Work Text:
Izuku has waited his whole life for Katsuki to run a hand through his hair. OK, nearly his whole life because he’s known Kacchan since they were three, but didn’t realise he wanted to always be physically close to the other boy until they were seven.
And then the moment he does, Katsuki scowls and yanks his splayed fingers from Izuku’s hair with a snarl.
“What the fuck, Deku?”
“Kacchan-!” Izuku bites his lip, because Katsuki's hard tone is so at odds with the soft, sweet smile he’d given Izuku mere moments ago. “Why’d you stop?”
Katsuki scowls, turning completely away from the movie the whole class is watching and pinches a lock of Izuku’s hair between two fingers. Izuku knows neither of them are paying much attention to the movie. It’s Kaminari’s choice, and bless the guy but this thing was shot from The Male GazeTM and it shows. But Katsuki is frowning deeply, glaring at Izuku's hair.
“Ugh… I stopped because my hand got stuck, Shitty Deku.”
Before Izuku can reply, Kirishima reaches out and – with slightly alarming accuracy – pelts Katsuki hard with a jelly bean to the forehead.
“Bro, you swore you were gonna stop calling him that when you started dating.”
Katsuki keeps his explosion contained within the circle of his fingers, but it’s a close thing. Izuku sighs wistfully: even when Kacchan is mad he’s so pretty.
“I told you to stop calling me ‘bro’!”
“That ship has already sailed,” Sero announces from his position tucked happily against Todoroki’s side on the other couch. “We all have to live with being called ‘bro’.”
“No one calls me ‘bro’,” Todoroki says softly in his usual monotone. Even for Izuku, who has been close friends with him for over a year, it’s hard to tell if he’s stating a fact, or if he’s upset by it, or just surprised by this realisation.
“You’re the lucky one,” Sero tells him.
“Yes, I have you,” Todoroki replies.
Katsuki makes an over-exaggerated retching noise.
“Gods, get a fucking room.”
“Says the guy stroking his boyfriend’s hair,” Kaminari retorts. “Now, will you all shut up? Best bit of the movie is coming up.”
“You just like it because of the really small shorts she’s wearing,” Ashido jabs.
“You like those shorts too,” Kaminari reminds her.
Izuku tunes them out, because Katsuki is still staring at him. Those pretty red eyes are so bright and striking and Izuku could just get lost in them for hours but Katsuki tugs hard on Izuku’s hair and Izuku bats his hand away with a wince.
“Kacchan!”
“Your hair feels like old straw. What the fuck did you do to it?”
“Nothing special,” Deku replies, frowning softly. He tries to snuggle back into the perfect dip between Katsuki’s arm and swell of his pec but finds himself held back at arm’s length. Uraraka – seated on the spare seat of their couch – grumbles at the jostling without looking up from her phone. “I washed it today after morning training!”
“With what? Sand?” Katsuki scowls some more, but eventually pulls Izuku back into his shoulder. He doesn’t touch Izuku’s hair again though. “Don't skip conditioner next time, or you’re not napping in my bed.”
From Izuku’s position, he sees Sero silently exchanging knowing looks and money with Iida of all people. Iida looks like he caught someone trying to text in class. Izuku blinks – he can’t believe his classmates are betting to whether he and Kacchan are sleeping together or not – but decides it’s safer for all concerned if he doesn’t say anything. He thinks on what Katsuki just said.
“But Kacchan, I don’t have any conditioner.”
“WHAT?!”
An explosion fires off from Katsuki’s left hand – someone swears – and then Izuku is being dragged up by the front of his shirt in a manner which feels all too familiar and hustled out of the common room. For a half a second, Izuku thinks Kirishima might come after them, and he’s thankful that his boyfriend’s best friend doesn’t, because though Izuku can handle Katsuki’s temper, the expression in those pretty red eyes is not murderous.
“Come on, Nerd.” Katsuki growls, still half dragging Izuku towards the stairs.
“Kacchan? Where are we going?” Izuku takes hold of Katsuki’s wrist and pries him off his shirt, linking their hands together in the process. Katsuki’s hand is hot in his own – Kacchan is always so hot – and his skin is smooth and supple and Izuku loves the way it feels against his palm.
“Your fucking room, moron.” Katsuki stomps all the way there, then shoulder’s Izuku’s door open with force: thank gods it wasn’t locked, or Izuku would be trying to find the money for a new door frame and latch… again. “Show me.”
“Kacchan?” Izuku stares at his boyfriend – his Kacchan – who stands in the centre of his room all huffy and pissed off, glaring around at Izuku’s books and clothes and All-Might paraphernalia like it is the source of his irritation. Izuku feels his gaze dropping south, past Katskui’s broad shoulders and delightful chest and perfect abs and tiny waist. For a moment his fingers hover at the hem on his own shirt, because this isn’t how he thought their first time doing more than just kissing and grinding would go, but it’s Kacchan and he isn’t opposed to it either. “Um… show- what?”
Katsuki snarls wordlessly, like Izuku is being particularly thick, and waves a hand at Izuku’s hair.
“Your shower stuff. What the fuck are you washing your hair with?”
Izuku blinks rapidly. Oh. He can’t help but feel a tiny hint of disappointment as he crosses to his wardrobe and reaches for his bathroom caddy. There’s not much in there; toothpaste, toothbrush, a little bunch of cotton buds, and-
“What,” Katsuki intones in the kind of serious voice usually reserved for interrogating particularly vicious criminals, “the fuck is this?”
In one hand he is holding Izuku’s shampoo bottle, the cap bright yellow and the plastic blue with red and white accents, the label picturing Izuku’s personal Hero and mentor in all his glory.
“What the actual fuck, Deku?”
“It’s my shampoo!” Izuku blurts. “It’s All-Might themed.”
“I can fucking see that it’s all-might themed!” Katsuki snaps. “And it’s fucking made of shitty chemicals that aren’t any good for your hair or anything else either.” He turns the bottle over to read the label properly, and Izuku throws up his hands in defence just before his boyfriend verbally – if not physically – explodes. “FIVE IN ONE?! FUCKING FIVE IN ONE? WHAT THE FUCK DEKU? What the shit is this supposed to be?! Shampoo, face, body, moisturiser, and…. Fucking deodorant? DEODORANT?? THE FUCK!”
“It’s One For All,” Izuku protests weakly.
“HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK ALL THOSE THINGS CAN BE FUNCTIONAL IN ONE PRODUCT DEKU?”
Izuku chews his lip, holding his chin with one finger as he mutters.
“Well, I mean my phone is a camera and a web browser, and you can take notes on it and record audio, and it had picture editing software, so-”
Katsuki grabs him by the shirt front again and jabs Izuku in the forehead with the hard plastic of the shampoo bottle.
“A phone and shampoo are not the same, Deku. And this isn’t even shampoo. This a fucking abomination!” Katsuki gives a last, scathing look to the bottle in his hand, then flings it away from them both.
The bottle smashes into the hallway wall opposite Izuku’s room, bits of plastic, and vibrant blue goop going everywhere.
“You are not sleeping in my bed until you deal with your hair.”
Izuku bites his lip a lot harder at that, because though they don’t do it every night, the times when he gets to fall asleep pressed against the heat of Katsuki’s body are always the best. He almost never has nightmares when he and Katsuki sleep together. Izuku stares at the floor and wills tears not to form and cloud his vision and spill over his cheeks.
This time, like every other time, he fails.
“Oh for- you stupid, loveable idiot.” Katsuki grabs his chin and those pretty red eyes fill Izuku’s vision. “Quit crying. I didn’t say I don’t love you any more or anything, did I?”
“N-n-n-no Kacchan.”
“You’ve just got to learn to take better care of yourself.” Katsuki uses his free hand to grab Deku’s, fingers skimming deliberately over his scars and callouses and the bumps where his bones have not healed straight from all the damage he has done to them. “This is not new. I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
They stand like that for a while, with Katsuki stroking Izuku’s hand and cupping his cheek until Izuku stops sniffling and his tears mostly dry up. Katsuki smears the remainder across his freckles with both thumbs.
“Silly Deku.”
“Can I use your shampoo then, since mine is… over there?” Izuku sniffs.
“Tch, like my shampoo would do you any good.”
Izuku raises a hand and slides his fingers through Katsuki’s gloriously soft spikes. They spring back into shape the moment he moves his hand, retained their sharp points even though the texture is amazing against Izuku’s fingers.
“Kacchan’s hair is so soft.”
“Yeah, and much finer and straighter than yours. Lay off, Nerd.” Katsuki jerks out of his grasp, but lessens the sting of rejection by looping his hands around Izuku’s waist. “Don’t do anything to your hair – and I mean anything at all – until I tell you, ok?”
“Why, are you going to take my comb too?”
Katsuki grits his teeth when he sees the comb. It too is All-Might themed with a novelty shaped handle.
“I will not explode this if you put it in your fucking shrine of merch and promise never to use it again. Got it?”
Izuku sighs heavily.
“Yes, Kacchan.”
“Good. Good night, Deku.”
“Wait, you’re really going?”
Katsuki takes his chin again and kisses him hard, tongue pressing at the seam of Izuku’s lips as their mouth slide together. Izuku whines.
“Gotta reinforce the lesson, Izuku. See you tomorrow.”
Izuku watches his boyfriend turn and go – enchanted by the view of that perfectly sculpted backside walking away from him – and then sets to cleaning the exploded bottle and remaining shampoo from the wall.
***
Izuku is spending his free Saturday afternoon studying with his friends in Todoroki’s bedroom – which is somehow the most spacious of their rooms even though their rooms are all the exact same dimensions – trying not to scratch at his scalp. He didn’t shower this morning, and though he doesn’t shower every morning because he always showers after physical training, he still feels uncomfortable. More than once Izuku sticks his nose into the collar of his shirt, because he’s sure he smells, but neither Uraraka nor Iida sitting either side of him seem to notice anything amiss as they all work through their homework assignments.
There is a perfunctory knock on Todoroki’s door moments before it opens and Sero slides in, two volumes of manga and a box of classic flavour pocky in one hand, with Katsuki storming in right behind him.
“Sorry for barging in Sho,” Sero says, moving easily around the table until he can stoop to press a soft kiss to Todoroki’s head. “I wanted to save your door from Blasty.”
“You want me to explode you, tape dispenser?”
“No explosions in my bedroom please, Bakugo,” Todoroki says without looking up. “Much as I like to waste my father’s money, I do not wish to go through the hassle of redecorating.”
“Fucking- ergh!” Katsuki stomps over to where Izuku is sitting, and Izuku suddenly notices his boyfriend it also holding something – a cardboard shipping box clenched tightly under one arm. “Come on, Deku. Get up.”
“Hey Kacchan,” Izuku scrambles to gather his books and notes and fold everything neatly, but Katsuki doesn’t give him time. “Where are we going?”
“Bathrooms. Gonna wash you.”
“My, my…” Sero is grinning openly as he drops onto Todoroki’s folded up futon and opens his manga. “How intimate.”
“Shut up Soy Sauce Face!” Katsuki grabs for Izuku’s hand and pulls him away from his friends. “You can come back for your stuff.”
“But- Kacchan-”
It’s no use. Fighting against Katsuki on a mission is like trying to change the weather by shouting, and really, Izuku always wants to go along with what Katsuki wants to do anyway. Especially if it involves the pair of them being somewhere together… and maybe… less dressed. Izuku’s heart starts beating really hard in his chest when the fourth-floor boys bathroom comes into sight.
Katsuki yanks opens the door, pushes Izuku in, and then grabs a chair he must have brought in here earlier just for this purpose, and jams it hard up under the door handle, effectively locking them both in together.
“Toilet first,” Katsuki says, pointing towards the line of stalls as he sets the box down by the sinks. “Then dump you clothes and meet me in the baths.”
Izuku stares at his boyfriend as Katsuki starts to remove a new, green shower caddy from the box. It has a proper handle and everything and is much bigger than his last one. Then Katsuki’s red eyes flick up and meet his in the mirror, and Izuku flees to do as he was told.
By the time he reappears into the main area of the bathroom, Katsuki is nowhere to be seen and the shipping box is empty. Izuku places the stack of his clothes down next to it, on top of Katsuki’s meticulously folded garments.
“Kacchan?”
“In here!” The sounds of water and rising billows of steam emanated from the other side of the tile wall, and Izuku steps around with his hands clasped in front of himself even though-
“You’re still wearing boxers? The fuck Deku. Take them off unless you want them soaked.”
“But…”
“If they are All-Might themed I will explode them right off your freckled arse.”
Izuku glares at his boyfriend through the steam. Katsuki is seated on a low stool in front of one of the washing stations with a small towel across is lap and a second stool positioned in front of him. Izuku stares, and forgets why he is standing there when so much of Katsuki’s gloriously smooth skin and gorgeous muscles are on display right in front of him. Gods, the way Kacchan’s thighs bunch up like that as he sits on the low stool is sinful.
Katsuki smirks, leaning back and flicking his red gaze up and down Izuku’s body.
“Like what you see, Izuku?”
Izuku tries to swallow, to breathe, to make any noises at all. His throat clicks dryly.
“Kacchan…”
“No touching until we’re done. Lose the underwear, Freckles.”
That brings Izuku back to the present.
“Hey, you don’t know I have freckles on my… down there.”
“Seen you naked when we were kids, Deku. Doubt they’ve migrated since then. Come on, come on.”
Izuku stares at him boyfriend and a moment later, another small towel hits him in the face. Izuku awkwardly holds it with one hand in front of his crotch and shuffles out of his underwear with the other hand. He quickly hides them away with his other clothes, because he does not need Katsuki ribbing him over the very easily recognisable golden logo on the waistband. When Izuku dares to peek around the separating wall once more, Katsuki is still there, still naked, still looking like every horny daydream Izuku has ever had, come to life.
He smiles at Izuku – less like a relaxed predator this time, but softer, reassuring – and pats the stool in front of him.
“Come on Izuku. I don’t bite.”
Izuku doesn’t turn around until the very last second, but Katsuki still manages to poke him in the middle of one butt-cheek before he sits.
“Pretty…”
Izuku cheeks flame.
“Kacchan…!”
Katsuki doesn’t reply, but lifts a basin of warm water and unceremoniously dumps in over Izuku’s head.
“Kacchan!”
“Quit complaining Nerd. I’m trying to save your hair.” Another load of water is poured over his head, and as Izuku blinks and rubs his eyelashes, Katsuki’s fingers make their way back into his hair. “You’re a mess. How’d you get this far in life without being able to take care of yourself?” Katsuki only pauses for half a heartbeat. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Here.”
Izuku reaches behind him and takes the heavy bottle from his boyfriend. It is white with a pale salmon-pink label and a picture of a flower.
“This is your new shampoo. When you run out, I’ll show you where to buy more. Just this OK, no more fucking Hero-branded bollocks.”
“Oh, um…”
“Look.” Katsuki’s arm drapes over his shoulder as he stabs at the label. “See here? No sulphates, so your hair will be all silky. And shea butter to soften it, and neem oil to control the frizz.”
“And the coconut?” Izuku asks, uncapping the bottle and taking a sniff. As little as he knows about hair products, it smells amazing.
“UV and dirt and pollution are bad for your hair. And we work mostly urban areas. You need the coconut.”
Izuku makes to hand the open bottle back to Katsuki, but he hears something else being opened behind him, and the squelch of vicious liquid being poured into Katsuki’s palm.
“But that’s for later, right now you need this.”
Izuku groans softly as he feels Katsuki’s fingers begin to rub circles into his scalp. Izuku let’s his head tip forward, muscles going slack as tingling pleasure spreads down his spine.
“Ah-ah, lean back for me, baby. That’s better.” Katsuki’s fingers skim over his forehead, gathering his curls, and Izuku fights the desire to simply loose himself in the heavy lub-dub lub-dub of Katsuki’s heartbeat. “This is recovery shampoo.”
“Mmm… why do I need that?”
“Because you’ve been damaging your hair – just like the rest of your body – with no regard at all and it has reached its limit. Stupid Deku… and everyone else seems to think your smart.” Katsuki’s voice is firm, but his fingers are gentle and soothing and Izuku can feel how heavy and slippery his wet hair is as Katsuki works his way back from his temples to the back of his head. “This formula has keratin to fill up damaged spots and replenish vital nutrients. Stronger and softer. Less breakage and more bounce.”
“Bounce?”
“Yeah, now your hair will be just as springy and jiggly as your arse.”
“Kacchan!” Izuku jerks upright, torn between twisting to look at his boyfriend or hiding his blushing face.
“Uh-huh… because I didn’t catch you staring at my chest the last time we were paired up in costume?”
“Shut up…” Izuku whines.
“Read the instructions on the label.” Katsuki taps the blue bottle in Izuku’s new shower caddy. “I’m not doing it for you every time, Deku.”
“But Kacchan has the best hands.”
“Damn right I do.” Katsuki finishes with a little twist of the fine hairs at Izuku’s nape. “Alright, eyes closed, I’m gonna wash you.”
Katsuki pours water over his head again and again, one hand working through his thick locks as suds stream down over his face and shoulders, dripping off his nose and chin. Katsuki squeezes the drips from his hair, then reaches down into the caddy again for a pot which he unscrews to reveal and thick white gel.
What’s that?”
“Conditioner. Whatever you do, don’t lend it to anyone; no one else has your kind of hair.”
“Oh.”
“It gives excellent slip, which is something you need with your curls.”
Izuku frowns as he feels Katsuki careful fingertips beginning to work the product through his hair.
“How do you know all this stuff, Kacchan?”
“You have to take care of your body to be the best Hero. Thought you would have worked that out by now, Deku.”
Izuku does turn then, peering at his boyfriend from under the wet scraggles of his fringe. Katsuki’s cheeks are pink, and Izuku doesn’t think it’s from the heat.
“But you said your hair isn’t like mine?”
Katsuki’s cheeks are definitely more pink now, and he turns Izuku around with a hand on the back of his head.
“You’re not the only one who does research you know.”
“Kacchan-” Izuku starts, but he is cut off by more water pouring over his head.
Katsuki makes another attempt at drowning him, but when Katsuki drags his fingers through Izuku’s wet hair and encounters no tangles, his grin is practically audible.
Izuku glances down in-between being heavily doused and spots a very fancy looking black and red hairbrush and a cool wide toothed comb in the shower caddy along with his new hair products. He knows that his lesson is not over yet but Izuku decides that it doesn’t matter if he has to wait all evening – he’s going to tell Katsuki how sweet he is for doing this for him.
Or perhaps – given that Katsuki is a man of action – Izuku will just have to show him how much it means to him… just as long as Katsuki doesn’t see his All-Might underwear, everything will be fine.