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It was almost 1h30 in the morning when they left the nearby hospital. 2 AM when they finally got to their hotel room.
Izuku insisted he didn't need Katsuki's help, that he felt fine, but the obvious limp and wince every few steps said otherwise; Katsuki forced Izuku to drape an arm over his shoulder so he didn't need to put his weight over the right hip.
Izuku leaned heavily against the wall, while Katsuki shoved their room's card on the door's automatic lock. With a click, the room was open.
“I can take the couch, if you want…” Izuku muttered softly, head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes closed. He looked pale and sick, even worse with the white lights coming from the fluorescent lamps of the hallway, illuminating his tired features - if the matted hair and huge eye bags under his eyes were any tell. Katsuki tsked and pulled his arm over the shoulder once more, forcing Izuku to follow him inside.
“Shut the fuck up. The bed is big enough for us.”
“But Kacchan gets grumpy after a mission…”
“ Kacchan wasn't impaled by a fucking iron bar during a fight today, like somebody else .”
Izuku smiled tiredly, eyes still closed, as Katsuki dropped the bag of meds on the floor and helped him clumsily reach their room's tiny adjacent bathroom. Trusting Katsuki with his life, no matter the situation.
“Can't wait for our agency to be big enough so I can give you a whole room to yourself, Kacchan.”
Katsuki didn't answer. He could snap something petty and hurt, like “what, want to get rid of me already?” , but that was Izuku trying to deal with the guilt of going down during the fight and leaving Katsuki alone on the battlefield. He was trying to please Katsuki, as much as possible, to make him feel comfortable, to let him rest after all the stress of the day.
But Katsuki didn't want any of that. Not that day. Katsuki wanted Izuku close.
He helped Izuku get off his civvies, then gently led him to the shower. It was the cheapest room of the hotel, so no bathtub, but Katsuki had an inkling Izuku just wanted to wash off the hospital smell and go the fuck to sleep. He could relate.
“Want my help with somethin’?”
“It's fine, Kacchan. I can handle it from here. Thank you, really.”
His voice was so soft, so full of fondness and gratitude, it made Katsuki's heart squeeze painfully inside his ribcage. He left Izuku to his devices and only then, with the bathroom door closed behind him and the shower's noise muffling his own sounds, Katsuki allowed himself to cry.
He almost lost Izuku that day. While Katsuki dealt with the villain, Izuku noticed a family trying to leave an upturned car on the side road, and immediately turned to help (not before warning Katsuki, of course). Problem was, his suit got damaged during the battle, so the sensors that mimicked Danger Sense couldn’t pick up on the iron bar flying towards the hero, and Katsuki wasn't fast enough to stop it.
He was sure Izuku's scream of agony would color his nightmares for fucking months .
The gods were kind enough to avoid a fatal blow, at least; Izuku managed to survive with a motherfucking pole stuck on the right side of his torso for a few minutes until Katsuki managed to neutralize the asshole that almost killed his partner and wait for the rescue to arrive. But still, Izuku passed out due to the pain at some point, and Katsuki, holding him in his arms so he wouldn’t jostle his injury any more than he already had, felt like his entire world was turning into sand in his lap, leaking through his fingers as he desperately tried not to freak out.
“He’s still breathing, he’s still breathing, his heart is still beating, just hold the fuck on…”, he’d repeat, like a mantra, until the rescue helicopter cast a huge shadow over him.
Now Izuku was safe, just behind the bathroom’s door, and although Katsuki still felt a spike of anxiety for not having him in his sights, the light hum of his partner’s voice was enough for him to know he was there, safe, warm, close to him. Alive.
Katsuki managed to pull himself together before Izuku finished washing up. With a soft call, he asked Katsuki for help putting his pajamas on, and then, when he was sure Izuku was properly settled on their only bed, it was the blond’s turn to shower and get rid of the hospital miasma draped all over him. And maybe let out a few more tears.
When he finally got back to their bedroom, Izuku was still awake, idly checking his phone, his body slightly angled to his left. A doctor with a fairly powerful healing quirk worked at the hospital they were sent in, and could fix Izuku’s injury with a swipe of their fingers - that’s why Izuku got discharged so quickly - but he would still feel a lot of pain for a few days, and couldn’t get back to work for at least two weeks. Izuku would need to be on antibiotics during that whole period, just to cover any possible infections.
“Did ya take your meds yet?”
“They make me sleepy.”
“It’s time to sleep, idiot.”
“I was waiting for you.”
His voice was small and hesitant, and made Katsuki’s heart throb. He opted for grabbing his partner’s pills from the bag on the floor and pushed onto his scarred hands, paired with a water bottle from the tiny fridge.
“Thanks, Kacchan.” With a wince, Izuku sat up and accepted the offer, gulping down his meds in one go and downing them with long gulps of water. Katsuki sat down on his side of the bed, plugged his phone on the charger, then laid down under the covers, facing Izuku.
Slowly, very slowly, he laid back down, also facing Katsuki.
(it didn’t go unnoticed, how he chose the side of the bed specifically so he could lay on his side, to look back at Katsuki in the middle of the night.)
“Hi.” His lips quirked in a tiny, tired smile, eyelids immediately fluttering with exhaustion. His brows furrowed slightly - maybe he noticed Katsuki’s red rimmed eyes, even in the dark. Izuku was good like that.
Katsuki didn’t answer. Not right away. He took his time observing Izuku - the slope of his button nose; the brown freckles scattered around his face, arms and hands, constantly interrupted by an impressive collection of faded scars; the green eyes struggling to stay open so they could stare back at his red ones; the curly hair fanning his face, fairly darker due to the slight dampness of the shower.
Memorizing. Just in case.
“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was a gentle murmur, as if he didn’t want to disturb the peace of that moment - as if he knew what the weight of Katsuki’s silence meant, but also wanted to get him out of that spiral of despair.
After a few extra heartbeats, Katsuki hesitantly opened his mouth.
“Come over here.” His voice was slow, nothing more than a whisper, either.
Izuku’s eyes widened slightly.
“What…?” It was expected, his confusion. Izuku and Katsuki had been inseparable for a few years, already, best friends in every sense of the world - the type to not even feel awkward about sharing a hotel room with a single bed to save expenses of their brand new agency, the type to not bat an eye when one needed help undressing when the injuries pos-battle were too much - but their relationship wasn’t as intimate as it looked, not really. They didn’t hug very often, nor shared touches. And Katsuki wasn’t really fond of people touching him, most of the time. An occasional hair ruffling; a slap on one’s shoulder; a quick, manly hug after a particularly gruesome fight, those were frequent. But there was always a barrier, boundaries that prevented them from really expressing what they felt for each other.
His request was out of the norm, really.
But that entire day was a test, and Katsuki had failed.
“I almost lost you, today.” He said, softly, and if his voice cracked, no one but Izuku and the night would ever know. “Just come over here, please.”
It was probably the “please” that put Izuku on the move. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he pleaded for something. But there he was, in the middle of the night, begging Izuku to let him hold him, because Katsuki had to feel his warm, living body against his, at least for the night. They could pretend to be nothing but good friends to each other in the morning. That night, Izuku was his everything, and he had almost lost it all.
He fit against him like a puzzle piece, head right below his chin, arms around his middle, breath lightly fanning on his collarbone. Katsuki pulled him into a hug, careful not to jostle him too much, and squeezed, until he felt Izuku practically melt against him. A mouth pressed lightly on his pulse point, making Katsuki’s breath hitch slightly, but none of them pulled away, and it was perfect. He was warm, so warm, and he was breathing, and his heart pounded against his chest, and his arms were thick and strong and made to hold Katsuki close. Katsuki breathed against his hair, feeling the scent of the hotel’s cheap shampoo and something uniquely Izuku, and he could swear a part of his broken heart suddenly mended at that moment.
Izuku was alive, and safe, and in his arms, and hugging him back, and Katsuki was at peace.
“Sorry.” He felt the light vibration of Izuku’s voice against his skin, and sighed. Katsuki never thought an entire soul could feel as content as his felt. “For scaring you.”
“S’was my fault. Wasn’t fast enough.”
“It wasn’t. I should’ve been more aware.”
“Danger Sense was broken.”
“Can’t rely on a sensor all the time.”
“You should be able to rely on me, at least.”
“I do.”
“You almost died.”
“Kacchan.” Izuku leaned away a little and released his hold on Katsuki, so he could gently, so gently, hold the blond’s face in his big hands. “I”m here. You managed to take the villain down and call for rescue in time. I’m alive, thanks to you. I don’t regret relying on you for a second , you hear me?”
Katsuki huffed, eyes filling with tears, and closed his eyes, trying to stave them off. He raised his hands to hold Izuku’s against his cheeks, and felt the other man’s forehead lean against his. They were so close, way closer than usual, and Katsuki didn’t want it any other way.
They stood in silence for a long while, just listening to each other’s soft breathing, basking in the other’s presence. All the adrenaline of the day was finally leaving Katsuki for good: the exhaustion took hold of him, making him slip in and out of consciousness. at some point, Izuku had let go of his face to hug him again, and Katsuki sleepily circled his own arms around his stocky frame.
He was alive.
He was safe.
He was in his arms.
And Katsuki loved him.
Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was real, but the soft kiss on his cheek made him smile, either way, his mind enough at peace to let him fully fall asleep in Izuku’s arms.
“I love you too, Kacchan.”