Chapter Text
He hadn't had a hospital stay that long since his early days at UA. Between his fatigue and his poor nutrition over the past month (which he hadn't even noticed), his stamina had been too low to heal with quirks for the first few days.
Kacchan had been mostly absent from the hospital, but he'd sent Eijirou and Mina to babysit Izuku in his place. Izuku didn't mind. He'd become close with both of them over the past five years, and it was nice to be able to spend so much time with them. Besides, if Kacchan wasn't here, it was because he was moving Izuku's things into the new apartment.
Once he got out of here, he'd be stepping directly back into the life he thought he'd lost. By some miracle, he had it back. He couldn't wait to live it.
Even though Kacchan had missed most of the latter end of Izuku's hospital stay, he'd insisted on taking him home himself. Eijirou had offered and the blonde had thrown a jello cup at his face.
"You ready?" Kacchan asked, walking into his hospital room. "Where's your doctor? Gotta ask him about your recovery plan n' shit."
"I'm ready, and we're leaving now," Izuku insisted, throwing his sign-out paperwork at the poor attending nurse and beelining for the door. Kacchan opened his mouth to protest, but Izuku slapped a palm over his mouth. "No. I gotta get out of here. I told the doctor to email you my treatment plan. We're going."
He was done with the hospital. He was supposed to be discharged this morning, but his doctor was sick of his shit and had been dragging out his care as a sick, twisted punishment. It was almost 6 pm, and he couldn't look at another x-ray without concussing himself on the nearest flat surface.
Kacchan licked a broad stripe across his palm, and Izuku was disappointed but not surprised. He didn't move his hand out of sheer spite. Katsuki rolled his eyes and reached up to drag Izuku's hand away. "Are you sure you told him to email me? Or are you lying like last time you had an intensive rehab program and I only found out because the doc saw you fighting a villain on TV?"
"I told him to email you," Izuku repeated dryly. "I promise."
"Okay," Kacchan chuckled, leaning down just slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. And then another. And another. "I believe you." He turned his eyes to the nurse, who was watching them with a soft, fond expression. "Thanks for probably strapping him down when he was being a shit patient—"
Izuku huffed. "ENOUGH! We're leaving." He pushed at Katsuki's shoulders and bullied him out the door. "Thanks, Mika!" he called over his shoulder.
"Don't come back soon, Deku!" she called back.
"Wishful thinking!" Kacchan yelled as Izuku dragged him down the hall and out the door.
Kacchan was right. The new place was way nicer.
It was a penthouse condo just ten minutes from the hospital and fifteen minutes from the agency. The proximity to the hospital suggested that even though they'd been broken up, Kacchan couldn't help but make plans that included him. When he said as much out loud, Katsuki snorted.
"Well it's basically your second home, so it was really a convenience thing," he teased, not even flinching when Izuku slugged him in the arm.
The entry hallway was half the size of their new living room. The place was barely furnished, and there were boxes everywhere, but the bare bones of the place were beautiful.
Katsuki led him through—showing him a family room that sprouted off into two guest bedrooms and the master bedroom.
Izuku scowled at his boyfriend. It wasn't as effective, since his stomach erupted in butterflies at the word boyfriend, but it was still there. "What?" the blonde barked defensively.
"You were gonna live here without me?" he demanded.
"I was fuckin' miserable. This was extreme retail therapy," he explained, pulling Izuku further into the flat, lacing their fingers together. Izuku's eyes stung. He never thought he'd hold Kacchan's hand again. At least, not unless he was being launched at a villain.
When they turned the corner into the living room, Izuku stopped still. The place was beautiful—high ceilings, tons of natural light, and tons of space. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with the most amazing view of the city he'd ever seen.
Most of the space hadn't been set up yet. The open-concept kitchen was complete since Izuku didn't really get a say in that. The dining area was complete-ish, just lacking decor. And one of their sofas had been unpacked along with their TV.
But that's not why he stopped.
The room was dimly lit, but illuminated by dozens of candles, surrounded by what felt like a metric fuck-ton of rose petals.
The room was bathed in a warm romantic glow, and Izuku's heart was threatening to break through his sternum. Katsuki brought Izuku's hand up to his mouth, dusting kisses across his knuckles. "Happy Valentine's Day," he murmured.
Izuku's jaw dropped. "It's Valentine's Day?" he cried. "I didn't—"
"You were in the hospital, and before you were in the hospital, we weren't together," Katsuki reminded him, kissing his scarred knuckles again before tugging him closer and kissing his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his cheeks.
"Kacchan," he uttered, a little breathless. "You didn't have to do this," he said. Kacchan's hands wandered to his waist—broad and warm—grounding him and igniting him all at once.
"I didn't do much," he replied, still nosing along his hairline and brushing his lips along his brow. "Just made dinner and lit some candles. And trashed our place with dead plant genitals."
Izuku snorted, burying his face in Kacchan's chest and hugging him around the waist. Fuck, he'd missed him. "So romantic, Kacchan," he laughed, shoulders shaking.
"That's what people say about me. Kickass hero, very romantic," he teased. "So how about it, baby?" Izuku flushed, heart squeezing and stomach somersaulting. Pet names suddenly felt like a drug. "You hungry?"
Kacchan drew him further into the room, leading him toward the dining table. "Gimme a sec," he said, pulling the chair out so that Izuku could sit. "I didn't want it to be cold by the time you got here, so I have to do the last parts now."
Izuku watched as Kacchan cracked an egg. "You made katsudon," he cooed as Katsuki worked, placing breaded pork in the pan and pouring the egg over top.
"Told you I was romantic," he grinned. God, he'd missed that grin—sharp and bright and challenging. Izuku wanted to kiss it off his face. "I haven't made it in a month, I was almost starting to miss it."
So he did.
He rose from his seat and sauntered into Kacchan's domain, grabbing at his waist as soon as he was in arms reach. "I love you," he murmured, pushing up on his toes to kiss him.
"I love you too," Kacchan whispered back. "I'm sorry I let you think I didn't."
"Yeah, not cool," he chastised lightheartedly, nuzzling Kacchan's jaw gently. "We're working on it, though. We're not perfect."
Katsuki kissed him deeper, dipping him back against the counter. "Good," he replied, tone quiet and touch reverent. "Perfect's boring anyway."