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Goddamn, the nerd’s taking a long ass time to put on a single suit. One that’s supposed to piece together all on its own with the push of a button, no less. Katsuki glances at his phone and realizes that it’s only really been six minutes since Izuku slipped into the locker rooms. Besides, it’s his first time in it, testing the fit and whatever else, so really, it’s just Katsuki on edge.
He’s trying his best to feel casual about this whole thing. Burying his hands in his pockets, slouching his shoulders slightly, cocking his hip and shifting his weight onto his better leg. Anything to keep him fidgeting so hard that he starts a fucking fire. But as he waits for Izuku to get changed and meet him here—in Ground Beta of all places, after getting special privileges courtesy of Eraser—he can’t help but feel giddy in a way he hasn’t in a long time.
Screw it, this ain’t something casual. This is the whole deal. This is everything. His life’s mission for the past six years is finally coming to fruition. And most importantly: he’s gonna get to see Izuku weep with joy and it’s gonna be fucking fantastic.
He’s mid quad stretch when Izuku finally does appear. It feels stupid but Katsuki would be lying if he said the sight of him didn’t snatch his breath away. He drinks Izuku in as he walks toward him, green eyes fixed on his wrist where he’s adjusting a strap there. He looks badass, from fluffy green head to steel-toed boots, clad in his perfectly fitted new mecha suit.
The suit that Katsuki mostly designed himself, based off Izuku’s old one in terms of looks and the OFA quirks detailed in All Might’s personal notebook. He got inputs from the experts of course—Hatsume and Shield vital to its very existence. But it was Katsuki who made sure it was perfectly catered for Izuku; no one else know him better on or off the field than him and that’s a badge of honor he wear with fucking pride.
“How’s it feel?” Katsuki asks, clearing his throat of the sudden wave of emotions welling up.
Izuku grins brightly, looking down and taking it in. “Great!” he says. “Honestly, it fits perfectly. Kind of scary how accurate the measurements are, haha.”
Katsuki grumbles under his breath, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It’s his job to keep up with the numbers, alright? Fuck off.
Izuku clasps and unclasps the wrist piece again and Katsuki immediately catches onto the fidgeting. There’s an odd kind of uncertainty in Izuku’s eyes that’s making him nauseous; he hates it.
“Speak up, nerd,” Katsuki says and Izuku’s head snaps up, eyes wide.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki crosses his arms. “You hate it or something?”
Izuku’s already frantically shaking his head. “Wha–No! No, of course not, Kacchan. I love it so much, I’m so, so, so, grateful. I promise. Really. I just—I...”
“Then what is it?” Katsuki softens his tone. If there’s something to say, he wants it out now. No more beating around the bush, no more trying to guess or read minds when things feel hazy.
The two of them have always been kind of shit at words. At talking like normal people. It was either talking with their fists or holding it all in until the words burst out on their own, ripped out like a barbed arrow, leaving them both raw and exposed.
They’ve always been paradoxical like that. Having such a deep understanding of one another in a way that feels like they’re one person, and yet, constantly stumbling upon misunderstandings and assumptions.
It’s the shit that brings out the stupidity in them both and Katsuki is done being stupid in all the ways that don’t count.
After opening and closing his mouth for a while, Katsuki sees Izuku take a steadying inhale. His jaw sets and his shoulders square and Katsuki can only hold his breath.
“Kacchan, it’s just…hard. Jumping back into something head first when you’ve spent years grieving it, you know?”
The words are a pang to his heart. It’s not like Katsuki hadn’t considered that Izuku might feel this way. He’d just hoped that pure excitement to get back out there would outweigh it all. But that ain't how life works; things aren’t just clear cut and smooth, especially for them.
Izuku’s eyes begin to well with tears and he scrubs at them hard; a burn starts behind Katsuki’s own. He gives Izuku a moment to get some of it out of his system, only reaching out when he thinks the nerd’s gonna scrub his damn freckles off.
“Hey,” Katsuki says, pulling away his hand. Izuku sniffles, looking away for a second before meeting Katsuki’s gaze again.
“Hey,” Izuku’s voice wobbles a bit. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how I really feel, Kacchan, I’m not sad, far from it. I’m so—so happy and grateful. But I just feel kind of—I don’t even know—”
Their hands are still linked and Katsuki squeezes Izuku’s. “Oi, ‘nough rambling. I get it, I do, I promise. And this is how you feel, don’t try to pretend it’s all just fuckin’ fine and dandy. ’S worse when you do that. You can be happy and confused as shit all at once, that’s fuckin’ normal.”
Izuku looks as relieved as he is surprised at Katsuki’s words. Tch, see? It’s like he doesn’t know him at all sometimes.
“C’mere.”
Katsuki doesn't even have to pull him in, Izuku collides into his chest all on his own. His solid arms wrap tight around Katsuki’s back and Katsuki just holds him close and breathes him in, hair in his nose and all.
No shame or guilt or high, high walls built in the name of keeping each other at arms’ length, whatever their reasons may be. They’ve been doing better over the years, though the progress has been slower than Katsuki would have liked. Graduating had a lot to do with that, and then adult life tends to be its own challenge. Brick by brick, Katsuki has worked on taking his walls apart since first year, only for Izuku to borrow them to build his own after the ensuing war and the years to come.
Always a tug and a push with them. Back and forth. Two steps forward, one step back. Always a bit of a fight. But always moving onward, eyes on the prize. For too long Katsuki had thought Izuku had been standing in the way of his damn trophy but now he knows better. Izuku has always been his prize.
And now steady in his own right Katsuki has no problem helping him find his footing again, right by his side where he belongs.
“We can do this some other time, y’know,” Katsuki murmurs. “Just wanted you to test out the suit but I ain’t tryna rush you. You lead, I’ll follow. Just say the word.”
Knobbly hands grip his suit in the back and Izuku shakes his head. “I still want to kick your butt, Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice is nasal and muffled. “I just need a minute.”
Katsuki smiles into his hair. “Alright, then. Cry it out, ya big baby.” There’s no way in hell he’s admitting he’s got some tears too.
After who knows how long, they finally part. Izuku’s hold loosens and he grins up at him. There’s that sparkle in them again, that feral flame, the one that Katsuki’s missed more than he thought. It ignites something in him and he nearly crashes right back in, lips first. He really would have, if the nerd didn’t start floating without a fucking warning.
“Oi!” Katsuki laughs, feeling light. Izuku sticks his tongue out, wobbling a little but quickly regaining his balance. His eyebrows pinch for a moment and then dark wires spring out from Izuku’s arms, the suit’s version of Blackwhip. Katsuki’s heart lurches as he launches himself in the air too, evading capture.
“I’m winning this time, Kacchan,” Izuku declares, green eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Don’t go easy on me.”
A surge of affection and excitement floods Katsuki all at once; it’s almost overwhelming. There’s a lump in his throat and he wants to fucking cry. This is it. This is what he wants. What he needs.
“Yeah right,” Katsuki shouts back, smiling so big that his cheeks hurt. “Eat my dust, Deku!” And with that, Katsuki swoops upward, Izuku right on his heels.
Izuku doesn’t struggle as much as Katsuki expected him to, which in itself is also expected. He supposes it’s like riding a bike; the procedural memory is all there, it just takes some readjusting. The suit’s been designed to mimic OFA as best as it can after all, with some tweaks here and there. Izuku seems to wear it naturally just as he did with OFA and Katsuki smugly gives himself a pat on the back for it.
It only takes a few minutes for Izuku to find true stability and then they’re clashing and colliding and flying around just like the good old days. Like nothing’s changed, even if so much has.
Katsuki explodes upward and then twists midair and back down. Ducks his head and rolls. Blows past Smoke Screen and kicks off the hand trying to snag his ankle. No matter what, Izuku chases him down with a single-minded focus. Eyes locked on Katsuki as it should be. The rush of it only fuels Katsuki more, and he laughs as he flips around with a burst from his left hand and Izuku makes a frustrated sound.
“Thought you said you’re winnin’ this!” Katsuki goads, flying close and then whipping away just as quickly.
Izuku growls and the sound is music to Katsuki’s ears. He does it a few times, just to raise the heat of the fire under Izuku’s ass. But on his fifth taunting swoop, the nerd shoots forward with a ridiculous burst of speed. An arm hooks across Katsuki’s middle and he oofs in surprise. And then he’s hurtling towards the ground, Izuku’s manic grin right in his face.
As his back hits the ground, Katsuki tries to laugh despite the air being knocked out of his lungs. Of course. Of course. Of fucking course the nerd figured out the secret little power-up he’d fitted in there all on his own—the hidden canisters that allow a near-perfect imitation of Katsuki’s own explosions.
“Finally caught my Kacchan,” Izuku proclaims in a voice that’s too soft for the moment. They’re both breathing hard and Izuku’s sweat drips down his hairline, his scarred cheek, and then onto Katsuki’s face. The sun glows like a halo around Izuku’s head but it’s got nothing on the grin aimed directly at him.
“Yeah,” Katsuki breathes, voice hitching for many reasons. “Fucking finally.”
Katsuki stares up at him, takes the feel of Izuku pinning him down. The weight of the moment engulfs them in a bubble of their own and Katsuki wants to live here forever.
Izuku bends down first and Katsuki easily lifts his face to meet him in the middle. If he leads, Katsuki will follow, no questions asked. The kiss feels like it’s a long time coming and yet, like it was meant to happen at this very moment. No time lost or wasted. They’re here. Like they always said they would be.
Both their lips are dry and chapped from zipping around in the air and Katsuki can't tell whose smile is curving them upward. Izuku presses down into the kiss like a man starved and Katsuki opens up for him, hoping he’s enough to satiate him. Hoping he’s enough.
Ferociously tender and all-consuming; it’s the only way they know how to be with each other no matter the context. There are tears mingling and laughter bubbling as Izuku’s suit beeps a warning for an unnaturally high heart rate. A hand worms its way between them to rest on the center of Katsuki’s chest, fingertips curling in, and Katsuki holds the hand there.
Izuku’s rambling something unintelligible against his mouth, something that makes his breath shake and the emotions flood out past the dam and Katsuki swallows it all down. He doesn’t need to hear the exact words to know what he’s saying. He knows. He's always known.
When they part at last and their gazes meet, Katsuki is certain that this time they’re finally on the same page. And Izuku’s grin is enough to tell him that he’s just as thrilled to kick start this brand new chapter.