Katsuki finds him after patrol in his old spot. His very old spot, from decades ago.
Izuku is curled up in a plastic tunnel, hand on his chin and muttering to himself as he scribbles, completely tuned out from the sounds of happy kids running around their old playground.
It’s a painfully familiar sight, and Katsuki closes his eyes briefly at the pang in his chest as he sees, for one vivid moment, a four year old Deku sitting in the same red circle, with so much more space for his limbs, yet still equally curled into himself and his notebook.
(Chubbier, freckled limbs in shorts and baby cotton, a mess of curls because Izuku loved to stick his hand in his hair while he thought. And he thought a lot, child of wonder, precious to the stars, the son of fate. Future hero of their time.)
thinking about bkdk kissing… deku is so /hungry/ for kisses, once he gets a taste he turns so helplessly greedy, needy, like his mouth feels empty without the movement of a kiss filling it… deku going dizzy and lightheaded from not coming up for air because he needs more, more,
thanks to toni I can’t stop imagining deku trembling and panting and panting and leaning in over and over and katsuki pulling back and laughing a hushed little thing, telling him to remember to breathe, but he can’t, he can’t think, he needs kisses, he needs to be kissing kacchan
Izuku looked up from peeking over the roof railing to wave at civilians below. “Hm?”
Katsuki dragged him back with one hand, and Izuku went easily.
“You like chocolate?” Kacchan asked consideringly, eyeing him as he dug through the box in his hands.
Izuku glanced at it. Kacchan had been handed a lot of chocolate today by giddy fans bursting with adrenaline at daring to come up to the terrifying and horribly sexy Dynamight.
Deku had received his share of chocolate too, but it had been quite the experience, to watch Kacchan in his first year as an official pro hero prove how he’d learned patience and a smidgen of PR.
Izuku liked the way Kacchan’s name fit in his mouth. Liked the way it filled the space, settled between his gums and over his tongue like a full bite of something fluffy and delicious.
He liked the way it found its way there naturally, a spontaneous expansion behind his lips simultaneous with the buoyant excitement that filled his chest whenever he saw him.
/Kacchan/, his subconscious would point out, /Kacchan/, his heart would cheer, “Kacchan!” his mouth would declare happily, before his brain even caught up to the observation.
#bkdk It’s third year, and Katsuki and Izuku are… good. Really, truly, good.
It’s something of a shock to Katsuki, every so often, when he takes a moment to think about how he and Izuku are /friends/ now. The realization hits him like a blow to the chest every time,
the knowledge sweet and cool like a drink on a hot day. A relief, one he gets to enjoy all over again every time he takes a step back and lets himself get reacquainted with it. With the fact that he is Izuku’s closest person, and Izuku is his, and they both know it.
Everyone knows it.
The giddy re-realization hits him as such, for the millionth time, as the two of them sit just outside the UA dorms, homework on their laps and backs to the cement walls.