MHA smut

Edges Aligned

Right. Right.

"Fuck," Katsuki says, scrubbing a hand back and forth over his eyes and then turning to face Izuku properly for the first time. "This is so fucking weird. It's trippy as hell being back here. You look so... small."

Izuku's kind of offended by that. Sure, he's still not exactly the most vertically gifted person in their class, but he's bulked out a lot over the past few years. Grown stronger, both physically and mentally, and yes, okay, this older version of Kacchan is taller and broader than the one he knows, with wide, sprawling shoulders and impressively large biceps that Izuku would love to run his hands over, but -

"Wait -" Katsuki's face twists into a sneer, and all of a sudden he looks a whole lot like Izuku's Kacchan after all. He takes two strides closer, eyes darting down to where Izuku's hands still lay hidden under the bedclothes. "Were you jerking off?"

"What?? No!"

Izuku's eyes widen in panic, voice a high pitched squeak (way to be cool, Izuku, damn it). But before he has the chance to react, Katsuki is reaching out to briskly yank the comforter off the bed, leaving Izuku totally exposed, the tent in his boxers betraying him.

And Katsuki laughs. Peering down at his boner with a mean glint in his eye. "Knew it, you little perv."

Shame floods through Izuku hot and quick, an old, dried out river springing back into life. His cheeks burn, and tears prickle the corners of his eyes.

His Kacchan hasn't made fun of him like this in ages. Not since before the war.

To be honest, nowadays, his Kacchan doesn't really look at Izuku at all, always averting his gaze before their eyes truly meet. But he hasn't said anything nasty to him either.

So now, hearing that jeering tone from older Katsuki hurts, but it's also weirdly comforting. A familiar pain; an old friend, in a way. A reminder of the Kacchan from before.

In the split second that Izuku is thinking all of this, older Katsuki's face changes right in front of him. The smile drops, replaced by a frown, and Izuku thinks he notices a hint of... concern in his eyes.

"Hey," he says, reaching out as if he's about to touch Izuku's face, hand dropping just shy of making contact and pulling the comforter back into place instead. "I was only kidding. I'm sorry, I know this must be fucking weird for you. I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I... I just forgot what it was like for you when we were younger. How bad it was."

"Oh." Izuku blinks up at him, taking the opportunity to swipe away his tears when Katsuki glances away. He's still burning with embarrassment, but if Izuku didn't know better, he'd think that Katsuki looks almost upset from the short exchange, and so he feels the immediate need to soothe. To make any jagged edges go away. "It's okay. It's - it's actually not too bad anymore. Things are, um, things are better, actually. Between me and Kacchan - I mean, me and you - I guess."

Shoulders tense, Katsuki makes a noise at the back of his throat, before his eyes return to Izuku's gaze, and his muscles finally go lax again.

"Mm," he grunts, placing hands on his knees and bending to sit at the foot of Izuku's bed with a world-weary sigh. Careful not to get too close. "He hasn't told you yet then, I guess?"

Izuku furrows his brow. "Told me what?"

A look shadows Katsuki's face. An expression Izuku doesn't recognise. Which is strange because he's studied Kacchan's face a million times before, noted the way his lip twitches when he thinks something is funny but refuses to laugh, the way his eyes flick to the side when he's nervous. But this look is unfamiliar. Undocumented.