Valentinis

“They’re a special creation just for the event,” the bartender was explaining, as she slid a glass across the counter. “I call it the Valentini.”

Izuku laughed brightly as he accepted, admiring the pink liquids that swirled together within. The bartender leaned against the counter as he picked it up, eyes shining as she watched him.

“We use a strawberry gin and a rosé vermouth, for those pretty pink tones, then just a touch of cranberry juice for the redder part, and to cut some of the sweetness.”

Izuku took a sip, eyes widening, and he grinned sheepishly when the bartender smiled at him again.

“It’s delicious!” he said, quickly taking another sip. “Thank you so much!”

“My pleasure,” she assured him. “There’s plenty more where that came from, just drop by when you want a refill.”

“Thank you!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes as he watched. Izuku wouldn’t know flirting if it bit him on the ass, the idiot always just thought people were being friendly. Most of their graduating class didn’t even drink – or at least not much. Katsuki was too worried about some massive incident going down while he wasn’t at full capacity to handle it, and he knew a lot of his coworkers felt the same way. Others relied a little too heavily on the alcohol, which he honestly couldn’t blame them for, as much as he’d have liked to. He had his own shitty vices and coping mechanisms, after all.

Izuku being in the building was, Katsuki thought, the one saving grace of the stupid event. It was bad enough that Katsuki kept being included on the stupid ‘most eligible bachelor’ lists in the first place, let alone that now he was being dragged to whole-ass events because of it. It was a charity event, so he couldn’t exactly get out of it, and he knew he should’ve been glad that he was earning money for unloved children or whatever the hell today’s theme was, but all he wanted to do was go home. He never got to see Izuku these days, though, between their busy schedules as heroes and Izuku’s side hustle as a teacher; admittedly he could have probably made more of an effort, but he didn’t like dragging the nerd away from important shit just to hang out or whatever. Not to mention messaging him saying ‘hey let’s hang out’ came with far too much I miss you subtext, and Katsuki sure as hell wasn’t gonna admit to that.

So instead he settled for watching from afar, keeping an eye on every incident Izuku attended to ensure he was safe at the end of it, and supervising him from across the room while women blatantly flirted with him and he didn’t seem to realise it.

“Mr. Dynamight, a moment of your time?”

He tore his eyes away from the bar, frowning at the woman who had interrupted his observations. She wore a suit and carried a clipboard, which probably meant he was supposed to listen to her, but he couldn’t help being a little annoyed about it.

“One of our main sponsors is excited to meet you,” she explained. “If we can have a few minutes of your time.”

“Fine,” Katsuki conceded with a sigh. “Where are they?”

“Right this way.”

He followed reluctantly, completely unsurprised when she gestured toward a little table, out of the way of most of the people and their noise, occupied only by a couple of women who had to be older than his mother.

“This is Ms. Kobiyama, and Ms. Furuichi. Ladies, Mr. Dynamight.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said, sitting down on a hard stool. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for coming,” Kobiyama said, smiling as she leaned in a little. “These events usually have me bored senseless, but when I saw your name on the attendees, I knew I had to come along.”

“I’m honoured,” Katsuki said, even though he knew it came out far too flatly. “I’m always grateful to be given the opportunity to help raise money for charity.”

“Let me buy you a drink. What’s your go-to? A good whiskey? Bourbon? Wine?”

“Actually I don’t really drink alcohol,” Katsuki said – truthfully, despite what most of the attendees tended to assume. “Always gotta be ready to help people at a moment’s notice, you know? I hear they have a great list of mocktails, though, that I’d love to try – and I hear the bar’s selection is great tonight, so please don’t hold back on my part.”

“Of course!” Kobiyama answered, her eyes widening a little but otherwise concealing her surprise well. “Let’s take a look at a menu, shall we?”

Furuichi gestured to a waiter, and soon there was a menu in her hand, that she leaned over to share. It was a typical old lady move, Katsuki had learned – leaning in to share a menu rather than get one each, taking the chance to accidentally brush against his arm or something and create an opportunity to comment on his body. Oldest trick in the book, gross as it was.

“These cocktails do look delicious,” Furuichi said, leaning in to show him the pictures. “Aren’t they so colourful?”

Katsuki glanced at the pictures, barely holding back a snort. Other than a couple of pink and red lovey-dovey shits, most of them were themed after various heroes’ costumes, but apparently Furuichi hadn’t picked up on that.

“Well, I have to try the Dyna-Mai Tai,” Kobiyama said. “I wonder how long it took them to figure out how to make it the right shade of orange.”

“That explains why I got an email asking for the hex codes of my costume designs.”

“Oh!” Furuichi said, finally catching on. “That does sound tempting, it’s a shame I’m not a big rum drinker.”

“What are your thoughts on Gin?” he asked. “I hear the Valentini is delicious.”

─────

“Actually I don’t really drink alcohol,” Katsuki said, for what must have been the sixteenth time in just a few hours. “Always gotta be ready to help people at a moment’s notice, you know? I tried a couple of the mocktails earlier, though, and they were excellent.”

“Of course!” the old lady gushed, nodding emphatically. “Please excuse my presumptions, I thought all you heroes probably needed something to take the edge off at the end of the day, but that makes so much more sense! Please pick whatever you like, it’s on me. I would never pressure you into alcohol! Thank you for keeping us all safe!”

She leaned over to show him the menu, and he pretended he hadn’t already memorised the whole thing, letting her have her fun.

“Oh, that Dyna-Mai Tai looks fantastic,” she said, giggling to herself. “Do they offer a virgin version for you?”

“They should all be virgins, shouldn’t they?”

Katsuki groaned, twitching away when the familiar arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Purely because he doesn’t drink, that is,” Eijirou continued, winking at the giggling old lady. “Looks like I’m late to the party, did our Blasty Boy offer to get you a drink or should I do the honours?”

“Don’t be silly!” she insisted, still giggling. “Come have a seat, let me buy you both something, for humouring an old women and her interest in heroics.”

“I couldn’t possibly!”

“I insist,” she said, patting his arm fondly. “Do you stick to the virgin options too?”

“Of course not,” Eijirou assured her, winking again. “I like a drink with a little more experience.”

Katsuki wondered if they’d notice if he ran away and never came back, but he was pretty sure his publicist would quit on the spot, and it had taken him a long time to find one who got him, so that seemed like a bad idea.

“Oh,” Eijirou said breathily, leaning in a little closer as they scanned the menu together. “I’d love a Happy Ending.”

Fuck his publicist.

Before Katsuki could get out of his seat, another older lady was joining them, escorted by that same woman with a clipboard who was going to be first on his hit list the day he decided he was done being a hero.

Okay, that was never gonna happen, but a man could dream.

“I have one question I’ve been dying to ask,” she said, before Clipboard could even introduce them. “How is it that such a young, talented, handsome man like yourself is still being named on the eligible bachelors list? Why don’t you have a sweet girl waiting for you at home?”

“Well for one thing, girls are gross.”

A resounding thump shook the table, and Katsuki glanced over to see Eijirou face down against it, groaning to himself as the women stared at them both in silence.

“Bro,” Eijirou said softly. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

Katsuki understood far too late, well aware that his cheeks were turning pink as he realised – damn his stupid pale complexion.

“Not you two,” Katsuki said quickly. “I mean... you know.”

Thankfully, the women laughed, one of them reaching over to pat his cheek fondly.

“It’s okay, we know you’re just humouring us, but it’s still good fun for a couple of old farts to come out and flirt with some handsome young men every once in a while,” she assured him. “Do you have a sweet boy waiting for you at home?”

“No,” Katsuki admitted. “But, uh...”

“Oh? Someone in mind?”

Katsuki turned much redder this time, groaning when all three of them laughed at his expense, but unable to come up with some kind of argument to get out of the stupid hole he’d dug himself.

“He’s a childhood friend,” Eijirou explained in a stage whisper. “Dynamight has been in love with the guy since they were children, it’s actually very cute the way he pines. Refuses to do anything about it though, claims he’s too good for him, isn’t that wild?”

“Oh sweetie, who could ever be too good for you? You’re one of the top heroes in the country at such a young age, you’re here flirting with old women for charity donations even though you don’t even like women, and, well, look at you. Who could ever be too good for you?”

“Unless he’s another hero,” the other woman whispered, eyes sparkling. “Don’t tell me it’s the two of you!’

“No, of course not!” Eijirou laughed. “I’m not scared of a strong, powerful woman who donates to important charities.”

“You’re too sweet,” she laughed. “You’ve been practicing for tonight, haven’t you?”

“You know it,” he laughed. “Want to hear some of my best lines?”

“I’d love to.”

Katsuki slumped in his seat a little, relieved that Eijirou had managed to drag the heat off of him – he’d have to buy him lunch or something the next time they worked together, as thanks. It didn’t stop him wishing, though, that Clipboard would reappear, heralded by a chorus of choir singers as she came to save him from his embarrassment. Flirting with old women he didn’t care about, he could do; thinking about his stupid crush? That was a lot harder.

─────

“I don’t drink,” Katsuki said, much more firmly this time around. He’d somehow found himself surrounded by a dozen old men, each one trying to casually slide him a clearly alcoholic drink as they begged him to regale them with stories of his captures. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Not even one, for a big strong man like you?” the man wheedled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t even affect you!”

“No, thank you.”

Apparently the whole room had caught wind of his sexuality, and like a true professional who just wanted profits from the severely over-priced drinks to donate to underprivileged kids without true loves or whatever the fuck they were fundraising for, Clipboard had happily delivered him a squad of old men to flirt with him instead. He both hated her and admired her for it, in all honesty.

“How about that one guy a few years ago, when you got impaled by a freakin’ steel bar?”

Katsuki nodded, grateful for the distraction, and turned to the man with his shining eyes.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You just kept fighting, I can barely get out of bed in the morning, these days. How do you do it?”

“Honestly, with all the adrenalin and everything, I don’t even notice it, a lot of the time. I remember feeling the impact of that one, feeling like something wasn’t right, but it wasn’t until I’d incapacitated him that I kinda looked down and saw all the blood. Then it all hit me. But I was too focussed on taking him down, until then.”

“I can’t even imagine,” he said, letting out a low whistle. “Thank you for protecting us. Let me get you a drink.”

“I don’t—”

“Non-alcoholic,” he amended, holding up a hand placatingly. “Have you seen a menu yet?”

Three different people immediately offered him one, and Katsuki accepted the one closest, nodding gratefully as he flipped it open. He was pretty sure he’d memorised the thing, but it seemed weird to just pick something out of thin air, so to the menu he went.

Someone gestured to a waiter, and the man leaned over to say something to him, making Katsuki bristle a little.

“I’ll take the virgin Shototonic,” he said, when the man and the waiter both looked his way. “Make extra sure that it’s not alcoholic.”

“Of course, sir.”

The man handed over his credit card, and Katsuki nodded gratefully, trying and failing to manage a smile. It was the one thing the agencies drilled into them all, smile and be friendly, treat them like they matter, but Katsuki had just never been able to do it.

“Alright, enough ice breakers,” one of the men said, leaning in against the table. “Can we see the scars?”

The group murmured and nodded their agreement, shifting to make sure they had a good view of him, and Katsuki snorted, reaching for the top button on his stupid, ironed shirt.

“That depends,” he said, undoing just the one to give them a peek of skin. “You gonna leave some good tips?”

Immediately there were a bunch of phone screens and receipts being held up, with evidence of their donations and even a few transactions for more being sent through, and with a snort, Katsuki opened up a few more buttons, to show off his chest scars – he knew it wasn’t the scars they wanted to see, but it wasn’t like he didn’t do shirtless photo shoots all the time, anyway. He was sure plenty of those men owned a few copies of their own, somewhere hidden away at home.

The waiter returned with their drinks, and Katsuki took a little sniff before he dared to take a sip. He was well aware of some of the shady shit that went down at those events, but he knew as long as the drink came directly from a waiter, all of whom were meticulously vetted before being employed, he was probably safe.

“I’ve left my card on file,” the man said, touching Katsuki’s arm lightly. “If you want a refill tonight, it’s on me – grab as many as you’d like.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

“But seriously,” he said, grinning. “Tell us about the scars.”

─────

“I gotta... I gotta call my ride. Hold on a sec.”

Katsuki sighed as he watched Izuku fumble his phone out of his pocket, staring intently at his phone screen as he poked at it weakly. There was a little piece of toilet paper stuck to his face, where he’d wiped away vomit and gotten the paper stuck to his face, but he twitched away when Katsuki tried to reach out and remove it.

“Hold on,” Izuku said again, wobbling a little as he tried to reposition himself. “I gotta make a phone call...”

Katsuki refused to acknowledge the hint of jealousy that sneaked into him. Who exactly was the nerd calling to pick him up? His mother wasn’t even in the same city, and half his friends had been drinking at the same event that had left him hunched on cold tiles in a semi-public bathroom, none of them were in any state to drive either. If he heard All Might’s voice coming out of that phone, agreeing to come pick him up at three in the morning when Katsuki was right there, he was gonna be so damn mad.

“He’s not picking up,” Izuku said, pouting. “He told me to call.”

“It’s fine, nerd, I’ll take you home.”

“Noooooo. I promised I’d call if I got drunk and not go home with anyone else!”

Katsuki felt a pang in his chest, but he swallowed hard and refused to think about it too closely, refused to show how much it hurt.

“I’m not anyone,” he objected instead. “I’m Bakugou fuckin’ Katsuki, who the hell else is gonna take care of your ass?”

Okay, maybe he didn’t hide it that well.

“Just... send him a text and tell him I’m bringing you home, okay?” he said, a little softer. “I drove here, so it’s no big deal.”

“But he might be waiting for my caaaaaaaall.”

“Clearly not, since he didn’t pick up.”

“I’ll call one more time,” Izuku insisted, jabbing at the screen again. “Pick uuuuuup. You always pick up. Why no pick up.”

“It’s fine, Izuku,” Katsuki sighed. “Just send him a text. Tell him you’ll be home soon.”

“Fine,” Izuku huffed. “On... way... home... now... why... not... answer... phone...”

He hit send, and Katsuki offered him a hand, helping him up to his wobbly feet. He swayed on his spot, and Katsuki finally removed the piece of toilet paper from his face as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Izuku’s waist to support him.

“I had soooo many drinks,” Izuku said happily, as Katsuki walked him out the bathroom door and through the lobby. “People were so nice.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Katsuki agreed. “Gotta grab my keys from the valet, wait here a sec.”

Part of him considered dragging Izuku along with him, to make sure he couldn’t disappear, but with how slowly and clumsily he moved, Katsuki was pretty sure he wasn’t going anywhere regardless. So he shoved him into a comfy-looking chair, reminding him sternly to stay put, then hurried off to the front desk to ask for his keys. Apparently it had been some kind of security measure, to ensure no one tried to drive home drunk, but Katsuki was still a little bitter about being forced to hand over his keys.

“Haven’t had a drop, I don’t drink,” Katsuki assured them, the moment the staff member opened their mouth. “I’m taking Deku home now too, he had too much.”

“Thank you, Sir. Drive safe.”

She handed over his keys obediently, and he smiled to himself when he saw the charm hanging from them. No matter how many times he looked at it, no matter how big and unwieldy it was as a keychain, he still couldn’t get enough of the thing.

When he returned to Izuku’s chair, he found the nerd all teary-eyed, pouting at his phone as he tapped something out again. With a long sigh, Katsuki bent down and wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist, hauling him up to his feet and into a hug.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

Izuku nodded, his lips a little trembly still, and Katsuki swore to himself then and there that as soon as he found out who the bastard was that wasn’t picking up his phone, he was gonna murder him.

He tucked Izuku into the backseat, watching him sink in contentedly – he always had liked that seat – and made sure he was buckled in, giving him a stern warning not to touch the plug as they drove. That night had been a fun one – not. Then, he slid into the driver’s seat, locking the doors and taking a moment to just appreciate that they’d gotten in without any major mishaps.

Speaking of mishaps.

He reached into his glove box, digging out a bag, and offered it to Izuku in the back seat, watching him take it with a little frown.

“In case you feel sick,” he explained. “Don’t throw up in my car, you hear me? You do it into that bag or not at all.”

“Okayyyyy.”

He seemed oddly disappointed by the instruction, but Katsuki didn’t have the energy to address it – it was already far too late for his taste.

The drive was quiet, other than Izuku mumbling to himself as he tapped away at his phone, and Katsuki didn’t bother to turn on the radio. There was something peaceful about the trip, about spending it alone with Izuku despite his intoxication; from the sound of it he wasn’t going to get many more of those moments, at least for a while. So he relished it while he could, letting Izuku hum and whine and mumble behind him, and occasionally glanced at him in the rear view mirror, just to make sure he wasn’t crying over his lack of messages again.

“Alright, we’re here,” he said reluctantly, when he parked outside Izuku’s apartment block.

“Here?”

“Home,” Katsuki clarified, climbing out of the car and opening up the back door. “Come on, out you come.”

“You told me not to touch!” Izuku pouted.

“Right. Sorry.” He leaned over, unfastening Izuku’s seatbelt for him, and offered him a hand. “Sorted?”

Izuku nodded, letting Katsuki help him out, but still he swayed on his feet as he waited for Katsuki to lock up behind them, and Katsuki found himself stepping closer again, helping to hold him up. Izuku finally put his phone back in his pocket, in favour of leaning on Katsuki easier, and Katsuki felt oddly triumphant – take that, phone-ignoring bastard.

They’d just made it to Izuku’s door when Katsuki heard the groan, glancing over right on time to see Izuku double over, puking all over Katsuki’s fancy leather shoes, the slashes quickly soaking into his new, tailored, ironed pants. He swore under his breath, fumbling for the spare key he carried (take that, phone-ignoring bastard) to let them inside, and Izuku, thankfully, ran for the bathroom without any prompting.

Katsuki groaned behind his back, stripping off his pants and shoes in the hallway and wondering if he could justify just throwing them away. They’d been expensive, sure, but he earned a decent living as a hero, and his parents were always accosting him with clothing anyway, so it wouldn’t be hard to replace the pants, at least. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to bring himself to wear them again anyway, after seeing... that.

Mind made up, he tossed his socks aside too, inspecting his feet and legs for any kind of splashback before he stepped inside. He could hear Izuku retching into the toilet, so he showed himself into the kitchen to find a plastic bag – or four – to dispose of his gross clothes. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to get home with no pants or shoes, yet, but that was his next problem to tackle. First things first.

He gagged as he bagged up the mess, holding it out at full extension to drop it in the trash. It was probably going to stink by the time Izuku emptied his bin, but that was his own damn fault, now, wasn’t it? He grabbed cleaning supplies next, attacking the floor in the hallway as best he could, with just as much vigour (or lack thereof) and gagging as the clothes. And finally, when it was all cleaned up, he locked the front door and headed for Izuku’s bathroom.

The nerd was probably going to want a shower too, after all the puking, but that was his own damn problem too.

Izuku finally seemed to be done by the time Katsuki got clean, so he wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed a bottle of water, watching Izuku rinse his mouth out three times before Katsuki hauled him to his feet. He pulled a face as he reached over to close the toilet lid and flush it — Twice — meanwhile Izuku’s hand roamed to Katsuki’s waist, making his bare skin tingle under the touch. Katsuki wasn’t sure if he loved or hated it.

“You want to shower, too?” Katsuki offered.

“Nuh-uh,” Izuku pouted. “Want bed.”

“Alright.”

He half-dragged Izuku into the bedroom, hunting down his pyjamas (in the same drawer he’d kept them in since he was four, take that phone-ignoring bastard) and helping him change, before he tucked him into bed. While Izuku got snuggled in, all comfy and warm, Katsuki disappeared to find him a bucket, to leave beside the bed in case of any more mishaps.

Honestly, though, Katsuki was kind of impressed he’d held it through back the entire car ride.

“Alright, you’ve got your bucket right here in case you feel sick again,” Katsuki explained, watching one of Izuku’s eyes crack back open to watch. “There’s another bottle of water on the nightstand here, for rinsing or drinking. Your phone is plugged in. Are you warm enough?”

Izuku nodded, apparently content, despite the tears that threatened to spill over again.

“What’s going on? You okay?” Katsuki asked, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

“Why didn’t he answer my calls?”

Katsuki sighed. He should’ve known something of the sort was coming, even though he wished it had never come.

“I don’t know, Izuku,” Katsuki said sincerely, reaching out to stroke Izuku’s messy hair lightly. “He’s probably just asleep, I’m sure he’ll call in the morning and be super apologetic. I’m just glad I was there to get you home safe.”

“Thank you,” Izuku sighed, snuggling down into his blankets. “Maybe tomorrow he’ll call.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he will.”

“I miss him.”

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

“I hope so.”

Katsuki felt a pain in his chest, like his heart was ready to burst at any moment with how broken it was by Izuku’s words, but still he gave Izuku one last pat and stood up again, digging out clean clothes from Izuku’s closet to borrow, and dressing himself to head home. Once he was in bed himself, he’d be able to let it all go, when he was all alone in a cold bed where no one could see or hear any of it happen. But for now, he had to keep it together, to get himself home safely. It was a good thing he’d taken the day off work, in anticipation of the late night.

He locked the door behind himself, trudged down the stairs, and sank into the driver’s seat of his car, resisting the urge to thump the steering wheel or maybe drive off a bridge or something. He’d always known Izuku was too good for him, after all, but he hadn’t expected to suddenly have to face it.

His phone buzzed on the seat beside him, and Katsuki reached across with a sigh. He hadn’t had a chance to tell Eijirou he was leaving, so he was probably just checking in like usual, or maybe requesting a ride – Katsuki supposed he could drive back there if he really needed to, but he kind of wanted to just be alone.

Although, being alone was probably not the best idea, at least his therapist would say so. She’d tell him to talk it out, to let his friends in and let them support him, so maybe Eijirou wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

To his surprise, while he did have a text from Eijirou waiting – letting him know he’d gotten home safely in a taxi – he also found seventeen more notifications beside it. Texts, voicemails, missed calls, all from...

Fuck.

Katsuki slammed the car door behind him in his haste, barely stopping to lock it, taking the stairs two at a time to get back to Izuku’s door quicker. He fumbled the key three times, trying to get it in the lock, and was seriously considering just kicking the door down by the time he finally got it in, barely stopping to lock it again behind him as he raced inside. He was still barefoot, hadn’t thought to borrow some shoes on his way out, but he didn’t even care – much – about the gravel he tracked in from the carpark, all he cared about was getting back to that bedside immediately.

“Kacchan?” a weak voice asked, muffled by tear-soaked sheets.

“I’m here, Izuku,” Katsuki said softly, kneeling down beside him and wiping away his tears. “I swear to God you’re the stupidest drunk I’ve ever met, but I’m here.”

“I called you, Kacchan.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki said fondly, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I was standing right beside you the whole time, why would I answer my phone when you want my attention?”

He held up his screen as evidence, and Izuku sniffled, wiping away his tears to look. Sure enough, there were his texts:

Kacchhaaaan I'm drnik

pikk mee up?

I nned a rie

Kacchan yout olted mee to call if i needed yhou

I missss yuuu

Kacchan piik up?

I lob yu

“I was driving you home,” Katsuki explained, a little teary himself despite his laughter. “You big idiot.”

“M’sorry,” Izuku mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Katsuki assured him. “I just wanted you to know I’ve seen them now, okay? I’m here, I got you home safe, just like I promised I would. Never hesitate to call, okay? I promise I’ll pick up next time, even if I’m carrying your ass to the car when you call.”

“Thanks, Kacchan,” Izuku said, smiling softly. “M’so sleepy.”

“Me too. Get some rest, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Stay?”

I lob yu

Katsuki nodded.

“You sure you want me to?” he asked, already rounding the bed anyway.

“M’sure,” Izuku agreed, rolling over to watch him strip back down to his borrowed boxers.

“Okay. Thanks.”

He crawled into bed, letting Izuku jam himself against his bare chest, humming contentedly as he snuggled in close.

“I love you,” Katsuki whispered. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“I love you too,” Izuku assured him, smiling into Katsuki’s shoulder. “Wasn’t sure if you’d caught up yet.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki said, chuckling all the same. “It took me a while, I know.”

“Talk tomorrow,” Izuku said firmly, hugging him a little tighter. “Cuddles first.”

“Okay,” Katsuki humoured him. “Cuddles it is.”

Katsuki was too selfish to turn him down, after all. Even if, in the morning, Izuku regretted it all and never wanted to talk to him again. Even if years down the line Izuku would still be making fun of him for thinking he was serious, instead of just drunkenly saying things. Even if it was Katsuki’s last day on earth and he met his demise to an asshole villain the very next day. Even if absolutely anything got in the way, he’d still savour those moments curled together, twining their limbs and sharing each other’s warmth.

“Kacchan?” Izuku whispered, his breath tickling Katsuki’s neck.

“Yeah?” Katsuki asked warily.

“Don’t buy me any Valentinis, okay?”

Katsuki snorted, but nodded, hugging Izuku just a little bit tighter in his arms.

“You got it, nerd.”