters of the heart, well...

Izuku swallows hard. “You wouldn’t know where to look,” he says quietly. “He also has wards up that would keep you out. So…I’ll have to be there. To help.”

The smile Katsuki gives him is slow and dangerous and makes Izuku’s compliance immediately worth every risk they’re going to take. “Good,” the witch says with a nod, and leans back, cracking the knuckles of one hand loudly. “We can go as soon as I’m up to full strength. If we run into him I’m going to pulverize him.”

It shouldn’t be endearing, but Izuku finds himself charmed anyways. He tries a small smile of his own then ducks his head. “Thanks,” he murmurs, half afraid Katsuki will hear him and half afraid he won’t. A thank you for helping, for protecting Izuku, for just being there in general. The witch doesn’t respond, just grabs their plates and heads for the sink. But if his hand gently brushes against Izuku's as he's reaching across the table, well, that's answer enough.

Chapter Text

Despite Izuku’s reservations, living with Katsuki as a human is a lot like living with him as a rabbit. The witch cooks and cleans and works out, doing little bits of magic around the house and at night. Kirishima drops by a few times with orders and just to hang out with Katsuki. Once he brings another man with him named Kaminari. Explaining Deku’s situation to them is not very fun and also highly embarrassing, but Katsuki lets him do most of the talking thankfully. Both Kirishima and Kaminari seem like good guys at least, very sympathetic.

There isn’t much for Izuku to do in the two days Katsuki spends recovering. So he spends a lot of time in animal form dozing on the sun-warmed hardwood, and insisting that Katsuki let him clean up after their meals. The witch even lets Izuku go through the room he does most of his magical work in, checking out his bookshelves and carefully inspecting all his tools. It makes him ache once again for his notebooks as he mentally tries to keep track of all the little details and information. He already knows he’ll forget a lot of it since it’s not written down.

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to be comfortable enough to try climbing into Katsuki’s lap one evening while the witch is watching T.V. He’s in cat form of course, not human, and Katsuki just shifts to give him more room. A moment later his fingers, warm and so familiar, are running idly through Izuku’s fur. The shifter can’t help but purr, butting his head against Katsuki’s hand to ask for more pets.

Katsuki huffs a small laugh, mouth crooking into a smirk, and scratches under Izuku’s chin without ever looking away from the screen.

“I should be up to full strength by tomorrow,” he says during the next commercial break a few minutes later. Izuku isn’t really sure what he’s watching, too engrossed with being pet. He glances up, letting out an inquisitive mrrow to show he’s listening.

“I have a few offensive trinkets prepped in case we run into Shigarkai but if we go early enough we shouldn’t run into him anyways, right?”

Izuku nods his head in agreement, stomach starting to twist with nerves. In the eight months he’d lived with Shigaraki, the warlock had almost never been home in the early mornings. He’s not sure where Shigaraki had gone off to each day, hadn’t wanted to ask, and hadn’t been allowed to anyways. He’d had particular rules, the warlock. Things Izuku had and hadn’t been able to do, to say, to wear, even.

And now he’s about to waltz right back into that very prison.

Familiar fingers smooth along the curve of his face, Katsuki’s other hand gently scratching along his spine.

“We’ll get in quick and get out even faster,” the witch assures lowly. “Just long enough to get your stuff.” His mouth splits in a grin, the sharp of his teeth more intimidating than any predator Izuku could turn into. “And if he gets in my way, I’ll fucking blow his ass up.”

If Izuku where human he’d be choking on a surprised laugh. Instead he just huffs loudly, his purr rumbling up from his chest once more. Katsuki’s show comes back on, stealing his attention, and Izuku settles into his lap contentedly.

The next day comes more quickly than Izuku is expecting. He stands in the living room twisting the hem of one of Katsuki’s t-shirts nervously. He’d managed to find an old pair of jeans that fit him pretty well, and the witch gave him some shoes that almost fit. Katsuki had woken him up way too early in his opinion, shoving the clothes and shoes into his arms and muttering something about getting ready. He’s been crossing the house repeatedly ever since, getting dressed, grabbing things, and throwing together a quick breakfast for them.

Finally he grabs his wallet and keys and heads for the front door, jerking his head to indicate Izuku is to follow. He has a small bag thrown over his shoulder which Izuku figures holds his ‘preparations’. The shifter really hopes they won’t be using them.

Shigaraki’s high rise is just outside of downtown, and Izuku quietly directs Katsuki through the early commuter traffic to reach it. It’s a fairly normal looking building; very modern, with lots of glass and stark, black lines as it soars above its surroundings. Just a normal building. But Izuku feels it’s shadow like a physical thing, like the weight off all that concrete and mortar are bearing down upon him.

“Hey.”

Izuku glances over at Katsuki, surprised to find red eyes locking with his own. They’re stopped at a light and there’s a furrow in Katsuki’s brow as he studies Izuku. “You good?”

Is he? Probably not. “Just nervous,” Izuku admits quietly. How could he not be?

“Don’t be,” the witch grunts, easing off the brake and turning away as the light flips to green. “You’ve got the meanest asshole of a witch this city has to offer on your side.”

“You’re really not though? A mean asshole, that is.” Izuku angles himself more towards Katsuki, away from the window and the building looming over them. “You’re…incredible. And kind. And generous,” he he says honestly, ignoring the way Katsuki’s face wrinkles in distaste. “You didn’t have to come save me, or take me in, and you definitely don’t have to spend your free time making protective wards for other people but you do. I know you have a bad reputation but I really think people just don’t want to look past you being an ignis witch.”

Katsuki whips the car into a parking spot a little more roughly than is wise, Izuku feels. When he looks over his expression is hard but there’s something soft hidden in the depths of his eyes. “I promise you, I earned every bit of my reputation,” he says seriously.

“Well you’re certainly not earning it right now,” Izuku replies just as seriously.

One pale eyebrow shoots up. “You think breaking and entering makes me less of an asshole?”

“No. I think you helping me reclaim my life does.”

For a long moment they just stare at each other, tension thick in the air caught between them. Katsuki breaks first, making a rough noise in the back of his throat before he shakes his head and gets out of the car. Izuku follows a moment later unsure of what exactly just happened.

He has no time to mull it over either because walking up to the front door of the apartment building snaps him back to the here and now. The last time he’d been here he’d entered willingly too. He’d been tipsy and hanging off of Shigaraki’s arm, only too happy to be taken upstairs and treated so, so nicely. Until the collar had snapped into place around his throat. He shudders at the memory, fingers dancing along the bare skin of his neck as a reassurance that he really is free.

A warm hand settles on the small of his back, grounding him as they enter the building. Instantly Izuku is hit with the feeling of Shigaraki’s magic, sharp and cruel. His apartment is twenty floors up but his protective wards are strong enough to seep all the way down here.

Katsuki wrinkles his nose. “Flashy,” he mutters, and guides Izuku towards the elevators.

They ride up silently, Izuku getting tenser and tenser as they go. The doors open silently on a short hallway with only a single door at the end. Katsuki approaches first, pushing Izuku behind himself in a move that seems completely unconscious. He knocks loudly and aggressively but that gets no response, thankfully. Then he digs through his bag, emerging with a lock pick set. When Izuku gives him a look he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Magic ain’t the only answer,” he says, and sets to getting the door open. It’s so ridiculously Katsuki, a powerful witch with a reserve of magic stronger than any Izuku has ever run across, but who goes into a fight swinging rather than lobbing spells. Granted, with flaming fists, but still. Izuku can’t help his snort of laughter and feels himself relax just a little.

When the door swings open they face their second challenge. The wards. They don’t want to break them entirely because Izuku knows that they’re set to alert Shigaraki if they fall, but they’re also designed not to allow entry without the warlock’s presence. Which means they have to alter them somehow, or figure out how to get rid of the alarm before Shigaraki can get the alert.

Katsuki spends a moment feeling the wards out before he grunts and holds out a hand towards Izuku. “Lend me a little power, I think I can take them down just long enough for us to get inside but I don’t want to drain myself in the process.”

Izuku takes his hand without an ounce of hesitation, magic already licking up his fingers in anticipation. They’re not even touching yet when the connection establishes and suddenly the echo of Katsuki’s heartbeat next to Izuku’s own throbs almost painfully. The longer he feeds into the witch the stronger that heartbeat feels, until it’s drowning out his own.

Katsuki’s brow furrows in concentration, fingers tight but absent around Izuku’s own. He’s picking at the wards, rearranging them bit by bit with a finesse Izuku can’t help but admire. It takes only a minute or two, the witch drawing from Izuku the entire time, but suddenly he’s hissing and shoving Izuku through the open front door. Katsuki is right on his heels and not a second too soon because he’s barely over the threshold before Izuku feels the wards snap back into place.

“Flashy,” the witch snaps derisively once again. “All show but no actual strength. I could have torn through those in fucking seconds if I’d wanted to.”

“Uh-huh,” Izuku replies playfully. They’re not holding hands anymore but the echo of Katsuki’s heartbeat is solid and firm in Izuku’s chest and he can’t help the thrill that runs through him because of it. “I’m sure you could have.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes in warning, growling an equally playful, “Watch it bunny,” that has Izuku laughing. He shoves at the shifter’s shoulder, then sobers a second later. “Where’s your shit? I don’t want to be here a second longer than we need to.”

Right. They’re not here to flaunt their magic and fuck around. Izuku glances around the entryway, unsurprised to find that absolutely nothing has changed. “The bedroom,” he replies, and leads the way down the hall. They pass an impressively large but rarely used kitchen, a minimalist living room, and end up in a huge bedroom absolutely stuffed with furniture and belongings. One entire wall is bookshelves, another wall is devoted to a workbench, the third is floor to ceiling windows, and the bed is shoved up against the last one like an after thought.

Izuku heads straight for the bookshelves and crouches down by the one in the furthest corner. He almost wants to cry when he sees all of his notebooks, stacked neatly and in order, on the bottom shelf. They don’t look to have been touched at all. Probably because Shigaraki had been hoping to pick up right where he’d left off with Izuku.

He’s neatly stacking all thirteen volumes together for easy transport when Katsuki growls a loud, dangerous sounding, “What the fuck is this?”

Izuku glances over and then blanches a little when he sees what Katsuki is talking about. He’s standing next to the bed, holding a length of thick, heavy chain in his hand. It’s attached to the wall above the headboard and is only long enough to reach the edges of the bed in any direction, but not actually get off of it.

Izuku would know. He’s been on the end of it plenty of times.

The shifter gathers all of his notebooks to his chest to give his hands something to do. “He uh, had some rules,” he says nervously, unable to look at Katsuki when the witch turns a hard, angry glare on him. “If I broke them, I’d lose my privilege to move freely around the apartment. There’s one in the living room too, with a, uh, pet bed. For if I was shifted when he caught me.”

“What the fuck,” Katsuki hisses again, sounding even more dangerous than before. “I’m going to fucking end him.”

On the one hand, it’s really flattering to have the witch so concerned with what Izuku went through. On the other, “I’d really rather you didn’t,” he says.

Katsuki is silent for a moment, clearly still fuming but eventually huffs. “Fine,” he says, “but only because you asked me not to. All bets are off if I meet him in a dark alley though.”

“Just so long as you don’t get caught,” Izuku agrees, which earns him a dangerous looking grin.

They go about collecting the rest of Izuku’s stuff quickly after that. He doesn’t own a lot so it doesn’t take long to find it all; his clothes, shoes, phone and charger, and his laptop in its bag. And of course the notebooks still clutched protectively to his chest.

All in all they’re in and out again in about ten minutes. They’re almost out the door when Katsuki pauses, says, “Hold on. I’ll be right back,” and disappears into the living room.

Izuku waits for a second, but follows curiously a moment later when he picks up the distinct scent of fire and something burning. “Kacchan?” he calls nervously, and can’t help his sharp intake of breath when he rounds the corner.

Katsuki has Izuku’s old pet bed clutched in his hands and is scorching it to hell and back. Enough that Shigaraki will know for sure who helped Izuku break in, but not so much that it’ll set off any fire alarms.

“Um,” Izuku says, and Katsuki jerks his gaze up to meet the shifter’s.

“You’re not a fucking pet,” he says, and drops the bed back to the floor. It’s completely ruined, the dark fabric full of holes and the stuffing inside singed badly enough to make the room stink of burning cotton. “If he ever tries to own you or anyone else again, I want him to know I’m going to come after his ass. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Izuku can only nod, still staring at the bed. His bed. The only space in the apartment he’d felt was completely his. Ruined now, useless, ready to be thrown to the curb.

His shoulders ease and his breathing slows. The relief is so strong he barely notices the way Katsuki herds him back out of the apartment, the wards slipping over them easily because Shigaraki has always had other methods for trapping people within.

The front door closes behind them softly. It feels like closing a book he never wanted to read in the first place.

Chapter Text

“What are those anyways?”

Izuku glances up from where he’d been carefully arranging all of his notebooks on Katsuki’s kitchen table. He’s not really sure what he’s going to do with them for the moment, and has even less of an idea of what he’s going to do in general from here on out. Will the witch let him stay longer? Even if he does, Izuku can’t live here forever. Eventually he’s going to have to move on with his life and stop freeloading.

The shifter smooths a hand over one of the journal covers, the texture of it oh so familiar. “I’ve done a lot of magical research,” he admits, glancing over his shoulder at Katsuki. One blonde eyebrow raises in response and the witch steps closer, peering over Izuku at the tidy stacks.

“Really? All of that is research?”

Izuku flushes, hunching his shoulders a little. “Yes.” Not many practitioners have looked fondly on his hobby most seeing it as nerdy or unnecessary, some even finding it annoying. The best reactions have usually been a patronizing pat on the head.

But Katsuki doesn’t look condescending or annoyed as he reaches around Izuku and picks up one of the notebooks. His expression is openly curious as he flips idly through the pages, eyes skimming the pages. He pauses on one, eyebrows jumping up at whatever he’s found. Izuku watches anxiously, unable to help but notice the way Katsuki’s lips silently form the words.

“Huh,” the witch finally says. “I didn’t know that.”

Izuku blinks. “Know what?”

They’re already standing pretty close but Katsuki steps even closer, tilting the open notebook so that Izuku can see the contents. The first page contains a detailed ritual circle, and the second is filled with notes from top to bottom, every single space as filled as possible. Underneath the circle is a small label: Shifter as Familiar Bond.

“I didn’t realize shifters could act as familiars,” Katsuki says, tapping at the page. “These notes are really detailed too. Materials, conditions, physical and mental side effects. Where did you even get all this information?”

Oh, that must be Izuku’s very first notebook. From back when he’d daydreamed about not just being a partner for a witch or warlock, but a familiar. It’s not surprising that Katsuki’s never heard of the bond before; it’s knowledge that shifters keep close to their chests, unwilling to part with. Because once the bond is formed, without effort on both parts, it cannot be undone again. It’s supposed to be a perfect partnership, a beautiful, solid connection for life, but long ago it was used as a way to keep shifters captive, to collar them so completely that even after death their spirits were forced to stick around.

At least, that’s how the legends had gone. The rest went that shifters had gotten smart and buried the knowledge of familiar bonds deep, passing it quietly among themselves but rarely to outsiders. Izuku’s mother had given it to him, and he’d written it down here in this, his very first notebook. He’d guarded it with paranoia when he was young, but when it became obvious that no practitioners were interested in his magical theory or knowledge…well, he’d allowed himself to become lax, apparently.

Still, he doesn’t feel any panic at the thought of Katsuki knowing. The witch is the last person on the planet that would trap him, or any other shifter, in that way. Not with how heatedly he’d fought Shigaraki, the fire in his eyes when he’d promised to end the warlock if he stepped out of line again. No, the knowledge is safe with Katsuki.

So Izuku just huffs and closes the notebook, instinctively pulling it close to his chest. “It was passed down to me,” he explains. “We prefer for it to not be well known.”

Katsuki grunts but doesn’t move away, so close Izuku can feel the heat of his body. “It’s semi-permanent, right? Like a regular familiar bond. I can see why you wouldn’t want that getting out with stupid fucks like Shigaraki around.”

Of course he’d understand. “Exactly,” Izuku says with a nod.

“And yet you have it all lying around in a notebook that anyone could look through.”

Izuku shrugs. “Nobody’s ever been interested in my research before. I think you’re the first person to even glance at my notes.”

A beat of silence then, “I would call bullshit but I’m unfortunately aware of how stupid other practitioners can be,” Katsuki drawls, and with another sigh he finally backs off, putting some space between them. “I have to go call Kirishima and let him know we’re back. He’ll probably want to go out and do something tonight since we haven’t hung out in a while.”

Right, because Katsuki’s been sitting at home all the time taking care of Izuku.

“If he asks, do you want to go with?”

Izuku is thrown briefly by the question, the consideration of it, before he finally shakes his head no. Maybe some other time, but it’s not even noon yet and today has already been really rough. Plus, now that he has his notebooks he’ll be able to go through Katsuki’s stuff again and take proper notes. That alone is going to take up most of the day and some of tomorrow too.

“Figured,” Katsuki mutters, but it doesn’t come off as mean. He pulls out his phone and wanders into the next room, leaving Izuku alone. The shifter’s attention drifts immediately back to his notebooks, the first one still clutched to his chest.

He hasn’t thought about familiar bonds in a long, long time. Even at his most idealistic he’d barely allowed himself to hope, to dream, to even think of the possibility. His mother had never found a practitioner she trusted enough, and her grandmother before her had been the same. Shifters aren’t exactly common, but of the ones Izuku has met in his lifetime not a single one had a formed a bond, or even met someone who had.

It’s a fairy tale. The kind with a tragic, bloody ending that teaches children not to trust outsiders, not to behave rashly, to always listen to their elders. You can live with a witch or a warlock, you can trust them, you can allow them to use you. But never, ever let them know that they can tie you to them for life and then some. Because they’ll always take advantage. He’d believed that completely even as he’d offered his body and his magic to every single person willing to take them, even as he looked for someone, anyone, to want him. But mostly he’d pushed it to the back of his mind and tried his best to forget it was even an option.

Izuku shakes his head and loosens his fingers on the notebook, finally setting it aside. A nap sounds really good right about now. The morning has been an intense one.

In the other room he can still hear Katsuki speaking on the phone, so Izuku sheds his clothes and shifts. A rabbit form isn’t the most practical but after spending so much time in it he’s become increasingly fond. He finds a patch of sun-warmed tile and flops down there, content to close his eyes and bask.

“Izuku?” Katsuki wanders into the room, clearly looking for some of human size, but when he doesn’t see Izuku immediately he drops his gaze without a second thought. Then snorts loudly once he’s found the shifter. “Would you stop leaving your fucking clothes everywhere?”

Izuku lifts his head then thumps a foot loudly against the floor, because technically he’d been wearing Kacchan’s clothes, not his own thank you very much.

As if he knows exactly what Izuku is trying to convey, Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Whatever, just stop leaving shit all over the place.” He crouches down and holds out his hand, palm down towards the floor. Izuku doesn’t hesitate to get to his feet and hop over, pressing his face up into that warm palm. His shift-induced sensitivity has worn off and he chatters his teeth happily as the witch rubs at his ears and then scratches under his chin.

“I’m gonna go out for lunch with Kirishima and the others,” Katsuki tells him. “They’ll probably keep me out for the most of the day. You gonna be good here by yourself?”

Izuku nods. He’ll finish his nap then spend the rest of the day in Katsuki’s study, going through his books and supplies again. That will definitely keep him busy until the witch comes home.

“Alright. I still smell like burned cotton so I’m going to grab a shower before I head out.” With one last pat, Katsuki stands and heads for the bathroom, leaving Izuku feeling rather bereft in his wake. Maybe tonight he can curl up for a bit with Katsuki and get the witch to pet him some more before they both go to bed. That’d be nice. Izuku always craves physical contact but with Katsuki that hunger is something else entirely.

Hours later, after the witch has left and Izuku has woken up from his nap, he shifts back to human. Katsuki had picked up the clothes he’d been wearing earlier, which Izuku is a little sad about. He has his own now of course, but there’s something so soothing about being wrapped up in Katsuki’s scent. But then, it is also nice to wear something that actually fits. Once he’s no longer too sensitive, he changes then grabs his newest notebook to get to work.

He spends the rest of the afternoon ensconced in magical theory, pencil flying over page after page. The way ignis witches practice and function is completely fascinating, and Izuku looses himself in all the minute details. He doesn’t emerge until the sun starts to approach the horizon and he realizes he needs to consult some of his older notes to figure out how, exactly, it’s possible for Katsuki to interact with his flames without burning himself. He vaguely remembers something from years ago about an affiliation immunity but it had been in relation to an aqua witch. Still, it couldn’t hurt to see what he’d written about it so he goes back to the kitchen and spreads his notebooks across the table. Unfortunately he doesn’t exactly keep tables of contents, so he has to waste time flipping through each book individually to try and find the information he needs. He really should take a day to sit down and number all the pages and then make a guide so he can find what he’s looking for quickly and efficiently.

But he’s also been saying he’ll do that for years.

Somehow he ends up on his first notebook again, flipping past the information on familiar bonds. He pauses on a random page, reading the header to see if it rings a bell. He’s pretty sure what he’s looking for is sandwiched between a section on moon rituals and a how to guide on storing magical energy.

But then he pauses.

Reads the page again.

He’d completely forgotten that this is something that exists. If forming a familiar bond as a shifter is a fairy tale, then this? This is mythical. It’s midnight whispers about a friend of a friend of a friend, someone who saw an angel, a powerful entity, something beyond comprehension that bestowed a miracle upon them. Nobody really believes it, but the story is fun anyways. Inspires hopes and longing.

The phenomena doesn’t have a specific name, but in his notes Izuku refers to it as a spontaneous bond. Supposedly, if a practitioner and a shifter are compatible on basically every level -magical, physical, mental, emotional- a familiar bond with spark to life between them, no rituals required. From there the bond requires upkeep and tending, and can’t mature without intervention. If the shifter and practitioner separate for long enough, the fledgling bond will snap and break; in the notes Izuku had written that it would probably be a very, very painful process for both parties, though of course that’s mere speculation. Everything about the subject is. If you do enough digging you can find first-hand information on shifter as familiar bonds, but a spontaneous one? Only rumor and legends.

Izuku bites at his cheek and fights the urge to put a hand to his chest, right where he can feel Katsuki’s heartbeat. His fingers tremble as he goes back a few pages, eyes scanning for one section in particular. Physical effects of a bond.

Sure enough, it’s there. Connection may manifest physically or mentally even in separation, IE feeling partner’s emotions, heartbeat or other physical markers of well-being, or unusually loud/strong thoughts.

There’s more of course, about how practitioners can draw on a shifter even without physical contact, or how the older and stronger the bond, the less physical distance affects whatever connections form. About the intricacies and uses of a bond. The benefits, the drawbacks, the things that suddenly become possible for both parties that weren’t an option before.

But Izuku’s starting to tremble and the words swim before his eyes, unread.

A spontaneous bond. Him and Katsuki. There’s no possible way.

And yet. He finally gives in to the urge, fingers clawing at the fabric of his t-shirt as he feels out that echo of a heartbeat. It’s fainter now than it has been he realizes. He hadn’t been paying that much attention to it anymore; after just two days it’s simply a new constant in his life, something he was willing to accept with little to no questioning. A remnant of sharing his power he’d thought, and shrugged his shoulders of the problem.

But even as he’s sitting there, thoughts whirring and hyper focused on the pounding in his chest, one rabbit-fast, the other gentle and slow, Katsuki’s suddenly starts to feel stronger. Not faster exactly, just harder, heavier. Slowly, slowly, until it’s as strong as his own.

He hears the sound of a key in the front door and jerks in his seat. Two emotions war within him; the fear taught to him by his predecessors, fed daily by his interactions with the magical community, by the hands that touched then pushed away, by the memory of a heavy weight around his throat. The other emotion is a want so deep and visceral he feels like he’s going to choke on it.

“Deku?”

The shifter jerks again, staring wide eyed at Katsuki. He’s standing in the kitchen entryway, a single flick of his eyes taking in the messy state of the table before he focuses on Izuku again. His brow furrows in concern. “You okay?”

Chapter Text

Izuku can physically feel himself shaking. It really is a spontaneous bond, isn’t it? The stuff of myths.

A large, hot hand closes over top of his own, pinning it to Katsuki’s chest and Izuku finally looks up into red eyes. The witch is frowning, brow furrowed. Their hearts continue to beat together under Izuku’s palm.

“What’s wrong?”

A deep breath. Then, “You can feel that, right?”

Katsuki cocks his head to the side, silent before he asks, “Your heart?” When Izuku nods he continues, “Yes. It’s a side effect of me drawing on you, right?”

The truth is ready to spill from Izuku’s lips, it’s right there on the tip of his tongue, trembling in anticipation. But he pauses. And he thinks.

Katsuki may not like to admit it, but he’s an incredibly nice person and has gone out of his way multiple times for Izuku. What’s to say that this won’t just be more of the same? Will he feel pressured into completing the bond just because it’s something that Izuku wants, because they’re apparently “compatible”, because an old shifter legend says they should?

If he agrees to letting Izuku be his familiar, will it be because of the bond, or because he actually wants it?

And if he lets Katsuki, even though the witch doesn’t want to, won’t Izuku just be on the other end of the collar? He’d be snapping it closed and locking it into place for life.

At the same time, what if Katsuki does want the bond? If Izuku never asks him, it could wither and die between them, never touched, something precious lost forever.

God, he’s probably over thinking this. The silence has stretched on way too long by now and he still can’t make a decision one way or the other; to mention it, or to let it lay, at least for now.

Katsuki is looking progressively more and more concerned, though the expression seems pinched on him. “Seriously, are you okay?” he asks again. One of his hands is still holding Izuku’s against the witch’s chest, but he reaches up with the other and tentatively touches Izuku’s cheek, fingers fire-brand hot. “Did something happen? It’s not Shigaraki, is it?”

Izuku blinks, briefly thrown. He’d completely forgotten about Shigaraki in all his excitement, but they’d been in the warlock’s home only this morning. Everything is just moving so quickly. In the span of a mere week and a half he’s escaped captivity, fallen in love, nearly been captured again, and formed a spontaneous bond. No wonder his thoughts are constantly spinning.

“No,” he says after a moment, and can’t help the way he leans into the hand on his cheek. This is the most physical contact they’ve had with Izuku in his human form, and the places where their skin touches feel electric and warm. “It’s not him.” There’s still a chance they’ll hear from Shigaraki again but Izuku feels safe here regardless. “Sorry, it’s just been a long day.”

That earns him a raised eyebrow. Clearly Katsuki isn’t buying it completely but he backs off anyways. Izuku immediately misses the physical contact. Guess he’ll have to live with the soft echo of the witch’s heartbeat for now.

“If you say so,” Katsuki drawls. Then he pauses. Several emotions flicker over his face, the most prominent of which is annoyance. He sighs, runs his hand through his hair and glances away. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something.”

Oh. Oh no.

Izuku can feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. Whatever this is, it can’t be good. Is he about to be kicked out? Maybe Katsuki is going to ask for something in return for all the help he’s given. It breaks his heart to think about but getting to sleep with Katsuki just once, even as a form of payment, would still be worth something.

“Hey, it’s not bad, I promise.”

Izuku glances up, not even aware he’d let his gaze fall or that he’d started to tear up. Once again Katsuki looks pinched but concerned, that familiar furrow in his brow.

“Why are you fucking crying? It’s not bad at all.” The witch pauses, then mutters, almost too quiet to hear, “At least I hope it’s not.”

“Sorry,” Izuku apologizes again, rubbing at his eyes. “Like I said. Long day.”

Katsuki watches him for a second before sighing again. “I was just going to tell you that…if you want to or whatever, you can stay.” He rubs at the back of his neck, red gaze skittering away uncharacteristically. The tightness of his expression and body scream discomfort. “I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t stay from the get go, if you thought I was going to ask for something in return or some shit, but I’m wouldn’t. I’m not. So. You can stay. I can move everything in the study into my bedroom and you can have that room and we can buy you furniture and stuff.”

Everything in Izuku comes to a screeching halt. Is…is Katsuki really…?

His heart, his breathing, every thought comes to a complete and total stand still. There’s no way this is real, right? He’s going to wake up from a dream and the bond, Katsuki, this house he’s starting to think of as home, it’s all going to be gone. Just like that.

But the witch still isn’t looking at him, one hand on the back of his neck, rambling uncomfortably and looking a little pissed about it. “I mean you don’t have to, obviously. I’m not going to fucking force you to stay, not after…Look, I’m just giving you the option, all right? No strings attached and all that. I know you lent me your power and shit a few times but you don’t have to keep doing that and I won’t ask for anything else, except maybe that you pick up after yourself when you shift because finding random clothes all over the house is really fucking annoying. Maybe some chores. Also, why did you think you couldn’t stay here in the first place? You’ve been ready to run since the moment you set foot in here which like, I kind of get, but after I saved your ass you still said you had no place to go. And you keep going on and on about how nice I am and shit but you didn’t trust me enough to come back even after I came to your rescue? Like, really -hey, are you fucking crying again? Goddammit.”

Izuku gives a watery laugh and shakes his head. He can’t trust himself to speak right now, his throat all clogged up with emotion. But he surges forward, arms going around Katsuki’s neck as he buries his face in the witch’s chest.

Nobody has ever asked him to stay before. Romantic, platonic, sexual, the relationship didn’t matter, nor did how much magic he shared, or his own feelings on the matter. Nobody had said you can stay if you want.

Slowly, a little unsure, Katsuki’s arms come around Izuku. They’re barely there at first, but the longer they spend pressed together, the tighter Katsuki’s hold becomes. The combined pounding of their hearts, echoed back and forth between their bodies, is deafening.

“Deku?” Katsuki asks, gruff, confused.

“You mean it?” Izuku manages, the words muffled by tears and snot and the fabric of Katsuki’s shirt. When one of Katsuki’s hands trails up his back, gently grips the back of his neck, Izuku finally looks up. Katsuki only has a few inches on him height wise, but it’s enough that they can be pressed so close but still have space between their faces. “You really mean it?” he repeats.

“Yes,” Katsuki says earnestly. He looks confused and concerned, an expression Izuku seems to be causing over and over again today. “It’s really not that big of a deal is it? It’s…it’s just a bedroom.”

“It is a big deal,” Izuku insists, suddenly, desperately needing Katsuki to understand. “Do you know how many witches I’ve slept with? How many warlocks? I let every single one of them use me and my magic, helped them complete rituals and build charms and wards and not, not one,” his voice cracks and he has to swallow hard, push himself to keep going even though his voice comes out soft and hurt, “not a single one of all those people wanted me to stay afterwards. They didn’t…they didn’t care about what I wanted or what I could offer outside of my magic. And you, you just…you don’t even want any of that! But you…”

“I want you to stay,” Katsuki completes. For a moment he pauses, the fingers against the back of Izuku’s neck squeezing gently. “Didn’t realize it was going to mean so damn much. But I do. Want you to stay, that is.”

Izuku laughs again and, so completely caught up in the moment, so giddy and happy to his very core, pushes up on his tiptoes and kisses Katsuki square on the mouth.

Katsuki’s lips are soft and hot, hotter than the shifter was expecting, and for two glorious seconds they move against his. But then Katsuki gently pushes Izuku away and reality slams full force back into him. His stomach turns to stone, too heavy, and bile rushes up his throat and makes the roof of his mouth burn.

Stay with me does not equal I love you. It doesn’t even mean Katsuki necessarily likes him. Will the offer still be extended if he knows Izuku is irrevocably head over paws for him? Will he take it back, too uncomfortable to even be in Izuku’s presence anymore?

Katsuki’s palms are cupping his face, thumbs incredibly soft where they brush against Izuku’s cheekbones. He can feel himself trembling in that hold but can’t bring himself to pull away, fixed completely on the contemplative frown the witch is giving him. Like Izuku is a puzzle he just can’t quite figure out.

“I just said you don’t have to do that, didn’t I?” Katsuki asks, voice coming out gruff. Almost angry but not quite. “I’m not asking you to and I don’t want you to.”

I don’t want you. You can stay, but I don’t want you. Not like that.

Izuku feels his heart break, just a little. Of course. He’s not sure why he expected anything different. Nobody ever wants him and expecting Katsuki to was plain stupid of him. The hope of a young, naive child. And really, he is being a child isn’t he? Crying because he wants what he can’t have, even after he’s already been given so much. The bond. The bedroom. The hands on his cheeks and the kind way Katsuki looks at him.

But he does want. He wants so fucking desperately that it feels like he’s going to shake apart at the core from it.

Resignation rises sharp and bitter in his throat and he wants to gag around it. His ears are ringing, just a little, but he hears himself very distantly say, “Right. Okay.”

Katsuki gives him a weird look and his hands linger, like he knows something’s wrong but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Okay,” he echoes, slowly. When Izuku just looks at him he grunts and finally backs off, hands falling to his sides. He clears his throat. “Do you want to go furniture shopping tomorrow? Kaminari and Kirishima already offered to come help move furniture.”

Izuku licks his lips and tries to bring himself back to the present and not focus on his pain, the dread, the guilt and self-recrimination for his selfishness, and most of all the rock-hard certainty that he’s never going to be wanted. Not the way he wants to be.

“Sure,” he says, as lightly as he can manage. “That sounds good.”

Chapter Text

Completely worn out by emotional whiplash, Izuku sleeps in the following day. The extra rest is much needed but eventually he’s woken by the sound of yelling from somewhere in the house, and sleepily lifts his head. There’s golden sun filtering in through the living room window and warming his fur, and he’s quite comfortable where he is, stretched out on the couch in dog form.

But Katsuki’s voice filters easily through the walls, a series of expletives that make Izuku’s ears perk. After a moment he gets up and heads for the study at the back of the house.

“We can’t just leave all the shit on the shelves and move it you fucking idiot!” Katsuki is saying, gesturing violently at a bookshelf taller than he is. “Do you realize how expensive some of those books are?”

“No, bro, look, you just tip the whole thing back so they can’t fall off!” Kirishima says placatingly.

“Oh yeah, and how are you going to fit it through the doorway if it’s at an angle, huh?” Katsuki returns, crossing his arms over his chest with a vicious, victorious smile. “Did you think of that? God you two are so fucking stupid sometimes, why do I even hang out with you?”

“Hey!” Kaminari yelps. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You always agree with shitty hair,” Katsuki dismisses with a sniff.

This is a side of Katsuki that Izuku hasn’t really had much of a chance to see. It’s a bit startling to watch the witch interact with others in a manner that’s entirely different from how he behaves with Izuku, but is still completely comfortable.

Kirishima opens his mouth to say something else, but pauses when he notices Izuku hovering in the doorway. “Oh, hey man, good morning!” A moment later he’s across the room and ruffling Izuku’s ears happily.

“Hey, at least ask before you go petting him!” Katsuki snaps. “Don’t be fucking rude.”

“Sorry bro,” the redhead says sheepishly to Izuku. “Can I pet you? You’re a really cute dog by the way.”

Izuku lets his tongue loll out of his mouth and pushes his nose into Kirishima’s hand. Pets are always a good thing in his book, even if nobody’s hands feel as nice as Katsuki’s. Kaminari joins in on the pets too and under normal circumstances Izuku’s tail would be wagging in complete bliss. But his heart is heavy after yesterday’s blunder so he turns his face into warm palms but shakes them off a moment later.

“If you guys are done, we still have work to do,” Katsuki drawls. He fixes Izuku with that harsh red glare, and for a moment it softens. “If you want to shift and help out you’re welcome to, but you don’t have to since this is all my shit.”

It’s not like Izuku has much else to do. He can’t exactly go back to studying Katsuki’s books and notes when they’re the majority of the items being moved. So he shifts in the bathroom, waits out his sensitivity, then gets dressed and joins them again as a human.

Between the four of them it doesn’t take long to get everything moved into Katsuki’s bedroom. With all the furniture it’s a tight fit, but they make it work, and nothing is broken, dropped, or lost in the process. Mostly due to Katsuki’s constant yelling about being careful. It’s kind of fun actually, listening to Kirishima and Kaminari rib and tease Katsuki and each other. They even drag Izuku into it as well, though he does his best to stay neutral even if he does laugh at all of their stupid jokes.

When the room is completely empty Kirishima throws his hands in the air and shrieks “Ikea time!” Kaminari gives an answering, wordless yell and Katsuki rolls his eyes at them both.

“It’s just a furniture store, why are you guys so fucking excited about it?”

“It’s Ikea bro,” Kaminari says seriously, like that’s some kind of actual answer. The deadpan look Katsuki gives him in response says more than words ever could.

“I don’t really get it either,” Izuku admits to Katsuki and the witch grunts, reaching over to ruffle Izuku’s hair. It’s a reflexive action probably, something he’s used to doing with Izuku and doesn’t think about much anymore, but it has Kirishima and Kaminari glancing at each other knowingly.

“You good to go, Deku?” Katsuki asks. “We don’t have to pick stuff out today. Shit’s moving kinda fast, you can take your time to decide.”

“You still let him call you Deku?” Kaminari asks before Izuku can answer. It earns him a glare and a cuff on the head from Kirishima and the blonde hisses, rubbing at his head. “What!? I was just curious!”

“I like being called Deku,” Izuku says, before the two can start arguing. It draws all the attention back to him and he clears his throat a little uncomfortably. He can’t exactly admit that the name feels possessive and that’s why he likes it, that he wants Katsuki to be possessive of him, and to be possessive in return. So instead he turns to the witch. “I’m good. Let’s go to Ikea.”

It’s a sufficient distraction. They take two cars, Kirishima and Kaminari in one and Katsuki and Izuku in the other.

Ikea is absolutely huge and the moment they get inside, both of Katsuki’s friends are gone. The witch snorts loudly, and grabs Izuku’s arm to pull him closer. “Stay close. I’m not wandering around this fucking place by myself.” He mutters something under his breath about herding cats, and then proceeds to lead Izuku in circles through the store so they can look at everything.

It’s a little overwhelming actually, even more so when Izuku learns that, apparently, there’s no budget. He could pick out the most expensive furniture and Katsuki would buy it all for him, no questions asked. It makes Izuku wonder exactly how much money the witch makes. Regardless, he’s still going to pick cheaper items. Just being given his own room, his own bed, is more than he’s had since he was a child living with his mother years and years ago.

“You’re really fucking indecisive,” Katsuki snaps, when Izuku shrugs his shoulders at maybe the sixth bed they’ve looked at. “Don’t you know what you want?”

He does, actually. But he can’t tell Katsuki that the bed he’d be happiest in is the witch’s. So he just shrugs his shoulders again.

“Izuku!” Kirishima’s voice catches both of their attentions, and they turn in unison to see the redhead waving at them from another display. “Come check this out!”

Izuku glances at Katsuki and the witch merely raises an eyebrow, probably wonder why Izuku is even asking his permission in the first place. So he trots over to where Kirishima is standing. The display is for a lounge, complete with couch, entertainment center, and tv. “What-”

But Kirishima slings an arm over his shoulder and turns him before he can even finish the question. “C’mon bro, I gotta talk to you where mister explosion can’t hear us.”

That of course makes Izuku’s anxiety spike, but Kirishima seems completely relaxed as he steers them towards a few other displays, past a giant bin full of pillows, and into a section filled, inexplicably, with only kitchen sinks. Kaminari falls into step beside them, bumping his shoulder companionably into Izuku’s.

“So, when are you two going to get together?” Kirishima starts with, and Izuku draws to a complete and total halt.

“What?”

Kaminari cocks his head to the side. “You and Katsuki,” he explains, looking excited. “Like, do you have a plan for confessing or something? We want to know the details! And possibly an exact date, so we can plan a surprise party for afterward.”

Something painful twists in Izuku’s chest. No use in denying the fact that he’s in love with the witch, it must be obvious to everyone, especially Katsuki after that kiss. “There’s-” he starts, swallows hard and tries again, “there’s not going to be a confession. He doesn’t…”

Kirishima and Kaminari share a worried glance before they crowd closer to Izuku, someone’s hand finding his shoulder and squeezing gently.

“He does though,” Kirishima says with a warm little smile. “Trust us. He wouldn’t shut up about you yesterday.”

No. No, no no he doesn’t want to be given false hope because it’s just going to come crashing down on him all over again. Just like it always does. Izuku shakes his head, shoulders hunching.

“Seriously, I’ve never seen him treat someone like he treats you,” Kaminari tells him earnestly. “He’s a real rough dude, you know? Kind of an asshole. And we all know he’s actually a good guy but it takes time to get underneath that shit attitude of his. But you? He goes all gooey around you. It’s bizarre.”

Kirishima wrinkles his nose. “And kind of gross, honestly.”

“Yeah,” Kaminari agrees, mouth quirking up on one side. “In a cute way.”

Izuku shakes his head and tries to fight down the urge to cry in the middle of this Ikea. “Guys, thank you, but he doesn’t feel the same way.”

He gets twin stares of confusion and Kirishima purses his lips. “You seem pretty sure about that. Did something happen?”

Izuku’s shoulders slump. “I…I kissed him. And he pushed me away.”

Another shared glance between the two men. “Why don’t you tell us about what happened,” Kaminari suggests gently.

“Yeah, don’t leave out any details!”

Izuku hesitates, but it really would be nice to talk about it. Maybe not everything, he doesn’t want to mention the bond to them after all, but lancing his wound would be cathartic. So he tells the story, hushed but with the words tripping all over themselves in his haste to say them. How happy he was to finally be wanted, how excited, and how he forgot himself and kissed Katsuki. His humiliation and despair at being rejected one again, and how he really should be happy with everything he’s already received instead of crying over what he can’t have. Kirishima and Kaminari are quiet the entire time, patiently letting himself talk it all out.

When he’s done Kirishima pulls him into a big hug, his arms a little too tight. Izuku doesn’t mind, though the physical affection does surprise him a bit. He still leans into it and lets Kirishima rock him back and forth before finally letting go.

“Bro,” Kaminari says, and gives him a quick hug too, though it doesn’t last as long. “I’m so sorry you feel like that but…I’m really, really sure you’ve got this whole situation wrong.”

Kirishima nods in agreement. “Yeah. Look, you haven’t known Katsuki as long as we have, so you wouldn’t know how he thinks. But we do, and we’re positive he does like you. Might even love you.”

“He probably thought you were just trying to repay him for the room,” Kaminari picks up. “We actually had to talk him into telling you you could stay in the first place. Not because he didn’t want you to, because he does, but because he didn’t want you to feel obligated or trapped. He’s seriously worried about treating you the way everyone else has.”

It…it makes sense. That kind of thinking fits everything he knows about Katsuki so far; he’s considerate even if he tries to pretend not to be, and has been trying to ensure Izuku’s comfort since the moment they met. But is it true? Izuku doesn’t think he could live through another rejection from the witch.

“When you kissed him, you didn’t tell him how you feel beyond being happy about the room,” Kirishima says. “If you want to be with him you’re going to have to very, very clear about it to get it through that thick skull of his. I’m talking a written, gilded invitation and possibly fireworks. And also reassurances that you’re not just going along with it because you think he wants you to.”

“You…you really think he might love me?” Izuku asks, and is embarrassed by the way his voice cracks mid question. But it earns him twin enthusiastic nods.

“I would bet money on it, man,” Kaminari tells him earnestly. His mouth opens to say more, but he’s cut off by a loud, “Hey, fuckers!” from somewhere behind them. In unison the trio turn to see Katsuki storming across the store towards them.

“Uh-oh, he founds us,” Kirishima says. He pulls Izuku into another quick hug, says, “Seriously dude, think about what we said,” and then hurries off in the opposite direction.

“What he said,” Kaminari adds. “Also, I’m serious about the bet. If you confess before the end of the week I get a hundred bucks from Mina, so I’m kind of counting on you here.” And then he’s gone too, disappearing behind one of the kitchen sink displays. Not a second too soon either, because Katsuki reaches him a breath later.

“What the fuck. Where the hell did they go?”

Izuku’s stomach twists. He has no idea how to feel or what to do with the information that was just given to him. Does he let himself hope? Does he try again, this time more clearly?

“Oi, Izuku!”

The shifter snaps to attention, suddenly aware of the slightly concerned look Katsuki is giving him. “You good? What the hell did those two say to you?” If Izuku didn’t know better he’d say the witch sounded nervous.

Izuku swallows his own nerves and forces his shoulders to relax. “Nothing, they were just messing around,” he says. “Um, I think I really liked that second bed we looked at. Can we go back to that?”

Katsuki stares him down for a moment before letting the matter drop. “Sure, whatever. Glad you’re finally making up your mind.”

If only.

Chapter Text

In the end, Izuku doesn’t pick out a bed at all. The conversation with Kaminari and Kirishima unsettled him too much, scattering his thoughts so much that he can’t focus in the aftermath. He’s too busy over-thinking that kiss and the bond he can still feel in the form of Katsuki’s heartbeat, calm and steady behind his ribs.

If he’s going to confess and try again, he should really lay all of his cards on the table. Not mentioning the bond would probably just complicate things further in the future. And damn does he want a future with Katsuki.

“Do you at least want to pick out any other furniture?” the witch asks, sounding impatient and frustrated. “Otherwise this entire trip is going to be fucking pointless.”

“Aw it’s not pointless, we had fun!” Kirishima insists, and Kaminari nods wisely.

“Plus we got to lay on lots of beds. That was fun.”

Izuku’s cheeks heat a little at the reminder of laying side by side next to Katsuki on a few of the display beds. He’d wanted to roll into the witch and tuck himself along Katsuki’s side, sling a leg and an arm across him. In the middle of Ikea. The urge to shift into a turtle and hide in his shell is strong.

“No,” he says. “I don’t think I want to pick anything out today.”

Katsuki huffs but accepts the response.

They leave Ikea as a group and Kirishima and Kaminari decide to head home since there’s no more furniture to move. Also Katsuki strongly suggests that they fuck off. But as the duo is walking away Kirishima turns back and throws Izuku a dramatic wink and a thumbs up, which makes the shifter flush. Unfortunately, Katsuki also sees it.

“What the fuck?”

Izuku coughs and tries to hide his burning cheeks. “It’s nothing.”

“He’s not fucking hitting on you, is he?”

That makes Izuku splutter a little because honestly? The witch almost sounds jealous. “No! No, definitely nothing like that.”

They reach Katsuki’s car and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “He better not fucking be,” before getting in and effectively killing the conversation.

When they get home, Izuku spends some time cleaning up his notebooks that are still scattered on the kitchen table. He sets them in the now empty study, his room, event though a single stack of books in the corner makes the room seem too large and kind of sad. Trying to imagine some of the furniture they’d seen today filling up the space makes him feel…he’s not sure. None of this feels real still. Like he’ll wake up any second and find himself chained to Shigaraki’s bed once more.

Rather than focus on that depressing though, Izuku strips and shifts, forgoing his usual rabbit form for his cat one. He finds Katsuki in the kitchen preparing a late lunch/early dinner and is saddened the witch is up and moving because it means they can’t cuddle. Then he’s struck with an idea.

Izuku hops up onto the kitchen counter and meows loudly to catch Katsuki’s attention. The blonde glances over and frowns, clearly not happy to have a cat on the counter. But he paces closer and asks, “What? What do you want?”

When he’s close enough Izuku jumps up onto Katsuki’s shoulder, surprising the witch and making him curse creatively. But he holds himself still while Izuku tries to find a comfortable position and the shifter ends up draped around Katsuki’s neck like a scarf, purring loudly and contently.

Katsuki huffs but reaches up to rub at Izuku’s face, letting Izuku bump his head into the witch’s palm.

“You’re fucking weird, you know that?”

Izuku purrs louder.

“Are you touch starved or something? Is that why you’re constantly trying to lay on me? Maybe it’s just a shifter thing,” Katsuki muses, then hisses when Izuku leans over to lick his cheek with a raspy tongue. “Alright fucker keep that up and I’m putting you down.”

So Izuku settles, content in his position as Katsuki goes back to cooking. It’s surprisingly domestic, Katsuki occasionally reaching up to scratch at Izuku’s chin, or to offer him bits of food to try. By the time the meal is actually ready Izuku has had so many little bites that he’s not even that hungry. But Katsuki still pulls him down and sets him on the floor, demanding he shift so they can eat together.

With a huff and a wave of his tail Izuku trots off to the spare room where his clothes are. He emerges a while later to join Katsuki at the table where a steaming bowl is already waiting for him.

It’s a simple pork ramen dish, seasoned with Katsuki’s own homemade bouillon spice. It smells amazing of course, like everything Katsuki makes.

“You added carrots,” Izuku comments after a few bites. He’d watched Katsuki cut them, a ‘julienne’ the witch had said as he’d sliced him, though Izuku isn’t really sure what that is.

Katsuki hums in agreement. “You ate around the red cabagge last time so I wanted to find something you’d like. Plus you said it was too spicy, and carrots are in season right now so they’re very sweet. Should balance out the spice.”

Izuku pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, stunned. It’s such a little thing. But it’s so so considerate, Katsuki changing a recipe specifically so that Izuku will like it more. Catering to Izuku’s tastes.

“I love you,” Izuku blurts, heart hammering hard in his chest.

Katsuki freezes, then slowly lowers his fork back to his bowl. “What.” Not even a question, just a word.

It’s now or never. He’s already started so he can’t stop here. Izuku carefully puts his fork down and pushes his bowl aside. “I love you,” he says, slower this time, more deliberate. “I have for a while. I just…just wanted you to know that.”

Katsuki stares at him for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. Finally he shakes his head, like he’s trying to dislodge something. “No,” he says firmly but gently. “No, you just think you’re in love with me because I’ve been treating you like an actual human being and not just something to use.”

Something gives a sharp, painful twist in Izuku’s chest. How can Katsuki even say that? Like Izuku has no clue what he’s talking about, or doesn’t know his own emotions. He has to make Katsuki understand. And if he still wants to reject Izuku once he knows the truth, well…

“I know what I’m feeling,” Izuku insists. “I’m not so damaged that I can’t figure out my own feelings. I’ve been in love with you since you brought me home and took care of me.”

“See!” Katsuki says, leaning forward suddenly, more vehement now. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! Since I took care of you? It’s like…like Stockholm Syndrome or something, you’re just confused.”

“What!?” Izuku yelps. “Are you kidding me, Stockholm Syndrome? Stockholm would be if I fell in love with Shigarkai!” Even saying the words makes him flinch and he swallows hard before continuing, making an effort to lower his voice and not yell. “I’m not confused. I know what I’m feeling and I’m in love with you.”

But Katsuki is still shaking his head. “No. I don’t believe it.”

Frustration rises up hot and sharp in Izuku and he’s standing before he realizes it, marching around the table. He grabs Katsuki’s hand, surprising the witch into stillness as Izuku places that familiar hand on his chest. Right where Katsuki’s heartbeat is echoing.

“Do you feel that?” Izuku demands, practically shaking in…not quite anger. Desperation. A need to make Katsuki understand. “That’s your heartbeat. In my chest. That is not normal, not even when I share my magic with someone.”

Katsuki’s fingers flex but he doesn’t pull away, looking confused and equally as frustrated. “What-”

“No! You’re going to listen to me!” Izuku interrupts. “Please understand. This is because we’re bonded, not completely, not yet, but there’s an old shifter legend about spontaneous familiar bonds. They only happen when two people are compatible in every way. Every way, Katsuki. And before you say anything, I knew I loved you before I found out about the bond. But can’t you see? How can I be wrong about my emotions if this exists? How can what I’m feeling just be because of…because you’re nice or some shit, or because I don’t know any better, if this exists? You can’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about when I literally feel your heartbeat inside me every second of every day.”

Said heartbeat is thundering under his palm, too fast, in perfect time with Izuku’s. But Katsuki jerks his hand away a moment later, too many emotions flashing across his face for Izuku to keep track of.

“It’s a legend,” he says after a moment, slowly, like he’s feeling the words out. “You said it’s a legend.”

Izuku wants to cry with frustration. “Why can’t you just believe me!?” he yells, and impulsively grabs Katsuki by the face, forcing the witch to look him in the eyes. “What’s wrong with me loving you? With this bond? If you want to reject me then fine, but you why are you trying to insist none of this is real?”

“Because it’s too good to be true!” Katsuki snaps, looking suddenly vulnerable. He shudders and closes off a second later, expression hardening, but his hands come up to cover Izuku’s against his face. “All of this is,” he says, the words grit between his teeth like they’re being forcibly dragged out of him. “I’ve been aware of you for fucking years watching you flit from person to person, but you never looked twice at me. I figured you just believed all the rumors, that I’m violent and unstable. I couldn’t blame you for keeping your distance because I was those things for a while. But I always still wanted you. I wanted to know if you liked sleeping around or if you’d…if you’d rather settle with one person. Someone who could treat you right. And now, out of the blue, you’re actually into me? We have some kind of, of what, a special soul bond? No. No, it’s too fucking good to be true. This kind of shit doesn’t happen to me.”

A breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding shudders out of Izuku, and then another. Their hearts are hammering hard in his chest, still in sync with each other, and Katsuki’s cheeks are warm under his palms.

“Me either,” Izuku finally says, softer now. Then again, “Nothing like this happens to me either. You’re so good to me Katsuki and that’s…that’s so…nobody has ever treated me like you do.” He steps closer, hovering over where Katsuki is still seated, and can’t help the way he slides his hands back, fingers combing through blonde hair as he cradles the witch’s head in his palms.

Katsuki grunts, not quite pulling away but looking like he wants to. “That’s what I’m talking about. You’ve never been treated right, so of course you’d think you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t think. I know.”

Red, red eyes regard him warily, still not completely trusting. But Izuku can see that Katsuki is slowly coming around. With a sigh the witch plucks Izuku’s hands away. “I think I liked you better as a fucking rabbit,” he grouses.

Izuku backs off, giving Katsuki room to stand and push away from the table. Their food has long gone cold, completely forgotten.

“Look, just…give me a little time to think this shit over, okay?” Katsuki says, running a hand through his hair. “You just dumped a fuckload of stuff on me at once.”

Izuku bites at his lip and tries not to feel too giddy, too excited. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, of course.”

It’s not a rejection and that’s all the matters to him right now.

Chapter Text

The following days are…awkward.

Katsuki behaves like he usually does but Izuku catches the witch staring sometimes, his expression contemplative, gaze unsure. It sends a prickling awareness up Izuku’s spine and he usually finds some reason to go elsewhere. Away from those red, red eyes.

Most of the awkwardness comes from Izuku himself. He doesn’t want to pressure Katsuki for an answer, but now that his emotions are out in the open it’s hard not to be self-conscious, and expectant, and jumpy. Every time Katsuki opens his mouth Izuku jerks to attention. Hoping. And each time the witch tells him it’s time for dinner, or asks about what Izuku is writing in his notebook, or suggests they go to the store, the park, out to eat, Izuku slumps again.

Even worse are his physical reactions to Katsuki. He can’t help but go completely still whenever the witch comes near. Ever since the confession Katsuki hasn’t been touching Izuku the way he used to, not even when the shifter is in animal form. It’s depressing.

After two days of absolutely no pets, Izuku has had enough. He wants to give Katsuki space to think, he does! But does that really mean he can’t get some cuddles in the meantime?

So he bides his time, waiting for Katsuki to go through his day and do all the things he needs to do before he finally, finally sits down for a moment in the early evening. Izuku hurries off to shift into his rabbit form and is back a few minutes later, still a little too sensitive but unwilling to wait it out in case Katsuki gets up again.

The couch is still too tall for Izuku to jump up onto but he puts his front paws against the side and waits for Katsuki to get the hint. The witch does, picking him up and depositing Izuku onto the cushion next to himself. Though of course that’s not where Izuku stays. He hops straight into Katsuki’s lap, circling a couple of times before flopping comfortably onto his side. Instantly his heartbeat slows, eyes starting to slip closed. The awkwardness and stress of the past couple of days, the past few weeks, seems to slide off his very bones the longer he’s in contact with Katsuki. Is it the bond? Or does Katsuki really just make everything okay? It doesn’t matter in the end, because either way Izuku is happy right where he is.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Katsuki drawls sardonically, but doesn't push Izuku away. A moment later he’s absentmindedly running his fingers through the rabbit’s fur and playing with his ears. Izuku chatters his teeth and melts further.

They sit like that for a long while, Katsuki watching the news and playing on his phone, and Izuku soaking up as much warmth and comfort as he can. That is, until the witch opens his mouth again.

“You know, I really want to tell you yes.”

Izuku is slow to react at first, too blissed out for the words to really register. But when they do he jerks his head up, eyes wide as he stares at Katsuki. The witch’s mouth is pulled into a frown and his gaze is distant, fingers still rubbing along Izuku’s spine.

Why don’t you then? Izuku wants to ask. Just say yes. But instead he holds himself perfectly still, only the tip of his nose twitching in anticipation and anxiety.

“It just seems like such a bad idea.” Katsuki continues. “We barely know each other, really, and this bond shit sounds serious as hell. Also you were recently kidnapped and held against your fucking will, so there’s that to consider.”

Not that argument again. Izuku turns his head and bites gently at the hand on his back, catching Katsuki’s attention. The witch frowns down at him, pushing his face away to discourage anymore nipping.

“Asshole. What is it with you and biting, huh?” the witch grouses. “I get it, you don’t think the whole Shigaraki thing is clouding your judgement but you can’t blame me for worrying. What if I say yes and eventually you realize you never wanted me at all, you just wanted to be away from him?”

Izuku can’t even speak in this form but his jaw still drops in astonishment. Seriously? Shigaraki is what’s stopping Katsuki from saying yes to him? No. No, absolutely not. Izuku refuses to let that bastard stand between him and happiness any longer.

Katsuki is still talking, something about the other practitioners Izuku’s been with, but Izuku isn’t paying attention anymore. He shifts faster than he ever has in his entire life. One second he’s a rabbit, the next a naked, angry man perched in Katsuki’s lap.

The witch’s voice dies mid-word, eyes going wide and hands jerking away from Izuku’s now naked body. “Uh.”

Izuku is practically vibrating with sensitivity, and the feeling of Katsuki’s jeans on the back and insides of his thighs is hell. But he refuses to move. “You’re really going to say no to me despite your feelings because of Shigaraki?” he demands.

There’s a beat of silence, Katsuki visibly adjusting to Izuku’s nakedness and the fact that he’s now having a discussion instead of just talking at a rabbit. Finally he says, “I never said I was saying no. And not just because of Shigaraki, everyone has been pretty shitty to you from the sounds of it.”

“And?”

Katsuki is keeping his gaze very firmly on Izuku’s face, but Izuku can tell it’s taking effort. “And?” he repeats.

“All of that means more than your feelings? My feelings.”

Katsuki has no answer for that, his face twisting up in annoyance. Izuku rolls his eyes at him, frustrated. He wanted to give the witch time to soak in all that Izuku had dumped on him, let him come to a decision in his own time. But if this is the kind of stupid shit Katsuki is thinking maybe he needs a little helping hand.

“Why do any of them matter?” Izuku presses, looping his arms loosely around Katsuki’s neck. It’s not completely comfortable but it’s not unbearable either. “This isn’t about them. This is about us and our bond.”

Katsuki sighs, shifting underneath Izuku, and his hands settle unconsciously on Izuku’s hips. The touch makes Izuku shiver but even in his sensitivity those hands don’t feel bad, the touch too warm, too light. Like Katsuki wants to grab Izuku and pull him close but isn’t letting himself.

“It’s not unwarranted for me to worry that you might be making a mistake here,” the witch growls. His fingers flex, tightening on Izuku’s hips and the shifter can’t help the way he winces. Katsuki notices, mouth clicking closed on whatever he’d been about to say before his gaze shoots down to where he’s holding Izuku, then back up again. “Are you okay?”

“Shifting makes me really sensitive,” Izuku explains quickly, not wanting to let them get derailed. “It’s fine-”

Katsuki’s hands are gone before Izuku can even finish the thought. The shifter frowns, displeased by the loss of touch.

“Say something next time, idiot,” Katsuki snaps but Izuku just grabs his hands and places them right back where they were.

“It’s fine,” Izuku stresses. “I know you won’t hurt me and it…feels nice. Stop running away from me just because I might get hurt.” And that’s really the crux of the problem here isn’t it? Katsuki’s too worried about how Izuku has been hurt in the past, how that hurt might be affecting him now, and that he can be hurt again. But Izuku doesn’t care, it’s all a risk he’s willing to take and that’s not Katsuki’s decision to make.

He can feel Katsuki’s fingers flex underneath his own but slowly, carefully, they settle into place. Holding him. The witch’s gaze is sharp and intense on Izuku.

“Are you sure?”

Izuku doesn’t break eye contact, fingers sliding up Katsuki’s wrists to his elbows, his biceps. The little thrill of sensitivity in his fingertips makes the motion feel electric. “Yes.”

A beat of silence and stillness, nothing but the pounding of two hearts within Izuku’s chest. Katsuki takes a long, deep breath and then finally, finally leans in, mouth finding Izuku’s.

It’s not a verbal yes but the sentiment is there and Izuku can feel his eyes watering as he leans into the kiss. It feels good and right and million times better than merely being pet can ever feel, especially when Katsuki gently reaches up to take Izuku’s face in his hands. His palms are warm and comforting but the witch pulls back too soon, his expression incredulous even as his hands are still so gentle. “Are you crying?”

Izuku sniffles. “I can’t help it,” he warbles, fingers digging into Katsuki’s shoulders. “I just…I love you so much. I never thought I’d get to have this.”

Katsuki sweeps his thumb under Izuku’s eye, wiping away the tears there and making Izuku grin wobbly. “Better get fucking used to it, Deku.”

A laugh bubbles up out of Izuku and he buries his face in the crook of Katsuki’s neck, delighting in the way that the witch’s arms come up around him, settling against his bare back and holding him close. “I’ll try,” he says.

Katsuki smoothes a hot palm slowly up and down Izuku’s spine, causing the shifter to melt against him, wanting to purr. “This isn’t too much, right?”

Izuku makes a small noise of pleasure. “No. My sensitivity’s fading. I like it when you touch me.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s tone is teasing, his hand coming up to gently grip the back of Izuku’s neck. “Is that why you crawled into my lap and then shifted?”

Embarrassment rushes through Izuku and he jerks up with a squeak. “No!” he denies, even as Katsuki smirks, obviously making fun of him. “Jerk,” Izuku accuses, pushing against the witch’s chest. “I had to shift, you were saying stupid stuff. You brought this on yourself.”

Red eyes flick lazily down Izuku’s body, lingingering just long enough to make him twitch. When those eyes meet Izuku’s again, they’re hooded and hot, Katsuki’s smirk showing more teeth now. “Maybe I’ll have to say stupid stuff more often then.”

Even feeling as flushed as he is Izuku still snorts at that. “There are much easier ways to get me naked.”

Familiar hands find the shifter’s hips again, drawing him forward a bit as Katsuki leans back against the couch. “Yeah?” he asks, his thumbs rubbing along the crease of Izuku’s thighs and making him shiver. “And how would I go about doing that?”

“You could ask me, for one,” Izuku replies, looping his arms around the witch’s neck once more. His stomach is a mess of fluttering and nerves. Flirting and banter and sex are all so familiar to him, but this feels different. New. Because Katsuki’s eyes are warm and affectionate, his hands gentle and coaxing wherever he touches Izuku. When he leans up to kiss the shifter, that too is gentle, despite the way he nips at Izuku’s lip and presses into his mouth.

They end up laying horizontally on the couch, making out like teenagers. Katsuki’s hands map Izuku’s bare back, skimming over his ass to grip and pull at his thighs, urging him into motion. The shifter is only too happy to comply, grinding down into Katsuki with gentle rolls of his hips. Compared to a lot of the stuff Izuku has done this is wonderfully simple, grinding together, Katsuki still fully clothed, their lips sliding and sticking together as they pant. Little words get caught between them, names and encouragements and simple commands, ‘more’, or ‘there’. At one point Izuku’s arm slips and he flops onto Katsuki’s chest without meaning to, making both of them laugh. They’re still snickering even as Izuku repositions and kisses his witch again, picking up where they left off.

Izuku’s never had an interaction like this where the point of it isn’t to fuck him or be fucked. There’s pleasure in it of course, and it’s sexual, Izuku’s cock dragging almost uncomfortably against the fabric of Katsuki’s jeans, the witch equally hard inside them. But it’s not sex for the sake of sex. For the sake of orgasm. It’s hands learning bodies and Izuku basking in the fact that Katsuki is his now, it’s two heartbeats synching together, echoed back and forth in a quadruple melody, and it’s, above all, loving.

By the time Katsuki is dragging his zipper down and bringing their lengths together, jerking them off languidly, Izuku feels ready to burst with emotion. Affection and happiness and the desire to curl up in Katsuki’s arms and never, ever leave.

“Deku.” Katsuki’s voice is ragged, his hand on Izuku’s face hot. “Izuku. Fuck.”

Izuku makes a noise of agreement because he feels it too, is close, and leans in to press uncoordinated, close-mouthed kisses along Katsuki’s lips, his cheek, his jaw.

They come at the same time, hot and messy between them. Katsuki’s shirt takes the brunt of it but that doesn’t stop Izuku from collapsing on top of his witch, trembling with the aftershocks and so content and fulfilled he barely knows what to do with himself.

A moment later thick, familiar fingers comb through his hair, Katsuki’s clean hand he hopes but can’t be bothered to check.

“Love you,” Izuku murmurs into his witch’s chest, and hears Katsuki make a soft humming noise in response.

Chapter Text

Warm fingers combing methodically through his hair and the drone of a low voice slowly but surely start to pull Izuku from the grips of sleep.

He’s comfortable, body practically buzzing with how sated he feels. His hands are pillowed under his head on Katsuki’s chest, legs tangled with the witch’s, and if left alone he’d probably sleep here all night and all day.

“Yeah, he’s asleep,” Katsuki is saying. His voice is quiet and slightly rough, like he’d also been sleeping. Izuku can’t help the smile that curls his lips, or the way he wriggles a little at remembering why exactly they’d passed out on the couch together.

“Something like that,” the witch goes on, and his fingers pull gently at Izuku’s hair, probably knowing the shifter’s awake now. Izuku squints his eyes open, looking blearily up at Katsuki. He’s got his phone pressed to his ear, head propped against the arm of the couch as he pets Izuku. When the shifter cocks his head to the side in question, Katsuki mouths Kirishima’s name without saying it out loud.

“We did, actually.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth Katsuki grimaces and pulls the phone away from his face. Even Izuku can hear the excited yelling from the other end and it’s definitely not just from one voice. He distinctly catches the words ‘fucked’ and ‘finally’ and can’t help laughing a little.

“Didn’t take them long to find out,” Izuku murmurs, voice coming out sleep-low.

Katsuki snorts. “It hasn’t even been two fucking hours yet,” he gripes but then offers Izuku a little smirk and leans in for a quick kiss.

A spark of electricity shoots up Izuku’s spine, making him tingle from head to toe. Katsuki likes him. Izuku can kiss him whenever he wants to! That’s allowed now. It’s a thing.

The witch has already backed off and is speaking into his phone again by the time Izuku comes around to his senses, too busy reeling over the change in their relationship. But Izuku still surges up and pushes his lips to Katsuki’s, effectively cutting him off mid-word. Katsuki grunts, surprised, one hand coming to rest on Izuku’s cheek automatically. But he doesn’t push Izuku away and after a second he falls into the kiss easily, letting the shifter take the lead even as Kirishima prattles on.

Izuku ends the kiss a moment later, smiling at the confused but fond look Katsuki gives him. A kind of what the hell was that for? Izuku just shrugs and settles himself back down on the witch’s chest. Katsuki shakes his head but goes back to his conversation, talking to Kirishima in low tones for a few more minutes before he hangs up.

“Do they want to throw us a party?” Izuku asks innocently and Katsuki groans, rolling his head back against the arm of the couch.

“You heard all of that?”

“Some of it,” Izuku hums, then admits sheepishly, “They actually talked to me at Ikea about everything. I wouldn’t have pushed you if they hadn’t, so really we kind of owe them.”

Katsuki fixes him with an unimpressed look. “No.”

“No?”

“I am not letting them throw a fucking party.”

Izuku suppresses a laugh and pushes his bottom lip into a fake pout. “But Kacchan,” he whines, pressing up into the witch’s face. For a second he thinks Katsuki’s going to shove him away but the witch just huffs, his hands finding Izuku’s hips to steady him.

“I refuse to reward them for being meddling idiots,” Katsuki insists, fingers digging gently into Izuku’s bare skin. Izuku gives a little wriggle and watches in fascination as the witch’s eyes darken fractionally, lust expanding his pupils just a touch.

“They only wanted to help,” Izuku insists, giving another little wiggle. “Please? It sounds like it’d be fun. Plus, I want to meet the rest of your friends too!”

Katsuki grunts, fingers tightening once more and sending a little thrill up Izuku’s spine. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he warns, voice going low and warning. It sends yet another electric shock through the shifter. “I’m not that easy to manipulate, bunny.”

“No?” Izuku asks innocently, this time giving a roll of his hips. Then he yelps loudly as Katsuki suddenly, almost violently flips their positions on the couch, effectively trapping the shifter underneath him.

“No,” Katsuki says firmly, but his mouth is twisted up at the corners.

An hour later, when they’re both sweaty and coming down from twin highs, Katsuki changes his tune. Izuku gives him a sweet, lingering kiss, then finally gets up from the couch to go take a shower. They spend their evening together, comfortably domestic, and go to bed late thanks to their impromptu nap on the couch. Izuku doesn’t mind, especially since he gets invited to sleep in Katsuki’s bed with the witch for the first time. There’s nothing quite like curling up and sleeping through the night together.

Could things be more perfect?

He’s reminded the next morning that yes, actually, they can be.

Izuku stares down at the journal, his first one. The one with all the information about the familiar as shifter bonds. He can feel Katsuki’s heartbeat as per usual, thrumming gently alongside his own, still slowed from sleep as a half-conscious Katsuki throws together a lazy breakfast.

How does one finalize the bond then? Izuku has flipped through the section multiple times now, but there’s no step by step guide, no guarantee. Which makes sense considering, well, the bond is supposed to be a legend. A thing of myths. Of course there’s not going to be a helpfully color-coded pamphlet. That doesn’t stop Izuku from being frustrated.

What does a ‘complete’ bond even mean? How will he know when/if its in place? Will it be the same as a regular shifter as familiar bond, or will it vary somehow? And for that matter, can he just use the regular ritual meant for animals on himself?

Izuku snaps the journal closed and goes to find his witch. The only way he’ll find out is by experimenting and he can’t exactly do that alone.

In the kitchen Katsuki is popping some bread into the toaster and barely gives Izuku a grunt of acknowledgement when the shifter comes in. Izuku hops up onto the counter, swinging his feet idly. “So, when’s the party?” he asks.

It earns him a sleepy glare from the witch, a glare that narrows even further when Katsuki actually looks at him. “Get off the fucking counter,” he snaps. When Izuku sticks his tongue out in response, Katsuki stomps over and physically picks Izuku up by the waist and deposits him on the floor, none too gentle about entire process. It makes Izuku bark with laughter and bat at the hands on him.

“Okay, fine, point taken!” Izuku laughs, going to claim a seat at the table instead. Katsuki barely acknowledges him beyond a fond roll of his eyes, going back to what looks like cinnamon sugar toast and fresh fruit. “But, seriously, when’s the party?”

Silence for a beat and then, almost sheepish, “Next week.”

Izuku grins. It is a little embarrassing but there’s nothing wrong with celebrating and having a little fun, right? “What about today,” he asks, wriggling in his seat as Katsuki brings two plates over to the table. “Got anything planned?”

“Nothing in particular,” Katsuki says, taking the seat across from Izuku. He picks up his fork and then frowns, fixing Izuku with a searching look. “Why? What are you planning?”

“Don’t look so suspicious! I just want to work a ritual or two, if that’s okay with you.”

“What kind?”

“The familiar ritual, mostly,” Izukue replies, biting into his toast enthusiastically. For something so simple it tastes amazing and he eats his entire first piece before he continues. “I’m not sure what’s going to finalize our bond really, so I figured we’d just go at it with some trial and error.”

Katsuki shrugs, already mostly finished with his own breakfast. “Sure, might as well,” is all he says but there’s a tick at the corner of his mouth and an extra energy to his movement when he takes their dishes, so Izuku figures he’s actually excited about it.

The ritual is, unfortunately, rather complicated, so it takes the better part of the morning for them to set it up. Chalk lines on the floor, tiny symbols that need to be exact and a couple of personal items that have to be tested to make sure they’re compatible with the magic that’s going to be used. When they’re done with the set up they pause for a quick lunch and then test it for the first time afterwards.

The first run does absolutely nothing. The magic rises in the circle around them, swirling, searching, then falls completely flat. Izuku purses his lips and picks out a few things they can try to change in the circle before giving it another go. Each change has to be singular though, that way the tests can be documented and repeated, and so they don’t miss anything.

Katsuki is game for most of it, even offering his own experience and insight despite never having done much ritual work. In the end it’s mostly Izuku leading the way which is surprisingly fun and refreshing. He’s never had a witch just sit back and let him use his knowledge and skills before. And it’s not like Katsuki is just along for the ride; he questions what Izuku’s doing and wants to be talked through it, points out little things that Izuku might have missed, like the fact that the circle uses a symbol that’s very specific to animals and most definitely would not work on shifters.

But in the end it’s all for naught. They give up when the sun starts to set and Katsuki is worn out from using so much magic, despite drawing from Izuku through most of the process. Nothing feels different between them and Izuku is certain none of the magic took. It’s disappointing and frustrating.

“The myth says that if we don’t solidify the bond it’ll start to rot and cause us both a lot of pain, but how are we supposed to solidify it!?”

Katsuki tugs Izuku to his feet and despite exhaustion and Izuku’s bitching, they’re both careful not to smudge the chalk on the floor as they leave the spare room. The witch’s hand finds Izuku’s back, right in the curve of his spine, and rubs gentle circles there.

“Stop fretting about it, we can come back in the morning when we’re fresh and not frustrated,” Katsuki mutters, and Izuku huffs but lets himself be lead to the living room. “I’m beat, how do you feel about takeout?”

“Fine by me,” Izuku says, because something greasy and out of a cardboard box sounds amazing. “I want to shift though, you mind?”

Katsuki flaps a hand in his direction, already tapping away at his phone, but then jerks his head up with a hiss when Izuku starts to pull at his shirt. “Not here, asshole! Go leave your clothes in the hamper in the bedroom like a civilized person.”

Thoroughly chastised, Izuku slinks off to the bedroom to do as he’s told, but not without first sticking his tongue out at Katsuki. And Katsuki, being the mature adult that he is, sticks his tongue out right back at Izuku. It makes Izuku grin as he strips down and shifts into something smaller and furrier, some of the day’s stress slipping off his shoulders.

Sometimes it’s nice to go a little exotic; a bird or a reptile, or even a larger animal, though those take more magic and are harder forms to hold. But lately all Izuku has been wanting to shift into are cuddly animals. Animals that fit in Katsuki’s lap. A Pomeranian fits the bill nicely and it satisfies Izuku’s urge to be cute and fluffy.

He trots out into the living room just as Katsuki finishes placing their order over the phone and collapses back onto the couch. As a rabbit Izuku can’t quite make the jump onto the cushions, but as a dog there’s no issue. He immediately makes himself comfortable in his witch’s lap, sighing in contentment as warm, familiar fingers start scratching at his scruff.

“Do you just prefer smaller, furry shapes or what?” Katsuki asks idly, thirty minutes later. “Is it because you’re tiny? Not hairy though, so maybe not.” Izuku nips at his leg, not enough to hurt, and Katsuki laughs, shoving him gently onto the couch cushion and off his lap. “It was just a question!”

Before Izuku can retaliate further, the doorbell rings. Katsuki goes to answer it and Izuku trots happily after him, nose in the air as he sniffs the bags hanging off the arms of a very bored delivery girl.

Katsuki goes to sign the receipt she hands him, then frowns down at Izuku. “Oi, bunny, get back in the house!”

“Your dog’s name is bunny?” the girl asks, lighting up a little when she spots Izuku.

“It’s Deku, actually,” Katsuki replies, trying to hand the receipt back to the girl. But she’s bent down and is scratching at Izuku’s chin and cooing at him. Izuku tilts his head back, tail wagging happily at the attention while Katsuki just scowls and rolls his eyes. When the delivery girl has had her fill she takes the paper and pen from the witch and hands their food over, giving Izuku a little wave as she leaves.

As soon as the door is closed Katsuki snorts loudly. “Attention whore.”

Izuku sticks his nose and tail in the air, unashamed.

“You gonna shift back or just eat on the floor?” Katsuki asks, taking their food to the table and unpacking it. Thai by the smell, and Izuku’s tag starts wagging again. It would be nice to shift and eat, but he’s been human all day and being on all fours right now is nice. Plus, once he’s full, he can curl up in Katsuki’s lap again. So Izuku plants his butt by the coffee table and Katsuki sets his food on the floor for him,

though he huffs about it. “An attention whore and an animal.” Izuku nips at his hand for that one.

They eat companionably, and Izuku does just as he planned when he’s done, hopping back up into Katsuki’s lap and dozing contently there. He doesn’t realize he’s actually fallen asleep until he feels himself being gently jostled as Katsuki turns off the TV and stands with Izuku in his arms.

Only once they’re in bed does Izuku shift back to human, stretching and wincing a little at the scrape of the sheets against his sensitive skin. It’s not awful at least, and a moment later Katsuki’s fingers barely graze his arm, sending an electric shock up his entire body and thoroughly distracting him.

Izuku blinks, focusing on Katsuki’s bright eyes in the dark.

“Sensitive?” the witch asks.

“Yes.”

“Did that hurt?”

Izuku pauses to think about it and then realizes it didn’t. He says so and Katsuki shifts closer, fingers dancing up and down Izuku’s arm in slow patterns until there are goosebumps breaking out over the shifter’s entire body.

“Can I touch you more?”

It’s another moment where Izuku is, once again, struck by exactly how different Katsuki is from other practitioners. Nobody has ever been purposefully cruel by touching Izuku right after he shifts, not even Shigaraki, but they’ve never wanted to explore it either. Katsuki is looking at him curiously, interest in his gaze. It’s new. It’s exciting. Izuku can feel himself trembling just a little, and not only from the sensitivity.

“Please?” he breathes.

Katsuki’s breath catches in return and then his fingers start to wonder. Innocently at first; Izuku’s face, his neck and shoulders and chest, but then he pauses and gently pinches a nipple and Izuku can’t help the small sound his makes, part pain and part pleasure.

“Too much?” Katsuki asks, and Izuku shakes his head. So the witch does it again, gently rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger until Izuku is panting, unsure whether he wants to push into the pressure or move away. He’s starting to get hard and even that feels like too much when he’s so sensitive. But he lets Katsuki trail his fingers downwards, touches so soft and considerate as he skirts Izuku’s dick entirely and instead pets at his thighs and teases the sensitive skin over his hip bones.

“I was curious about this when you mentioned it before,” Katsuki admits quietly. “Do you think I could fuck you while you’re like this, or would it be too much?”

“Probably too much,” Izuku says, a little disappointed they won’t be able to try it out. But even just being pet he feels shaky and hot all over, incredibly worked up over barely anything. He can’t imagine how overwhelming having the witch inside him would be.

“That’s okay, it was just an idea. Can I fuck you when you’re not too sensitive?”

Izuku whimpers at the idea, and then again when Katsuki’s hand gently, oh so gently, wraps around his dick. Not stroking, just holding, his thumb rubbing tiny little circles just under the head until Izuku comes, trembling from head to toe and completely silent.

When he can breathe properly again and Katsuki rolls over to clean his hand off, Izuku is finally able to answer properly. “Yes, please.”

Katsuki rolls back towards him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Izuku’s lips. “It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“I want to,” Izuku says, daring to thread his arms around Katsuki’s neck and tug until the witch is forced to hover over top of him. Katsuki gives him a grin, a little bit of predator to it.

“I’m guessing you’re feeling normal again?”

Still a little sensitive, but nothing too bad. Izuku grins back at the witch and pulls him down for another kiss, this one longer and deeper. Katsuki gives back just as good as he gets, hands already eagerly trailing Izuku’s body, bolder and more confident this time.

By the time Katsuki is finally sliding into him, Izuku is practically begging for it. Katsuki is just that good at working him up, bringing him to the edge a few times only to leave him hanging. Izuku bites down on a pillow on the first thrust and is practically screaming into it when he comes an indeterminable amount of time later. Katsuki shudders with Izuku through the orgasm, draped over the shifter’s limp form, then goes right back to it. Izuku doesn’t mind, loves the feeling of being full and oversensitive even if he won’t be able to work up to another orgasm..

Katsuki comes inside him, which Izuku also doesn’t mind, then collapses in the bed next to him. Izuku slaps weakly at his chest, too worn out to even lift his head. “You’re cleaning that up,” he says sleepily, and the witch grumbles.

“Can I at least enjoy my afterglow? Fuck.”

Izuku is basically asleep when he feels the bed shift as Katsuki gets up. He jerks a little at the feeling of rough cloth on his body but can’t do much more than whine into his pillow.

“You’re the one who wanted me to clean you up,” Katsuki grouses, but presses a quick kiss to the dip of Izuku’s spine. It makes something inside Izuku glow a little, and he can physically feel Katsuki’s own sated contentment. All curled up and sleeping in his chest, like something living and breathing.

He’s asleep by the time Katsuki curls up around him again.

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes to a feeling in his chest that he can neither name nor describe.

Still half asleep he turns, burrowing into the comforter pooled loosely around him. He’s not touching Katsuki but he knows the witch is beside him, still sleeping soundly, his breathing quiet and even. Slowly Izuku blinks his eyes open.

It’s early morning and weak, gray light spills around the edges of curtains pulled tight over the windows. Shadows dominate most of the room still, laying heavy in every crevice and crease, the watery sunlight just barely illuminating Katsuki’s rumpled, soft form.

He’s facing Izuku, curled up on his side with his one arm tucked under his head and the other outstretched, like maybe he’d been holding Izuku close, or had reached out for him during the night.

The shifter can feel himself smile and can’t help but trace those familiar features, loving how soft and vulnerable Katsuki looks, how handsome and at peace. There’s something to be said about the fierceness of his eyes, the blazing fire in them, and how hot he looks when snarling or even just frowning. But this has a charm all its own too. Features lax, eyelashes bright and bold against his cheeks, lips slightly parted.

Izuku blinks slowly, a content cat at peace with its surroundings, and it’s in that brief moment of darkness behind his eyelids that he feels it again. The thing in his chest.

It….glows. Like a raging fire that’s been banked and left to smolder. That’s the only way he can think to describe it.

Furrowing his brow, Izuku closes his eyes and focuses on it, tentatively prodding at the feeling. It’s curled up just within his ribs, taking up all the space between lungs and heart and stomach. But even as he focuses on it, tries to feel out the warmth it gives off, it shifts and starts to move. Stretch. Like a cat waking up from a nap, arching its back and waving its tail.

The thing opens its eyes.

“Morning.” Katsuki’s voice is quiet and rough with sleep. His fingers find Izuku’s face, pad of his thumb smoothing over the wrinkle in his brow. “What’re you frowning about so early?”

Izuku blinks, bringing the real world back into focus.

His witch is staring at him, eyes barely open, expression still lax. When Izuku doesn’t respond immediately, thoughts whirling, Katsuki raises a blonde eyebrow at him. “Rabbit got your tongue?”

Izuku coughs out a laugh, surprised. “No, I’m just thinking.”

That earns him a hum and Katsuki shits closer, reeling Izuku in and tucking his chin over top of Izuku’s head. They’re still naked after their exploits the night before, and having that much bare skin pressed to bare skin feels wonderfully intimate. Izuku snuggles closer, tossing his leg over Katsuki’s hip.

“No more thinking,” Katsuki says, and with his head pressed against the witch’s chest, Izuku hears his voice more as rumble through skin and bone than as sound. “It’s too damn early. Go back to sleep, bunny.”

The thing in Izuku’s chest curls up, preparing to drift off again. “Katsuki,” Izuku says, wriggling a little so that he can look up at the witch. “Katsuki.”

The repetition of his name has the blonde wrinkling his nose, though he doesn’t open his eyes. “I thought I told you to go the fuck to sleep.”

“I think we did it,” Izuku says.

Katsuki sighs, like he’d actually been expecting Izuku to listen to him. “Did what?”

“Solidified the bond.”

The thing in his chest perks up with interest at the same exact time that Katsuki opens his eyes and turns to look at Izuku, brow furrowed. “What?” he asks, already starting to look a little more awake. “How?”

“I’m not sure,” Izuku admits, though he does have a theory. “But I can feel you. Here.” He slides a hand between them to touch his own sternum, fingers harsh enough to dimple the skin. Somehow the glowing impression of Katsuki within him feels even more real than the physical touch. “Can you feel me?”

Red eyes flutter shut, Katsuki’s brow creasing further as he focuses. But it doesn’t take long. A moment later his eyes fly open and he stares in astonishment down at Izuku, mouth slightly open but no sound escaping.

“Like something curled up inside you, right?” Izuku asks, unable to help the excitement in his voice. All that work yesterday, all the effort and time, all his hoping and dreaming up until this point…it’s all paying off.

“You’re…”Katsuki starts, pauses, stares helplessly at Izuku and the blinding smile he can feel on his face. Then he smiles back, soft and awed. “You feel like summer. And your heartbeat is so fast.”

“I feel like I’m going to burst,” Izuku admits, pressing his face into Katsukki’s chest with a small, giddy noise. “We’re bonded! We actually did it! I’m your familiar now and I can feel you and you can feel me and you want me oh my god you want me, I can’t believe you want me? But you do! And you’re…you feel like a fireplace, or, or a bonfire, a big, bright one that’s really warm and lights up the night…”

He doesn’t realize his words have faded into soft, unintelligible mumbles until Katsuki snorts and runs his fingers through Izuku’s hair, petting him. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

Izuku snaps his mouth shut, looking sheepishly up at his witch. His witch for real! They’re bonded! He wriggles again, unable to control his excitement, and flushes a little with embarrassment at his own childishness. But Katsuki smiles down at him and Izuku can feel the witch’s amusement and own happiness in his chest, glowing between his ribs.

“So,” Katsuki asks, pulling Izuku’s attention away from where it had drifted. “How did we solidify the bond?”

Izuku flushes anew. “I have a theory,” he starts, drifting off a little. At Katsuki’s raised, inquiring eyebrow he laughs a little. “So you know how we uh, slept together last night?”

“Right, we had sex,” Katsuki says unabashedly.

“Right,” Izuku echoes. “Well you kind of…came inside me.”

Silence for a long, long second, before amusement bursts sharp and happy through Izuku, shocking him into stillness as Katsuki starts to laugh. With an impressive movement, Katsuki rolls Izuku onto his back and pins him there, hovering over the shifter with a shit-eating grin on his face. He leans in close, eyes bright and teasin, and Izuku can still feel the witch’s amusement coursing through him like his own.

“Are you fucking telling me the ingredient we were missing all along was my spunk?”

Izuku chokes. “No! I mean…kind of?” He hesitates, unable to help but laugh a little as well. “I think uh, it kind of had to be in the right place for it to work.”

“Inside of you.”

“Inside me,” Izuku agrees, staring up at Katsuki with a slight grin. They make eye contact for a long second before they both break into howling laughter, Katsuki rolling away from Izuku and the shifter throwing his arms over his face. It goes on and on and each time they glance at each other it starts anew.

“I can’t fucking believe,” Katsuki gasps at one point. “All we had to do was fuck, really? Magic is the worst holy shit.”

Izuku turns towards him, schooling his expression into one of faux-seriousness. “Cum is a really powerful magical tool, Katsuki. Don’t mock it.” For a second he breaks, pressing his lips tight around a giggle but he forces himself to go on, voice strained. “Don’t you remember that old expression about the tenants of magic? Blood, bone, and bird spit? Guess what bird spit is a euphemism for”

They’re off again in new peals of laughter.

Really, it’s not even that funny. But there’s something cathartic about laughing and fucking around like teenage boys, like friends. Telling dirty jokes and shoving at each other as they snort unattractively.

By the time they’ve calmed down, Izuku is out of breath and his cheeks are sticky with tears. Katsuki rolls into him, brushing his thumb under one of the shifter’s eyes. Izuku grins at him, shifts so that he can kiss the same thumb that touched him so gently. He feels overly full. Warm. Fit to burst with Katsuki’s fire and his own happiness, the sensation of cool sheets against his body, the comfort of the wards surrounding them, the knowledge that he’s safe and wanted here, in this house.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words tripping over themselves like he’ll burst if he doesn’t get them out. “Thank you for saving me.”

The lightheartedness from before fades, leaving behind only emotion and their tangled, bare limbs. Katsuki shakes his head. “You didn’t need saving, Izuku,” he says. “You saved yourself. You escaped. You just needed a chance to get back on your feet.”

The words strike a chord Izuku hadn’t known needed striking. But he feels himself tremble, all that fullness suddenly overwhelming him. He knows what Katsuki is getting at, but he can’t help his wobbly smile, and a token protest of, “Well it sure felt like you saved me in that parking lot.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Okay, that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Izuku admits, and burrows closer to his witch. He’s content to lay there, wrapped up in Katsuki’s arms, and feel him both inside and around him. Filling Izuku up.

“You’re a good man, Katsuki. A good witch.”

Silence. Then a soft, almost tentative, “Yeah, maybe.”

There’s truth in what Katsuki had said before. Izuku was the one who got himself away from Shigaraki. Nobody came to save him from that apartment, that was all him. And afterwards…well, Katsuki provided Izuku the perfect place to put his life back together again. Izuku might have thrown that chance away when he left, but he came back, and Katsuki helped him cut that final tie. He can still smell the scent of burning fabric as the pet bed went up in flames.

Now all he wants is to build his life here, with Katsuki.

They lay in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep until the light spilling in through the window grows warm and banishes the many shadows around the room. When Izuku’s stomach starts to growl loudly, Katsuki forces them up.

“I’m making you breakfast,” he declares, and then promptly dumps Izuku on the floor. Izuku shifts and comes up yowling and Katsuki laughs at him as he dresses.

He’s too warm to stay indignant for long, so Izuku follows Katsuki out to the kitchen, meowing loudly the whole way. Katsuki bitches about it but lets Izuku drape himself around his neck as he cooks.

“You know,” the witch says later, when Izuku is human again and they’re seated at the table together. “If you just…wanted to stay with me in the master bedroom that’d be okay. I can clear out some space for you in the closet. If you want. Then we can use the spare for your notes and my work.”

Izuku beams. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” They turn back to their food and comfortable silence reigns before something occurs to Izuku.

“I want to go buy some new notebooks,” he says, glancing over at Katsuki.“It’s just…it feels like it’s time to start a new one, you know? Start fresh.”

Chapter Text

One Year Later

The supermarket is surprisingly deserted but then, it is a weekday afternoon. Izuku wanders up and down the aisles, slowly filling his cart and crossing items off his list. After this he has to stop by the apothecary next door and pick up a few things for his and Kacchan’s work. They’ve run out of chalk again, the third time this week, and Katsuki accidentally burned the covers of several of Izuku’s notebooks so he needs some fireproof binding.

With Izuku’s help, Katsuki’s business has expanded and they’ve been looking into getting an actual store front recently. A little protective charm shop, someplace to go to soothe all your worries about day to day life; wards to prevent you from tripping or spraining an ankle, getting mugged, crossing the street safely, the like. Izuku’s imagination and seemingly endless well of power has almost tripled the many things Katsuki can ward and protect against. In combination with the rumor that the shifter and ignis witch are working together, they’ve gotten a huge boost in customers. They both still have something of a reputation: Izuku being a slut, Katsuki a violent asshole, but apparently the combination is intriguing to the magical community at large. Izuku likes to think that the good they’re doing for the city at large is starting to combat those misconceptions.

A task much easier to accomplish if Katsuki would quit wasting all the damn chalk.

A twinge runs through Izuku’s chest and he can help but pressing a hand to it, smiling. Over time they’ve managed to hone and strengthen their bond, and right now he can feel Katsuki’s annoyance loud and clear as it’s practically being shoved at him. Probably because Izuku had been trying to silently reprimand his witch. He smiles and shakes the annoyance off, instead focusing carefully on sending a mental image to his partner. Of chalk. All the broken, discarded chalk he’d discovered this morning in their work room and the many useless scribbles from over the past week. Almost immediately Katsuki backs down but Izuku can tell he’s not particularly sorry. He’s probably grumbling to himself right now about Izuku’s nagging. Ass.

Still smiling, Izuku plucks a box of cereal off the shelf and turns back to his cart. And freezes.

Well, he thinks, staring unblinking at the end of the aisle, even villains have to grocery shop.

It’s been a long time since he’s thought of Shigaraki, and even longer since he’s seen him. They live in the same city sure, but it’s a big city, and it’s not like he’s been particularly active in the magical community lately, preferring the company of Katsuki, his friends, and their new neighbors, over people who used Izuku for years, tossing him among each other like a beach ball.

Sometimes Izuku still wakes up with the feeling of cool metal tight around his throat but then he’ll feel Katsuki’s heartbeat next to his own, or the blonde will roll over and toss an arm across Izuku, subconsciously pulling him close, and the feeling will fade. He’ll take a deep breath, smell the ghost of burning cotton and upholstery, and fall right back into sleep.

Shigaraki looks the same as he ever did, nothing new or different. He’s got his hood pulled up tight over his face and judging by the lumps in his clothes he’s got more of those magical hands on him, though Izuku couldn’t guess to their purpose. Nor does he want to. The warlock is idly browsing a shelf, shoulders slumped, body loose. A non threat.

Even villains have to eat. Izuku kind of wants to laugh.

Even if he were here for the shifter, Izuku isn’t exactly defenseless. He never was, not really, but with Katsuki’s help they’d devised neat little offensive potions and such for him to keep on his person. Just in case. The first few times he left the house without Katsuki or any of their friends he’d kept his hands shoved deep into his pockets, a bottle clenched in each. Now he’s lucky if he remembers to bring them at all, though Katsuki is always there to remind him. Just in case, just in case.

As if he can feel the weight of Izuku’s unsure gaze on him, Shigarki glances up and over,eyes locking with the familiar’s. There’s a long second where they simply stare at each other. Izuku knows he’s different; looks different, behaves, sounds, moves, even feels different. And in a few seconds he knows Shigaraki has picked up all of that too, from the massive amounts of fresh produce in Izuku’s cart to the various protective wards on his jewelry, the innocuous ring he wears on a chain instead of on the third finger of his left hand. And though Izuku can’t feel it himself, he knows from other practitioners that magically he feels…claimed. Taken. Like Katsuki is standing right next to him with an arm over his shoulder even when they’re miles apart.

Shigaraki’s gaze flickers up then down, his expression never changing. Then he turns back to the shelf.

He may not have a lot of redeeming qualities in Izuku’s eyes, but at the very least he knows when a fight is lost. And has been lost for a while.

Izuku turns back to his cart and moves onto the next aisle. Despite himself he can feel the hammering of his heart in his chest and there’s a faint tremble in his legs.

There’s a sharp yank on the bond that causes him to stumble. Katsuki never does that unless he’s trying to get Izuku’s attention so he shakes his head and focuses. Katsuki can feel the racing of Izuku’s heart the same as Izuku can, so he’s not surprised when he feels a worried question presented to him. There’s no words but he understands just fine.

Are you okay? What’s wrong? What’s happening? Do you need help?

Izuku takes a deep breath and settles himself, heartbeat slowing. The bond is restless in his chest, pacing like a caged animal, representing Katsuki’s own worry. Izuku’s portion of the bond must have been sending some pretty distraught messages to make the witch so concerned. He does his best to send reassurance to Katsuki and let him know that he’s okay. A nasty surprise, but a momentary one. Nothing to be concerned over.

Izuku’s phone rings before he can get very far and he rolls his eyes with a huff. “Hello?” he answers, glancing at the new aisle he’s in. There are errands that need finishing after all, warlock or no warlock.

“What the fuck happened?” comes Katsuki’s gruff voice. Not even a hello, no ‘hi Izuku, are you okay?’ and the shifter rolls his eyes again.

“I ran into someone, it’s nothing,” he says, grabbing a jar of marinara off the shelf. Then he puts it back: Katsuki prefers to make his own and gets pissed when Izuku buys it instead.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“Just caught me by surprise, that’s all,” Izuku insists. They do need more pasta, so he goes a few shelves down to pick some out. “I’ll tell you about it when I get home, okay? But I’m fine, honest. Now, do you want angel hair or linguine?”

A pause. On the other end of the line, Katsuki huffs loudly but seems to be satisfied by the shifter’s response. “Do they have chitarra?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Izuku deadpans, scanning the shelf quickly. He makes a small noise of victory when his eyes catch on the word a moment later. “Oh, I found it though. One package?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Just make sure you get the over ripe tomatoes this time, they make for better sauce.”

“Yes, chef,” Izuku says laughingly and can practically hear the look of derision Katsuki is giving him right now.

“Whatever, just get home soon.”

“Will do. I love you.”

There’s no pause or hesitation just a gruff, “I love you too, drive safe,” and the line goes dead.

Izuku can’t help smiling down at his phone, feeling light and giddy. Through the bond he can feel that Katsuki has calmed down as well, all annoyed affection and love tinged with the faintest bit of worry. He’s still so protective of Izuku sometimes.

His Katsuki, his Kacchan, his lover, his fiancee.

His witch.

The End