#bkdk #bakudeku #ktdk
five years into the future, when izuku and all of his classmates were pros, a UA class reunion was practically obligatory.
the only thing that none of their friends expected, was for katsuki and izuku to arrive at the reunion’s bar together.
and don’t get it wrong. they weren’t TOGETHER together. at least, that’s what izuku claimed. they were amicable, though, all that teenage angst long gone: katsuki was filled with more placating smiles than scowls, and izuku wasn’t as fearful of hovering around him now. katsuki—
learned to nod along as izuku spoke, and izuku learned to take katsuki to a corner when he started to roll his eyes too much. it was as if they’ve grown as a forged unit, as if their trajectories no longer rivaled each other’s but intertwined, creeping like ivy along the brick—
wall of hopes and ambitions and something else.
so izuku didn’t understand WHY it came as such a surprise when he told his ex-schoolmates that he and katsuki were living together, sharing a duplex apartment off the road near their agency.
so izuku didn’t understand WHY it came as such a surprise when he told his ex-schoolmates that he and katsuki were living together, sharing a duplex apartment off the road near their agency.
it didn’t seem to be something that any of them had anticipated, judging by the shocked looks of those they weren’t too close with. not close enough to invite to intermittent, weekly dinners at their apartment, at least. and karaoke—
nights, and picnics, and paintball tournaments that katsuki claimed were stupid.
and izuku didn’t know why, but it UPSET him.
was it really such a stretch, imagining that he and katsuki could reconcile? that they could put their years of history where it belonged—
and izuku didn’t know why, but it UPSET him.
was it really such a stretch, imagining that he and katsuki could reconcile? that they could put their years of history where it belonged—
— in the past? was it really so impossible to imagine his shoes next to katsuki’s boots in the foyer, or them sharing a room to display their hero suits and all might merchandise, or their laundry coming home together?
izuku sat in one of the bar’s booths, squished between ochako and iida, katsuki somewhere at the other end of the room. and there was booze —of COURSE there was booze— perched in front of him in a myriad of frosty glasses, and the chatter around him was warm and pleasant, but—
all izuku could think about was monoma’s bewildered scoff as someone mentioned that he and katsuki were living together, saying something along the lines of “and you guys didn’t burn down the apartment yet?” while a chorus of well-meaning laughter followed his tacky comment.
and it shouldn’t bug izuku as much as it did now, but it did anyway.
and, well, if the glasses of sake seemed to disappear from right in front of him as these thoughts circled his head like vultures, then at least he only had himself to blame.
and, well, if the glasses of sake seemed to disappear from right in front of him as these thoughts circled his head like vultures, then at least he only had himself to blame.
before he could try to find the answer to why he was so distraught in the bottom of another cup, ochako stopped him with an understanding smile. and she gave him one of those looks that meant that he was going to get taken care of whether he liked it or not.
“‘zuku, i think maybe it’s time for you to drink some water,” she said kindly, looking like she knew exactly what this was about.
izuku shook his head, and woah, since when did the room spin like that, and since when was he leaning bonelessly against iida’s shoulder?
izuku shook his head, and woah, since when did the room spin like that, and since when was he leaning bonelessly against iida’s shoulder?
“no…” izuku still managed to slur, shaking his head.
“you’ve had quite a lot to drink,” iida said, matter-of-fact.
“just one more.” izuku insisted.
“you’ve had quite a lot to drink,” iida said, matter-of-fact.
“just one more.” izuku insisted.
and then, iida and ochako shared a look over his head, and glanced in the direction of the only person they knew could wrangle him out of this.
which, frankly, was cheating. izuku’s weaknesses shouldn’t be so easily used against him. but whatever.
which, frankly, was cheating. izuku’s weaknesses shouldn’t be so easily used against him. but whatever.
they caught his eye pretty fast, and before izuku knew it, there was a tall, devastating shadow looming over their booth, eyebrows drawn in a sigh.
“can’t leave you alone for one damn minute, can’t i?” katsuki said, with none of the bite it would usually come with, five years ago.
izuku only whimpered, turning away from his firm gaze. he wasn’t really in the mood to confront the object of… whatever it was that he was feeling. but the traitor ochako dutifully shuffled out of the way to create an opening in the booth, just enough for katsuki to—
grab him gently by the shoulder, pull him up, and keep him there with the drape of an arm.
and when that didn’t seem like enough, when izuku kept sagging where he stood, he simply knelt just enough for izuku to wrap himself over his back, tucking his hands around katsuki’s—
and when that didn’t seem like enough, when izuku kept sagging where he stood, he simply knelt just enough for izuku to wrap himself over his back, tucking his hands around katsuki’s—
neck. like it was the easiest thing in the world. like they’ve done this thousands of times before.
(which— maybe they have. in the late hours of those karaoke nights. or when, after patrol, izuku couldn’t even make it to his bedroom, passed out on the couch. to reach—
(which— maybe they have. in the late hours of those karaoke nights. or when, after patrol, izuku couldn’t even make it to his bedroom, passed out on the couch. to reach—
the topmost cupboard in their kitchen that didn’t seem to be built for human proportions. but that’s neither here nor there.)
“i should get him home,” katsuki said, and izuku could feel the rumble of his throat against the back of his hand.
“i should get him home,” katsuki said, and izuku could feel the rumble of his throat against the back of his hand.
Generated by Thread Navigator
Press ⌘ + S to quick-export