Stone↲
Jaymes Young
"So, give me all your pain, love will set you free. Give me all your shame, put all your weight on me . . ."
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You'd think standing in the rain—clothes pressing lithely against the skin, and socks soaked to the brim—that he would be rather upset. Infuriated, even. And yet Katsuki Bakugou was most likely the happiest man on Earth at the moment.
The second his childhood nickname scattered through the rain-beaten air his heart burst into flames. Perhaps it was the emotional cluster that had caverned its way into the depths of his chest, or maybe the significance Izuku's greeting had meant. Either way, the words touched Katsuki in a way he would never be able to describe.
Just hours ago he had given up hope. He had come to terms with his mistakes over the previous months—accepting that no matter what he tried Izuku may never listen to reason with him. And now? Now he suffocating with each pent up emotion he buried away. Torrents of his grief and euphoria danced hand-in-hand down the long path of his mind, unleashing through his veins with vehemence.
Because, damn it, Izuku remembered him. He remembered. That much was clear in the guilty and hurt expression painting the boy's face.
Katsuki printed his face to memory, savoring the moment until he could practically taste it on the tip of his tongue. This was yet another memorable moment within his lifetime: the day he realized Izuku remembered him. It was one he never wanted to dismiss.
Ineluctably, time sped up as Izuku began taking tentative steps towards him. Fingers half-curled and arms outstretched towards the other boy, ignoring the curtain of rain that blanketed over him. Katsuki held perfectly still—trying to wrap his head around the complex emotions and thoughts that flooded him. Was he dreaming? Had none of this actually occurred?
No, he brushed those thoughts aside, for the second Izuku's finger pressed softly against his own skin he was convinced: this was not a dream. The revelation only added to his exhilarate mood. A hum nestled through his throat as the warmth of Izuku's flesh contrasted against the cold rain. It took Katsuki a moment to see past the water gliding down Izuku's cheeks to realize that the boy was crying—another moment to realize he was too.
"I—how? You were . . . and then I . . ." Katsuki cursed himself at his lack of coherent words, not that Izuku seemed to mind. "How?" he finally breathed out, hoping the simple word was enough for the boy to grasp what he meant.
Izuku swallowed thickly, nipping his lip with Katsuki deftly pushed his wet curls from his eyes. "I was so . . . confused about everything, I wasn't sure what or who to believe. My head hurt like hell—literally—and I ran back to the penthouse . . . then I fell down the stairs—"
"You fell down the stairs?" Katsuki repeated, eyes wide with worry as he examined Izuku for any bruises or bumps.
"Why is everyone missing the point of this?" Izuku groaned exasperatedly before continuing. "It was because I fell down the stairs that I started remembering . . . I think. But I'm really sorry I ran away on you and didn't let you explain it was my fault—I should have listened to you and—"
The blond smiled tenderly at the boy pressing his forehead against Izuku's, inhaling the scent he harbored which only amplified from the rain. Too many emotions coursed through him, but for the first time in a long time . . . they had time to get it all out. Izuku—seemingly aware of what Katsuki wanted—angled his head to the side to lightly press his lips to the elder.
Fuck.
With a wide grin, Katsuki kissed back, ignoring the squishing of his socks, or how his hair matted against his eyes. No, all that mattered was Izuku. His hands roaming his shoulders, his lips on his, their breathing tangling. All he could feel was Izuku—his Izuku. They pulled back, just as he was about to kiss him again a sneeze broke through Izuku's lips.
"I think we should get out of this rain," he smiled sheepishly, cheeks already blooming roses. "Like . . . now,"
"Fine," Katsuki satirized with a grin, pulling out his phone to call a driver.
It didn't take long for a car to show up for them, as soon as the driver pulled up against the curb the two practically flew in. The car ride was long, for traffic had picked up with all the major roads beginning to be blocked off due to the weather picking up. But again, none of this mattered, for Katsuki was still the happiest man alive right now—with his fingers gripping tightly onto Izuku's hand. Pressing light kisses to the back of his palm every now and then.
He was still convinced he was dreaming.
Katsuki sighed as his phone began buzzing, glancing down to see the caller ID was his brother. "What do you want Shitty Hair?" he asked gruffly, wincing when Izuku slapped the back of his hand against his chest.
"So," the redhead drawled, "the gala is getting rescheduled for next week . . ."
"What happened?" Katsuki demanded, noting the unease in the boy's voice. "What the fuck did you guys do?"
"It wasn't what we did!" there was a long pause on the other end, followed by shouting. "It was what Monoma did, he picked a fight with Hitoshi. One thing led to another and a candle or two got knocked over—some shit caught on fire . . . But's all good over here! Besides, even if they hadn't been acting like idiots it would have gotten rescheduled anyway—the host was flying in today but his flight got canceled because of the weather."
With a blank expression shadowing over his face Katsuki shook his head, muttering a string of curses—all directed towards his purple-haired brother. Izuku, beneath his drowsiness, shot him a questioning look.
"What happened?" the freckled male mouthed, turning so his head was laying on Katsuki's chest.
The elder shook his head, carding his fingers through the boy's matted down curls.
"Anyway . . ." Kirishima cleared his throat, voice growing serious. "Todoroki told us about you and Zuku . . . did you find him? Is he okay? Does he remember?"
Katsuki smiled, for the hundredth time that hour. "One question at a time, asshole. Yeah—yeah, he remembers," looking down he grinned at the half-sleep Izuku, only for his smile to twist into a frown while he heard clattering on the other line.
It was silent for quite some time, only the faintest of sounds breaking through the receiver every now and then. That is until a laughing sob broke through—again, followed by shouting. But this time it was shouts of glee from Ashido in the background.
And it was then, at that moment that Katsuki knew everything was going to be okay.
—————❖—————
Izuku wasn't sure when it was he initially became aware of the warmth he was surrounded in. Perhaps it was when his mind had fallen into step with the melodic pitter-patter of the rain falling and dancing against the window, or when his body shifted from weight being added against the bed.
With a sigh, he allowed his exhausted mind to sway back and forth between consciousness. Unaware of his humming corresponding with the raindrops that acted as his lullaby—only to jump as another voice joined in the chorus. His limbs went slack with insouciance and ease, warming until he was a puddle of tranquility floating in a thoughtless abyss of comfort. Something he desperately needed after the constant revelation after revelation he had endured that day.
He was still . . . adjusting to it all. While he cared deeply for Katsuki—loved him—there was no denying the three years they had spent away from each other. There was no denying that a large rift had been constructed between them, and it would be tough to navigate their way back to how things used to be. If things could go back to how they used to be that is.
For they were older now. Both of them had endured quite a lot over the past three years, which will eventually play a big part in how they go about rekindling a relationship brought up by young teenage lust and love. Izuku knew this.
And yet as he laid there, head pressed softly against the strong rhythm of Katsuki's heartbeat—the boy's fingers looping and carding through his hair—he had not a care in the world.
"Either you're up or you smile like a fucking creep in your sleep,"
Izuku's grin, which he had not even noticed was present, grew wider at his words. Making a show of burying his face deeper into the warmth he radiated, a content sigh blowing past his lips sending goosebumps along the path of Katsuki's ribcage. They were both getting used to this again.
"Guess I'm a creep then," Izuku drawled, unaware of the effect he had on Katsuki as his dimples slowly dented his cheeks. "But you're even more of a creep for watching me sleep."
"Can't argue with facts, damn it," the elder jested, trailing his finger lazily up and down Izuku's back.
The sensation of warm clothing finally managed to bring Izuku up so he was resting on his knees, peering at Katsuki quizzically. He glanced down, taking notice of the plaid pajamas hanging loosely on his frame. But how did he . . . ?
"Did you change my clothes?"
Katsuki's mouth hung agape, grappling for words that never left his tongue as the warmth began painting his skin. "I didn't wanna wake you up. But if it makes you feel better I didn't look . . . too much," he hummed softly.
With a roll of his eyes, the freckled male happily nestled himself back onto Katsuki's chest, falling back into the comforting lull of the boy's fingers in his hair. And it was quiet yet again, both boys coming to an uncommunicated decision that they wished to spend as much time with each other as possible. For time—as they quickly learned—was a precious object, not to be treated lightly.
"How long have I been asleep?" Izuku asked, his hand placed firmly atop the other's chest.
"Almost thirteen hours now," he leaned over to check the time once more, "you know I forgot how much you fucking drool when you sleep."
"I did not drool on you!" Izuku protested, smacking Katsuki with a scoff.
With a raised brow Katsuki looks at the boy perceptively. "How would you know? Unless . . . you faked being asleep this entire time so you wouldn't have to do anything. I wouldn't hold it against you if you did,"
"No, I just know I don't drool, Kacchan." came the witty response.
A sharp breath pulled tightly between Katsuki's teeth at the nickname, for it always managed to bring a light trickle of tears to his eyes. It was amusing for him to think back on his childhood—how he hated said nickname with such a passion—yet now . . . he would have killed just to hear Izuku call him that one last time. Now, there was no need for murder for he got his wish.
Calculating green eyes flickered upwards to gaze at the blond with concern, the sight sending a swarm of butterflies to erupt through his stomach. Rendering him breathless and speechless. Damn it, he was so sure this was a dream. With an angel such as Izuku lying before him in all his perfection, allowing Katsuki to so gratefully bask in the light and glory he radiated, how could this not be a dream?
"What's wrong?"
Catching a piece of his hair between his fingers Katsuki shakes his head. "I just . . . fuck, it's been a really long time since I've heard that," he sighed wistfully.
It didn't take rocket science for Izuku to figure out what he meant, and for that smiled his typical dimpled winsome smile. By now both of their cheeks flamed red—burning from all the grinning and blushing they had done in the past hours.
"Speaking of a really long time—" Izuku shifted, hoisting himself up so he was straddling Katsuki's hips. "—we need to talk. You know . . . about a lot,"
Katsuki nodded his head absentmindedly, softly thumbing at Izuku's hip to calm his wildly beating heart. This was one of the hardest things he was about to do—because if he knew Izuku, and he did, he knew what one of the first questions would be.
"What happened after I . . . died?" the word felt wrong and twisted with apprehension as he spoke it.
What happened? Well, the answer to this question seemed simple enough, and yet . . . it wasn't. The boy had spent so long, night and day, for three years trying to repress what had happened; trying to quell the aftermath of the storm that brewed when his beloved was harshly ripped away from him. Now, after years of living with his isolation of . . . thoughts and emotions regarding Izuku and his 'death'—he had to relive it.
"I wasn't in a good place," Katsuki's eyes slipped close as Izuku softly ran his fingers along his cheekbone. "I pushed everyone away and was pretty much fucking isolated for a really long time. Aside from my music, I didn't do anything—I didn't go out or . . . enjoy all the things I used to. The only time I ever got out of the house was to . . ." he trailed off, feeling his grief bubble within his chest, gliding into his veins.
Izuku gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Take your time,"
Inhaling deeply the elder found himself succumbing to the soothing scent which wafted off Izuku's body, it calmed it. But in a sense, I also acted as a spark that aided him in reviving his more unpleasant memories of his beginning stages of grief.
"For the first few weeks, I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. Hell, I barely even talked . . . But what started giving me peace of mind is when I started visiting your grave, I talked to you—and I know it sounds stupid or crazy but I swear sometimes I heard you talk back,"
Taking the boy's face in between his own Izuku kissed his temple. "It's not stupid or crazy, Kacchan. It's how you processed . . . how you grieved. With that being said, I don't know how to . . . move on from here, you know? I mean we're older now, and we spent almost four years away from each other—not to my knowledge but you, I left you thinking I was dead!"
"There's not really a guidebook on what to do in this situation, huh?" Katsuki chuckled breathlessly, with Izuku tagging along. "But someone reminded me yesterday that . . . after everything we've been through—we owe it to ourselves to try, right?"
Pressing his lips into a thin line, holding back a smile, Izuku timorously climbed off the boy until he was standing upright on his bedside. Katsuki sat up, shooting him a questioning stare—receiving a small shake from Izuku's head in return.
"Katsuki Bakugou—" taking the boy's hands and dropping onto his knee Izuku flashes him another dimpled smile. "—will you do me the honor of taking me out on a date next . . . Friday?"
Pulling his mouth to the side, seemingly in deep thought, Katsuki taps his chin with a sigh. "I don't know, my ex-boyfriend who technically is supposed to be dead but is alive, won't like that too much,"
With narrowed eyes, Izuku lunges at the boy a high-pitched laugh spilling from his lips as he once again straddled the boy's hips. A taunting smirk gracing his soft features, slowly arching an eyebrow. Before Katsuki could question the meaning behind his sudden attack, Izuku leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"I won't tell him if you don't,"
With a devilish glint in his scarlet eyes, Katsuki presses his lips softly onto Izuku's. "Deal,"
Eventually, the two slipped back into the covers of Katsuki's bed—flipping through the channels that weren't affected by the weather shift and opted for having a movie night. It was a foreign channel, an old western American movie had come on along with the subtitles for them to read. Not that they minded. They had agreed to talk more about the previous years sporadically, knowing that it would gather too much strain on them both to unleash all the hurt and pain.
Going slow and steady never hurt once in a while.
Instead, they passed time by making light banter with one another, secretly ignoring the movie playing on the TV screen. Izuku's hand traced patterns along the red-eyed boy's bicep, every now and then he would pull out his sketchbook to take a quick sketch or doodle of Katsuki. That is until his mind drifted back to a previous conversation.
"Hey, Kacchan?" his pencil softly curved as he sketched Katsuki's lips. Katsuki grunted in response, knowing better than to move from his position. "Remember when you first kissed me?"
"Yeah, you were thirteen, right?"
Izuku briefly remembered the moment, still hazy and clouded over—yet he still recalled the feeling of Katsuki's soft lips against his own. "No," he blushed, "well, I mean yeah but that's not the first kiss I was referring to. I meant last week,"
Katsuki's eyes lit up with realization before relaxing back into his position. "Yeah, what about it?"
"If you're up for it . . . how about that nude drawing session?"
So, much for slow and steady.
Hello Cricket Cultists!!
*Le sigh* This chapter was short, only 2.9K, I've spoiled myself with writing 3K-4K and now I don't know what to do. But I thought I'd be nice and give you guys this. You deserve the fluff. With that being said . . .
NAKED DRAWING SESSION, WHO'S READY?
I'm like . . . hella excited to write the next chapter. You don't even understand.
Comments?
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Anything?
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!!!