#twinstarsweek2020 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bkdk-writings-dump · 4 years

Text

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Basically, Izuku gets hit by a quirk that is the equivalent of Hanahaki disease, and is very distraught because he thinks Katsuki will surely reject him. Katsuki, meanwhile, is trying very hard not be concerned about the weird flower-coughing quirk Izuku’s been hit with to varying degrees of success. Written for Twin Stars Week 2020.

Day 6: Hanahaki

Izuku coughed into his elbow, the tickling feeling of petals rising up in his throat until at last two surfaced, round and red with a patch of white coloring at the thinner base. They were red anemones, he’d realized after coughing up a whole one earlier that day, and he had no idea how they were getting in his throat in the first place or where they were coming from. Nonetheless, he picked up one of the petal’s he’d produced and held it out to show Recovery Girl.

“Hm. That is certainly strange,” she agreed. “And how long did you say this has been going on for?”

“Well, I’ve been coughing for a few days now, but it wasn’t until yesterday that the petals started showing up. I thought maybe I’d eaten something strange, but then today I saw a whole flower and realized what it was,” Izuku explained.

“Right. And you don’t particularly recall anything that might have caused it?” she asked.

“No. I… if it’s some kind of quirk, I don’t know who used it on me or when,” Izuku shrugged, then started coughing again. Recovery Girl gave him a moment to get over the fit, and he settled after coughing up a third petal. “Ahem, sorry,” he cleared his throat.

“Don’t be,” she shook her head. “However, I have to agree that there must be a quirk causing this. I’ve simply never seen anything like it before.”

“Mn,” Izuku nodded.

“I’ll have a look through the quirk registry to see if anything matches this description, and let you know if there’s any information on what it is or how to stop it. In the meantime... would you like some cough drops?” she offered a bag of cherry flavored lozenges, shaking it a few times.

“Sure, thanks,” he nodded, taking the bag. “It’s not so bad, really. Just… strange.”

“Mm,” Recovery Girl nodded understandingly.

“Well, anyways. Thank you! I better get back to class,” Izuku waved goodbye, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and exiting the nurse’s office. He paused outside, sighing as he slipped the cough drops into one of his bag’s pockets, knowing he hadn’t been telling the whole truth in there, or, at the very least, leaving out another possibly important detail.

Ever since the coughing started, and especially since the petals started showing up, he’s really only been able to think about one thing: his crush, Katsuki. Of course, Katsuki takes up a large portion of thoughts regularly, since Izuku’s been drowning in unrequited love and admiration for him for years, but usually when he’s not around Izuku’s able to easily divert his attention elsewhere. In the past few days, though, thoughts of Katsuki were ever-present. And not just the usual ‘I wonder what Kacchan is doing right now’ or ‘Kacchan’s hair looks nice today.’ No, now every time he thought about Katsuki, he was taken over with longing and despair, a pain burning in his chest from wanting so badly to be with Katsuki that’s almost worse than the coughing fits.

Izuku paused by a trash can in the hall, his eyes swelling with tears now that he was alone and being taken over by the thoughts again. Thoughts of kissing Katsuki, of being held in his arms. Thoughts of confessing to Katsuki and being rejected outright. Thoughts of how alone and tormented he would be if he couldn’t have him. Thoughts of dying from the heartbreak, or doing it himself if his sorrow didn’t kill him right away.

Tears streaming down his cheeks into the trash, he started coughing violently again and gripped either side of the bin, feeling something bigger than usual on its way up. At long last the flowers revealed themselves, two whole anemones along with a scattering of extra petals falling into the garbage, their bright red hue so vibrant atop the pile of crumpled plastic and tissues.

He stood back up and wiped a hand over his mouth to catch the spit that had come up with it, and then took a deep breath forcing the thoughts back down.

He needed to get back to class.

---

When Izuku stepped into Recovery Girl’s office again, he was surprised to see Aizawa and All Might there too. They looked at him with vaguely concerned expressions, and he gulped, his grip on his back-pack straps tightening.

“Sit down, Midoriya,” Aizawa said, and he did, taking the only other empty chair in the room.

“W-what are you all here for?” Izuku questioned, blindly hoping it was somehow unrelated.

“Recovery Girl called us here as soon as she found the probable cause for your, uh, ailment,” All Might explained, somehow bashful about it.

“Why? Is it… bad?” Izuku squeaked.

“Well, we thought so when she read the description of the quirk, but once we called up it’s user, she didn’t seem too concerned,” Aizawa said, sounding more annoyed than anything.

“What?” Izuku looked between them, confused, and finally Recovery Girl stood up.

“Oh, quit it you two. You’re scaring him!” she chastised, sighing before looking back at Izuku. “I had a look through registered quirks that could cause someone to cough up flowers, and I only found on the books that belongs to someone in the area, a young woman by the name of Hana.”

“Okay? And does she remember giving it to me?” Izuku asked.

“Well, no. But you must have crossed paths accidentally, because it has an area of effect of about ten feet around her,” she explained.

“What? But, then, how doesn’t she give it to everyone she meets?” Izuku questioned.

“Because it has a rather peculiar requirement for activation,” she answered, and suddenly All Might was looking away all bashfully again. Izuku gulped.

“Which is…?” he asked tentatively.

“The person must be, as she puts it, tormented by a deep and passionate, but unrequited love,” came the answer.

“What! But I don’t – I mean, it’s not – I can’t – I…” he trailed off, face gradually reddening as he realized there really was no denying it.

“Can we just get on with the explanation?” Aizawa huffed, and All Might nodded eagerly.

“Right. Well, the premise is, that as soon as you walked through her area of effect, that unrequited love took physical form via a seed in your lungs, where it grew into a flowering plant. You’ll keep coughing up more flowers as the plant grows, and become more and more tormented by your own feelings,” Recovery Girl continued, and Izuku’s face paled at the accuracy of it all. “The only way to reverse it naturally is for your feelings to be returned. When we called Hana, she was surprisingly unconcerned about the whole thing, because apparently nearly every single person her quirk has affected ended up happily coupled with the object of their affections and perfectly fine in the end.”

“A-almost every single person?” Izuku raised an eyebrow.

“Right, well, she did say there was one man who wouldn’t confess, and after two weeks of his cough progressing, had emergency surgery to remove the plant before it asphyxiated him,” she said, and Izuku’s brows raised un surprise, a grimace curling his lips down as he raised a hand to his own throat. Could it really… do that?

“And what happened to him? Was he okay?” he asked.

“Well, yes. Except that he lost all memory of the person he had feelings for,” said Recovery Girl.

“Oh,” Izuku looked down at his lap, mind scrambling to make sense of this. “And there’s no other way to reverse the quirk?”

“Not that she knows of, no,” she shrugged.

Izuku just sat silently for a while after that, hands gripping the seat under himself as his eyes scanned the floor. He really only had two options, then: confess to Katsuki, or have the plant removed and forget about him. But then again, did he even have two options? She said the feelings had to be returned, not just confessed! What would happen if Katsuki rejected him? Would he have no choice but to have the surgery, or would he asphyxiate on the spot, drowned by his own heartbreak just like in all those intrusive thoughts?

“Midoriya?” All Might asked, putting a hand on his shoulder that brought him back into the moment. He looked up and sniffled realizing he was crying.

“I-I’m sorry,” he shook the hand off and wiped at his eyes. “This is just… a lot.”

Aizawa sighed then, and he turned to look at him.

“Midoriya. I’m not usually one to encourage relationships between students, but I think in this case the easiest thing to do would be to tell this person, whoever it is,” he said. “I know you teenagers all have fatalistic views about romance, that if you tell your crush they’ll reject you for sure and hate you forever, but you’re a nice boy. You’ll probably be surprised.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Izuku shook his head. “I know he hates me–” he said, and then slapped a hand over his mouth, realizing he’d already said too much. Aizawa looked surprised, but All Might just got this look of understanding on his face and then sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s Bakugou, isn’t it?” he asked softly, and Izuku teared up just at the mention of his name, nodding slowly until he started to cough.

“Midoriya!” All Might put a protective hand on his shoulder, but Recovery Girl shook her head.

“It’s just the quirk,” she reminded him, and then all watched as Izuku retched until at last a bright red anemone fell out of his mouth and landed on the floor, followed shortly by two more petals. Izuku breathed deeply, confirming his throat was clear, and then straightened back up and wiped at his eyes.

Aizawa sighed.

“Well, we’re not going to make this decision for you,” he said, and Recovery Girl nodded solemnly.

“Since you’re still in the early stages, you have some time to think about it,” she said. “Why don’t you rest on it, and we’ll discuss again tomorrow?”

“Yeah… okay,” Izuku nodded, and got up without looking at any of them, eyes trained down in shame. He saw All Might reaching out his hand in the corner of his eye, probably wanting to say something more, but he just turned and left.

It hurt too much to think about.

---

Katsuki tapped his foot against the floor impatiently, waiting for Izuku to get to class. He’d been kinda off lately, coughing a lot, but avoiding Katsuki too, and he couldn’t tell if the nerd was just coming down with a cold or if something was seriously wrong with him.

Finally, he spotted curly green hair and downtrodden green eyes as Izuku shuffled into the classroom, some kind of mini trash can under his arm. Katsuki watched with one brow raised in confusion as he crossed the room to take a seat behind him.

“What the hell is that for?” Katsuki asked, gesturing to the little trash can as he set it down by his side.

“Um… I don’t feel well,” was the only response Izuku gave, his eyes looking anywhere besides Katsuki.

“So what, you’re gonna puke?” Katsuki prodded, a suggestion that he stay home if he’s so sick on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t say it; it would sound too much like he cared about him.

“N-no, not exactly,” Izuku shook his head, starting to fidget with his fingers.

“Then what the hell is this all about? Are you sick or not?” Katsuki pressed again, and Izuku coughed into his elbow before answering.

“Um… I think Aizawa’s gonna explain so if you’ll just…” he paused to cough again, “wait,” he got the word out before his coughing escalated and he finally leaned over to the bucket, a small red object coming out of his throat and disappearing into the bottom.

“What the fuck – is that blood?” Katsuki said, probably a little too loud, and then the whole class was looking at them.

The door slammed shut a second later, and they all gasped, turning to see Aizawa glaring at them, his tired, cranky glare shutting them up before they could pester Izuku with questions.

“No, it’s not,” Aizawa answered for him. “And since I was going to announce this anyway, I might as well get it over with now. Izuku has been affected by a quirk that makes him cough up flowers. It’s none of anyone else’s concern, but his coughing will probably disrupt class every now and again, so we wanted to warn you now to make it easier to ignore. It will probably go away in less than two weeks. If you have any other questions you can ask Midoriya outside of class time. Now, I’m going to take attendance so be quiet.”

The class obeyed, waiting quietly to be called on, but Bakugou could hardly fight the urge to turn around and get another look at Izuku.

A quirk that made you cough up flowers? What the hell was all that about, and why did it seem like Aizawa was being a little too vague about it? Was there something else Izuku didn’t want them to know?

He huffed to himself, settling in for the day’s lessons and trying not to think about it. So what if Izuku had been hit with some weird quirk? He didn’t care.

Or, at least, he wasn’t supposed to.

---

Over the next few days, the coughing only got worse. Izuku’s teachers had made him promise that he would try to resolve it on his own before they resorted to surgery, but Izuku had little to no intention of actually confessing to Katsuki. In fact, he started actively avoiding him because seeing him always made the thoughts worse, and the coughing right along with it. Of course, as the days went by, it started to seem that it didn’t even matter if Izuku never saw Katsuki again. The thoughts of Katsuki plagued him to no end, to the point that it was hard to sleep and night between the crying and the coughing. Every morning he woke up to a larger scattering of flowers and petals on his floor from when he leaned off his bed and choked them up all throughout the night, and every morning he swept them into the trash and tried to focus on the day’s work.

“Izuku, are you alright?” Uraraka asked one morning, a week after the coughing had begun.

“Huh?” he looked up from his desk, realizing he’d been completely zoned out. “O-oh, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look really tired. You know, if this flower-quirk is affecting your health so much, maybe it’d be best to just take a day off,” she suggested.

“No, I’m–” Izuku shook his head, but Iida cut him off.

“I think she’s right, Midoriya! You should take better care of yourself, otherwise your performance in school will suffer,” he said, arms chopping through the air in classic Iida fashion.

“Thanks Iida, but I’m doing fine, really. The coughing just makes it harder to sleep, but I actually like coming to class! It gives me something else to think about, and then the coughing doesn’t bother me as much,” Izuku explained, and his friends sighed.

“Well, okay. If you say so,” Uraraka shrugged, and headed back to her seat before the next lesson was to begin. Izuku turned back to face forward, and let out a startled gasp when he saw that Katsuki was turned around, staring at him scrutinizingly.

“Wha…” he started to say something, but it died in his throat when Katsuki clicked his tongue and turned back to face the board. Izuku gulped, doing his best to not to get too panicked and the thoughts returned to him in full force.

Katsuki doesn’t like me. Katsuki hates me. I’m going to choke and die on my love because Katsuki will never want me the way I want him.

“Alright! Who's ready for class?” Present Mic shouted as he marched to the front of the room, and Izuku said a little prayer that it was him teaching this period. Hearing his loud, obnoxious voice for an hour did wonders to keep the thoughts at bay.

Once the lesson was over and they were released for lunch, however, Izuku wasn’t so lucky. As he got up from his seat, he saw Katsuki looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and turned to meet his gaze without thinking about it. Katsuki’s red eyes narrowed, gaze piercing right through him, and Izuku felt his chest tighten with pain.

He’s never going to look at me with love in those eyes. He hates me. He probably wants me to die! He couldn’t help thinking, and then just as soon Katsuki was marching away without saying anything.

“We’re headed to lunch. Are you coming?” Uraraka asked, drawing him out of his daze, and he nodded, but he could feel the flowers rising in his throat. He grabbed his lunch and brought along his little personal trash can, following his friends out of the room with his feet dragging along the floor. His vision blurred with tears, not even hearing their conversation as they went, and he stifled a cough, throat tickling as the petals rose up and up. It felt like a lot, way more than usual, and fear mixed with the painful thoughts of desperation until it was too much as he started to cough for real.

“Izuku?” Uraraka turned around, and he shook his head, backing away.

“G-go on ahead. I’m not hungry,” he forced out the words before sprinting back down the hall the other way. As soon as he got around a corner in a secluded hall, he knelt down on the floor and hung his head over the trash can, retching like he really was going to puke. He couldn’t see from all the tears in his eyes, but he felt flower after flower cascade down into the bucket, scratching his throat on the way out. When they were finally all out, he panted for breath and slumped down to sitting, wiping at his eyes even as he continued to sob.

“Oh my gosh, Izuku,” Uraraka’s voice sounded from behind him, and he startled, trying somehow to make it look like he was okay, but then she was kneeling next to him with a hand on his shoulder and he knew it was a lost cause. “Is… is that blood?” she asked, and he blinked to clear his eyes, looking down into the bucket.

“No, they’re just red…” he was saying, when he trailed off, eyes widening in shock. Sprayed all over the white liner of the mini garbage can were bright red droplets. He gulped and tasted copper, confirming what he saw. “So it is…” he whispered, already too far gone to even be that concerned.

“Izuku, you need to go see Recovery Girl,” Uraraka said, trying to pull him up to his feet.

“She already knows,” Izuku said.

“About the blood?” Uraraka countered.

“...no,” he admitted, and let her pull him up.

“Please just go see her,” she begged, and Izuku just looked down at the flowers and blood dejectedly, thinking with far less panic than before that the flowers were sure to choke him to death any day now.

“Why?” Izuku whispered out the word.

“Because you're my friend and I care about you!” Uraraka said, and it brought Izuku back into the moment. What was he thinking? He could let this kill him, not when he had so many people continuing on him. He’d have to insist they give him the surgery, even if it would mean forgetting Katsuki.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he nodded, picking up his flower bucket and letting her walk him to the nurse’s office.

---

Izuku wasn’t there when Katsuki got back from lunch. What’s worse, all the nerd’s little friends were whispering all concerned, huddled around Uraraka’s desk. Katsuki grit his teeth, going back to his own seat and pretending like he was listening intently, trying to catch what they were saying.

“I just hope he’s okay,” Uraraka said, and that seemed to end the more detailed side of the conversation, their hushed whispering becoming just assurances of Izuku’s wellbeing. Katsuki clicked his tongue, wishing he’d gotten back sooner so he could have heard what was actually wrong with the nerd. Of course, it was pretty obvious that it had to do with the whole flower-coughing quirk thing, but he wanted more than just that.

Except he didn’t, he reminded himself. He didn’t care what happened to Izuku, that wasn’t his business. Unless, of course, it kept him from properly competing with him. If Izuku was sick and missed training, then any wins Katsuki got on him didn’t count. Right, that was why he cared about the nerd getting better. It was not that he liked him.

He couldn't.

He shouldn’t.

Sighing, he moved his thoughts away from that annoying topic and focused on his afternoon classes. Aizawa didn’t even acknowledge Izuku’s absence, though, so he got the feeling the teachers knew what was going on.

Well, good. That meant Izuku was probably getting a much-needed lesson on self-care and would be back in class tomorrow.

That’s what Katsuki told himself as he packed up his bookbag and got ready to leave, when Aizawa suddenly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the door as everyone else was leaving.

“Bakugou, you stay. I need to talk to you,” he said, and Bakugou’s heart jumped in his chest. Was it about Izuku? He didn’t do anything to him, and he certainly didn’t want to help! Or, well, no, it probably wasn’t about that, he reminded himself. He had nothing to do with it, and it was just his stupid brian always jumping to thinking about Izuku when he should be focused on himself.

“Well, what is it?” he asked once everyone else had left. Aizawa didn’t answer, but went and closed the door. Katsuki gulped then, his stomach sinking like a stone with the realization that whatever it was was serious.

“It’s about Midoriya,” Aizawa said, and Bakugou’s stupid heart started beaitng faster because of course it did.

“What about him? I don’t know what’s wrong with the nerd any better than anyone else,” Katsuki huffed, crossing his arms.

“No, I know,” Aizawa nodded. “But we need you to help him.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, looking away to try and hide the color on his cheeks.

“Why the hell would I do that!? It’s Deku’s problem, not mine,” he argued.

Aizawa sighed.

“Look. I should really let Midoriya explain himself, but you are connected to the quirk that’s affecting him, and you’re the only one that can stop it,” he said.

“What? Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me?” Katuski snapped, and then flushed with the realization that he made it sound like he cared. “I mean, why the hell would that be? I didn’t do anything to him.”

“Bakugou. If you don’t help him, the plants growing in his lungs could kill him, so could you put your pride aside for one second and listen?” his teacher retorted, and Katsuki froze. “Good. Now all you need to do is go in there and talk to him, and he’ll explain what needs to happen for the quirk to go away.”

“Okay…” Katsuki nodded slowly, and followed Aizawa to the door. When they got there, however, he put out his hand to stop him from opening the door and showed him concerned, vulnerable eyes. “Wait. Is he… is he really going to die if I can’t help him?”

“No, not necessarily. There’s a surgery that could get rid of it too, but it would have… unfortunate complications,” Aizawa said.

“Oh,” Katsuki said, and Aizawa finally opened the door, leading an uncharacteristically despondent Katsuki down the hall towards the nurse’s office.

---

Izuku shifted nervously in the bed, hands toying at the sheet pulled up over his legs as he tried to keep his breathing steady and not worry too much about how sticky his face was with drying tears. After Uraraka had brought him to the nurse’s office, Recovery Girl had him lie down and helped distract him to keep the flowers at bay. Eventually, All Might had come in and they stepped out of the room to discuss Izuku’s condition. When they came back, they told him they were going to bring Katsuki there after class and that Izuku had to tell him what was going on. He’d argued, of course, but they wouldn’t listen to him and All Might left to tell Aizawa so he could grab Katsuki once classes were over.

Izuku had cried for almost the entire hour while he was gone, pausing every now and again to cough up more flowers, but eventually he seemed to run out of tears, and once the bell rung, signaling the end of the school day, Izuku had just sat still and trembled with apprehension.

Finally, a knock came at the door, and Recovery Girl got up to open it. Izuku made a sad, almost whimpering sound as she walked by, and she paused, reaching over to put her hand on his.

“This is for your own good. Please be honest with him,” she said, giving his hand one last little pat before opening the door and stepping outside. Izuku was alone for only a brief moment before the door creaked open again and Katsuki slid hesitantly inside.

Izuku looked away, heart instantly squeezing with pain and torment just from looking at him. Why were they doing this to him? If he confessed, Katsuki would surely reject him, and then he’d die of heartbreak, flowers choking him to death in an instant. He just knew it.

“Oi, Deku. What the fuck is all this, huh? You look like shit,” Katsuki said.

“Sorry,” Izuku whispered, but it didn’t look like that was the answer Katuski was expecting, so he pouted and crossed his arms, walking around to come and stand at Izuku’s bedside.

“Well? What am I supposed to do? How’s this stupid quirk work?” he asked.

“Ah. They… didn’t tell you,” Izuku said.

“Tch, no,” Katuski looked away, annoyed. “Aizawa said it’d be better for you to explain.”

Izuku sighed, closing his eyes and nearly resigning to his fate. Katsuki stared at him, growing more impatient with each passing second, and finally snapped.

“What the fuck are you just sitting there for? Ugh!” he stomped his foot and gripped his own hair, nearly pulling it out. “Why won’t anyone just tell me something already? I’m supposed to fucking help you and I don’t even know how!”

“Kacchan,” Izuku looked up at him, brow furrowing in confusion. Through his anger, he almost seemed concerned – genuinely concerned for Izuku. That didn’t seem right.

“Just tell me what I have to do so we can get this over with! I’m tired of seeing your sorry ass hacking all over the place, and now you’re lying here like it’s your deathbed? What the fuck is up with that?” Katsuki continued his rant, and Izuku shuddered out a sob at the suggestion, his eyes filling with tears.

“Kacchan, you don’t understand,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, I don’t! That’s what I’m fucking saying! Now are you going to explain or–” he cut himself off when Izuku started to cough. “Shit, Deku?” he reached out a hesitant hand, Izuku folding forward as his chest shook, trying to get the flowers up and out of his throat.

“The bucket… the bucket, please,” he rasped out, reaching blindly towards the counter, and Katsuki quickly retrieved the basket Recovery Girl had left for him to cough into, pressing it into Izuku’s arms. Izuku held it in his lap and choked up more red anemones, the white rings around their fuzzy black centers nearly all red too, the petals covered in blood.

“Deku…?” Katsuki breathed out his name, and Izuku looked up when he’d gotten all the petals out, a string of bloody saliva connecting his lower lip to the rim of the bucket until it snapped when he turned to face Katsuki.

His face read nothing but pure horror, and then all at once it was like someone had thrown cold water on him and he scrambled to get Izuku a tissue, nearly tripping over his feet as he returned to his side.

“Shit, Deku,” he whispered as he wiped the bloody spit off of his chin for him, and then tossed the dirty tissue in the bucket before taking it and placing it back on the counter. “This is bad. This is really bad,” he said like he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“It’s okay… I can still get the surgery,” Izuku said, averting his eyes.

“What, why? If you just tell me what I need to do, I can do it and this all goes away, right?” Katsuki asked.

“Kacchan… I can’t,” Izuku shook his head. Katsuki was silent for a moment, and then he sighed, deep and angry and frustrated and sad all in one breath.

“Why?” he asked, voice broken, and when Izuku turned back to look at him, he was on the verge of tears. “Do you really hate me so much that you’d rather die than accept my help?”

“No, Kacchan, that’s not–” Izuku reached out to him, but Katsuki slapped his hand away.

“Don’t fucking lie to me! If you wanted my help you would have said so, right? You’ve known this whole time, haven’t you?” Katsuki asked, face contorting helplessly as he tried to hold back the tears already streaming down his cheeks.

“Yes, but–” Izuku tried again.

“Goddamnit, you fucking idiot!” Katsuki shouted over him, and Izuku shut his mouth, looking down into his lap dejectedly. “Just let me help you! Just tell me what I need to do, please! I don’t want you to die!” Katsuki grabbed the collar of his shirt and shook it, and Izuku met his watery eyes, searching for the feeling behind those words. It couldn’t be, could it?

“I won’t die… the surgery…” Izuku reminded him, but Katsuki shook his head.

“Aizawa said there’d be complications… I don’t want that, and you shouldn’t either,” Katsuki begged.

“Kacchan, do you even know what the complications are?” Izuku asked, and Katsuki shook his head.

“No,” he answered, and Izuku sighed, lifting up a weak hand to caress his tear-stained cheek.

“I’d forget you,” Izuku admitted, and then retracted his hand. “Maybe it’d be for the best.”

“What? No!” Katsuki yelped, grabbing his wrist before he could fully pull his hand away. “Why the hell would that happen? Deku, what the fuck is this quirk?”

Izuku gulped, too weak to fight him anymore.

“Kacchan… it’s not really flowers in my lungs. It’s love I’m drowning in: unrequited love,” he said, meeting his gaze and seeing the shock in Katsuki’s wide red eyes. “The only way to stop it is for my love to be returned, or to remove the plant and forget that love… that person altogether.”

“And I’m…” Katsuki whispered, not able to finish the thought.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I was too much of a coward to… well, it doesn’t matter now,” Izuku shook his head, his chest tightening with pain as the thoughts all screamed at him that it was coming: the rejection, the choking, the death.

“Well, that’s stupid,” Katsuki chuckled, and Izuku looked back up at him, brows bent in confusion. “It’s not unrequited if I like you back.”

“Yes, but–” Izuku started to argue, but then Katsuki had pulled him forward by his shirt and pressed their lips together.

“Mn!” Izuku started, hands gripping Katuski’s sides to find purchase, but then closed his eyes, lost in the soft feeling of Katsuki’s warm, wet lips pressing against his own. It was so, so nice, the feeling surrounding him, enveloping him, healing him. When Katsuki pulled away and Izuku gasped for air, he took his first unrestricted breath in a week.

His lungs were clear.

The flowers were gone.

“Kacchan, you…?” he questioned, looking up at Katsuki in awe.

“Of course I fucking do, you idiot,” Katsuki rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Not that I was ever gonna tell anyone about it, it’s fuckin’ embarrassing… but it’s better than you dying.”

“Kacchan, I wasn’t going to die,” Izuku insisted.

“Well, forgetting me isn’t exactly a good option either!” Katsuki argued, flicking Izuku in the forehead.

“Ow! Okay, I get it,” Izuku rubbed at the sore spot.

“I mean, how stupid can you get, honestly,” Katsuki huffed, turning away, but Izuku could see the redness on the tips of his ears, and he knew Katsuki was only hiding his face because he was embarrassed by his own blush.

“Pretty dumb, apparently,” Izuku chuckled, rolling the sheet off of his legs and scootching over to sit next to Katsuki. He hesitantly reached out to take his hand, and Katsuki made an obstinate grumbling noise even as he flipped it palm up to let Izuku intertwine their fingers.

“Hmm…” Izuku hummed happily, resting his head on Katsuki’s shoulders and closing his eyes.

“Oi, nerd! You better not be falling asleep on me!” Katuski snapped.

“Mmn, Kacchan! I haven’t had a full night's rest in five days! I didn’t sleep at all last night! Can’t I just close my eyes for ten minutes… right here…” he trailed off, nuzzling into Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Ugh, fine,” Katsuki scoffed, and then sat perfectly still and let Izuku nap on his shoulder.

He really did like him, didn’t he?

#bakudeku #katsudeku #izukatsu #my fic #twinstarsweek2020

310 notes · View notes