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“Kacchan.”
A noncommittal grunt.
Again, hushed and insisting. “Kacchan—”
Katsuki groaned and removed his head from his locker, where he’d been trying to drown himself. “What, nerd.”
Izuku was bright red, but the shit head was always some variation of flustered, so Katsuki needed to know quickly whether whatever this was was worth interrupting his regularly scheduled teenage wallowing. He was a healthy 14 year old. Sometimes, he angsted.
Izuku flustered and scuffed his shoe on the floor, hands twisting behind his back, and cleared his throat pointedly.
Oh.
Yeah, alright.
Katsuki heaved a put-upon sigh and dragged Izuku into an empty classroom by the collar, making a show of banging the door shut so any straying onlookers would know to stay away.
“What,” Katsuki said, crossing his arms.
They’d been doing this for a while now— being friends, like they used to. Katsuki didn’t give a shit what their classmates thought of him, but staying a shithead seemed to keep people away from him— them— so he didn’t try to change his behaviour on any larger of a scale than solely with Izuku. He didn’t fucking want to, anyway, other than with Izuku.
No one else had stupid giant fucking bambi eyes always seeming to plead with him or dumb cherub cheeks begging to be pinched or a bleeding heart that needed someone like Katsuki to stifle it lest it drown him.
And it was— nice, honestly, to be friends with Deku, poke and tease and play games like they had when they were small. Deku never failed to wake something up inside of Katsuki, something bright and vivid and alive, simply by being around. Sometimes without even being around.
Even if he was dumb as shit. Currently, Izuku was fiddling with the buttons of his gakuran, and jumped when Katsuki slapped his hands away.
He could have just told the dweeb to stop, but— for reasons Katsuki would not be looking into, he liked skinship with Deku. Liked having the right. The sole right, even if he had no proof of it, other than every time he casually put his hands on him.
Childhood friends, he could justify in his head to imaginary questioners. His childhood friend.
“Kacchan, I, um. Um! Havesomethingforyou,” Izuku managed, bright pink, fingers fiddling with his bag now that his clothes were out of bounds. He looked two seconds away from passing out.
Katsuki grunted.
Unaffected, Izuku swung his backpack around to dig through it, occasionally glancing up at Katsuki through his eyelashes somewhat shyly, getting redder and redder each time, and Katsuki needed him to hurry up before he did something stupid like blow up a desk to quell the urge to squash his little face in his palms and do— something.
Izuku paused, staring into his bag with both hands inside, clearly holding something. He looked up at Katsuki.
“Actually, Kacchan, um— nevermind.”
Oh, for the love of— “Deku. Fucking show me.” He never lost his nerve usually, what was wrong with him today?
Izuku looked like he was about to cry, he was blushing so hard. “I’m just a little scared Kacchan will be mad. And…” his voice trailed off, mumbling something incomprehensible.
Katsuki stepped up closer, and Izuku stepped back, now almost sitting on the desk behind him. Interesting. “Speak up.”
Izuku set his jaw, face pink but violent blush receding some. “I don’t want Kacchan to think I’m gross,” he said faintly, but steadily.
“I already think you’re gross, shithead,” Katsuki replied easily, tracing the line of Izuku’s blush over his freckles with his eyes. Curiosity brimmed up his throat, and his voice gentled, against his will. “I’m not gonna make fun of you. Promise.”
That made Izuku grow more flustered, for some reason, but the boy nodded once, stiffly, and lifted his hands out of his bag to shove something pink into Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki looked down, catching it automatically.
Chocolates.
Chocolates?
Katsuki blinked at the box in his hands. He looked up, blinked down at Izuku, for once speechless.
“Nn!” Izuku squeaked at a heretofore unheard-of register. His green eyes darted between the box of chocolates and Katsuki’s face. “Kacchan, I! I… hm…”
His face reddened steadily, stealing his voice away. Katsuki took pity on him.
“You like me?” Katsuki asked, and then the words registered in his own head. He grinned slowly, delighted. “Little nerd got a crush?”
Izuku’s brow furrowed adorably. “You said you wouldn’t make fun, Kacchan!”
“I’m not,” Katsuki defended, lying. “I’m just clarifying.”
Izuku scowled at him a little, which was funny, because he nodded anyway. Katsuki heart did a funny little jump in his chest.
“Really?” Katsuki asked, all at once forgetting to tease. He didn’t mean for the word to come out so bare, and now he felt vulnerable, but he couldn’t quite control the way his face had gone slack and eyes a bit wide.
Izuku nodded miserably, mouth a wobbly line. He met Katsuki’s gaze head on, because he was a brave little dork, and because apparently he was just made for Katsuki.
Fuck, he looked so cute.
Repressed memories of heart-racing dreams and achy nights came back in full force in the span of ten seconds, and Katsuki clenched his jaw stubbornly. Fuck. He needed to control himself. If he started cheering or blew up the chocolates or something, Izuku wouldn’t think he was cool anymore.
He cleared his throat. “Cool. Um. Me too.”
Izuku blinked at him, still pink, uncomprehending. His eyes took up like half his face, what the fuck.
Godammit.
Katsuki set the box down carefully and squished Izuku’s cheeks in both hands before he kissed him, just once, a quick peck on the lips.
Katsuki drew back quickly, burning.
Izuku blinked dazedly at him some more, making his eyelashes flutter, and if he was repeating behaviour to try and get Katsuki to kiss him again, by god was it working.
“Kacchan likes me?” Izuku mumbled under his breath, likely to himself. His eyes were glazed over.
“Yeah,” Katsuki said roughly, because if Izuku could admit it then so the fuck could he.
Izuku’s entire face lifted, like someone had flicked on a light behind it. “Kacchan likes me?!” He repeated, hushed and delighted. The line of his mouth was trembling again, this time from excitement, repressing an even wider smile.
Katsuki groaned and drew the smaller boy into a hug, hiding that damn face in his chest so he didn’t have to see it and force himself not to kiss it like a maniac.
“Yeah, nerd.” Katsuki paused. Uh. “Go out with me.”
Izuku stiffened in his arms, then tipped his face up, chin digging into Katsuki’s sternum. “Really?” he gasped through a smile, happy and giggly.
Katsuki squeezed him tighter involuntarily. “Yes,” he managed, strained, and then gave in to the need to shove his face in Izuku’s baby-soft curls. Izuku hummed and hugged him back, pressing his beaming smile into Katsuki’s gakuran.
“I’m so happy, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, and Katsuki held him close, hiding his own smile into Izuku’s hair.
“Still gross,” he added, just to hear Deku laugh, and the ensuing giggles lit him up from the inside out.