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In hindsight, maybe this was a stupid decision.
Katsuki had known, just like everyone else in the damn world, that he’s not exactly built for search and rescue work. His quirk is heavy duty, big moves and even bigger explosions, and it’s not like he’s known for his bedside manner. He’s abrasive at his best and an asshole at his worst, but what he lacks in friendliness he makes up in strategy and dedication. If he’s going to be the best hero - and he is going to be the best hero - he has to work in S & R too. The point of being a hero is saving lives.
Admittedly, it’s incredibly embarrassing when it’s his life needing to be saved. You’d think, what with the decade of training, he’d be able to withstand a wimpy storm - he took down the League of Villains, for fuck’s sake - but here he is, fingers nearly numb from the cold, shivering in despite his impossibly warm winter gear, feet heavy and hard to move. Maybe this storm isn’t so wimpy, anyways: the weather reports were saying this would be the worst storm Japan had seen for thirty years. A small town a hair’s breadth from the top of Mount Aino was devastated and in need of immediate evacuation, so naturally, Japan’s top heroes came to the rescue.
More accurately, the most popular hero was called in, and brought his agency along for the ride: one Izuku Midoriya.
Iida was placed in charge of the mission from the ground, taking in all the rescues and connecting to the rest of the team through his communications device. Uraraka and Kirishima were assigned to the town itself, combining their abilities to dislodge as much debris as possible to free its inhabitants, alongside Jiro, who used her quirk to seek out anyone lodged under the rubble, and Todoroki, who’d been roped into acting as a mobile furnace. Naturally, Katsuki was assigned with his hero partner, and the, as Iida still called them, House Arrest Boys took to the outskirts of town, where the avalanche had started, to locate any survivors. The plan had been well-designed, curated by Iida and Izuku to fit everyone’s skills, and at first, it seemed fool-proof. Things were going well; within the first hour, more than a dozen townspeople were pulled from the rubble and brought to safety. Things started getting questionable when the wind picked up.
“Come in for Hero Dynamight,” Iida’s voice crackles through the radio transceiver.
“Go for Murder God,” says Katsuki, a little bored. He and Izuku had been wandering the wooded area with no sign of life - or even death, for that matter. No bodies, which he supposes is a good thing, but no people either, no footprints or otherwise disturbed snow, no movement in the trees - fucking nothing.
Iida sighs and even through the sputtering microphone, Katsuki can hear the way he narrows his eyes and furrows his brow. “Bakugo, take this seriously. People’s lives are at stake, including you and Midoriya!”
“Whatever, Glasses, what the hell do you want?”
“Is Hero Deku in your LOS?”
“Affirmative,” Katsuki replies. Izuku is standing less than six feet away and turns to wave, confirming he can hear the conversation. “He’s tuned in.”
“10-13, the storm’s been exacerbated by a local’s quirk, who creates great gusts of wind, similar to Gale Force. He’s too young to properly control his quirk and he was startled by a falling tree. You need to take shelter now. His wind storms can last hours and given the unstable conditions of the mountain, I’m not sure you can make it back to base safely at this time. Over.”
Izuku’s eyes are wide with fear, but his face is hardened from years of heroics. He nods, a stoic, determined thing, and uses his radio to say, “Copy that, Ingenium. We’ll radio back once we find somewhere safe.”
“I guess we call it here, then?” Izuku says. “We didn’t find anybody, which worries me, but it’s possible everyone’s gotten out. We’ll have to wait for a headcount and return for bodies, I suppose. God, that’s the worst. I wish this weren’t the case. If we see anyone, we can bring them to shelter with us, of course. Let’s look as we go, then. I’m sure we have a few more minutes to make it to the top of the path.”
Unfortunately, Izuku’s plans are shot down when a tree goes tumbling with an insurmountably large gust of wind at fault. It knocks Izuku over too, and Katsuki stumbles even though he’d had a second to brace himself. “Shit,” he says, and scrambles to Izuku, hauling him to his feet and dragging him through the thick snow towards the nearest house. “No more looking. Iida is right, it’s not safe. You’ll get pancaked if you’re out here any longer.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku argues, but is promptly ignored. His wrist is wrapped in Katsuki’s steel grip and his other hand reaches up to grab Katsuki’s arm for balance.
The abandoned house is 500 feet away, maybe less, just barely out of sight due to the downfall. Katsuki knows just how to reach it, knows to march forward through the unstoppable wind and knows the door will be to the left. The roof isn’t caved in, the house being far enough from the avalanche to survive the damage; the problem is the lack of water, heat, and power, which is why the town was evacuated to a safer location until the storm passes. Katsuki and Izuki won’t have that same luxury.
They’re walking against the wind. In their 500 feet journey, Izuku trips again and probably sprains his ankle, and Katsuki is absolutely fucking drenched from shoulder-checking a tree that dumps a pound of snow on his head. When they finally swing the door open, they both collapse to the ground, thoroughly exhausted and completely out of breath. Izuku, through puffs of air, radios the team to say, “Took shelter. Over.”
“10-4. Deku, Dynamight we’ll be in touch shortly. Over and out.”
On their backs, laying at the ceiling and breathing heavily, Katsuki and Izuku both let out a heavy sigh. “Fuck, it’s cold,” says Katsuki. “Shit.”
His hands are blue. He hadn’t noticed.
“Oh, fuck,” says Izuku, a rarity to hear from his lips. “Fuck. Take off your clothes, quickly.”
“Eh?” Katsuki shouts, whipping his head to see Izuku hobbling further into the house. He stands, too, though the blood rushes to his head and he is immediately dizzy.
“Your clothes are wet, it’s only making you colder. I’ll find you something warm, but strip and sit by the stove.”
There were a lot of different ways Katsuki imagined Izuku telling him to get naked. A shy let me see you, with a polite please or a confident take it off, maybe his big hands combing through Katsuki’s hair or feeling up his chest. But never had Katsuki imagined this, something so clinical, and it is far more embarrassing. Izuku probably has no idea about Katsuki’s inner turmoil as he limps about, collecting blankets and towels.
The choice Katsuki makes is to compromise. He takes off his outer layers and strips all the way down to his briefs and the tank top he wears beneath his suit, which he tries failingly to shrink into. When Izuku returns, carrying a stack of fabrics so high it’s like a cartoon character with their head stuck in the cotton, he unceremoniously drops all he’s found onto Katsuki’s lap.
“Are these wet?” he says, and instead of waiting for the answer, reaches out to feel Katsuki’s clothes. “Too damp. I’m sorry, Kacchan, you gotta take it off. I don’t want you to get hypothermic. You can leave your shorts on, though. But feel the neckline, it’s wet.” He drags his fingers across Katsuki’s collarbone in a way that makes him want to tear his skin off. Instead, he pushes Izuku off and rips the shirt from his body. Without hesitation, Izuku begins wrapping the fluffiest blanket around Katsuki’s shoulders and continues, blanket and towel and sheet and more, until he is physically unable to move his arms.
“This feels like overkill,” Katsuki mumbles, voice muffled a little by the scarf around his head. “And where are your blankets? You’ll get cold and die and then I’ll have to deal with a corpse.”
Izuku laughs. “One For All makes my body very hot. As long as I’m constantly keeping my quirk in use at a low percentage, I think I’m immune to hypothermia. Once you’re warm enough, I’ll take some of the layers off for myself.”
There isn’t much room to argue with that, Katsuki figures, though he certainly wishes there were.
Minutes pass while Katsuki just sits, listening to Izuku as he wanders through the house, reportedly looking to see if there was a fireplace they could use. He finds one in a bedroom near the westernmost wall of the house, which he explains to Katsuki as he pushes the man towards it that it’s the best spot for them anyway since it’s least affected by the wind due to the direction of the storm. Katsuki is not listening, he’ll admit, because his stack of blankets have largely restricted his movement so one of Izuku’s hands, big and scarred, is on his shoulder, directly touching the bare skin of his neck with an extended index finger, and the other is gripping his waist with a tight hold. His eyes close, back pressed up against the wooden board at the end of the bed and neck aching from how it flops.
By the time Katsuki wakes again, Izuku is drooling on his shoulder and leaving a wet spot on the blanket. He’s so warm his skin is moist and clammy, which means he’s a flammable dude sitting next to a raging fire, so he nudges Izuku until the man beside him groans and curls up closer. “Izuku,” he says, trying not to laugh. “I’m hot.”
“Yeah,” Izuku agrees, then startles and sits up. “Oh, you - you mean. Okay.” He starts peeling the intricate knot of blankets off from Katsuki’s skin now sticky with sweat. “Well, good! You’re not hypothermic, then, so that’s great. One problem solved!”
Katsuki hums. “Now what?”
When Izuku shrugs, his arm touches Katsuki’s bare skin, and a million thoughts run through his head, all of which are completely inappropriate and probably illegal to even say aloud. “Iida said over the comms about half an hour ago that they’ll come for us at first light. And since it’s barely sunset, I think we have plenty of time to waste.”
“Damn,” he replies. “What, 12 hours? Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Izuku agrees. After a beat, he says. “I have an idea. But, you’re not gonna like it.”
Katsuki narrows his eyes as he looks down at the freckled grin. “What?” he asks, voice low and suspicious.
“I found this-” Izuku pulls out a half-full bottle of vodka from his other side, which Katsuki had miraculously not seen before- “when I was looking for blankets. I grabbed it in case you had some secret hidden cuts, and, well. We’re gonna be here all night. Could make it fun, like high school.”
Like high school. In third year, they had one party to celebrate winning the war, got incredibly drunk and cried about their feelings before someone (reportedly Iida, though Katsuki thinks he’s covering for someone) caved and told Aizawa about the liquor and they were all sent to Recovery Girl to sober up. It was not fun , and Izuku knows that too, because he had to get tucked into bed by his mentor and still has nightmares about All Might and his mother telling him they’re disappointed in him for drinking.
“You are an idiot,” he says. “We’re on duty, you fucking - are you serious? What if something happens, and we’re drunk?”
“We’re actually not on duty, Iida said that now, we’re the civilians they’re rescuing. Which means if something happened, it wouldn’t be our problem. Plus, it’s not like there’s villains, it’s a winter storm, and according to the team, the winds aren’t dying down anytime soon, but they won’t get any worse. We have all night. We could just sleep, I guess, if you really wanted.”
Katsuki is silent, eying the bottle with the same sort of glare you’d steer towards a man with a pointed gun. Like he’s been possessed, he swoops out and grabs it from Izuku’s loose grip, twisting the cap and taking a swig. It burns, and he grimaces. “Fuck. Ew.”
Izuku laughs. “Wait, I’m going to grab us some carbs and water. So we don’t get sick. We’ll leave a note saying sorry.” He scampers off and Katsuki takes another sip, despite the instant regret.
“Never have I ever,” Izuku says, a good three-shots-worth of vodka later, “accidentally dyed my hair pink.”
Katsuki blinks at him. “What is wrong with you? That’s the most bullshit targeted thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t even play this game with two people, you moron.”
“Well, we’re gonna. Your turn.”
“Never have I ever told Mineta to kill himself.”
“Wa-acchan!”
“Never have I ever had a wet dream about a classmate,” Izuku says.
Katsuki takes a sip. He adamantly does not think about which classmate it was about. “I’m surprised you haven’t, though. Since you’re a stalker, I mean.”
“Hey!” Izuku cries and kicks Katsuki. “I don’t even really have dreams anyway. Side effect of One For All. Wait, who did you - I didn’t think you had a crush on anyone at school. I didn’t think you had a crush on anyone ever, actually.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the questionably warm tap water Izuku brought him. “I don’t have crushes. But I guess I - yeah. I liked someone.”
“Who!” Izuku squawks. “Was it Kirishima? There was always something between you two, and Shouto had this whole theory -”
“Okay, no ,” Katsuki barks. “Ew. Shitty Hair? What’s wrong with you and Halfie, you idiots, fuck. No, it - it doesn’t matter, shut up.”
“Kacchan,” he whines. “I won’t tell anyone. You know I’m good at secrets.”
“You told me about All Might’s quirk the day you got it.”
He pokes Katsuki between the ribs hard enough it actually hurts. “That’s totally different. That’s you. I never keep stuff from you.”
It makes him preen, a little, feeling so special under Izuku’s watchful eye. He says, drunk and red and hit with a sudden blast of something very warm in his chest, “Ugh. It was you , genius.”
Things are uncomfortably - deeply uncomfortably - quiet. Like if a butterfly flapped her wings, Katsuki could tell you where with his eyes closed. Even the wind outside seemed to vanish in this rock hard, heavy silence.
“Me?” Izuku asks.
Katsuki remembers to blush, finally. “Yeah. Whatever. Shut up.”
Izuku laughs. “I haven’t even said anything!”
“Well don’t!”
“I’m just surprised,” Izuku says. “You hated me, and then - well, even after, I didn’t think you really liked me.”
And because Katsuki is very drunk, he says, “Of course I like you, you’re my best friend.”
And because Izuku is also drunk, he replies, “Wait, you had wet dreams about me?”
“Oh my god,” Katsuki moans and buries his face in his hands. “I told you to shut up. Seriously, I will kill you.”
“You won’t kill me, you want to fuck me!”
Izuku is miraculously even more flustered when Katsuki says, “No, idiot, I wanted you to fuck me . Also, shut up.”
“You keep saying that,” Izuku replies, something like a purr, as he wiggles closer, “but have you thought about just - making me?”
When Katsuki looks up and blinks, he sees Izuku’s eyes are bright. The green in them is sparkling, but most of it has been overtaken by his dilated pupils, now shining with anticipation. Making me replays in his head, making Izuku shut up. He’s had some practice with that. It used to include saying some bullshit he didn’t believe about quirklessness, or beating the shit out of him, or, in their last year of high school, when they were really just normal friends, smacking him upside the head and calling him a loser. Here, though, he’s being presented with a new option - actually, he’s being asked to perform it. Izuku is asking Katsuki to - what? Kiss him? Jesus. He wants to punch a wall and also take a very cold shower.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says, less laughing now and more soft, like Katsuki is a child to be cowed. “Will you please kiss me?”
Izuku is asking Katsuki to kiss him. Confirmed. He whites out for all of three seconds before diving in, gripping Izuku’s cheeks - though sharpened with age, they’re still a little chubby, his round face soft under Katsuki’s thick calluses - and elegantly stuffing his tongue in Izuku’s mouth. Izuku holds onto Katsuki’s neck like if he lets go, he’ll fall over, but Katsuki would never let that happen. He crowds in, presses his bare skin to Izuku’s, like every inch of it still won’t be enough.
Their differing stages of undress make Katsuki blush, admittedly. He’s in just his briefs still with one last blanket sort of draped haphazardly around his waist and stomach, while Izuku has socks, boxers, and a shirt, dressed enough he wouldn’t die of embarrassment if someone saw him. Izuku’s fingers are surprisingly nimble when they slide beneath the band of Katsuki’s boxers and toy with the fabric, stretching it and snapping it against his hipbones. Katsuki, very wisely, whines.
Izuku laughs against his lips. “C’mon,” he mumbles, pulling away and jumping to his feet with never-before-seen levels of sheer adrenaline. He grabs Katsuki by the wrist and drags him along, pulls him up and into bed before Katsuki takes in a breath. He’s thrown to the mattress, sheets itchy and unfamiliar, and closes his eyes and opens his mouth to let Izuku take back his place inside. Izuku worms through with his tongue, licks over the roof of his mouth and behind his teeth and swallows him whole. It’s the best kiss Katsuki’s ever had, even if it is sloppy and wet and gross.
“Can I take it off?” Izuku asks, hand landing on Katsuki’s thigh, all of it touching the fabric except the pinky finger that hangs over the side and brushes through the soft blonde hair on his leg.
Katsuki breathes, cold and quick. “Yeah,” he agrees, because he’d never say no to Izuku, never say no to this. “Please,” he says, and he never begs, but he will here. He will, if he has too.
As it turns out, he doesn’t have to.
Some time later, Katsuki rouses and blinks sleep from his eyes, bones weary from exertion and muscles achy from the cold. His quirk is probably useless by now, he feels it through his whole body, and he wonders if this is what Izuku felt like before he got One For All . Last night, the alcohol was keeping him warm enough it didn’t register, this emptiness that has since settled across his skin; now, he’s just hungover and cold.
Except, there is something. A source of warmth he can’t quite place, heat whispering against his frozen skin, and he turns to see a very shirtless Izuku poking at a very small fire and it all comes back to him.
They slept together. Not like, fell asleep in a bed that they had to share, fully clothed with a wall of pillows to keep the distance, but rather with his cheek pressed into Izuku’s bare chest and hand curled around his waist. He fell asleep naked, he remembers that much, though now he realizes he’s draped in a jacket he almost doesn’t recognize. It’s Izuku’s sweatshirt, warm and dry from a night lying beneath the bed. When he looks down, he’s wearing Izuku’s socks too. There’s an ugly beast in his chest, crawling up his throat and wanting desperately to scream or cry or curse at the very handsome man a few feet from him, but all that is soothed when Izuku turns and his big green eyes lock onto Katsuki’s and he says, soft like Katsuki is a cowering street dog, “You’re awake.”
“Um,” he replies intelligently, “how long was I…?”
“Few hours,” Izuku shrugs and turns his face back to the flame. “Sun’s coming up now. I couldn’t sleep as much, I was - I was worried about how you’d fare in the cold. I’m trying to remember how to keep a fire going, I - I keep having to restart.”
Katsuki didn’t notice at first, but Izuku is crying. He’s crying. It’s not an unfamiliar sight, frankly. but usually Izuku doesn’t try to hide it.
“That’s okay,” and now Katsuki uses that same soft voice, like he’s crowding a feral Izuku, “I can help.”
Izuku’s voice scratches and cracks when he says, “No!” He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back, straightens up like he’s making himself look taller against a predator. “No, that’s okay. I can do it.”
“Let me help,” Katsuki says, because he doesn’t know when to stop, when enough is enough, but neither does Izuku, so usually it’s not so bad except—
“No, Katsuki,” Izuku shouts, a stern voice like a bomb counting backwards from five, four, three… “Sit back down.”
Katsuki does, because he is speechless. Izuku never speaks to him that way, not even when Katsuki absolutely deserves it, and right now he’s pretty sure he doesn’t deserve it. He specifically remembers being very nice, in fact, and hides from the thought, mouth agape as he stares at his pale hands and wonders what exactly he did that has Izuku so angry.
He bites his tongue, instead of saying what he wants to say — go fuck yourself, shitty Deku, with your shitty freckles and your shitty dick, and lose my number you stupid fucking creep — and opts to glare at the rippling muscles of Izuku’s back. He waits, because Izuku hates silence and he knows that more than anybody, and the time will come for the quiet to break when Izuku is ready to apologize.
Minutes pass, and Izuku says, “I’m sorry,” just as Katsuki expected.
He scoffs, though, because he’s pissed off and embarrassed, and embarrassed about being pissed off, and pissed off about being embarrassed. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Fuck are you yelling at me for? I didn’t ask you to make a fire, I’m stuck here too, just like you. Asshole.” He adds the last part under his breath, and feels a little guilty about it until Izuku looks at him with a little bit of a smile. It’s… cute.
“I’m nervous,” Izuku admits. “We had sex so things will change. And, good or bad, change is scary. And I feel like - like everything is out of my control right now and I want something, just one thing , to say I did it and fixed something but nothing is working and - and I feel like shit. I miss Small Might, she’s probably so scared, and I’m scared too, because - they’ll be here soon, right, but what if - what if they weren’t okay either? And-”
“Izuku,” Katsuki says, and stands. “Look, nothing has to change. Alright? Let’s just forget it, if it’s that big of a deal. We’ll get you back to your dumb cat and it’ll be fine.”
“Is that what you want? To forget?”
Katsuki blinks. Want? What is want anyways? Katsuki wants to go home. He wants Izuku to kiss him on his stupid face until his head stops hurting. In equal measure, he wants to beat the crap out of shitty Deku, just like he did in high school, just to prove a point. “It’s whatever,” he settles on. “You’re stressed out, so we forget it.
“It’s not because of you , Kacchan,” Izuku replies.
“It’s fine,” Katsuki interjects, because he hates pity even more than he hates this weird shame that is twisting around his stomach. “We had a stupid fun night. Whatever. We thought we were going to die. We got drunk and said things we didn’t mean. I won’t tell anyone about you and you won’t tell anyone about me.”
Katsuki doesn’t do a great job of convincing himself that he means any of it, but he hopes that he fools Izuku at least. Things are silent for one brief moment of staring at each other before Katsuki starts looking for his underwear and pants so he can take off Izuku’s sweatshirt. He’s got his back turned when a hard line of muscle presses up against his spine and he stiffens, nearly looks over his shoulder but chickens out and stares at the window instead.
“No,” Izuku says, simple but meaningful. “I don’t want it to be a stupid fun night, okay? I want it to be the start of - of a million stupid fun nights. And bad ones, too, and boring ones and sad ones and - I’m sorry for snapping. I lashed out because I’m scared of everything right now, but I’m not scared of this. Never this.” He wraps his crooked fingers around Katsuki’s slender wrist and spins his body around to pull their chests together and Izuku cranes his neck up to say, “I love you, Kacchan,” and Katsuki nearly shits himself.
“What,” he replies flatly.
Izuku isn’t put off by this. He smiles, actually, and there’s laughter in his voice when he says, “I love you. I’ve loved you since that time in second year you picked me up from my date with Ochako and told me no one would be good enough for the future number two hero even if they were not bad for a dumb girl. And I told you that wasn’t nice to say about your friends and you said, Cheeks is my friend like how a stray dog that follows you home and won’t leave is your pet, but she told me that the next day you gave her candy and said that you’d kick my ass if she wanted you to and I realized - Kacchan. You are sweet. You’re funny and handsome and smart and strong, too, but I knew all that already, and then you were sweet, and I started noticing it all the time. You’d make breakfast for Kirishima and you walked Ashido home at night and whenever you talked to my mom you’d bow all formally like she didn’t change your diapers before. You are a gentleman, and you’re sweet, you’re kind and sentimental. You treat my cat like a baby, you keep a photo of me and All Might in your wallet and drawings from kids you’ve saved on your fridge and you told Kaminari not to call you Kacchan anymore but you never told me that so I thought, maybe, he might feel the same way, but I couldn’t be sure because, honestly, you’re pretty hard to read, except last night, you said - you said you’d had wet dreams about me in high school! And I figured, even if you didn’t still want me that way, what’s the harm in trying? If I missed my shot, my one shot, I’d - I’d-”
God , Katsuki thinks, he talks so much, and then kisses Izuku like the secrets of the universe are hidden somewhere beneath his tongue.
By the time their walkie-talkie erupts in static, alerting them someone has turned on their microphone, Katsuki’s neck is sore and bruised and littered with a dozen marks he cannot explain away. The bedsheets are rumpled in a very obvious fashion, but he chooses not to be embarrassed about it because he thinks he deserves it, after all this time.
“Hero Deku, Hero Dynamight, come in.”
“We’re here, Iida,” says Izuku, laying on his back, shirtless, with Katsuki draped across his chest. “No need to worry, we’re okay.”
“Which house are you in? We’re approaching the upper neighborhood.”
Izuku jumps up and Katsuki rolls to the floor. They both scramble for their clothes. “Uh,” Izuku says, “um. We’ll - we’ll meet you outside! Oh. Uh. See you in a minute!” He ends the call and turns the walkie off entirely.
“Where the hell are my clothes, Izuku? Jesus. This is a mess, I knew we shouldn’t have drank - my head hurts so bad, god, I hate you.”
Izuku wraps a hand around his neck and brings him in for a slow kiss. “Worth it,” he says when he pulls off, their lips smacking as they separate. “I found your pants, by the way.”
When Iida sees the marks on Katsuki’s neck, he dutifully says nothing. When the rest of the team sees, of course, they scream.
Katsuki has his whole life to be angry. Today, he’ll just blush and grin.