Work Text:
Izuku liked to think that he’s an affectionate person. He gave affections generously and basked in the ones he received gratefully.
He loved hugs, playful headlocks, arms slung around shoulders, the occasional kisses-on-cheeks. He loved affirmative words, whenever his friends and co-workers complimented him after yet another successful mission on the field and Hero Deku returned home victorious once again.
He loved telling people to “Get home safe!” after hangouts, texting them “Are you okay?” whenever he noticed them down when they’re having lunch together. He loved seeing their faces lit up in silent happiness when they didn’t expect the caring attention Izuku gave them. He didn’t expect the same gestures in return, of course, not everyone was as open as him with their affections after all, but it sure would be nice to have someone to do the same to him.
Izuku also absolutely cherished the existence of phone calls.
He thought that whoever found that technology, all those decades and centuries ago, deserved a special spot in heaven (if they weren’t a horrible human being in other aspects of life, of course). It made everyone’s lives a hundred times easier, and it was certainly one of Izuku’s favorite things to do.
He loved making phone calls with his loved ones that lasted for hours on end, talking about nothing and everything, until either one of them fell asleep. When they were third years, he and Shouto used to call each other every other week, when they weren’t too dead tired from classes and internship and training. They lived in the same dorm building but somehow calls were much easier to make than walking up the stairs to Shouto’s room or having Shouto go all the way down to his room. They could call while doing homework or cleaning their room, and it was nice having someone on the line even while both of them weren’t saying anything. Izuku and Shouto barely had any friends growing up, so finding the common similarity between them had created such a strong friendship between them and Izuku found himself being grateful for his best friend even years later when they’re already Pro Heroes.
Being a Pro meant less time to do the things he used to be able to do, but that didn’t matter. His time management had gotten better throughout the years anyway.
The skill turned out to be a major help after Kacchan asked him out and he said yes and the two of them officially became a couple.
He still felt like crying whenever he recalled the day Kacchan grabbed his arm in the quiet station in the dead of the night, holding him in place. Both of them had just gotten back from visiting their parents and Izuku was about to head back to his place when he felt Kacchan’s large hand holding him back, the blond’s face turned away from him when Izuku turned around to look at the other man. He liked to think that he didn’t imagine the pink blush tinting Kacchan’s cheek.
Kacchan told him that he liked liked him, and Izuku, being Izuku, started tearing up. Kacchan had panicked when he did so, hands frantically flying up to cradle Izuku’s face and Kacchan had looked so worried when he stared into Izuku’s eyes that he couldn’t help but let out a watery laugh and brought Kacchan into a tight hug.
Izuku would never guess that his yearslong yearning for his childhood friend would be reciprocated. He thought he would have to resolve into telling Shouto all about his adoration and love whenever Kacchan flexed his arms or did something thoughtful for him, even though Shouto had long learned to just roll his eyes in fondness whenever Izuku would gush about his explosive then friend. He had countlessly told Izuku to confess and Izuku would always stutter and go red in the face before shaking his head and saying that he didn’t dare to ruin whatever relationship he and Kacchan had.
Who would’ve known that Kacchan would be the one confessing to him instead.
Izuku never went back to his place that night, and the rest was history.
It didn’t take long for their friends to catch up on their newfound status.
Kirishima and Kaminari had attacked Kacchan in a bear hug when they visited Kacchan’s place and found Izuku lounging in the living room in one of Kacchan’s old shirts. The blond had shouted profanities and “get away from me”s at his friends but didn’t push them away.
Shouto learned about it directly from Izuku, of course. Izuku had never been one able to keep an exciting secret like that to himself for long. Shouto sagged in relief in his spot on the couch, muttering something about “fucking finally” before digging through his fridge for beer because apparently the occasion called for celebration and liberty from a pining best friend in Shouto’s side.
Izuku made time in his tight schedule to go over to Kacchan’s every few days a week, and Kacchan did the same to him. Izuku was never able to stay too long without being near his boyfriend (wow, he could call him that now, my god) anyway.
Izuku also liked to think that out of every human being on the planet, he knew Kacchan best.
But knowing him best did not equal knowing every single thing about him.
Looking back on it, he probably should’ve already realized it one evening, when he was lying down with his head on the blond’s lap, reading a magazine. Kacchan was tapping away on his phone above him, a comfortable silence washed over the apartment.
The phone in Kacchan’s hand buzzed, and judging from the rhythmical vibrations, it was a phone call. Izuku lifted his torso up and away from his boyfriend, thinking about how Kacchan might need to step outside to take the call in case it was something Izuku wasn’t supposed to listen to.
He took a look at the screen and read Kaminari’s name across it. Kacchan’s thumb went over the device and, much to his surprise, he declined the call.
Izuku was taken aback.
“Hey, Kacchan, that’s not nice!” he exclaimed. Kacchan only clicked his tongue in response.
Izuku, sensing that the atmosphere of the room had started to shift, backtracked on whatever was about to jump from his tongue.
“Did you have a fight with Kaminari-kun?” he asked instead.
“What? Of course not,” Kacchan replied and opened his messaging app, clicking Kaminari’s recent text window and typing down a “What do you want? Just text, goddammit.” before hitting send.
Izuku observed the whole thing while staying still in his place, feet neatly tucked underneath his thighs. He found the turn of events odd but also… interesting.
Kacchan put his phone down on the coffee table and guided Izuku’s head back down until he was lying on his former position before Kaminari’s rejected call. Kacchan started stroking his hair and as he stared down at Izuku with so much affection in those red eyes, Izuku found himself unable to think much of anything else at the moment, the incident temporarily forgotten.
Izuku didn’t know what came over him. All he knew was that work was particularly exhausting that day, his sidekicks managed to drive him up the wall, which was something that could only happen with complete rarity, and the paperworks he submitted kept getting declined because of several stupid typos.
Just an average bad day that no one ever knew the reason why.
Izuku sighed loudly as he slumped in his rolling chair, staring out the window and at the city basking in soft evening lights. Usually the scenery of the city he protected at nighttime would bring a bit of ease to his muddled mind, but not that night. He knew there was only one thing that could remotely elevate his mood.
Hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It didn’t take him much tapping because Kacchan was already his emergency number.
The line rang, and after the fifth ring, Kacchan picked up.
“Hey,” a familiar rough voice called out. Izuku felt a part of his burden being physically lifted off at that.
He started rambling about his awful day, pausing to catch his breath in between his story of how Knivehand had accidentally shattered a civilian’s window and front door after he did an unnecessary trick to show off to the kids that had gathered around him. Kacchan hummed and even let out a small huff of laughter at the right times.
“What about you? How’s your day, Kacchan?” Izuku asked when he finally calmed down, one ear pressed firmly on the device.
“Eh, so-so. Not much trouble during patrol today, it was almost boring.”
Izuku chuckled and the line went silent in a comfortable manner for a moment.
That was, before Kacchan cleared his throat almost restlessly. “Uh, you should get home now, Deku. Be careful, okay? ‘M gonna hang up now. See you soon.”
And the line went dead.
Izuku stared at the dark screen of his phone incredulously. The bad mood that he had successfully kept under control surged back to the surface in full force. He stomped over to where his bag was located on the floor, shoved his folded hero costume inside and marched out down the stairs. The security guard at the lobby must’ve noticed his irritation because he quickly stepped ahead of Izuku to open the door, stuttering out a “have a good night, Deku” that Izuku didn’t even reply to.
The entire train ride back to his place was filled with deprecating thoughts and self introspection. He thought about his relationship with Kacchan, about how Kacchan almost never initiated a call during the two months they had been dating. He thought about Kacchan’s uneasy tone before he ended the call earlier, and Izuku thought that Kacchan was finally bored of him. Kacchan finally saw his nonexistent worth and he had started to grow tired of him, just like how Izuku knew everyone would eventually be. He just wasn’t expecting the time he had together with Kacchan to be so short lived.
He climbed the stairs of his apartment building, didn’t even bother with the elevator because being inside the moving machine meant staying still and having to stare at the space where he and Kacchan had made out in just a week prior.
Izuku slotted his card and unlocked his front door, hastily taking off his shoes with his feet. He knew he had to shower at some point because he had a morning shift the next day, but he just couldn’t bring himself to the bathroom or even peel his clothes off.
Izuku collapsed on the couch, and the tears flowed out inevitably.
He had stopped crying and had finally decided to get his ass off the couch and into the shower when he heard a knock.
Too tired to use the peephole, Izuku wiped his eyes with his shoulder and marched over to the door and swung it open.
“Hey, I made– What the fuck? Deku? Why are you crying?”
Kacchan pushed his way inside Izuku’s house and the tears that had been wiped away earlier came back to Izuku’s viridian eyes. The blond ushered him to sit back down on the sofa, setting a plastic filled with several food containers on the floor, a large hand rubbing comfortable circles on his back.
When Izuku’s sobs subsided, Kacchan mumbled into his hair, “Wanna tell me what happened?”
Izuku sniffed as he gripped Kacchan’s shirt in his fists. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say. Kacchan’s hand on his back paused for a second before continuing its movement.
“Ha? What for?”
The green-haired hero swallowed. Here goes nothing.
“I’m sorry for making you mad. O-Or annoyed.”
At that, Kacchan completely pulled away from the contact, head leaning back to take a better look at Izuku’s face. Izuku himself had looked down, trying to hide it from Kacchan’s view.
“Hey, hey, look, what made you think I was mad at you? Huh? Hey, Izuku, talk to me.” Kacchan’s hands were back on his body, one holding his cheek and the other just under his jaw.
“It’s- It’s just that Kacchan sounded, I don’t know, distressed at the end of the call, and you ended it so abruptly so I thought I had said something wrong. And– And also, come to think of it, you’ve never given me a phone call before, I thought it had something to do with my mumbling habit. I mean, it would make sense after all, Kacchan couldn’t stand that habit of mine back in high school, why would you tolerate it now–”
“Izuku. Izuku,” Kacchan cut him off with a soft tone, and Izuku looked up as if on instinct. The next thing he knew, he was being enveloped bodily by muscled arms, Kacchan’s trademark smell of sandalwood and fire washed over his entire being like a flood, filling him with a sense of serenity.
“You did nothing wrong, okay?” the other hero spoke into Izuku’s curls, stray fingers carding through them. “Think I should be the one who apologize this time around.”
The quietness of the place stretched for a moment as Kacchan took a deep breath.
“I… I’ve never been a fan of phone calls. Thought it was annoying. I mean, text messages are there for a fucking reason, you know? So, yeah, definitely nothing personal. I just… never liked it, I guess. Always makes me feel agitated. Sorry. Again.”
Izuku was silent afterwards. He never thought about it that way, what with himself loving every aspect of performing a phone call. He never knew that Kacchan was someone at the opposite end of the opinion.
Izuku liked to think of himself as someone who knew Katsuki best, even better than Mitsuki or Masaru. He discovered that there was still a lot he had to learn about his boyfriend, and he definitely looked forward to studying Kacchan like his favorite subject.
“Hey, Deku? C’mon, say something.”
Izuku tilted his head upwards, a small smile on his lips. He leaned and touched their lips together, as softly as the way sakura petals fell on their foreheads during their last date, and he sighed contentedly when he felt Kacchan smiled into the kiss.
A rumble from a stomach—whose exactly, Izuku didn’t know—separated them both. Izuku reached down to rummage through the content of the plastic bag Kacchan had brought with him. He pulled out a still warm container of miso soup and the stomach made a noise again.
“Chop, chop, bunny boy, I didn’t make all these for you to leave them ‘til they’re cold,” Kacchan said, standing up and nudging Izuku’s ankle with his foot. “And you need a shower after. I could smell your sweaty pits all the way from the front door.”
Izuku laughed loudly before standing up and following Kacchan to the kitchen. “Kacchan meanie!”
In hindsight, Izuku really, really should’ve realized it sooner.
After Kacchan’s confession that evening, everything became glaringly obvious to him.
For instance, how Kacchan would act whenever he had to make work-related phone calls.
One time when the head of Kacchan’s assessment department had called him to talk about the most recent cost of structural damage Kacchan had caused in a battle, the explosion hero had paced around the room from one side to the other throughout the entire exchange. When Endeavor called Kacchan to talk about joint training for the new recruits, Kacchan had bounced his leg impatiently from the start of the call until he had to hang up. Sometimes he even started to sweat and his breathing got too labored that he had to clench his jaws when whoever was talking on the other side took their sweet, sweet time to get their point across.
Kacchan had no problem responding to his earpiece and answering strategic commands during battle. In missions, they had people talking in their ear non-stop from the beginning of the operation until the criminals were found and arrested, and when Izuku started to be more observant, he found that Kacchan didn’t mind that. Keeping his comms on and talking through it wasn’t something he minded.
In contrary, Kacchan almost always declined the calls from their friends or waited until it stopped ringing on its own, shooting a text to them afterwards. He would only pick up if they text him back saying that something was urgent.
Izuku did his research in the meantime.
Telephobia, the internet informed him.
Turns out, many other people had it too. Kacchan wasn’t the only one. The internet said that having people close to the sufferer know about their condition could help with the anxiety.
They were having dinner in Kacchan’s apartment when the blond’s phone on the table vibrated, making both of them look at the caller’s ID. It was from Jirou, probably phoning Katsuki to talk about their planned get-together in the form of band practice (“for old time’s sake”, as Jirou and Kaminari put it).
Izuku watched Kacchan stare at the screen until the buzzing dissipated, and after shoving rice inside his mouth two more times, Kacchan picked up his phone and typed down a message. He must’ve noticed Izuku staring because he froze in his tracks for a few seconds before setting the device down on the table.
“I don’t hate it,” Kacchan said, breaking the silence, raising his chopsticks up, “I just prefer not to do it sometimes.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku said, reaching between them and takes hold of the hand that Kacchan didn’t use to hold his utensil, “it’s okay.”
Kacchan stared into his eyes in return, red and green, as it always had been, before turning his hand palm-up and giving Izuku’s fingers a squeeze.
“Is it okay if I ask you if you’re up to it before I call you?”
Kacchan nodded. Izuku stood up from his chair and rounded the table to wrap his arms around Kacchan’s neck in a hug, whispering his thanks.
Izuku 7:21 AM
[ Morning, Kacchan! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ]
[ Can I call you? ]
Katsuki 7:44 AM
[ Yeah ]
Izuku 7:46 AM
[ Okie! Thank you! ]
Izuku 7:46 AM
Incoming Call
Izuku 10:13 PM
[ Hey, Kacchan ]
[ Can I call you? ]
Katsuki 10:15 PM
[ Still doing laundry ]
Izuku 10:17 PM
[ Haha, Kacchan! I told you it’s okay to say no if you’re not feeling like it! ]
[ I just miss you, that’s all ]
[ We can just text if you want to ]
Katsuki 10:18 PM
[ Thanks ]
[ And sorry ]
Izuku 10:18 PM
[ It’s okayyyy （。＞ω＜）。]
Katsuki 10:19 PM
[ Coin laundries here suck ass. They don’t have the detergent we like ]
Izuku 10:20 PM
[ I can mail you some ]
Katsuki 10:21 PM
[ Nah, it’s fine ]
[ We’re going to wrap it up next week anyway ]
Izuku 10:22 PM
[ Next week??????? ]
[ Yessss ]
[ Can’t wait to see you! (*≧∀≦*) ]
Katsuki 10:25 PM
[ Pipe it down, nerd ]
[ I can hear your squeals from ten prefectures away ]
[ Miss you too ]
Izuku genuinely forgot about it one day when the hero course student that interned under him came up and told him that there was an emergency rescue operation downtown that Pro Hero Dynamight was involved in.
He had been too busy with busting the hideout of a menacing group of violent smugglers that he didn’t have time to check on the news throughout the day. He opened his laptop when he got to his desk, quickly spotting the operation info on the front page of the hero bulletin.
A fire sourced from a stove left unattended had raged in the run-down apartment building located on the outskirts of the city. The poor condition of the structure had caused the fire to spread in record time. All heroes stationed near the area were called to handle the situation immediately, tasked in getting residents out of the collapsing place and others with suitable quirks in putting the fire out.
Dynamight had been helping out at a nearby agency when the incident happened, so he was automatically called to the site as well.
Izuku read the report further.
The heroes and rescue team had managed to get everyone out before the building burned down—everyone but a little girl who had been in the bathroom before the fire spreaded out and her grandmother passed out from the thick smoke.
When the grandmother woke up, still on a stretcher, screaming for the medics surrounding her to let her see her granddaughter, it was already too late. The supposedly 10 stories apartment complex had already been levelled into a large pile of scorched cement and ashes.
When the smoke had started to settle, the wails of fire truck sirens and cries of the grandmother dominating over the sizzling of leftover embers, they started to work through the rubble. A piece of torn orange sun dress and a blackened arm sticking out from under broken bars were found, and the area fell into a deafening silence as the late girl's poor grandmother passed out once more and everyone present was stunned in grief.
Izuku shut his laptop lid and pulled out his phone from his pocket.
He knew what Kacchan must’ve felt. He himself had been in that very spot way more times than he would ever like. Thus was the pain of Pro Heroes. You just could never save everyone, no matter how hard you tried.
Izuku remembered what All Might had told him when he asked him if he had ever failed to save anyone. The answer wasn’t what he hoped, but he knew it was realistic. The first few years of being a Pro had been tough on Izuku. He spent hours locked up in the agency bathroom or his own room, torturing himself with ridiculous tauntings, until someone came and saved him from the misery.
He remembered a time when he was haunted with the image of broken and bloodied bodies under debris after an attack, the memory so vividly gruesome that he broke down on the way home. He still didn’t know how Kacchan found him, but what he could recall in perfect clarity was seeing concerned red eyes looking at him, pulling him from the cloud of sorrow, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders and tucked him to a firm chest all the way to his stop.
Izuku checked the time, figuring that Kachhan was either still in his office or already home, paperworks understandably postponed to be completed at a later time.
Without much thinking, he pressed a button in his phone and held it up to his ear. The line rang three times before it was cut off with a beep and then… nothing.
The call was declined.
Like a lightning in broad daylight it hit Izuku about what he had just done and he frantically opened his messaging app to fire off an apology to his boyfriend, but Kacchan beat him to it.
Katsuki 7:28 PM
[ Sorry. ]
Izuku's heart clenched in his chest. He longed to cradle the man in his arms and provide him with whatever he needed.
Izuku 7:28 PM
[ It’s okay Kacchan, I’m sorry too ]
[ Do you want me to come over? ]
When he still hadn’t received a reply after 2 minutes, Izuku put the device down on his desk and padded to the locker room down the hall to change out of his costume. If what Kacchan needed was some alone time, Izuku would definitely give him exactly that. He understood that a lot of times Kacchan would try to sort out his head in private, and Izuku also knew that Kacchan would need someone to be with him afterwards, but he tended to need some time by himself first.
Izuku returned to his office and picked up his bag, noticing the lit up screen of his phone. There was a new notification.
Katsuki 7:39 PM
[ Please. ]
Izuku threw his phone into the front pocket of his bag and rushed to his boyfriend's place.
The first thing Izuku registered as he blinked his eyes open was the overwhelming scent of antiseptic.
And then the throbbing pain on his abdomen followed right after.
He groaned and flew his hand to the bedside table, intending to look for a glass of water, but found his phone instead. He took it and unlocked the screen and saw several missed calls.
Ten, to be exact. All of them are from Kacchan.
An absolute rarity.
Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. Did no one care to inform Kacchan that Izuku got injured at work and had to be operated on? If that was the case, then Kacchan must’ve been worried sick and oh no Izuku had to–
Oh.
He turned his head to the side and was met with a head full of ash blond hair, pillowed by a forearm. The man in concern seemed to be asleep, his back rising at every steady breath he took. Izuku raised his hand and stroked his boyfriend's hair in a loving manner, suddenly overwhelmed with fondness, thanking the heavens that he still got to experience touching Katsuki for another day.
The blond stirred awake and lifted his head, sleep-addled red eyes boring into Izuku's own green ones. Izuku smiled at the man.
"Hi, Kacchan."
Katsuki wasted no time in lunging forward and bringing him into a hug. The hug was less tight than what the explosion hero usually gave him, him being mindful of Izuku's wound.
"Izuku. Fuck." Kacchan buried his face deeper against Izuku's neck, breathing in deeply.
"Hi, Kacchan," Izuku repeated. "I'm here."
"You're here," Katsuki murmured, voice muffled by the skin his lips were pressed onto.
"I saw your missed calls. Was there anything you wanted to say to me? They didn’t keep you in the dark, did they?"
Kacchan was silent for a while. Izuku's hand never stopped touching Kacchan’s back, rubbing up and down his shirt soothingly, and Kacchan never once let go of his hold.
"I thought about it," he spoke, finally.
"Hm?" Izuku hummed softly, encouraging him to continue.
"I thought about it, you know. The possibility of either one of us dying. I mean, that ain't even far from the range of possibility in this line of work."
Izuku nodded in agreement. He, too, had his fair share of worrying about both of their increased probability of mortality. He didn’t like to dwell on that thought for too long though.
"When Half 'n Half went to me and said that you were down, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Which was funny because this isn't even the worst injury you've gotten and you were only unconscious because they had to perform surgery on your abdomen and put you under general anesthesia.
“But I kept thinking about it. What if you died and there were still a lot of things we haven't done? Then I imagined if our places were reversed. What if I died and there were things you still wanted to do with me but haven’t? What if you haven't heard my voice enough? Just because I couldn't get over my stupid phone call anxiety?"
"Kacchan, I told you it's not stu–"
"No, shut up. Just listen to me. While you were in the operation room, I– I don't know." He was silent again for a moment, and when he started speaking, his voice was colored with a tint of embarrassment.
"I just felt like I had to hear your voice, y’know? Even though you were right fucking there, sleeping through your surgery like the baby you are, and I knew you would be okay. But I missed it. So I called your phone just to listen to your stupid nerdy voice in the voicemail. And then I realized it was stupidly selfish of me for not giving it to you back, all this time, while you had always wanted it. And yes, I damn well know it's okay, but I wanted to give you what you deserve. You deserve getting what you want, Izuku."
Izuku surprised himself when he felt a tear fall on his cheek. He let out a small laugh and tightened his arms around his boyfriend, the love of his life. "Kacchan…"
Kacchan pulled his head back and finally looked into Izuku's eyes. "You… You can call me anytime you want. I… There might still be times when I'm struggling with it, and I'm sorry in advance, but," he laced their fingers together, "you gotta help me out, Izuku. Promise me.”
Izuku smiled despite his vision getting blurred by tears and took Katsuki's face between his hands. "Of course, Kacchan. Thank you."
“I’m gonna talk to my therapist too.”
Izuku felt like sobbing his heart out in joy. “Thank you, Kacchan, thank you.”
They met halfway for a kiss, and Izuku could barely count in one hand the times when he had felt happier than he had been inside that hospital room.
They broke off, gasping for breath, and Izuku flushed slightly at the view of Kacchan’s red, glistening lips.
“I love you so much,” Izuku whispered.
"Your breath stinks," the blond said, and Izuku barely had the time to laugh before his own lips were recaptured in a fierce kiss.
Izuku hung his towel on the rack placed right outside the window and stepped out into the balcony, welcoming the ocean breeze with a content take of breath. He was about to bend down to take out his folder and go over the details for tomorrow’s plans when his phone chimed with a special ringtone.
A smile made its way onto his face as he straightened up and went back inside and grabbed the device.
“Hey, Kacchan,” he said into the microphone, still smiling.
“Where are you?” the man on the other side of the conversation said.
“Italy,” Izuku chuckled, making his way outside once again before settling on the wooden chair at the far corner.
“Dipshit. I can hear the waves. Are you outside?”
“Yeah, the view’s gorgeous. We should come here together sometime.”
“Sort out that workaholic ass of yours first then we’ll talk vacations.”
Izuku laughed. “Kacchan! I’m handling it better!”
Kacchan let out an amused grunt at the other line and Izuku couldn’t keep the fondness from his voice even if he tried.
“What are you going to do today?”
“Visit my dad and the old hag, probably. Need me to bring something for Auntie?”
“Hmm… Oh! Can you give her the red handbag we bought last Sunday? I think I kept it in the closet.”
“...Found it. Anything else?”
“I know you’re gonna buy her some peonies.”
“I’m gonna buy her a new son since her only one keeps going on overseas missions.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Met any hot Italian dude yet?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Not gonna shag one of ‘em up?”
“Nah, no thanks. Got the best one back home.”
“Cheeky.”
“Besides, none of them had tits as big as yours.”
“The fuck?! You’ve been ogling them, haven’t you?”
Another laugh. “I miss you, Kacchan.”
“Now you’re just trying to divert the conversation.”
“I’m serious! Ah, you’re sooo unromantic.”
“That wasn’t what you said on Tokyo Tower.”
Izuku’s face went ablaze as he remembered the night Kacchan had set up a candlelit dinner surprise on top of Tokyo Tower for their anniversary. “You got me there.”
Silence comfortably stretched between them as they were lost in their own thoughts.
“Kacchan?”
“Hm?”
“Wanna stay with me while I review tomorrow’s plan?”
“Sure. As long as you share it with me.”
Izuku laughed again. He sure had laughed a lot for the past few minutes, amazing what a certain blond with a mouth of a sailor could do.
“Classified, Kacchan.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
The call went on until Kacchan finished making lunch and had to go and Izuku needed to get some sleep. If the villain in Italy had their ass handed to them by Hero Deku the next day, no one would have known that the secret to the immense raw power behind it was a late night phone call that gave the hero so much energy.
Katsuki 9:49 PM
Missed Call
Katsuki 9:50 PM
Missed Call
Katsuki 9:51 PM
[ Oi, pick up ]
Katsuki 9:52 PM
Missed Call
Katsuki 9:53 PM
Incoming Call
Click.
"Hi, Kacchan! Sorry, I was in the shower. Just got out."
"Fuck your hygiene. You left me hanging for ten minutes."
"I'm sorryyyyy! How's your day, Kacchan? How's Hokkaido?"
"Cold as balls. Mine needs some warming up."
"Haha, what do you mean?"
"Check your texts."
"Huh?"
Katsuki 9:55 PM
Image Attachment
"..."
"...Shit."
"Like what you see, you damn nerd?"
"Fuck, yeah, I– Ouch! God."
"The fuck?"
"Hit my hip on the counter. Damn."
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Shut up."
"Go to the bed. Get on all fours."
"Yeah, okay, yeah."
"Strip."
"Yeah, let me just-"
Rustle, rustle.
"I'm done, I'm done."
Katsuki 9:55 PM
Incoming Video Call
"Fuck, Kacchan."
Click.