Chapter Text
Izuku hadn’t meant for anyone to find out. He didn’t want his friends to look at him with pity, or as if he was something to suddenly coddle and take care of. He was a hero in training, for the gods’ sakes, and yet…
And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, and his chest always seemed to clench up and sink into itself at the worst possible times, and his thoughts began to race, and then his hands clench, and his jaw aches from how hard he gnashes his teeth together and he can’t think, he can’t think, he can’t, can’t—
The only thing that stops the all consuming panic is the box cutter he stole from the support workshop one day.
He had stopped by to check in on some repairs Hatsume was making to his suit, but he didn’t actually message her to meet up, he just wanted to drop by on his way to class. The workshop was empty.
He hadn’t… he hadn’t done anything since he started at U.A.. Classes kept him busy, and training with All Might and then Kacchan was taking up most of his time. Plus, the League of Villains seemed to always find them wherever Class 1-A went, so he never really had a minute to think about his original form of self-harm.
Plus, when your quirk breaks your bones and forces you into situations of brutalizing your body, it quickly takes over instead of using a blade of some kind.
That shock, that initial searing pain that would zing its way up through his fingers and around his forearms always did so much more in calming the never-ending spiral of panic inside his brain than the blades ever did.
But, alas. 1st year bled into the 2nd, and then the 3rd, and Izuku stopped breaking his bones; the quirk molded itself properly into his DNA, and he no longer was able to get that sick, twisted satisfaction of mutilating himself just to calm down the spiral of anxiety in his gut and brain.
Which was why when he realized that no one was in the workshop, and his eyes landed on the box of box-cutters; unassuming, flat silver casings with the blade tucked into a sliding handle within, he grabbed one without thinking and shoved it into his backpack.
His fingers were itching as he made his way back out into the hallway and down towards the 3-A classroom, his mind already turning and whirling with thoughts of how good it would feel, to finally, finally, have that blade on his skin again.
He almost skipped class. But, he didn’t, because he knew that Aizawa would be disappointed, and that his friends would eventually berate him and question him about his whereabouts; so he went into class and sat at his desk, ignoring the subtle weight inside the pocket of his Kånken book bag.
-
At lunch, Katsuki had noticed something was off about Izuku, because he kept looking at him through narrowed crimson eyes. They watched every movement of the greenet, and while their relationship was considerably better than it had been two years ago, they were still fumbling around each other like a couple of idiots.
The war had definitely changed things between them, in that rocky period between 1st year and the 2nd. After Katsuki had woken up from the botched surgery attempt by Best Jeanist and Edgeshot, Izuku had stayed close to the blond’s side. He almost never let the other out of his sight, and somehow Katsuki had let him. It was almost as if he needed Izuku just as close. They were significantly closer to each other now- bound by trauma and 100% dependent on the other- even if it was never explicitly said out loud.
Izuku had sat up a bit straighter when the blond sat down beside him at the cafeteria, sitting across from Shouto and diagonally from Uraraka; Iida was running late, his favorite salad bar was always busy at the beginning of the lunch period. “Hi, Kacchan.”
Izuku had gotten rice, just rice, today. He wasn’t hungry, his stomach knotting and unknotting at what was inside his backpack. He desperately wanted the school day to be over so he could go to his room and force himself to finally breathe, but the clock ticked by slowly, and it would be another two hours before the class got to go back to their dorm.
Katsuki grunted, his eyes breaking from Izuku’s face to look at the sad plastic bowl of white short-grained rice. “Haah?! Are you fuckin’ sick or something, D- ‘Zuku?!”
He was still struggling with rewriting his brain to not call Izuku ‘Deku’ outside of hero work. While Izuku had told the blond over and over again that he didn’t mind it now that they had patched up their friendship, Katsuki was adamant that he would only use it as a hero persona. There was too much weight on it right now for them to have that nickname passed around between them. Maybe one day they would go back to it, if they needed it, but Izuku had to admit in the back of his mind that he much preferred “‘Zuku” or “Izu” coming from Kacchan’s mouth.
Izuku startled when a hand waved in front of his face, red eyes now flat-out glaring at the greenet. He squawked slightly and quickly waved his hands in front of his body in dismissal, rushing to say “No! N-No, not at all, Kacchan, I’m okay! Promise! I’m just, ah- not hungry?”
It was meant to be a statement, but the inflection in his tone caused the sentence to evolve into a question by the end of it.
“Tch, you need to eat more than that, shithead. You’ll never grow if you don’t eat fuckin’ protein. And, your gods damned vegetables.” Katsuki added in the last sentence as a last-second thought, glaring at Izuku before huffing and splitting up his own portion of food to share between the two of them.
“Wah! Kacchan, you don’t have to do that! I’m seriously not—“
“Quit your fuckin’ yapping and eat!” Katsuki barked, sliding a small portion of grilled fish into Izuku’s bowl as well as some steamed vegetables. The fiery blond then grabbed some furikake seasoning from the table as well as the hot sauce, drenching his own serving with it, before adding a smaller amount to the greenet’s.
Izuku smiled weakly, nodding and whispering a soft “hai, Kacchan,” before picking up his chopsticks and beginning to eat the food he was given. The aggressive nature in which Katsuki had forced the food towards Izuku had soothed some of the roiling in his stomach, and he found himself able to finish the entire serving he was given as he talked with the small group of friends— plus Kacchan, of course.
Katsuki would never admit to being friends with Shouto and Uraraka, even if he spent more of his time at this table than with his own group of friends these days.
-
That evening, Izuku found himself back in his dorm. His back was pressed up against the side of his bed, his backpack thrown haphazardly beside him; unzipped and rifled through. He found the box cutter and held it in his right hand, letting the coolness of the silver casing sooth some of the anxious ramblings of his brain.
A part of him didn’t want to cut himself again.
He knew what it meant, reverting to an old habit and not actually seeking any sort of help or solace from it. He hadn’t healed. The war was rough on him, too rough, but it was also hard for his friends, his teachers, his family.. He couldn’t place that burden on them.
If they knew he was struggling, they’d feel guilty, and then it’d be like he was taking away from their pain and making them refocus their attention on helping him, and he couldn’t have that at all. Nobody should ever worry about him, he was fine. He could be a big boy and just… get over it himself.
No one had to know that he started cutting again.
His arms would be too obvious, so he couldn’t do it there. The new scarred tissue and mottled flesh from his constant breaks had hidden and almost covered up all of the old white scars from middle school, but they were still there; when it was winter time, and the air was a bit chilly, causing the stark white lines to raise against wind-chilled skin; when he was studying at his desk late at night, and the florescent bulb from his lamp illuminated them just right.
But he couldn’t add to there. People would notice, and he has too much control over his quirk to blame it on drawbacks, and he definitely doesn’t have a cat to blame the scratchy lines on.
Thighs were the next go-to, but they weren’t optimal. He uses his legs a lot when fighting, and the texture of Izuku’s hero suit wasn’t meant to be rubbed up against broken skin underneath it. But at the same time, the sting of the cuts on his thighs as he fought may keep him from cutting too often.
Only downside is he’d have to make sure that he did it underneath his boxers, so when he was in the locker room nobody would see them. Unless they were staring at him while he changed, but he was too plain for anyone to look at him that closely.
Except for, well, Kacchan, maybe. But they were rivals! He was always watching Izuku, and Izuku was always watching Katsuki. His reasons might be different from the blond’s, but still.
Shaking his head from his thoughts, Izuku huffed inwardly and awkwardly began to shuffle his sweatpants down over his legs, letting them rest at his ankles. He bent his legs at the knees as if to draw them up to his chest, but in reality he was just letting the fabric of his boxer’s loosen around his legs and scrunch up near his hip, allowing for a new sliver of skin to be exposed.
Taking a deep breath, Izuku pushed the bottom up the box cutter up, revealing the sharp edge of a brand new razor blade within it.
Absentmindedly, the back of his consciousness yelled at him to actually check the blade for signs of use, or to make sure it wasn’t secretly rusty. He should wipe it with an antiseptic or something. But the urge was too strong, and he just… didn’t care about those things. He just needed to feel it.
Just once, his brain whispered, his thoughts momentarily rolling to a stop as he brought the blade to his skin.
Once became twice, and then three times, and again, again, again, until Izuku had successfully calmed down his mind and felt himself feel at ease once again within his bedroom.
Wincing slightly, he sat there for a moment and watched as the initial tiny scratches against his skin bloomed and began to bead as blood welled to the surface of his thighs. He set aside the blade after properly sheathing it and clasped his hands around his leg, pulling and tugging on the skin around the mess of cuts to get the blood to well up faster. Feeling the drag and pull of the wounds made him feel more alive, more aware of his surroundings.
He felt normal again. And he also felt sick to his stomach over the fact that mutilating his own body made him feel normal.
Izuku began to pick himself up off the floor, stumbling a bit because of his sweatpants still wrapped around his ankles. He scoffed a small laugh at himself, mumbling a soft “dumb Deku” to himself. It had became a habit in his first year at U.A., when he was trying to find a way to make himself feel more confident about the nickname he had made his hero name. Calling himself ‘Deku’ and associating it more with his clumsiness and space cadet tendencies, he became slowly more comfortable with it.
Izuku stretched out his arms above his head as he stood up straight, hissing softly at the pull on his upper thighs before bending over to pull up his sweatpants. He grimaced at the feel of the fabric against his still bloody cuts, but he had to go to the communal bathroom in order to clean it off. He just hoped that they wouldn’t show through his sweats by the time he made it down there.
Glancing at the clock, Izuku grabbed his shower items and his towel, swinging it over his left shoulder before leaving his dorm to go down to the first floor boy’s bathroom.
The fabric rubbed against his cuts as he walked, and internally he winced at the raw pain radiating from his thighs. He definitely didn’t miss the afterwards pain of having to cover them up, but it was necessary.
He tried to hurry from the fourth floor to the first, but he ended up running into Sato and Ojiro, who wanted to ask him about their next planned weekend of baking.
During the spring of their second year, Sato had taken Izuku under his wing and began to slowly teach him how to bake. He still couldn’t cook a dish in order to save his life, but he could make a mean macaron, and those little french pastries were hard enough on their own. He’d leave the actual cooking of meals to Kacchan, thank you very much.
Izuku had tried to wean himself out of the conversation, but both boys were excited to plan their next baking afternoon, so the greenet found himself standing around for about twenty minutes trying to find a Saturday in their calendar that worked for all three of them, and try to plan what items they wanted to try baking.
Once they had officially settled on trying to make a new flavor of cookies Sato had seen on TikTok, and a spiced rum cake for Katsuki’s upcoming birthday, Izuku was off to the showers with a new pep in his step.
Not from the happiness of a light conversation (although that did make him feel a bit better overall), no, it was because he had managed to glance down and see that his light grey sweatpants were starting to stick to his upper thighs, and the fabric was darkening slightly from the blood seeping into it.
Shit!!!! Shit shit shit shit!, his mind supplied oh so helpfully as he practically sprinted down the stairs and past the common room. He didn’t even notice the people sitting on the couch, or the way a certain blond was watching him with calculating eyes.
He slammed open the bathroom door and immediately made a beeline for the first shower along the row, releasing a deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He was safe, and nobody had seen him.
Or so he thought.
-
Katsuki was in the common room, hanging out with the people he had reluctantly began to call his friends. Kirishima was lounging across one of the loveseats with Kaminari pressed up against the back of it while sitting on the floor in front of the redhead. Mina was laying across the other loveseat on her stomach, and Sero was perched next to Katsuki, Todoroki sat on the floor between his legs.
How that had happened, Katsuki didn’t even want to think about let alone acknowledge. Begrudgingly, though, he had to admit that they oddly fit together.
They were in the middle of a heated discussion on who had the best set of trading cards from a new game that had released. It was something kind of like Magic the Gathering, except with Heroes, and they were all deeply interested in it. It gave them a sense of normalcy to their every day lives, being able to focus on something so childish.
“I’m telling you man, obviously my Mt. Lady would crush your Eraserhead!” Kirishima cried, showing his card with all of the stats.
“Okay, firstly, fuck off, no she wouldn’t. Aizawa would literally just have to erase her quirk and then she’d be regular size, and his capture binds would have her encased in like point two seconds!” Mina rebutted, pushing herself up onto her elbows and tossing her ‘Eraserhead’ card over in Kirishima’s direction.
The two continued to bicker, barely even noticing the flash of green that raced by them and slammed into the bathroom, too engrossed in their argument.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and glared over at the door to the bathroom, watching it swing a few times before falling into its neutral state.
What was Izuku doing running to the bathrooms at 4 o’clock in the afternoon? They didn’t spar, their activities today had been super light and more focused on rehabilitation type movements to prevent longterm harm to their bodies, and the nerd didn’t even have training with All Might today.
Unless…
That little fucker was sneaking in extra workouts behind Katsuki’s back! He was still trying to one-up him and was now going around and hiding his new workouts so Katsuki wouldn’t suspect anything.
Without even thinking, the blond rose off of the couch and started to head toward the bathroom.
“Man, where’re you going?!” Kaminari yelled out, but Katsuki didn’t even hear him. He pushed into the bathroom and went into the shower stall that had water running, not even caring about personal space when he was going to confront Deku and ask him about these new secret trainings of his. He was also going to add on a long lecture about not spreading himself thin with training, running his body out before they can even become fucking pros.
The greenet was facing towards the spray of water, but instead of doing something normal like washing his hair or his body, his hands seemed to be moving… in front of him? Katsuki scrunched his nose up, leaning against the doorframe of the private shower stall and observing for a second.
Obviously, Izuku would never fucking get off in a public shower stall, not when he had his literal personal bedroom. And the nerd was always too shy about everything when it came to literally even breathing a word about human sexuality. So Katsuki knew this was something else.
The movements weren’t even similar to jacking off, he seemed to be rubbing at something on his legs.
Slowly, Katsuki crept forward into the stall. He wasn’t worried about Izuku finding him weird or getting mad at him. They’d done weirder shit together. Hell, they practically were glued to the other’s side right after the war when Katsuki woke up in the hospital. Izuku had stayed plastered to him, too afraid to even be in a separate hospital bed from the blond.
And Katsuki… well, he was relieved that he didn’t have to even ask for the dumb nerd to stay close. Every time Izuku was near him, the phantom pain within his chest subsided, and he could breathe a bit easier, could feel his heartbeat pound against his ribcage.
Izuku could withstand Katsuki suddenly appearing in his shower.
Like he said, they had weird habits like this, and this wouldn’t be the first time one of them had shown up to shower with the other out of necessity for closeness. There was nothing sexual about it, just the need to be near the other person, and know that they were alive.
Dying for someone, and then that someone going practically feral at the sight of said person dying for them really cemented that bond between two people. Go figure.
Deciding to make his sudden approach a little less concerning to the greenet, and knowing that he would be more confused at Katsuki showing up just standing there clothed, the blond was quick to remove his clothes and place them alongside Izuku’s on the bench just outside the shower stall.
Bracing himself, Katsuki reached out and shoved Izuku further into the spray, stepping in behind him and grabbing the younger boy’s shampoo, not even glancing at the other as he went to wash his hair.
Izuku squawked in surprise, his voice a much higher pitch than it usually was when they did this. “Waa- Kacchan! What’re you doing in here?! You said today was-”
“Hah?! What, can’t get a fuckin’ shower in without you yapping at me? You get out if you’re so nervous being close all of a sudden. Last time I checked, you were usually the one who joined me, Izu.”
Izuku was quick to turn his body completely away from the blond, which left him even more confused. He was never shy about his body, much more concerned with comforting the other or needing the comfort of Katsuki close by to care about things like modesty. That and they were both boys, it didn’t make sense for Izuku to suddenly start closing himself off and refusing to turn towards him.
“Hey. Zuku,” Katsuki tried again a few moments later, after rinsing the pine scented shampoo from his hair. He reached out with his elbow to nudge at the greenet, but he didn’t budge, still curled into himself and shoving his front into the corner of the stall. “Izuku, look at me. You’ve never had any problems with this before, so what’s going on now? I thought…” Katsuki trailed off, trying to swallow down the rolling sensation forming in his stomach.
Izuku was never this closed off from him, not since the war, not since… everything that had happened between them. He was hiding something, and Katsuki needed to know what it was.
“I thought we were okay-“
“We are okay! I just, I just need to shower alone today, okay? I-I’m sorry,” Izuku forced out, his hands coming up to wrap around his face like they usually did, and Katsuki watched as he tried to squish himself even further into the corner. He still refused to look at the blond, and that was beginning to piss him off.
Now, Katsuki had worked a lot on his anger over the years, especially when it came to the little dweeb Izuku. His therapist was actually quite proud of his progress, and he was finally coming to terms with the fact that his aggression towards Izuku was a mix of self-hatred and internalized homophobia. Pair that with an inflated ego and skewed sense of self-righteousness fueled by his family and the society he grew up in, it was basically a molotov cocktail for the blond’s brain to work around.
Lips raised into a snarl, Katsuki looked down at the floor as he tried to think about how to go about this without yelling. He stared at the drain for a few seconds trying to formulate a plan about how to get Izuku to lower his walls when he noticed it. A trail of murky water, stemming from Izuku’s feet.
Blood, his brain supplied. That stupid little shit got hurt while training, and that just reminded Katsuki of why he came here in the first place! Little nerd thinks he can train without him and then act all skittish as if they haven’t been practically stapled to the other for the past six months.
Katsuki was quick to grasp Izuku by the shoulders, spinning him around and pinning him back against the shower wall. “You dumbass! Did you get hurt today when you were off doing your little secret training?! Think you can still surpass me, asshole? We’re supposed to be doing this shit toge-…”
Katsuki trailed off when he saw how broken Izuku’s face looked. His brows were drawn together and his lips were set in a grim line, but his bottom lip wobbled as if he was trying to hold back his tears. Katsuki looked down to start searching for where the blood came from, trying to keep his touches light as he started at Izuku’s arms and waist before his gaze went further, and then he saw them.
Twenty or thirty cuts were along the tops of Izuku’s thighs, and they were… deep. Worse than Katsuki thought he’d ever seen before. What kind of shit was this idiot doing to himself while training?
Now, Katsuki’s not stupid, but he also had never been exposed to self harm tactics. He knew that Izuku had no sense of self-preservation, which meant that the blond had to have enough for the both of them, but he also knew that this, this wasn’t something that was an accident or a fuck up during training. The cuts were too precise, too thin and measured to be anything other than something that was deliberately placed on Izuku’s skin.
A thought immediately came into his mind that someone else had done this to the little greenet, and he was too nervous to tell anyone. Someone who had taken Katsuki’s place and decided to pick back up on bullying the smaller male, and as red eyes met tearful green, he knew exactly who was doing it.
The regret, pain, embarrassment, and shame clouding over emerald eyes gave away all the information Katsuki needed.
Izuku did this to himself.
“…” Katsuki couldn’t even think of what to say, or how to comfort Izuku and let him know that he was going to be okay. He always did better with actions instead of words. So he did the only thing that made sense in his currently muddled mind.
He moved his hands slowly back to Izuku’s shoulders and gently tugged him further into the shower spray. He turned the boy back away from him and grabbed Izuku’s red loofah and lathered it up with his body wash, gently running it across the boy’s shoulders and back. The strong smell of Tea Tree oil filled the tiny stall, and Izuku let out a shaky breath as the cool scent filled his lungs. Katsuki was gentle with every movement, more than he’d ever been in his life towards anyone, including himself.
Soft hiccups and sobs could he heard underneath the spray of water, but Izuku was silent other than his cries, and he was practically putty for Katsuki. Despite the initial reproach, once he understood that Katsuki wasn’t upset or mad at him, he was quick to melt into the blond and allow him to show him what he felt through actions instead of words.
Once Izuku was completely clean from the back, Katsuki took a deep breath and steeled himself before placing one hand on Izuku’s waist and gently shifting him to turn around once again. He kept that touch there while he began to move the loofah over Izuku’s arms, chest and torso, being careful to not touch his legs yet. He needed to ask permission for that, but he wasn’t ready to speak yet. By the way Izuku’s shoulders were tense despite his eyes being closed, he wasn’t ready either.
Clenching his jaw, Katsuki dropped the loofah to the floor once he was done sudsing up every inch of Izuku minus his legs. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and cupping Izuku’s face in his hands, bringing his forehead down to rest against the others. Curly green hair tickled his nose and pressed against his eyes, but he didn’t mind when he heard the soft sigh of relief come from the other.
“It’s okay,” Katsuki murmured, lips raising to graze across those same curls as he spoke. “It’ll be okay, ‘Zuku, I promise.”
Allowing himself a moment of lowering his guard, he pressed a soft kiss to Izuku’s forehead before dropping to his knees in front of the greenet.
“Kacchan, I c-..can-“
“No.” Katsuki stated firmly, grabbing the body wash again and lathering it up in his hands instead of the loofah. The texture of the sponge would be way too harsh for the fresh cuts on Izuku’s skin, and while it was definitely a new territory of closeness for them, he wasn’t nervous. Katsuki needed to do this as much as Izuku needed to let himself be cared for. He needed to prove that he could be gentle, and that Izuku was deserving of soft touches and someone to help him without expecting anything.
Katsuki looked up and met the greenet’s gaze, a soft twitch of his mouth lifting one side when he saw just how red the man’s face was. His curls were a halo around his face as he looked down at Katsuki, an almost reverent look to his face. They held their eye contact as Katsuki braced himself before slowly beginning to use his hands to wipe the soap onto Izuku’s legs.
Okay, look. Katsuki knows what this looks like. He’s on his knees in front of his childhood best friend basically giving his fucking thighs a massage and trying to make sure he doesn’t hurt the cuts any further as he cleans them. And they’re in the… the fucking shower, oh fuck, Katsuki’s gonna have an aneurism, as the realization settles into the forefront of his mind. What is he doing?
Shaking his head slightly, Katsuki refocuses on his task, breaking his gaze from Izuku’s and clearing his throat as he slid his hands from the front of Izuku’s thighs to around the back, only slightly gripping the skin just underneath the greenet’s ass. Look, Katsuki’s gay and Izuku has a nice ass despite what is currently happening between them, fuckin’ argue with a wall if you wanna cry about the morality of it.
A choked gasp could heard from above the blond and he looked up just in time to see Izuku’s blushing face get covered by one his hands, jerking his face to the side so he doesn’t have to watch the scene below him. Katsuki realizes just why Izuku is suddenly panicked when he notices how the once soft cock that was just below his chin was half hard.
Fuck, not the time, Katsuki. Reel it in.
“’S okay, ’s normal,” the blond muttered, sliding his hands down the backs of Izuku’s thighs and returning the soothing circles he was rubbing towards the sides of the greenet’s knees. He trailed down to the calves and continued his small massage, trying his best to keep his eyes on the legs in front of him - or the fucking shower floor, the wall, literally anything so he could ignore the growing hard-on below him.
Everything in his mind was screaming about how this was definitely bordering on something friends do not do, and his mind had a rolling thought process of Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect 200 Dollars. Do NOT Suck Your Childhood Friend-Turned-Victim-Turned-Rival-Turned-Whatever-the-Fuck’s Cock on loop practically, drowning out the rising level of arousal within the pit of his stomach. This is so not the time, Bakugou Katsuki. Especially not when he just found out the nerd is cutting himself. Seriously, the cuts were just now turning an aggravated pinkish-red in the water, the blood finally washed away and no longer steadily flowing or pooling at the skin. It’s not the time.
But… Katsuki did say that he wanted to take care of Izuku. And the dumb nerd is hard, so… it wouldn’t hurt to at least try, right?
“Hey, Izu.”
“H-Hmm?” Izuku reluctantly brought his gaze back down to Katsuki when the blond didn’t respond, his hands clenched into fists by his side.
“Lean your back against the shower wall.”
“Um… What?”
“Fuckin’ brace yourself, idiot. I’m not repeatin’ myself.”
“Okay! Okay, sorry.” Izuku huffed, his normal attitude returning a bit by their usual banter.
Katsuki grinned, putting his canines on display as he watched Izuku settled himself. The blond moved his hands to grip the smaller man’s ankles as he leaned back, so his body was angled and his hips were jutted out.
“Kacchan…” Izuku started, his hands pressed flat against the wall as he watched Katsuki’s every movement with wide eyes, emerald glazing over slightly with realization.
“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now keep quiet,” Katsuki hummed before leaning down slightly and running his tongue from base to tip on Izuku’s cock.
Izuku’s crooked fingers immediately found their way into Katsuki’s mess of blond hair, gripping slightly as a shuddering breath left his mouth. “K-Kacchan! What’re you doi-?” He cut himself off with a moan when Katsuki began to take his cock into his mouth, sucking softly on the crown and flicking his tongue along the underside of his slit slowly.
Katsuki slowly pulled back with a soft pop, looking up at Izuku with a deadly serious gaze. “I’m sucking your dick to take your mind off of that,” his hand raised from Izuku’s ankle to gesture vaguely towards the greenet’s thighs. He paused slightly and moved to run his hand down the side of Izuku’s leg in what was hopefully a soothing manner, his fingers just slightly gripping the slick skin. “Is that… that okay?”
Izuku went stock still, and Katsuki watched in silent amusement as he watched the little nerd visibly stumble over several thought processes at once. His brain was so overloaded that he began to mumble while he worked through his decision. Katsuki just smiled softly to himself and sat back on his haunches, allowing Izuku to work through it on his own time. He’d do whatever his best friend decided, even if that meant stopping.
This was about Izuku, not him. Not right now.
“… Kacchan wants to do that? I mean, obviously, considering he just.. but.. I mean it felt good, and Kacchan’s so pretty-“ Katsuki choked slightly when he caught that one, running a hand down his face to hide the blush forming on his cheeks and ears.
Alright this is getting excessive. He’s gotta nip this in the bud quick or else the praise is going to start going to his other head.
“Oi, the shower’s gonna run cold before you finish your thought process,” Katsuki started, pushing himself back up to stand. “How about this option, okay? I’m gonna step out and go back to my room. I’ll grab you some clothes while you finish up here, considering your sweats definitely have blood stains and you shouldn’t put them back on.” His hands had moved to rest on Izuku’s waist, trying to keep the touch casual and act like he wasn’t screaming internally at the idea of touching Izuku willingly and intimately. “I’ll bring you the clothes and then we can go to either your room or mine, and we can do whatever you want. Blowjob definitely still stands, or we can watch a movie, I can make food; Whatever you want.”
“Why?” Izuku looked up at him, eyes wide and a bit untrusting, like he thought Katsuki was just doing this for shits and giggles. It was almost like the greenet was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if Katsuki would begin sucking the other’s dick only to pull away and go “haha, psych, you fag”.
Katsuki gave Izuku a deadpan look as if to say ‘seriously?’ before huffing and flicking his gaze towards the shower head. “You dumbass, do you really think it’s so surprising for me to actively care about you? Still? After all this time?”
“N-no! Not that, not like the generic caring stuff. I-I get that, I meant the… the- um..” Izuku’s face was bright red as he reached behind him to shut off the shower, shivering a bit as the temperature began to regulate.
“The wanting to put your cock in my mouth part?” It was too easy to tease, and Katsuki wanted to also show Izuku that they were okay and things were still normal between them. He laughed softly at the choking sound from Izuku. “Yeah, I want to do that. And not just because you got a semi while I helped you. It’s not out of pity, or because I feel like you want me to; none of that shit. I just… really want to. So, will you let me? Once we go back to one of our rooms?”
Izuku let out a small yelp in response, his gaze zeroed in on the tiles of the shower wall while he nodded once in a jerky motion.
“Alright then. Let me go grab you some clothes-“
“I don’t want to wait for you to come back. I can wear my sweats again, it’s not a big deal a-and we can um.. we can go to my room, it’s closer..” Izuku carefully sidestepped around Katsuki’s body in order to move into the dressing area.
Katsuki stood in stunned silence before shaking his head briefly and following the greenet. Nobody had come into the restroom, and Katsuki wasn’t a shy person, so he allowed Izuku to stay in the private dressing section while he stepped out into the rest of the bathroom in order to change.
Once they were both situated, Katsuki helped Izuku pack up his shower things silently. He held the caddie in one hand and the larger towel of Izuku’s in the other, gently swatting the younger boy out of the bathroom and into the common room.
“C’mon, nerd. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?” Katsuki grinned when he saw the small smile on Izuku’s face, internally adding a tally to his mental chalkboard that kept a metaphorical track on Katsuki’s success in cheering up the nerd.
Katsuki: 1, Depression: 0.
Okay, well maybe ‘depression’ had more like 1000 points, but a man could dream, alright? Right now he’s winning in lifting his best friend’s mood, and that’s all he cares about.
The two boys made their way up to Izuku’s dorm, still not really keeping an active conversation between them. There wasn’t much to say, especially not in public, considering what they were about to do.
Was Katsuki really going to do this? Going from trauma bonding and making sure your childhood-friend-turned-rival-turned-sort-of-friend-turned-crush is okay after discovering he cuts himself to ’Oh, let me suck your dick to make you feel better’ was definitely not on the blond’s figurative bingo card for the year of their lord and savior All Might. But, when Katsuki looked over at Izuku in the elevator and saw a dull sparkle return to those emerald eyes he loved so much, the blond couldn’t help himself but to smile.
Hold on. Pause.
Love?
Huh. So that’s what it was.
Even if Izuku didn’t reciprocate these types of feelings, that didn’t impact Katsuki’s decision. This was just another level to add onto their ‘weird habits’ or whatever. They had a mutual understanding between the two of them that what they were couldn’t be called just friends.
They were together, even if it wasn’t romantic all the time, and the weird butterflies in the stomach didn’t really occur unless it was late at night. More than friends but less than lovers.
This wouldn’t break them apart, Katsuki nor Izuku would let it. They’d be okay.
So, yeah. Katsuki was doing this.