After The Rain [Chapter 7 - Red]

[Last Chapter] 

Katsuki had fucked it all up.

The universe had seen fit to put Izuku back into his life, to give him a chance to make things right, to be happy, and he’d gone and fucked it up.

And there wasn’t even anyone he could talk to about it.

It wasn’t like he could show up at his therapist’s office and tell her “I kissed him like a god-damn idiot and now I can never show my face around him ever again” – she wouldn’t get it, she would want him to communicate and all that other stupid shit that Katsuki hated.

How the fuck would someone even begin to communicate about that, anyway? It wasn’t like he could apologise for it, because he sure as hell wasn’t sorry, and even if he had been, Izuku would just have laughed awkwardly and said he forgave him, even if it wasn’t true. And it wasn’t like they could talk about it, because poor Izuku wouldn’t know what to say if he admitted he was feeling things, if he admitted that he wanted things – wanted to kiss him, mostly, but also hold his hand, lean into him when they sat on the couch together, share their food like a stupid, sappy couple on their anniversary – if he told Izuku he wanted anything from him, it was all going to be ruined. He didn’t deserve anything, not from Izuku, and he would never allow Izuku to pity him so much that he actually caved and did things just for Katsuki’s sake – stupid self-sacrificing nerd that he was.

God, why was he so fucking stupid? He’d had a good thing going, for once! He’d made an amazing friend, someone who actually, inexplicably, enjoyed his company, and he’d gone and fucked it up.

He glanced at his phone screen, at the dozen unanswered messages, and immediately set it down again. He couldn’t bring himself to read them, didn’t want to see the pity they held, refused to entertain the idea that everything might be okay, or worse, to see Izuku letting him down gently, feeling sorry for stupid, fucked-up Katsuki.

No way was he going to subject himself to that stupid shit.

“Katsuki?” Masaru asked, knocking lightly on his bedroom door. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

It was only half a lie, since he’d barely slept. The better, more accurate answer would have been like shit but tired would do, too.

“Are you hungry? I just made lunch, if you want some.”

“No.”

That one was a lie. He was starving. But he didn’t deserve his father’s care, didn’t deserve home-cooked meals full of stupid fatherly love. Maybe dry bread, or plain rice, when he could drag himself up to eat them.

“Are you sure?” Masaru asked. “How about I just leave it here in case you change your mind?”

Damn him, he always seemed to know.

Katsuki didn’t answer, so Masaru took that as an invitation, gently pushing the door open to let himself in. The threadbare curtains were drawn, barely making a difference to the light pouring in, but Masaru turned on the bedside lamp anyway, putting a little light into Katsuki’s depressing world.

“Try some, for me,” he said quietly, setting the bowl down on Katsuki’s bedside table. “You always seem to feel a little better after a good meal.”

Katsuki’s stomach growled, like the traitor it was, and Katsuki reluctantly sat himself up against the headboard, still refusing to meet Masaru’s concerned gaze. The desk chair still remained at his bedside, unmoved since Masaru’s last visit, and he sat down it again as Katsuki stared at the food.

“Thanks,” he conceded, picking up the bowl. “I guess I’m kinda hungry.”

“Sometimes it just takes seeing it or smelling it to realise you haven’t eaten in a while!”

Katsuki felt his throat swell when he looked into the bowl, swallowing hard to try to dislodge the lump before it could take over. His vision blurred a little, but he refused to give in, gripping the bowl a little tighter in his lap.

“Omurice,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper compared to his usual tone.

“With the spicy chicken,” Masaru assured him. “It always made you feel better when you were little, so I thought maybe it would help now, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, Katsuki. You know I’d do anything to help you out, even if you don’t need help. If all I can do is make you food that you like, I’ll happily do it every single day.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Katsuki,” Masaru said sternly, sitting down on the edge of the bed to get closer. “You don’t have to deserve me. You’re my son, and I love you more than anything, and you could do a thousand awful things and I would still love you. You don’t need to earn my love, you have it no matter what. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t done anything even remotely close to being bad enough that you wouldn’t deserve me. I’ve never been a perfect parent, not by miles – if anything, you deserve better than me. I should have noticed that something was wrong years ago, should have been there to help you before it got so bad, shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to do well in school. There are so many things I should have done differently, I wish I’d been a better Dad for you.”

“No such thing.”

Masaru paused, watching as Katsuki took a few bites of food, then managed a soft little smile.

“Then I guess we’re just both too good for each other,” he chuckled. “And not good enough for each other, all at the same time. Sounds like it balances out nicely. Maybe we’re perfect for each other after all.”

“Sap.”

“That’s nothing new.”

He leaned over, planting a stupid, cheesy kiss on Katsuki’s hair, laughing when Katsuki’s face screwed up in response the same way it always had when he was a child.

“Eat up,” he said firmly. “I’m going out to pick up your mother soon, she doesn’t want to walk so far in this weather. Do you need anything while I’m out? I won’t be long, but I’m happy to stop and get anything you might need.”

“I’m good,” Katsuki answered, rolling his eyes at himself for the irony. “I’ll be here.”

“Good, I’m looking forward to it.”

He ruffled Katsuki’s hair one last time, stepping out to let him eat in peace, and Katsuki finally gave in to the warm bowl in his hands, the hot comfort food within. His mouth had been watering over it before he even started, let alone once he’d started eating it. Besides, if his Dad had gone through all that effort to make it for him, he supposed it would be rude not to eat it.

Downstairs, the faint sound of footsteps and keys jingling told him Masaru was getting ready to head out, gathering his things from where they’d been scattered throughout the house – despite what most people expected, Masaru was anything but organised – but the muffled voice when he finally opened the door to head out surprised him. Was Masaru talking to himself? That was usually Mitsuki’s realm of expertise, he didn’t know the habit had rubbed off on Masaru too.

The door closed again, and then Katsuki heard footsteps padding up the stairs toward him – old man must have been getting senile, with the mumbling and the forgetting things. Katsuki had thought he’d get another decade before that started to set in, but apparently Masaru was showing his age a lot sooner than expected. That or he wanted to say another goodbye, let Katsuki know he was officially leaving. That wouldn’t have surprised him nearly as much as losing his mind so early in life would have.

A gentle knock tapped on Katsuki’s door, and he very nearly spilled his lunch all over the duvet when he heard the quiet voice sound through the wood.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki’s brain had never moved faster than it did in that moment. How long would it take him to leap out of bed? Could he do it quietly enough that Izuku wouldn’t notice the noise? Would the hot food give him away? Could he take it with him? How much would it hurt to jump out the window? Would that be significantly increased if one hand was holding a bowl of omurice? Would his omurice get dirty or spilled if he did? He still wanted to eat it, after all. How long would it take to put pants on before jumping out the window? Where were his pants? Would his neighbours call the police if he jumped out the window with a bowl of delicious omurice in his hand and exactly zero pants on? Could he land with no hands so he could hold his bowl in one hand and his pants in the other, thereby saving the time it would take to put them on first? Would he break his leg if he tried? Could he still get his pants on with a broken leg?

“Your dad said I could come up,” Izuku explained, poking his head inside before Katsuki could lay eyes on his discarded sweatpants. “You weren’t answering my messages, so I thought I’d just come by and check on you instead. Did you lose your phone?”

His eyes landed on it the moment he said the words, sitting discarded on the other side of the bed, still plugged into the charger from the night prior.

Katsuki really had no excuse for that one.

“Okay, not lost,” Izuku smiled faintly, when Katsuki didn’t answer. “Can I sit?”

He took Masaru’s seat before Katsuki could object, and Katsuki huffed quietly. When had the nerd become so damn bold?

“You should eat before it gets cold,” he suggested. “Your dad said he’d just given you lunch.”

“Mm.”

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re not eyeing up the window because you want me to close it?”

“No,” Katsuki grumbled. “M’fine.”

“It wouldn’t make a very good escape route, not from this high up.”

“Especially when I’m not wearing pants.”

Izuku laughed brightly, and Katsuki couldn’t resist a tiny smile of his own. Izuku seemed to have that effect on him, even when he was in a terrible mood.

“Here,” Izuku offered, setting a little plastic bottle down on the bedside table. “Your dad said you didn’t take them this morning, and he thought it might help. We figured it might be better for me to suggest it than him, I know you don’t like it when your parents tell you what to do.”

Katsuki grimaced, but picked it up all the same, tapping a pill out into his hand and swallowing it dry. The taste was terrible, but he hadn’t thought to take a water bottle to bed with him in his mortification the night prior, and there was no way in hell he was gonna ask Izuku for one.

“I’m gonna get you a drink,” Izuku said, as if he could read Katsuki’s mind, now. “Don’t run away, you don’t have time to put pants on.”

“Bet I do,” Katsuki countered, but made no effort to move. “Whatever.”

Izuku just grinned, disappearing back down the stairs, and Katsuki continued to work his way through his lunch. As tempting as it was to snatch some pants and make a jump for it, his food really was good, and he wanted to empty the bowl first.

“Okay,” Izuku said firmly, when he returned with a bottle of water in hand, pushing it into Katsuki’s grip insistently. “Let’s talk.”

“How about we don’t.”

“Too late, you should have put pants on.”

“Pants are for losers.”

“Good, then let’s start.”

“Ugh.”

“If you don’t want to talk, I’ll talk, and you can listen.”

“Ughhhhh.”

“Fine, you talk then, and I’ll listen.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Kacchan, please,” Izuku chuckled. “I’m trying to be serious here! Stop making me laugh!”

“Never.”

Despite his argument, Katsuki closed his mouth, nodding faintly for Izuku to get it over with. Maybe if he stuffed his face with enough omurice, he wouldn’t get too stupid and emotional over the nerd’s bullshit, wouldn’t blurt out anything too idiotic.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Izuku began, so firmly that for a moment, Katsuki actually believed him. “I don’t care what you do, that won’t change. You can yell at me, ignore me, whatever, and I’ll still be here. I will not let you push me away. Do I make myself clear?”

“What are you, my mother?”

“I’m serious, Kacchan. Ignore my calls, I’ll leave messages. Ignore my messages, I’ll show up at your door. Run away, I’ll chase you. I don’t care. I’m not letting you shut me out.”

“Why would you waste all that effort on me.”

“Because it’s not a waste. I like you, Kacchan, and I want you in my life. Whatever that means. I know it’s easy to get caught up in a moment, to do things or say things you don’t mean, but whatever you want from me, I’ll gladly give it. Whatever I can do to help you, I’ll happily do it. Whatever it takes to keep you around, to keep you something at least remotely close to happy, I will not hesitate.”

“You’d be better off just forgetting about me. Put your time into stuff that will help you, not hold you back.”

“I won’t lose you, Katsuki. I won’t.”

On reflex, Katsuki glanced over at him, regretting it immediately when he saw how much pain, how much concern, and how much god-damn stubbornness waited for him in those emerald eyes.

“I mean it. If I have to sit here at your bedside every minute of every damn day, I’ll do it, but I will not lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Katsuki forced out. “I’m not...”

“Good. Because I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” Katsuki huffed. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission you damn nerd.”

“Yup! All disappearances require the correct paperwork to be filed through me first! And I will reject them, so don’t waste your time!”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

They fell silent for a moment, Katsuki staring into the scraps of his lunch while Izuku’s eyes roamed over the old, faded All Might merch decorating Katsuki’s bedroom.

“Listen,” Izuku began awkwardly. “I understand, okay? You got caught up in the moment and did something you regret, I get it. I’m not mad at you, and I think it would be a silly thing to drive us apart after how much fun we’ve had together lately. If you want to just pretend it never happened, I’m okay with that. But I’m also okay with talking about it, if there’s anything... You want to say. About it. About... I don’t know. Why you reacted that way, or something. Forget it, we can just go with the first option! Or better yet, we can just move on! It’s no big deal! I’m glad we’re uhh, good enough friends for... All of this.”

“I just... Fucking hate emotions.”

“I know,” Izuku chuckled. “They can be really hard sometimes, I know that all too well! But that’s probably something your therapist is more equipped to handle than I am. I’m always happy to listen to you, though! I just... Might not have the best answers, I guess.”

“Pfft. Like I’m gonna tell her I... You know.”

“You don’t want to talk to her about kissing your childhood friend?” Izuku teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips in a way that made Katsuki’s heart pound. “I can’t understand why.”

“Don’t say that word.”

“You don’t want me to say kissing?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh no, no way. I didn’t know the word would make you squirm so much.”

“Fuck off.”

“But seriously, I know you’ll hate this word too, but I know you’re kinda vulnerable right now, with everything going on. Sometimes things just happen, when we’re not sure exactly what we’re feeling or how to process it, and I just want you to know that it’s fine, okay? One day I’ll stand up as the best man at your wedding and tell everyone how you kissed me that one time because I painted you a picture, and we’ll all laugh about it!”

“Don’t you dare,” Katsuki growled, face burning hot.

“I’m glad you liked my painting so much.”

“Of course I fucking did, you made it for me, with all the things you knew I liked, how could I not like it?”

“I’m still glad you did! I did my best to make sure you would love it. Only the best for Kacchan!”

The room fell silent with that, and Katsuki couldn’t help but feel a tension weighing down on them. It was like a string had been tied between them, had always been between them, always guiding them to eventually come back to each other. And that string had suddenly pulled itself stupidly tight, not even twenty-four hours ago, had wound them in closer and closer until Katsuki had given in and kissed him, and it had refused to loosen up again since. That string just kept pulling at him, dragging him in closer, willing him to reach out and touch Izuku’s twitching, fidgeting hand.

“Deku,” he began, his voice pathetically weak. “Izuku. I... I like this. Us.”

“Me too!” Izuku beamed. “I’m so happy we’re friends again! Spending time with you has been amazing, the best weeks of my life!”

“No, I mean... Well, yeah, me too, but... I’m, um...”

“You’re what, Kacchan? You’re not trying to apologise, are you? I don’t need an apology, it was totally fine with me!”

“No, not that.”

“Okay, good! You’re what, then?”

Katsuki grimaced, and Izuku waited patiently, still smiling as he let Katsuki mull over his words.

“I don’t regret it,” he said finally.

“I’m glad.”

“I mean...”

“Kacchan,” Izuku said softly. “You’ve got a lot going on right now, we both know that. You don’t have to understand every emotion, or every reaction to them, or every thought that you have. You’re allowed to... To feel things that don’t always make sense, you know? And we can talk about it, if you want.”

“I want to do it again.”

Izuku blinked at him, taken aback, but then his smile returned again, despite his eyes not matching up.

“Well, you’re probably a bit touch-starved since leaving your ex, right? So that makes sense, we all need a little intimacy sometimes! I know you’re not exactly the huggy type, especially with your parents, so I totally get why you’d be craving affection!”

“I fucking like you, okay?! God damn it, you’re dense!”

“It’s totally normal to feel stuff like that when you get close to someone! But it wouldn’t be fair of me to take advantage of you while you’re vulnerable, I wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re all confused about what you’re feeling!”

“I’m not fucking confused, Deku, I just want to kiss your stupid fucking face, okay?!”

Izuku’s smile faded, and Katsuki immediately regretted his words – he’d had the perfect opportunity to move on like nothing had ever happened, and he’d gone and blown it.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said quietly, his voice shaky. “I love you, I’ve loved you for a long time, and I think maybe I’ve been... Letting that out more than I should have, and it’s getting you all mixed up, and-”

“If you love me then fucking kiss me.”

“Kacchan.”

“I’m not some pathetic, weak little kid. I know what I feel. Hell, even my fucking therapist knows – she’s known for fucking weeks even if she never said it directly. Stop looking down on me, just let me fucking love you!”

“Kacchan-”

“No! Don’t you dare belittle my feelings just because you don’t like them, don’t give me that shit!”

“Kacchan, I-”

“I swear to God, nerd, if you start any more of that bullshit about not understanding my own thoughts, I’m gonna-”

“Kacchan!”

“What?!”

“I love you too, you big idiot.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Don’t you call me an idiot, you damn nerd!”

“Oh, that’s the part you choose to fixate on? Typical!”

“Don’t try to turn this on me, asshole!”

“Just put some damn pants on and let me take you on a date!”

“No!” Katsuki pouted, setting his empty bowl down and rolling onto his side stubbornly. “I’m comfy!”

“Why are you so stubborn?!”

“I’m not stubborn!”

Despite himself, Katsuki couldn’t help but crack a smile when Izuku laughed at him brightly, quickly pulling the blankets up to hide it. A warm weight landed on top of him, draping itself over his hunched form, and Katsuki grunted as he tried to shrug it off.

“Snuggles for Kacchan,” Izuku insisted, worming his arms under the blankets to hug Katsuki a little tighter. “You can’t fight me off when you’re bundled up in blankies, it’s perfect.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s a little far for our first date, don’t you think?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Katsuki snorted, and Izuku giggled above him, his whole body jiggling as he struggled to keep his balance atop Katsuki’s side.

“You’re such an idiot,” Katsuki huffed, poking his head out despite his face still burning bright red.

“And you looooooove me.”

“God knows why,” he chuckled faintly. “Get over here, let me hug you back.”

“Gladly!”

He rolled off Katsuki with a quiet thump that made the mattress bounce beneath him, Katsuki quickly grabbing him to keep him from rolling off the bed entirely. Izuku giggled to himself as he wriggled closer, letting Katsuki absorb him into a hug, tucking his head into the crook of Katsuki’s neck and getting comfy.

“You sleepy?” he whispered, his breath tickling Katsuki’s neck.

“A little,” Katsuki admitted. “Didn’t sleep great.”

“You wanna take a nap?”

“Mm... Maybe.”

“I’ll stay with you, chase away the bad dreams.”

Katsuki opened his mouth to object, but quickly slammed it shut again, pausing a moment longer to consider his words more carefully.

“Fine,” he said instead, choking back his arguments. “Stay with me.”

“I’d love to.”

“And tomorrow I’m taking you on a date. A real one. No generic unlabelled dates like Build-A-Bear this time.”

“It was a good date,” Izuku pouted.

“A great date, but you didn’t tell me it was a date, asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” Izuku admitted, reaching for Ana to absorb her into their cuddles. “Where are we gonna go this time?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You just haven’t thought of it yet.”

“Haah?! I have a thousand great dates filed away in my brain, dickhead.”

“Oh? You’ve been thinking about dates with me that much?”

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

Despite his objection, Izuku shut his mouth, smiling to himself faintly as he snuggled deeper into Katsuki’s arms.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, pressing his lips to Katsuki’s jaw lightly. “Thanks for telling me, I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki huffed. “Stop talking.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it! Your face is all red, it’s super cute.”

“I’m leaving.”

Izuku grinned, shifting one hand to run through Katsuki’s hair, amused when he felt Katsuki shiver a little at the touch.

“You can’t leave,” Izuku hummed, brushing blond spikes back from Katsuki’s forehead and kissing it lightly. “You’re stuck here with me.”

“Mm... Why?” Katsuki grumbled, embarrassingly placated by the gentle caresses.

“You’re still not wearing pants.”

─────

“Where are we going?” Izuku asked, bouncing on his toes eagerly as they stood at the train doors. “I don’t know this area very well, is it something exciting? Or something cute and sappy? Or uh... Something scary, to make me cuddle up to you?”

“Impatient fucker,” Katsuki snorted. “Just wait and see.”

“But I hate waiting!” he whined, tugging at Katsuki’s arm stubbornly. “Just a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Meanie.”

Katsuki just smirked at him, amused when Izuku beamed back, his pout not strong enough to outweigh the force of his damn smile.

“This way,” he instructed, when the doors slid open and they stepped onto the platform. “Close your eyes.”

“I’m not closing my eyes! We’re walking!”

“You don’t trust me to guide you?”

“Of course I do! But I’m not very coordinated.”

“True,” Katsuki agreed, ignoring the little pout Izuku shot him again for it. “Fine, eyes open.”

“Meanie.”

Katsuki squeezed his hand a little tighter, dragging him betweenthe lines of people waiting and up a flight of concrete stairs, avoiding a few hurried commuters sprinting to catch their trains. It was only a few minutes’ walk from the train station to the perfect store for their perfect first date, but Katsuki still found himself growing anxious along the way, his stomach buzzing harder with every metre closer that they got.

“Okay,” he said finally, as they turned into the right street and stopped outside a little store with a comparatively massive window in the front. “We’re here.”

Izuku’s eyes shone as he looked in, seeing a few scattered people sitting at little tables, hands covered in paint as they laughed together. It was the kind of scene he saw in old Christmas movies, all happy-go-lucky families gathered together to share the holiday season – except it was just any ordinary date on the calendar, made special only by Katsuki deciding it would be the day they finally went on their first official date.

Izuku still maintained that they’d been on at least two already, but whatever made Katsuki happy!

“Figured we could paint some mugs or some shit,” Katsuki explained awkwardly. “Something... Slightly different. From your usual art, I mean.”

“I’m so excited!” Izuku beamed. “Would you believe I’ve never done this before?”

“Seriously? Not even as a little kid?”

“I wasn’t exactly invited to a lot of birthday parties,” Izuku reminded him, with an awkward little chuckle. “You’ll have to teach me!”

“Yeah right,” Katsuki snorted. “Come on, let’s go try it out.”

“Yeah!”

He laced his fingers through Katsuki’s, and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile faintly, the tension seeping out of his hunched shoulders. He should’ve known Izuku would like it – he had known Izuku would like it – but somehow it wasn’t so easy to just... have faith.

The staff took them to a table off in a corner, where they could have a space together, away from the few other patrons who shared the store with them – he wished, for the first time ever, that tipping was a thing there, so he could thank them for that.

Izuku sat right next to him, not across the table or at a short distance, but close enough for their thighs to touch, for that smile to risk blinding him if he looked directly at it.

“I’m so fucking gone,” Katsuki mumbled, feeling his face burn. “Why the fuck am I such a sap?”

“Because you liiiiiiiiike me,” Izuku sang. “What do you think, mugs? Plates? Cookie jars? What about a flower pot? You could get into gardening.”

“I don’t have the patience for that shit,” Katsuki scoffed, smiling a little all the same when Izuku laughed at him. “What do you want me to make you?”

Izuku’s smile stretched impossibly wider, and Katsuki felt his face growing warm again.

“Maybe mugs? For when we curl up on the sofa with our blankets and our hot chocolates.”

“Cheesy,” Katsuki scoffed, picking out a mug all the same. “Such a nerd.”

“You looooove it.”

“Whatever.”

The staff member returned quickly with two mugs, giving them a few quick instructions, and then they were left to their own devices. The table was already stocked with paints and tools, including a range of things Katsuki had never even seen before, or at least had never associated with painting.

What had he gotten himself into?

Izuku was already sketching out pencil designs on his mug, tongue poking out the corner of his lips in concentration, but Katsuki’s mind had suddenly gone blank. He had no ideas, no thoughts, nothing but Izuku’s happy little humming echoing around the empty chamber of his skull.

Red.

Izuku’s favourite colour was red, like his dumb shoes, and the patterns on All Might’s costume in the old comics, and maybe a little like Katsuki’s eyes. He would start with red.

He picked out a big brush and a decent shade of red, beginning the process of coating the mug in it, but before he made it even halfway around, his hands and the table were all covered in paint – he was pretty sure his hands were redder than the stupid, streaky mug was. Izuku was still chattering away, but Katsuki has quickly lost track of what he was saying, too busy clenching his fists to keep from throwing the mug across the room.

“Everything okay, Kacchan?” Izuku asked gently, nudging him with his knee. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Katsuki answered quickly – Izuku didn’t need to deal with his bullshit on their first date. “M’fine, what were you saying?”

“Are you sure?” Izuku tilted his head, considering the clawed fingers and hunched shoulders beside him. “Kacchan, if you’re not okay, I want to know.”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, eyes darting away, and he wiped his tense hands on the paper tablecloth protecting their table.

“I’m just a shitty artist,” he forced out, voice pathetically quiet. “S-Sorry.”

“What? No! Don’t apologise, Kacchan!” Izuku insisted, quickly wiping his hands before he reached  for Katsuki’s. “There’s no such thing as a bad artist, anyway!”

“Clearly there is,” Katsuki snorted, staring at the blurry, wonky patches of colour that definitely had not been an attempt at hearts. “I just... wanted to make you something nice.”

“Aww, Kacchan! If it comes from you, I’d love it no matter what!”

“You’ve been... really helpful. Since I’ve been back, and all. Even though I was a total dick to you when we were younger, you still wanted to help. And did help. And... I like you. So. Yeah.”

“I’m gonna love it,” Izuku promised, eyes watery. “I like you too, Kacchan, and having a gift from you, no matter what it is, is always gonna make me stupidly happy! Being handmade is the icing on the cake, you’re putting time and effort and thought into it! Even if it doesn’t turn out exactly how you hoped, it’s always gonna be perfect to me.”

“Don’t start crying, nerd,” Katsuki huffed, his face flushed pink. “They’ll think I did something shitty.”

“I can’t help it! You’re just so sweet!”

Sure enough, as Izuku sniffled into his sleeve, one of the staff members dropped by with an awkward little smile plastered on her face.

“Is everything going okay, gentlemen?”

“Perfect!” Izuku assured her, smiling through his tears. “This is such a fun place for a date!”

Katsuki’s face grew even warmer, his gaze quickly ducking to his hands, regret immediately flooding through him when he laid eyes on his shitty mug again.

“I’m not great at painting,” he explained awkwardly. “We’re fine.”

“I have a few flyers here with some suggestions for different techniques you can use, would you like to take a look?”

“Uh... Sure, yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I guess it can’t hurt.”

With her smile a little more genuine this time, she retrieved a small pile of brightly coloured flyers, each with step-by-step instructions and pictures to mark the way. He nodded faintly, mumbling his thanks as he accepted, and then she was off to check on the next table, leaving Izuku to wipe his eyes on a slightly painty paper towel hastily pulled from the roll.

The instructions, he had to admit, actually had some cool ideas. Sponges would apparently give him a better texture than his streaky shit, and apparently the paper towels weren’t just for wiping their hands and brushes on?

Determination renewed, he set to work with a sponge, finally managing to get a decent, consistent coverage of his chosen red. Izuku gave him an amused look when he began cutting up paper towels, though he didn’t say a word about it, just kept chattering and smiling every time Katsuki responded, no matter how plain the conversation was. In the meantime, Katsuki began soaking his paper hearts and carefully applying them to his mug, protecting layers of his bright red before he sponged a slightly darker shade over top.

By the time he carefully removed them all with a pair of tweezers, he was actually kind of excited to see the finished product. The texture of the sponge added a nice touch to it, rather than his streaky brushwork, and with the paper removed, he was left with a pretty pattern of hearts in all sorts of nice shades.

“Wow, Kacchan!” Izuku gushed, when Katsuki proudly nudged it toward him. “Shitty artist my ass, look at you!”

“I’m so proud of you,” Katsuki smirked, leaning in to nudge their shoulders together. “Listen to that filthy mouth, I love it.”

“You had a good time, right?” Izuku asked, ignoring the teasing. “It seemed like you enjoyed it a lot, once you found your rhythm.”

“It was alright,” he admitted. “Pretty different from canvas. Or paper.”

“Yeah! It’s cool trying new things,” Izuku grinned. “Maybe we can come back again and make plates to go with them.”

“Sure,” Katsuki agreed. “As long as these ones don’t turn out shit when we get them back.”

“They could never!”

“What did you paint, anyway? Let me see.”

Izuku smiled sheepishly, nudging it toward him, and Katsuki could only stare, his jaw hanging open slightly. He didn’t know what to say, had no idea how to even express his amazement, could only stare silently and wait for his brain to come up with some sort of words.

“It’s a dragon,” Izuku explained, even though Katsuki could already see that for himself. “You always liked dragons when we were kids. And they’re cool! Like you!”

“Holy shit, Deku.”

The majority of the mug was black, but Izuku had carved through the dark coat with a tiny metal tool that still sat in front of him, a pile of shredded black paint beside it. Beneath the black laid fiery shades of red and orange all swirled and striped together, and they shone through the darkness to make the most intricate dragon Katsuki had ever seen.

A spiky tail curled around the handle, two huge wings spread wide around a scaled back, and a snarling mouth bared sharp teeth, shooting plumes of swirling fire along the curve of the mug to almost scorch its own tail. It had a fearsome stature, imposing and intimidating, yet from one clawed hand hung a tiny donkey, with an even tinier little party hat perched upon its head.

“It’s beautiful,” he said finally, despite kicking himself for the stupid choice of words. “You just... keep finding ways to surprise me, huh?”

“Surprise you?”

“With how... talented you are.”

“You think so?” Izuku asked, eyes shining. “Thank you, Kacchan! That means a lot!”

“Whatever, like you didn’t know that.”

“Things don’t always turn out like they looked in my head,” Izuku shrugged. “I’m still happy with them, for the most part! But I always expect them to be better, somehow.”

“I don’t know how they could be.”

Izuku grinned, leaning in to plant a kiss on Katsuki’s cheek, and Katsuki squirmed a little at the touch. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to all that sappy affection stuff, was pretty sure he’d never stop turning into a tomato every time it happened.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked, a hint of amusement sneaking into his tone. “Are you okay?”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Katsuki huffed, dropping his head to Izuku’s shoulder in a poor attempt to hide his face. “What the fuck, nerd.”

“I love you too,” Izuku giggled. “Thank you for today, it was the best first official date ever.”

“You don’t have to keep specifying official you know.”

“Well you’ll get mad if I say it was the best third date ever.”

“It was the first!”

“Was not.”

“You’re such a child.”

“And you love it.” Izuku grinned. “Shall we go hand these over to get finished for us?”

“Sure.”

Katsuki picked his mug up carefully, eyes still locked on the fiery dragon that would soon belong to him, a gift from the boyfriend that he didn’t deserve, but that he would hold onto with everything he had in his goddamn body.

He was going to make himself deserve it.