katsudon & izumo soba [KIDA X RORI 1X1]

[donnydobie]

✶✶midoriya izuku
As he goes through his bedtime routine of massaging his arm with lidocaine lotion and doing his PT stretches, he lets his mind wander. In the few brief visits he did go see the therapist that Mr. Aizawa recommended the war still fresh in his mind, Dr. Kon said that this was a form of meditation and routine, a little bubble of control amidst all the chaos. Izuku breathes and shifts, kneeling and then crossing his legs, facing the foot of Kacchan's bed. Kacchan's bed, holy wow!! He locks the thought away with all the other thoughts he has that he shouldn't. There's this big neon sign in his head that reads KACCHAN: PROCEED WITH CAUTION with flashing red X's, Beetlejuice-style warnings surrounding a jagged cavern in Izuku's frontal lobe. At least, that's how he has described it to Ochaco-san before. Once. While very sleep-deprived and a little tipsy. Not that Izuku needs to be under any influence to have an excuse to talk about Kacchan, if he's being honest with himself.

The smell of the lotion fills his lungs when he takes a grounding breath. The 17-year-old in his soul is flailing (and screaming and crying and begging him to write this all down in his notebook), but the 20-something he physically is doesn't have to. Objectively, the furniture in front of him is just a bed with sheets, a blanket, and a few pillows. This doesn't have to be a big deal. Even if it feels like Kacchan is offering a piece of his soul— making him dinner, letting Izuku stay longer than strictly necessary, comforting Izuku the only ways he knows how— it shouldn't be earth-shattering. They've always kind of been like this.

He changes into the shorts quickly after completing all of his stretches (along with some low-impact yoga per Mr. Aizawa's recommendation), and finds them a little more fitted than expected. Not anything bad, just...it's driving him insane that he now knows definitively that Kacchan's waist is smaller than his. The neon sign flickers invitingly behind his eyes as he blinks the thought away and tucks himself under the covers.

He makes no move to close the door.

[Kida]

⊗ BAKUGOU KATSUKI

After mindlessly scrolling through his phone for a few minutes, tempering the pink in his cheeks down to a normal level, Katsuki gets up from the couch. While he enjoyed the taste of the katsudon he made, he didn't want to fall asleep with the flavor stuck to his tongue. Quietly making his way to the bathroom, he grabs his toothbrush and is about to wet it when he realizes the spare brush he grabbed for Izuku is still on the counter, untouched. His eyes narrow with mild irritation-- Didn't he make a fuss about not having a toothbrush on-hand?-- and he pokes his head into his bedroom to find Izuku freshly crawled into his bed, making himself comfortable in his sheets. The sight makes his chest ache a bit, in a good way, and he can feel a tiny part of his heart wishing that could be the case every night. His brain quickly files that one away. Ugh.

"Hey. Don't forget to brush your teeth, nerd," he scoffs before moving back to the sink, putting toothpaste on his brush and beginning to clean his own. He shuffles to the side as he works, his eyes staring off blankly into the corner of his mirror at the reflection of the far wall. He does his best not to think about anything except his dental hygiene in the current moment. It is extremely difficult with Izuku in the same space, and there are a lot of things he wants to say now that it's just the two of them, alone, in his apartment, together, but he's too... scared? Wait. He's not scared of anything. That would be stupid. His brushing gets just a little more intense, unknowingly.

[donnydobie]

✶✶midoriya izuku
Izuku blinks. The neon sign glows brighter, makes some friends, something—the way his heart aches at the sight of Kacchan at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth makes him consider heading to an urgent care. He hates urgent care. The breath that he tried to take gets stuck in his chest. Kacchan's waist is narrower than his, and now he knows that Kacchan leans against the bathroom sink with his left hand when he brushes his teeth. He knew this before, sure, back when they were kids. It's somehow different when they're adults. Different, like how Kacchan's tank top stretches tighter around his middle. How he holds his weight when he isn't expecting a fight.

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut and takes a harsh breath, hopefully quiet enough that Kacchan doesn't hear, before he heaves himself out of the bed. The lotion helps with the ache in his dominant arm, but he still favors his left just in case, rolling forward and then up. Being in Kacchan's personal space is...Izuku feels shy in ways he hasn't since high school. His steps are soft as he carefully makes his way to the bathroom, tracking Kacchan's movements as casually as he can.

What makes matters worse, what makes this whole situation nigh unbearable, is how his brain fills in the gaps between them. How he'd fit against Kacchan's back, nosing the side of his neck and wrap his arms around his waist while making coy eye contact through the mirror. Kacchan would bristle and complain, flushing down to his neck, but wouldn't make any move to push Izuku off. They'd banter and it would be effortless. Easy.

Izuku swallows against the want threatening to split his chest open.

"You'd think I'd remember to brush my teeth after—" He interrupts himself with an awkward laugh as he enters the bathroom, crossing his arms and shrugging. He doesn't have to look in the mirror to see his apologetic smile. "After making such a fuss before. Sorry, Kacchan."

He looks around the counter for the extra toothbrush, and pauses when he finds it. It's green. Lots of things are green, he reasons with himself as he reaches for it. It doesn't have to mean anything. Kacchan probably gets his toothbrushes in bulk, so he can't exactly pick the colors. It doesn't mean anything. It's just a toothbrush.

Izuku picks it up with his left hand and moves to Kacchan's left side—his good eye, his mind supplies—before fretting over the toothpaste. Just suck it up, goodness gracious. You're a grown man! This shouldn't be this difficult. You brush your teeth everyday.

But Kacchan... Izuku looks at him through the corner of his eye as he wets his brush and starts brushing his teeth. Is he as nervous as I am?

[Kida]

⊗ BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Crimson eyes follow Izuku through the mirror as he enters the bathroom, a grunt through the brushing his only response to the apology. He takes a step back to give him space as he moves to his left side, blinking once before staring off at the reflection of the far wall again as he finishes brushing. Despite the mint flavor of the toothpaste flooding his senses, he can still smell the lotion that Izuku uses on his arm, the strong medicinal scent bringing back memories of the hospital post-war. A slight shiver of discomfort moves through his body and he steps towards the sink to spit out the foaming toothpaste and give a quick rinse to his face. He casts a soft sidelong glance at Izuku before moving to his hand towels next to the bedroom door, drying his face and subconsciously walking back into his bedroom. He takes a few steps towards his bed before he freezes in place, the sight of the rumpled sheets reminding him that he's letting Izuku borrow the bed for the night. Another glance at the kitten, still sleeping soundly in the nest box he made for her. Good.

[donnydobie]

✶✶midoriya izuku
Izuku loves when Kacchan looks at him. It makes his skin warm up, like standing in the sun and warming yourself up on a chilly day. He’d never say it out loud—not while sober, at least—but the thing he’s missed most after graduating is being around Kacchan so much.

He wets his toothbrush. He tries not to stare at Kacchan’s back in the mirror, all defined muscle and scar tissue. This, tonight, this has been the longest they’ve been alone in the same room since the hospital. Izuku feels insane for it. He narrows his vision to the toothbrush—the green toothbrush—and struggles to get toothpaste on it. Squeezing it like normal isn’t working with how stiff his arm is, so he opts for laying it down on the counter and using the heel of his hand. It doesn’t have to mean anything, he wrestles with himself. A lot of things are green. The bristles are rough against his teeth. When was the last time he brushed them? He brushes harder, angry at everything and nothing. They’re just teeth. Who cares?

Izuku wonders if Kacchan feels the pull. Maybe it’s the Blackwhip embers, maybe it’s Izuku clinging onto a reality that no longer exists—but he needs to know if it’s real. That’s what the rushed brushing is for, he reasons. He can stare at Kacchan through mirrors, screens, whatever he’d like. It doesn’t make his life any less real, doesn’t make the pull any less intense. Sometimes, when he’s lonely and in a self-flagellating mood, he replays the memory of Kacchan’s dead body and imagines rushing over to kiss him instead. Holding his head in gentle hands while Tomura rages on, Blackwhip holding him off long enough for Izuku to finally confess. It’s all he can do when the beer doesn’t mask the tang of blood in his mouth.

Izuku finishes brushing his teeth and splashes his face with water, not getting a single drop outside the sink. There’s a second where he stares at the water draining, waiting for something to jump out at him.

It doesn’t happen. He turns to meet Kacchan in his room.

He rounds him, standing on the side with his good eye. “She’s so cute when she isn’t trying to eat your fingers. Reminds me of someone I know.”

[Kida]

⊗ BAKUGOU KATSUKI

A strange guilt gnaws at the edges of Katsuki's mind -- he sees the struggle with the toothpaste and wants so badly to step in and help, even just a little. But at the same time, he feels the need to hold himself back. He doesn't want to unintentionally make Izuku feel weak... Past insults bubble up in his memory and the guilt worsens. It's been years, why now? No amount of apologies could change how things went, but he wishes they could. A feeling in his chest wants things to be so, so different--

Izuku's voice jolts him from his mental pacing and he lets go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He internally blames the surprise on his hearing aids and how everything sounds clearer when he actually bothers to wear them. The corner of his lips curls into a very slight smile as he chuckles softly at the remark.

"Yeah. I'll have to have her checked in the morning," he mutters, bringing his phone up to check the time before pocketing it again. Somewhere between 10 and 11pm. Thankfully there's no work in the morning to worry about. There's a moment of hesitation where he stares down the king-sized bed, far too big for just one person, and imagines getting to hold Izuku to sleep every night, whispering apologies hundreds of times more, among other things. He feels his ears grow warm and his tongue clicks audibly as he scratches the back of his neck, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands and make his current state more obvious.

"Sleep well, nerd," he mutters, taking a couple steps back to start heading back into the living room. He turns and pauses at the doorway, red eyes casting a sidelong glance at Izuku as he asks, "you want the door closed?"

[donnydobie]

✶✶midoriya izuku
“Open,” Izuku knows he says it too quickly, too rushed, but the door needs to be open. That’s the one thing he never has to worry about at his apartment: feeling the walls close in on him, the claustrophobia of not being able to exist a room immediately. His apartment is essentially one big room. Kacchan’s is spacious, perfectly reflecting his pro-hero status and how much he’s done with his life. It’s well-earned. “Um. Leave the door open, please.”

He wants to say something about needing an exit, probably unconsciously mumbles it under his breath, but he doesn’t want Kacchan to waste any more energy on him. Izuku has to be up in a few hours to make it to his morning class, anyways. Not that yuuai has any shortage on instructors now that they’ve mostly recovered from the War. He has a duty to his community, to his students. It doesn’t matter how tired he is.

Back to Kacchan standing in the doorway, because holy wow. His tank top had ridden up the slightest bit on his right side, a sliver of unblemished skin peeking out above the low waistband of his sweatpants, which are low-waisted from time and use. Izuku feels his chest tighten. There has to be a world—a parallel universe, another timeline, something—where they live together. Izuku can’t accept any other reality. He can imagine it so clearly: two mugs on the kitchen counter with matching coasters, color-coded towels in the bathroom, leftovers in the fridge with passive aggressive love-notes taped on the lids. Izuku tears his eyes away from Kacchan’s hip, blinking a few times and crossing his arms.

That isn’t this reality. This is the timeline where Izuku loses his quirks and fails his mission, and Kacchan becomes a pro-hero without him. The sooner that Izuku accepts where he is, the sooner he can learn to let go and appreciate what he has. What he wouldn’t give to be able to let go of how simply he loves Kacchan. Unconditionally, devoted. God, does it ever hurt.

“For the kitten. I don’t want to restrict her and make her scared.” Izuku presses his tongue between the gap of his canine and lower teeth. He prays that Kacchan doesn’t call him out on the lie. Well, it isn’t technically a lie, but it definitely isn’t the whole truth.

Izuku’s eyes catalogue Kacchan’s form in the doorway again. His back profile is so beautiful. Izuku remembers drawing it over and over during his first and second year, before they changed seats.