izuku thought dating kacchan would be, essentially, a minor step up from how they were already: each other’s closest person, best friends. maybe more handholding and displays of affection.
he did not foresee all the little things that came with it, which crept up on him and burrowed themselves into the crevices in his heart, so much so that on weeks kacchan had away missions, he felt their absence like missing a step on the stairs.
kacchan had an away mission now, his second since they started dating, and he was quite busy doing classified hero work in seoul. so izuku had a lot of time to be painfully reminded of all the ways kacchan had accidentally bolstered what he was used to in his daily life.
like the certainty in knowing when he sat on the couch, there would be a large, warm arm draped behind him. always a space left next to kacchan shaped like izuku.
how every name kacchan called sounded like ‘i love you’, whether it was nerd or baby or freckles or dumbass. or deku.
when his fans or uraraka called him deku, it never sounded quite the same.
like the assurance if he called, kacchan would answer. if he needed help, kacchan would come. this he did before, too, but there was a layer to it now there hadn’t been before, one that tasted like trust and looked a lot like love. like the decision was thoughtless, obvious.
izuku had started taking for granted kacchan’s body next to his, almost always. these past days he kept turning to his left instinctively, mouth half open, about to voice his thoughts, only to be met with empty space. he’d frown n thumb his phone, pulling it out to text kacchan.
(kacchan stood on his left more often than not. he liked to have his good eye facing their environment so he could stay alert. izuku considered how this meant he trusted izuku to cover his other side, to take care of his other side, + carefully tucked this information safely into
his heart to be brought out and cradled on nights he was alone. nights like this one, actually. izuku let himself think about how kacchan trusted him so implicitly, so quietly loud, and wanted to scream from some unnamable emotion. unnamed, but something whole and good and pure.)
izuku missed the notes kacchan would slip into his lunch when it was his turn to make it. he hated washing the dishes and having to dry them, too. pulling out the step stool to reach their higher shelves.
the bed was too big. too cold.
suffice it to say that by the end of dynamight’s mission, izuku was spending every day in a dreadful mood. they’d been apart before, but that was before they’d trickled into every single aspect of each other’s lives. he missed his kacchan.
the day kacchan was set to return, izuku was beside himself with yearning. he practically vibrated in his house slippers, deep cleaning the bathroom to have something to do. the agency would be driving kacchan home in three hours; he was supposed to text izuku once his plane
landed. kacchan probably thought it was for normal, sane reasons, but izuku had actually requested that so that he had time to fix himself up and look less crazed. and depressing. he squinted at his limp curls in the mirror. it had been a long week.
finished scrubbing the tile, izuku cleaned up, putting the supplies away and leaving the fan on to air out the chemical smell. he was drying his hands when the very familiar sound of keys jingling in their lock rang through the silent apartment like a gunshot.
“What the fuck…” izuku mumbled to himself (kacchan was proud of his influence). he slipped off his house slippers, padding to the door, a creeping hope hesitantly lighting up the blood in his veins like one for all.
izuku reached the door just as it opened. his heart leapt at the beloved sight of his boyfriend, which lasted a spilt second before his vision was abruptly obstructed by fabric, his face immediately shoved into a warm, muscled chest.
“Mmmf- faffan!” izuku cried out joyously,
muffled by kacchan’s soft black t-shirt. he hasn’t even been able to take a good look at his face before kacchan had practically pounced on him, wrapping him up tightly.
“God, I missed you,” kacchan said, mouth buried in his curls by his ears, back bent so he could envelop
izuku that much more completely.
“Everything’s different without you. It’s shit.”
was kacchan pouting? izuku giggled, even as he tightened his arms wound around kacchan’s shoulders.
“Weird shit, like fucking… mealtimes. Or walking. What the fuck have you done to me.”
izuku giggled, even as he held kacchan back just as tightly, even as his heart soared and laughed and cried at kacchan feeling his absence just as much. he was smiling so hard. oh, he was crying.
kacchan must have felt the dampness soaking his shirt, because he pulled back, a devastatingly fond look on his face.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked affectionately, cupping izuku’s face as he started to sob.
“I just missed Kacchan so much,” izuku managed through wracking heaves, all the emotion of the last week and five minutes catching up to him. kacchan looked down at him with heartbreaking affection. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
“I’m home,” kacchan confirmed, bringing his head
back into his chest gently, cradling it even, with his other hand rubbing up and down soothingly down izuku’s back. this made izuku cry more — he had missed kacchan’s hugs, kacchan’s comfort, so much. he was so, so happy right now, to be back in his kacchan’s arms.
kacchan walked them over to the couch, still holding izuku, and got them settled, sinking into the cushions with izuku on his lap. izuku burrowed in stubbornly, wishing he could go further, make a little home behind kacchan’s third and fourth rib. kacchan murmured to him
soothingly, flicking the nature channel on in the background. kacchan always knew what to do. kacchan was home. he lifted his head, tired of crying, and nuzzled into kacchan’s face. “Let’s take a bath,” izuku said, noting how tired he looked.
“You can tell me about the mission after we sleep.”
they shuffled to the bath. kacchan used the shampoo sitting next to izuku’s, his fluffy grey towel on the stand. his orange toothbrush. kacchan climbed into his side of the bed, its size finally back to normal. he spooned izuku
from behind, and izuku finally felt truly warm, the comfort bone-deep, for the first time in a week. kacchan was out like a light, allowing izuku to turn in his hold and carry out his favourite activity of tracing kacchan’s features while he slept.
he could turn back around when he was finished and be held back-to-chest again. in the morning, they’d make breakfast and catch up and make the bed. kacchan was home. he smiled.
izuku would never be lost, because kacchan was home.