Work Text:
one: bento boxes
Midoriya Izuku likes to think he’s a very patient professor. No, really—his class is full of a bunch of little shits, but he adores them all the same. But becoming a teacher at UA has given him infinite amounts of respect for Aizawa, because he knows that their class was just as distracted as the one he’s been blessed with for the past three years. Like now—
“So from here, you can either simplify the equation or—”
“Uh, sensei?”
“Yes, Michizou?” He turns and is met with twenty students barely holding in their snickers. Oh great, what are they up to now?
“Why is Dynamight outside the window?”
Izuku blinks and turns to the window. And sure enough, standing on the windowsill, Katsuki smirks at him with a bento box in his hand. “Ah, that’s a great question, Michizou! Let me go see what he’s here for.”
Not that Katsuki hasn’t done this before, but he’s usually more… discreet about it. Short drop-ins when the kids are at lunch, a greeting in the teacher’s lounge, a quick farewell kiss before classes start. But never has he done whatever the hell this is.
Izuku slides the window open, and before he can even greet the man, Katsuki swings in with a grunt, dragging Izuku’s hand behind him.
“Deku, you dumbass, you forgot your lunch again,” he grumbles, pushing the wrapped lunch box into his hands. The floral print flashes up at him.
“Ah, Kacchan, you don’t have to make me lunch, seriously!” Izuku flounders, but he accepts the offering anyway. He sort of has to, or else Katsuki will flip his shit. “I can just eat at home…”
The class immediately erupts in chatter, jumping to question both men about their relationship.
“Dynamight, you make lunch for Midoriya-sensei?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were this close with Pro Hero Dynamight?!”
“Did you just call Dynamight ‘Kacchan?’”
“Do you guys live together?”
“Alright, gremlins, shut up!” Katsuki barks once Izuku has situated the box in his backpack. The students quickly snap their mouths shut, but continue to vibrate in excitement. “You shouldn’t annoy your teacher with questions, and you sure as hell shouldn’t annoy me with them.”
Izuku pokes him in the cheek, turning a disappointed stare at him when that catches his attention. “Don’t call my students gremlins. That’s rude!”
“Just calling it as it is, nerd. Your fault for raising them to be like this.”
“I- I didn’t raise them!?”
Katsuki grabs the finger on his cheek with a roll of his eyes. “You love them like they’re your own damn kids, so you may as well have.”
“Kacchan—” he splutters, turning to make sure his students didn’t hear that comment. They definitely did, if the giggling from the girls means anything. “You can’t just say that, they’ll think I’m weird!” he hisses.
“‘Cause you are weird,” Katsuki smirks back. “You better finish your damn food this time, I’m sick and tired of seeing you bring home leftovers!”
“I’ll try my best, but no promises.”
Thankfully, that only earns him a huff. Then Katsuki turns back towards the window. “I gotta get back on patrol before someone notices, see ya at home.”
With a brush of his lips against the hand he’s still holding, Katsuki leaps onto the window and jumps out. Several students rush over to catch a glimpse of the hero propelling himself onto the roof before taking off in the opposite direction.
The others are too busy snickering at Izuku, who’s trapped staring blankly at his kissed hand. He tries to process what just happened and to figure out why someone as reserved about their relationship as Katsuki would pull such a stunt, but he’s brought out of his musings by the clearing of a throat.
“Midoriya, I heard a commotion,” Aizawa sighs out from the doorway. “Did something happen?”
“Ah, it’s nothing to worry about!” Izuku replies, hands waving dismissively. “Ka- Dynamight just dropped by for a bit.”
Tired, black eyes scrutinize him for a moment, before Aizawa lets out another bone-deep sigh. “Of course he did. Alright, have fun with the gremlins.”
“They’re not—”
But he’s already gone, indeed leaving Izuku to deal with twenty hyperenergetic gremlins.
two: training with dynamight!
The next time Katsuki crashes his lesson isn’t during a lesson at all. They’re training in Gym Gamma, working on hand-to-hand combat before the next physical exam, when an abrupt explosion alerts Izuku to an intruder at the entrance.
He turns, hand drifting to the stun gun in his pocket, but the immediate yelling that follows the explosion relaxes him. Ah, it’s just Katsuki.
Just Katsuki, who tramps over to Izuku and ignores the rest of the students pausing their matches. “Izuku!”
“Um,” Izuku stares blankly at the man, who is dressed in his usual hero attire. “Why are you here? And how did you even know we were here?”
Katsuki waves him off. “Toshinori told me. Said I can help with your kids’ training or some shit like that.”
“What? Why? I thought you had patrol today?”
“Holy shit, you ask too many questions. You want my help or not?” He reaches over to flick Izuku’s ear, who leans away with narrowed eyes.
“I mean, since you’re offering so kindly…”
“Hah?! Who said anything about being kind?” By the next second, he’s turning to head back to the entrance in mock contempt.
“Alright, wait!” Izuku reaches to grab him by the bicep, fingers digging into armor. “Please help my poor, incompetent self, ‘O Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!”
Katsuki twists his head to smirk triumphantly at him. Izuku just scoffs with a slight smile, already used to his antics.
“Guess I’ll stay, if you need my saving so badly,” he says, ruffling Izuku’s hair.
The rest of the class promptly cheers at that, excited to have a pro hero watch them fight. But Katsuki isn’t there to just watch and critique, oh no, he walks directly up to a pair and tells one of them to back off. And then he yells at the other to get into position, dropping into his own combat stance. To the student’s credit, they don’t even hesitate before obeying with a determined smile.
Izuku watches, fascinated, as Katsuki dodges every single one of their jabs, throwing mocking insults at the kid all the while. The student—one of the class’s more experienced physical combatants—grows more and more frustrated, their attacks becoming sloppy until Katsuki finally reaches out and flips them over effortlessly, pinning them to the ground.
“Can’t let your emotions get ahead of you, kid,” he hears Katsuki say as he helps them up. “Villains will latch onto that kinda weakness.”
They nod aggressively at the piece of advice, before jogging off to meet with their previous partner. And Katsuki continues sparring with each student, offering solicited comments about their technique or style, until the sun is high up in the sky, filtering through the tall windows of the gym.
By the time he makes it to the last student, who doesn’t even try before going down with a yelp, Izuku has a hoard of students sprawled on the floor around him. Which he understands—after all, he has a lot of experience training with Katsuki—so he knows that the exhaustion and sore muscles must be seeping the energy out of their bones.
“Okay, you little punks, you’re all shit,” Katsuki announces with a clap of his hands once they’re all seated in front of him. “Deku was way better than you when he was only a first-year, so you have no excuse to be leagues behind him.”
And Izuku knows he’s only saying that to bring their egos down a peg, but still— “Alright, don’t listen to Kacchan! You’ve all been steadily improving this past year and I’m still proud, even if—”
Katsuki cuts him off with a cackle. “Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. I gave you each personalized ways to improve, so don’t even think you deserve Izuku’s pride until you master your fighting styles.”
His students, the traitors, seem to side with Katsuki, all nodding enthusiastically and eating up every word that leaves his mouth. Izuku sighs defeatedly. Leave it to Katsuki to motivate them by basically calling them trash. It certainly worked when they were younger, too, he supposes.
“And you, Deku,” Katsuki calls, “Stop praising them for everything! How’re they gonna become pros if you keep coddling ‘em?!”
“I’m not—”
“Hey, blue ponytail, does he coddle your class?”
The girl, Keiko, considers this for a second before humming affirmatively. “He can be a little… compliment-happy, when it comes to our progress…”
These little traitors!
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ya hear that, Deku? You’re still too fucking nice! Keep pulling that shit and you’re gonna end up having to save the world again.” Katsuki walks over and props his hands on his hips with an unimpressed stare.
Izuku huffs. “Yeah, like I could possibly save the world with the way I am now.”
“Oi!” His eyes are redirected up when Katsuki grabs his cheeks and forces their gazes to meet. “I know you could make the world end if you wanted to.” Then, in a lowered voice, “With or without a quirk, your nerd brain is too big for this world.”
Already used to this pep talk, Izuku just smiles at the man, feeling his cheeks squish against warm palms. “If you say so, Kacchan.”
Katsuki divulges his own smug grin and leans in as if to kiss him.
The flash of a camera jolts them away from each other.
“Aw, they pulled away! Hana, you dumbass, why’d you have the flash on?!”
“I didn’t know! Whatever, they’re close enough in this picture.”
Izuku’s cheeks flame, expecting Katsuki to explode from his student’s antics, but he doesn’t. He just… turns to face them with the same self-satisfied smile. Oh wait, it’s turned more murderous now. Izuku should probably be worried for his kids. “You little shits…” Katsuki begins stalking towards Hana, hand reaching for her phone.
“Kacchan!” Izuku cries, grabbing his arm again and running fingers down to his hands in an attempt to diffuse the anger. “It’s fine, they’re just being teenagers. We were equally as obnoxious about Aizawa and Hizashi, remember?”
“No, we weren’t! Dunce Face and Raccoon Eyes were. Now, lemme at ‘em!” Katsuki tries pulling his hand away from their intertwined fingers, but Izuku resolutely holds on.
“I’m not letting you attack my students, what the heck?!”
“Don’t tell me what to do—”
“I’ll, uh,” Izuku’s mind races to think of a compromise, “I’ll take down the creepy All Might posters from our room if you leave them alone!”
Katsuki promptly halts, then leans into Izuku’s side in satisfaction. “Fuck yeah, they’ve been staring at us for years.”
Izuku rolls his eyes fondly, patting spiky hair. And though his class continues teasing them for the next few minutes that they stay pressed against each other, neither of them care enough to move.
three: notes on coffee pots
There’s a snicker behind Izuku. “Sensei?”
The tone of voice is already enough to tip him off by now, so he doesn’t bother turning around as he asks, “What is it?”
“Your ‘Kacchan’ is here again.”
Izuku sets down the pen and twists his head to the door. Katsuki, clad in his pajamas, is leaning against the doorway. It’s a rare sight to see the man in public without a proper outfit, so Izuku rushes over despite his confusion.
“What are you doing here, Kacchan?” He inspects the man for injuries, but he seems fine, if not a little sleepy.
“Nothing, just… I didn’t see you before you left this morning. Thought something happened,” Katsuki mumbles, eyes casted to the side.
Izuku positively melts at the admission, imagining a grumpy Katsuki patting the bed only to find it cold. It’s not often that Izuku wakes up before him, after all. Although he swears he left a note on the extra pot of coffee he made for Katsuki…
“I’m fine,” he reassures the prickly man. “I just came early today to get a headstart on lesson planning, is all. You don’t have to worry—”
“Who said I was worrying?”
Izuku chuckles. “Alright, you don’t have to come save me from the big, bad claws of capitalist society. I’ll let you know before I leave next time, yeah?”
Katsuki levels him with a searching look, before relaxing and slumping against Izuku’s chest. “You fucking better.”
He can just feel the class watching like hawks from behind them, but he wraps his arms around Katsuki nonetheless. The other looks up with a bleary blink, then presses a light kiss against his lips before Izuku can react. Just a chaste peck, but it makes Izuku sigh happily all the same.
Once upon a time, he would have never imagined sharing a life with the man in his arms. But now, spending the rest of their lives together seems like a no-brainer. An inevitability.
“Okay, Kacchan, I really have to get started on my lecture now,” Izuku whispers, gently pulling away. “I’ll see you tonight?”
And Katsuki, looking sated, just nods once. “Bye, nerd. I’m gonna make katsudon today.”
He closes the door, smiling sheepishly at his cooing students.
four: dynamight's signature fuses
Izuku doesn’t know why he agreed to swap classes for a day. Class 3-B is ten times more obnoxious than his own class, with two students in particular going at each other’s throats half the time. They refused to stop arguing in the middle of his lecture, which created quite the disturbance. The rest of the class seemed used to it, though, boredly tuning back into what Izuku was trying to say even when their bickering overshadowed his voice.
To be honest, it kind of reminds him of his relationship with Katsuki in the early days, so he tries to let them off easy with a warning.
“For the last time, Osamu, please stop provoking your classmate—”
“—Yeah, you dipshit, you got no manners or something?”
Izuku jumps at the sound of Katsuki’s voice from the doorway. The student in question also turns in confusion, before settling on the hero’s annoyed expression with a smirk. “Oh, it’s Pro Hero Dynamight! Hey, Chuuya, aren’t you his biggest f—”
“Shut the fuck up—”
Katsuki releases a small, crackling explosion, and both students finally quiet down. “Jesus, you idiots remind me of me when I was younger— Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t a damn compliment!”
Izuku laughs under his breath. “They don’t know the first thing about you as a teen.”
“Hey, the fuck’d you say about me, nerd?” Katsuki stomps over, his boots thumping with each step. “Anyway, help me with my hair. They fell out in a fight earlier.”
Two white ribbons ending with miniature explosions are thrust into his hand, and then Katsuki turns to show his undone mullet, messy and sticking every which way. Izuku hears muttering from the class, similar to his own students when Katsuki started making these surprise visits.
“You really can’t do it yourself?”
“Trust me, Izuku, I tried. They wouldn’t stay!” If he were to turn around right now, Izuku would definitely be met with a pout.
Stifling a laugh, he gently runs his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, splitting it down the middle as best as he can. He takes a ribbon and begins wrapping it around one of the strands, making sure his hair stays tightly covered by the white cloth. At the end, he tucks the explosion end through the ribbon and smooths it out so they look like Dynamight’s signature fuses, then repeats the process with the other strand.
Doing Katsuki’s hair has been a mundane part of their mornings for years, a calming start to every day that the hero has morning patrols. Izuku hopes it stays that way for a long time. He hopes, irrationally, that Katsuki will never learn how to wrap his hair himself.
“Okay, all done!” he takes Katsuki by the head and inspects his work with a satisfied nod. “Is that all you needed?”
The man grunts, then plants a soft kiss on Izuku’s cheek. “Bye, I love you.”
He grins brightly at Katsuki’s retreating back. “I love you, too!”
five: answer ochako's messages PLEASE
“Oi, Deku!”
Izuku groans. It hasn’t even been two days since Katsuki last crashed his class.
He just steps into the classroom, exhausted from his (mentally draining) meeting with Nedzu and relieved to not have any more lectures for the day—his students only have hero training left on the schedule, which would be led by Toshinori this time.
“Hey, Kacchan, how long have you been here for?” he greets. The rest of the class is sitting dutifully at their desks, ready to head over to their post-lunch training. The only thing out of place is that instead of Izuku at the podium, there is one angry Dynamight.
“Long enough for these little shitheads to start badgering me about irrelevant shit,” Katsuki growls, whipping his head towards the kids with a glare. Only a few of them look effectively chastised. “And where the fuck were you?”
“I had a lunch meeting with Nezu.”
There’s a pause as Katsuki processes this, then accepts the answer with a sympathetic nod. Izuku has complained about their meetings enough for him to know exactly what emotions lie beneath that sentence.
“So… are you just going to stay here?”
Katsuki blinks. And then he grimaces as if he forgot the entire reason he came. “Round Cheeks wanted me to check on you ‘cause you weren’t answering her messages about Toga’s birthday.”
Oh. Izuku checks his phone, and there are indeed several messages from Ochako, begging him to choose a cake flavor out of the multiple she sent. The last few messages consist of keyboard smashes as she apparently grows more and more desperate for a reply.
For the past eight years, the class has made it a tradition to celebrate Toga Himiko’s birthday as an acknowledgement of the life she could’ve lived. Led by Ochako—who still won’t admit to Izuku that she had feelings for Himiko—Izuku helps plan out the entire party, from the balloons to the (admittedly morbid) ritual of pricking their fingers for a drop of blood. He doesn’t know how his best friend managed to convince their entire class to do all of that for someone they never got to know beyond their villain persona, but he respects her diligence regardless.
“Ah, I’m sorry she made you drop by, I’ll reply to her now!” Izuku says, looking up after reading through the string of notifications. Katsuki is staring at him strangely, as if seeing him for the first time. “What?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles. “You look good in that suit.”
Izuku blinks owlishly at the man, who is now marching towards the door—and Izuku—at an alarming pace. “You saw me this morning though?”
“Yeah, and?” Katsuki reaches for his shoulder, dragging him outside the classroom and sliding the door shut behind them. “Can’t a man appreciate his partner’s loveliness in his work suit?”
With a deep flush working its way up his cheeks, Izuku covers his face with a whine. “Kacchan, if you’re just going to embarrass me, can’t you at least wait until we’re in private?!”
“Absolutely the fuck not. If I think you’re pretty as hell, I’mma tell you that you’re pretty as hell. I don’t give a fuck where we are.”
Izuku yelps when a finger lifts his chin and he meets red ruby eyes, adorned with the eyeliner that he’s come to know as God’s gift to the universe. Without tearing his gaze away, Katsuki runs his thumbs over the freckles that have darkened considerably in the summer sun.
He tries to lean forward to kiss his partner, but the moment their lips meet his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket. Izuku ends up biting Katsuki, who shouts in offense and leans back with a glare.
“IT IS OKAY NOW. WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE! TO TELL YOU TO PICK UP THIS CALL!” The phone continues to ring loudly in Izuku’s pocket.
He takes it out and is met with an amusing close-up of Ochako’s face from the first time they went drinking. With a sigh, he swipes to answer the call while peeking through the door to make sure his class hasn’t killed each other. They haven’t—though a few girls are lined up right behind the door and look up expectantly at him, the little eavesdroppers.
“Hi, Ochako, I’m sorry I didn’t get your messages until right now—”
“Didn’t I literally send Bakugo to tell you to check?!”
Izuku winces, looking over at the brooding man. “Yeah, um, we got a little side-tracked before I could respond…”
An annoyed groan rings through the speaker. His students are holding in their snickers. “Of course you did, Izu. Whatever, I forgive you, did you at least look at the cakes?”
“Yeah! I really liked the one with the mangoes—it kind of reminds me of her eyes, y’know?”
Ochako gasps. “Oh, you’re a genius, I knew I made a good decision befriending you first at UA!”
“Are you saying I’m only good for reinforcing your sad, lesbian pining?” Izuku snarks back, laughing when Ochako immediately splutters. “I’m kidding, ‘Chako, but I’m looking forward to the party this year. She would be turning 25, right?”
There’s a pause as Ochako mulls over that fact. “Yeah. She’s old as hell.”
“That’s like, a year older than us, honey.”
“Shush, you! Now go back to making out with your boyfie or whatever you guys were doing—sorry, I mean husband.”
He quickly lowers the speaker volume as the sound leaks into the air, consequently throwing his class into a jumbled mess of squeals. Turning away from the chaos, he hisses, “Ochako!”
“What? I’m sure they already knew,” she snickers impishly.
“Alright, time’s up, it’s my turn to talk to the nerd!” Katsuki shouts, plucking the phone from Izuku’s grip. “Talk to you never, Round Face.”
Before she can protest, he hangs up. “Kacchan…”
“Go back to wrestling with your kids or whatever you were gonna do before I disrupted.” He makes a gesture of shooing Izuku away. “You’re probably, like, ten minutes behind schedule now.”
Izuku checks his watch, and realizes with no small amount of horror that they are, in fact, very late to training. Oh, Toshinori is going to grill him!
“Shit!” he whips around with an annoyed side-eye when Katsuki snorts. “Okay, I’m going so you better be leaving too. You’ve already slacked enough on your own hero work today, stupid!”
“Worth it,” Katsuki sings as he ambles down the hall, throwing a wave behind his shoulder.
plus one: just a civilian now
On the walk home one day, Izuku gets a brilliant idea. Katsuki is still out on patrol, with Fridays being the most busy day for heroes, and luckily for him, Izuku knows the exact path the man takes on patrol.
Filled with the excitement of watching Katsuki work in his natural element, Izuku jogs through the streets, mentally running through the map of his usual route in the hopes of running into the hero. And sure enough, by one of the coffee shops that they like to frequent, Katsuki is marching along the sidewalk.
Izuku fast-walks as silently as he can, lifting his hands with the intention of scaring the man from behind. “AHH, KAC—”
But before he can settle his palms on Katsuki’s shoulders, another arm wraps around his neck and pulls. Izuku scrambles to rip it off, but the moment his fingers meet the cool steel of a knife, he freezes in his tracks.
Katsuki turns at the noise. His eyes widen in insurmountable shock, presumably at the sight of Izuku trapped under some criminal’s weapon, and within the next second his hands are lifting to attack the assailant.
“Wait!” the man shouts before an explosion can be set off. “Don’t move, or I’ll slit his throat.”
And Izuku can only watch as Katsuki freezes, eyes quickly darting around to calculate his next move. He’s led away by the man, who drags them into the coffee shop without moving away from Izuku.
“Ka—”
“Don’t say a word,” a voice whispers quietly in his ear. “Hey, you at the counter, give me all the cash in the register or I’ll kill this man!”
Izuku tries to shake his head at the petrified worker, to tell her not to do it, but she isn’t looking at him. Instead, her eyes are glued to someone next to her, whispering vehemently at her coworker to hide. And then, with a neutral expression too stiff to be anything but forced, she levels them with a stare and opens the register slowly. As if to stall time. Izuku raises his hands as subtly as possible with the goal of ripping the knife away.
The criminal growls in frustration. “Hurry the fuck up—”
And then an explosion knocks him over, the knife nicking Izuku’s skin as the hand holding it follows his falling body. He only catches a flash of orange as Katsuki downright tackles him to the ground. In the passing of a second, the smoke from the explosion clears and Katsuki has him face down on the floor.
“YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!” he screams at the man, keeping both his arms behind his back as he’s held down by the hero’s knee. “If you lay one more fucking finger on the nerd, I will send your ass so far up the stratosphere that you suffocate and suffer the slowest, most painful death known to the damn human race. Do you fucking hear me?!”
“Wait—”
“I said. DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?”
By now, Katsuki’s sidekicks have begun trickling in and trying to wrestle him off the robber. One of them contacts the police, but the other gets a light whack in the face for getting too close to them. Izuku winces, then uncertainly makes his way over to Katsuki.
“Uh, Kacchan, maybe you should let your sidekicks take him away?”
His eyes twitch at the sound of Izuku’s voice, heavy breathing slowing a beat as he catches his breath. Which is strange, because taking down this criminal barely took any effort on his part. But he doesn’t move away.
“Kacchan, c’mon.” With a helpless glance at the awkwardly lingering sidekicks, Izuku tugs him gently by the arm. “I’m fine, we’re fine, let’s—”
That’s what makes Katsuki finally move, turning his wild glare to meet green eyes. Izuku has to resist the urge to shrink back, not having that look directed at him in ages. “You are not fucking fine, Deku, don’t even start with that shit right now!”
But he peels himself away from the robber, finally letting his sidekicks take him away as Izuku places both his hands on shaking shoulders. “Katsuki.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Katsuki, I could’ve handled myself if it came down to it,” Izuku says lowly, massaging his fingers through tense shoulders. “You know that, right?”
“‘Course I do, nerd, but—” Katsuki blinks, as if the floodgates in his mind finally started letting in rational thought again— “I dunno, I saw him take you away ‘n got scared, I guess.”
Izuku sighs. He understands Katsuki’s need to see him safe, especially after what happened the last time he was let out of the man’s sight in their high school days, but still… “Kacchan, I get that I’m just a civilian now. I don’t have anything to protect me anymore except my body. But you don’t need to freak out as if I’m going to die every time, okay?”
Katsuki nods reluctantly.
“And besides, if I remember correctly, I’m not the one who has experience dying,” Izuku attempts to joke. It seems to work, because Katsuki’s lips lift as well and he huffs lightly.
“And I still fucking came back like the kickass hero I am,” he replies, finally looking up into Izuku’s eyes. And then his gaze drifts back down to his neck, where a trickle of blood now stains his t-shirt. “Izuku, you’re bleeding—”
Izuku snorts, if only to prevent another freak-out from him. “Yeah, and I’ve gotten way worse just from sparring with you. I’ll patch myself up when I get my hands on first-aid.”
“Wait,” Katsuki frowns in confusion. “Why are you even in this area?! I thought you were going straight home today?”
“Ah, uhm—” Izuku grins sheepishly, hand coming up to the back of his head— “I wanted to surprise you…?”
A light whack to the side of his head makes him laugh. Katsuki drags him out of the shop by his ear, ignoring the concerned looks people throw their way. “You fucking dumbass, why would you show up to a patrol knowing I’d be in the middle of crime all day?!”
Izuku can only whine as he lets himself be dragged to the direction of Katsuki’s hero agency. “You’re always surprising me in class, so I thought I’d switch it up for a change!”
“Yeah, and now you’ve gotten yourself into more shit, like the idiot trouble magnet that you are! I’m patching you up at the agency and then clocking out early, don’t even try to argue.”
“Kacchan,” he tries to protest. He’s a hero, he shouldn’t be leaving early just to pamper Izuku over a tiny injury!
“I said, don’t even try to argue, ya hear?!”
Letting himself be condemned to a clingy Katsuki, Izuku wraps his arm around the man with a laugh. The other harrumphs triumphantly, finally letting go of his ear.
They probably look like idiots to the public, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.