Until Morning

Izuku quells the conversation with a smile (a smile that's definitely not as bright as it should be).

"Thank you for worrying about me, Kacchan," Izuku says softly.

Katsuki feels his eyes sting with tears he tried to train them not to shed. Izuku still carries the handkerchief and hasn't asked—not yet, anyway. As he dabs his eyes as surreptitiously as he can, Katsuki bumps their shoulders to convey something like compassion, even if he can't bring himself to say it aloud.

The rest of the afternoon passes in silence. Katsuki picks up the controller again and half-heartedly beats Deku no less than four times. The mood between them feels heavy, like it has been stained darker. Katsuki's anger simmers just below the level where it bursts out and hurts someone, but he holds it down—shoves it deep inside where it won't bother him just yet. Even if he's failed at keeping Izuku safe, he hasn't been the one to hurt him.

Katsuki sleeps over. That's what they'd planned, but there was no way leaving would feel like the right thing to do anyway. They go through the normal routine of finding pajamas and brushing their teeth elbow-to-elbow at the bathroom sink, but they do it with a lot more silence than usual.

That night, Katsuki finds himself unable to sleep. His eyes are full of the bruises left on Izuku's arms. Even with their hands connected like they always are, Izuku feels out of reach. Katsuki clenches his free hand. He needs to be stronger, stronger. He'll sit on top of the world just so he can protect Izuku from it.

The nightmares come that night. They come in with more force than usual, maybe because of what happened that day. Katsuki feels his body, ragged from fighting, and nearly beaten. He sees the room around them. It's dimly lit. He hears echoes of the voices of friend and foe alike, but there's only one he hears clearly.

"Kacchan." Broken—not enough air in his lungs.

Kacchan. Katsu—

He wakes in cold sweat. There's someone shaking his shoulders. They're saying something, but he can't hear, because his ears are still ringing with blood curdling screams. The moment he realizes who it is through his half-delirium, he lunges forward, clinging onto him to make sure it's real. His name—his real name—not Deku, not useless—spills from Katsuki's lips over and over. It echoes in his head, and he hears his voice—older. 

Izuku's heartbeat is strong in his chest. It's steady, like it should be. It's there, like it should be. Katsuki listens to it and calms his breathing to its rhythm. He starts to peel himself off, glad that Izuku doesn't question him. But this time—

"Kacchan, can we stay like this a little longer?"

Katsuki opens his mouth to refuse, but he shuts it before any sound comes out. He stops trying to separate and relinquishes his doubts for the moment. He lets himself stay pressed against his childhood friend. His own heartbeat is loud in his chest, it's rhythm slowly syncing to Izuku's. Somewhere in the early hours just before dawn, as the room is starting to turn a sort of grayish, they fall asleep again. 

Morning is different. They wake up close, the space between them almost zero. Katsuki realizes first and springs away, without realizing quite how close to the edge of the bed he is. Izuku wakes at the loud thud.

"Kacchan?"

"Shut the hell up."

Izuku's face relaxes as Katsuki rights himself, adjusting his limbs until he sits cross-legged on the floor. Then he laughs. He tries to stifle it at first, but it bursts out. Katsuki grinds his teeth in annoyance.

"Shut up you piece of shit."

"Sorry." Izuku apologizes through his laughter. "It's just…everything feels normal. Even after yesterday."

"Don't talk about that," Katsuki snaps.

He frowns at the look on Izuku's face. It looks like he's dwelling on too many different things. He's pensive in a way that doesn't suit someone his age. Katsuki picks himself up off the floor. He still needs to figure out how he will become stronger (and stronger, and stronger), but he can't stand looking at that expression for a moment longer. Katsuki does the first thing that comes to mind: he tickles Izuku, drawing out shrieks of laughter.

When he stops, Izuku takes a few seconds to recover. "What was that for?"

Katsuki answers with a shrug. "Let's go get breakfast."