Learning to breathe again

This one is a commission for Mere based on this thread!

─────

Izuku's eyes were downcast when he stepped into the classroom, watching his own feet as he shuffled toward his desk. It had become more and more of a familiar sight, and for some reason it made Katsuki's stomach clench. He was so used to the nerd being stubborn and wilful, it felt so wrong seeing him trudge in, all withdrawn and shaky. Not to mention the red tint to his eyes, the swollen lids that rimmed them, and the remnants of tears scrubbed away by rough school-bathroom toilet paper, hidden in a stall where he could stifle the endless sobs undisturbed.

He was still a little sniffly even when he returned, hiccuping every so often as he scuttled down the aisle between desks, doing his best to not draw attention to himself.

He hadn't been so bad, back in elementary school. Hadn't been so beaten down.

Katsuki supposed a lot of that was his fault.

He knew for a fact that the nerd had been up all night studying for the damn test, which wasn't even worth anything, and yet he still found a way to be stressed and distraught at the prospect of it drawing near. It wasn't even an exam, just some stupid in-class thing they had to do once a month, and yet here he was, freaking out like it was the most important test in the world.

He supposed it made sense, when he thought about it properly. It wasn't normal, and it wasn't sensible, but it did kind of fit the narrative Katsuki had been watching him go through for the past few years. He'd seen countless conversations where Izuku just refused to make eye contact, his eyes locked on his shoes like they were the most fascinating thing in the world; he'd listened to a thousand conversations where Izuku spoke so fast and in such a mumble that people couldn't even understand him; and he'd seen at least a handful of times that the teachers had sent him home early because he was “sick”, when he put his head in his hands or laid it on his desk and just sat frozen and silent, not even moving when the bell rang and everyone else abandoned their seats.

When the teachers said he was sick, Katsuki knew they didn't all mean the same thing. If it happened once, or twice, they just thought he wasn't feeling well and needed to go home and rest. When it happened more frequently, like with their homeroom teacher, there was a hint of a sneer in the tone, almost like it made them sick to think about it. He wasn't just sick, he was sick.

And then there were the kids, their classmates – half of them thought he was faking it, like there was something to be gained from acting like a nutcase and making everyone pick on him for being different. Idiots never seemed to stop for half a second and consider what he had to gain from it all, especially compared to how much he had to lose.

The other half just called him weird. Those moments were the ones that frustrated Katsuki the most.

Partly because he knew they were right. The nerd was weird as hell, he'd always been weird as hell, but that was just Deku. Katsuki knew him better than anyone, better than his own mother did, even though she'd probably deny it. He knew Deku inside and out, and as much as he hated to say it, he understood what was going on in that dumb little brain when it stopped working properly.

It had only taken a few days for them to meet in the streets as they walked home, after Katsuki's group of friends had parted ways and it was just him heading into his neighbourhood, a familiar set of footsteps trailing a few metres behind. A small part of him expected Izuku to make the first move, to lift his pace and fall into step at Katsuki’s side, ready to chat about school and heroes and other inane things.

He hadn’t made that first move in a long time, though. Katsuki hated the thought of doing it himself, of being the one to extend a hand, but he supposed it was the only option he had left.

“What did they say?” he asked, pausing to wait for the nerd to catch up.

“W-What did who s-say, K-Kacchan?”

“Don't pull that shit. If you don't want to tell me, just say so, nerd. I don’t want all this fake bullshit from you.”

“N-No, it's not that, I just...”

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder, but when he saw the nervous look in Izuku's eyes, he turned away again.

“My Mom can't afford the medication,” he said softly, surprisingly calm considering his twitching and mumbling the entire way home so far. “I just need to find ways to cope, instead. With the... Anxiety.”

When he heard the sniffling, Katsuki turned around again, reaching for Izuku's arm. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, when he took a gentle grip on Izuku's sleeve, but the nerd allowed it. He let himself be led, putting a trust in Katsuki that he knew he didn’t deserve, dragged over to a little bench beside the park where they'd played as children, before things got so messed up in both of their heads.

“It's okay,” he said quietly, peeling off his school jacket and wrapping it around Izuku's trembling shoulders. “I uh, I'm here? I'm here. With you. You can, um, cry or whatever. It's fine.”

“I missed you,” Izuku sobbed, turning his head to bawl into Katsuki's shoulder, soaking through his shirt in record time. “I missed Kacchan.”

“I'm here,” Katsuki said again, reaching an awkward hand to stroke at Izuku's back, holding him a little tighter against his side. “Kacchan is here.”

─────

Katsuki’s friends didn’t seem to know what to make of it, when he laid such a gentle hand on Izuku’s shoulder. They’d only ever seen him be rough, shoving the nerd around or calling him names, never the strange tenderness that had suddenly come over him. Izuku turned his head slightly in response, the first movement they’d seen in hours, and Katsuki just looked down at him impassively.

“Is Midoriya sick again?” the teacher sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “You can go to the nurse, Midoriya.”

“He’s fine,” Katsuki growled, eyebrows knitting together as he crouched down. “Hey, look at me.”

Green eyes raised slowly to meet his gaze, strangely dull and lifeless compared to the bright, shining emerald Katsuki was so used to.

“It’s okay,” Katsuki said quietly, ignoring the murmur of confusion that spread through the class. “I’m here, Deku.”

The bell rang for class to end, but no one moved an inch – it was almost as if the bell had never even existed, with how little anyone reacted to it. Katsuki just stayed there for a minute, his hand warm against Izuku’s arm, and slowly the nerd began to blink up at him.

“Stay with me,” Katsuki whispered, for Izuku’s ears only. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Izuku nodded faintly, the barest twitch of a movement, but the tension softened out of Katsuki’s shoulders when he saw it.

“Class dismissed,” their teacher choked out finally, coming to his senses. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Slowly people began to trickle from the room, one by one, then in twos or threes, until only Katsuki, Izuku, and the extras who called themselves Katsuki’s “friends” remained behind. No one dared to say anything, watching as Katsuki comforted his old friend with his touch and his soft words, until finally Katsuki shot a glare their direction.

“Get out,” he hissed. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

“What’s gotten into you?” someone dared to ask, getting concerned looks from his friends around him. “You get hit by a quirk or something, Katsuki?”

“Piss off, can’t you see I’m busy?”

Amidst stares that were torn between disbelief and hints of concern, Katsuki pulled Izuku out of his chair, gently tucking the nerd’s skinny body into his lap. He wrapped an arm around him, pulling him to his chest, and when the extras finally began to leave, he laid his cheek on Izuku’s hair.

“I’ve got you,” Katsuki assured him. “You’re okay, I’ll take good care of you.”

A little sniffle slipped out of the shuddering frame, and Katsuki ran a hand slowly up and down the nerd’s spine, nodding faintly against the messy curls.

“It’s okay, do what you need to do.”

The first sob forced its way out, such a valiant effort made to hold it back, but to no avail. Tears fell down Izuku’s cheeks, ever the crybaby, but Katsuki just held him still.

“Kacchan is here,” he mumbled, cheeks burning red. “Kacchan will take care of you.”

He knew it was working when Izuku leaned into him a little more, sniffling as he nestled in against Katsuki’s chest.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, eyes falling closed with tears clinging to his lashes. “They’re all gonna…”

“I don’t give a shit what those extras think,” Katsuki huffed, hugging the soggy lump a little tighter. “None of that shit is gonna matter when I’m the best hero ever and they’re working in some shitty convenience store.”

“Kacchan is so nice,” Izuku sighed, relaxing a little with the warm arms surrounding him. “When he wants to be.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbled. “Don’t ruin it, nerd.”

“Thank you for helping me, Kacchan. You’re already the best hero.”

“Damn right I am.”

He cracked a smile when Izuku looked up at him, one hand shifting to ruffle his hair lightly and watch it pop back up around his fingers.

“I’ll always be here,” Katsuki assured him. “I know I’m a dick, but I’m still here.”

“But you hate me,” Izuku pouted, fingers tangling in Katsuki’s damp school shirt.

“Only ninety-nine percent of the time,” Katsuki snorted, turning his head away to avoid Izuku’s pout. “I guess that means one percent of the time I don’t mind you, huh?”

“I’m glad. Even if it’s only one percent.”

Deep down, Katsuki wondered if his math truly checked out. After all, if ninety-nine percent was hatred, it would kind of make sense for the other one percent to be something closer to love.

─────

Katsuki was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. He’d kept his promise all the way through middle school – no matter how much he teased or belittled the nerd in his off-time, the moment those eyes began to glaze over, or his shoulders began to hunch and tremble, Katsuki was there to take care of him. He still got weird looks from classmates and teachers, but that didn’t stop him from sitting the nerd in his lap as they worked, petting his hair or stroking his back, whispering reassurances that came a lot more naturally over time.

He still did all his work, even if it occasionally meant taking notes with one hand while the other held Izuku to his chest, or resting his chin on Izuku’s head to watch the board. As much as it was weird and unusual, it was never disruptive, and their teachers gave up on finding fault with the actions. It kept Katsuki quiet, and it kept Izuku in school, his grades shooting up from where he’d been slowly failing to near the top of the class.

He’d gotten so used to protecting Izuku, so used to being his hero, that when the time came for their roles to reverse, he didn’t know how to handle it. When the sludgy blob wrapped itself around him, choking him, smothering him, he’d never felt so weak in his life. He fought back with everything he had, firing explosions left and right, trying desperately to get even one hand up high enough to tear the slime off his face.

He needed to breathe. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs weren’t working and he could feel his heart racing, his vision blurring, his chest heaving with the effort it took to get even a tiny ounce of oxygen into his body.

When he saw Izuku’s face in the crowd, his world fell still. What good was he as a hero if he couldn’t get away from one villain? How was he supposed to protect anyone else if he couldn’t even protect himself? All those words that had fallen from Izuku’s lips, the “amazing”s and “hero”s, all gone to waste because of one dumb move.

Don’t look, Deku. Don’t watch.

When Izuku moved, he wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at him for being such an idiot, who the hell just threw their life away for him? Of all people, the one who had teased and tormented, the one who had given him stupid derogatory nicknames, the one who had sat back and let the class pick on him, even after the anxiety had started.

Don’t do it, Deku.

Air flooded into his lungs as he fell to the ground, and the world blurred. Familiar voices yelled around him, unfamiliar ones screamed, but all Katsuki could do was watch blurs of colour as he sucked air in and let it back out again, in and out, in and out. He’d said those words so many times, with Izuku held in his arms, but they’d never mattered more to him than the moment they returned to his life.

In and out.

After that day, Katsuki kept to himself. He withdrew from the extras who showed such annoying concern for him, he yelled at the ones who dared to tease him about it, and Izuku…

He couldn’t even face him, after that shameful display. So weak and pathetic, so helpless, saved by a useless, quirkless-

No, it was All Might who saved him, he had to remember that. It was nothing to do with the dumb nerd, it was the number one hero who saved him. If he was going to be saved by anyone, that seemed like the least pitiful option.

Izuku kept to himself too, after that day, but he sat straighter in his chair, always muttering about something – like the old days, Katsuki couldn’t help but think. He was back to his usual self, back to the kid he’d been before that stupid anxiety took over his life.

Maybe Inko had managed to get meds for him, that would explain a lot. It was the only logical explanation for it, really.

The only explanation for why, suddenly, Izuku didn’t need him anymore.

─────

Katsuki was never late for class – screw anyone who tried to tell you otherwise. Sure, he occasionally came close, but he was never late.

One of those close mornings, though, turned quickly into the kind of day he’d almost forgotten.

Izuku was still a crybaby, that was no secret to anyone. At this point, Katsuki just assumed he’d never grow out of it. He still got anxious on occasion, too, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as their younger days. Between All Might playing favourites with him, and all the shitty extras who surrounded him, he almost seemed like a normal teenager. Almost.

On the days where the mumbling began, his shoulders hunching over his desk as he withdrew, Katsuki’s stomach tied itself into knots. Despite being bigger in every way – taller, bulkier, stronger – Izuku still had those same anxious habits. Bouncing his leg, fidgeting in his seat, and of course, that damn mumbling. Katsuki knew he sounded like an ass every time he told Izuku to cut it out, but he also recognised that little snap in Izuku’s expression, as he came quickly back to Earth.

It made his chest squeeze when he saw the nerd cry, but he also saw the crowd of friends who immediately surrounded him, coaxing back his familiar smile and the sheepish laughter.

He had new friends, new protectors. Katsuki was no longer the one he turned to.

He hated himself for how sick that made him feel, no matter how many times he saw it happen.

What he hadn’t seen before, was the crowd of classmates surrounding his desk. That one was new, when he walked into the classroom, glancing at his phone to make sure he wasn’t late. He’d certainly seen little clusters of his friends, but Katsuki suspected he had everyone in his cluster that day. He wondered what the hell the nerd was playing at, especially so close to the bell time.

“Oi, Deku!” he began in a growl, storming toward his blocked-off desk. “What the fuck do you think you’re-”

He froze when Kirishima glared back at him, a surprisingly stern look from his normally sunny friend.

“Not now, Bakugou,” he insisted. “Something is wrong with-”

Katsuki didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, his world falling silent when he saw that familiar expression. Izuku’s glazed eyes stared blankly at his desk, though Katsuki knew he wasn’t actually seeing it. His fingers were laced together in front of him, knuckles white with how tightly he squeezed at his own hands, fingernails digging little half-moons into his skin.

Shoving the extras aside, not even hearing their protests and lectures, he stormed over to the nerd’s desk. He vaguely recognised annoyed voices around him, even a warning or two from the more familiar of the group, probably telling him to fuck off and leave Izuku alone.

That was certainly what he deserved, he couldn’t really blame them.

With every eye locked on him, watching his every move, Katsuki reached out. He slid an arm under Izuku’s thighs, wrapped the other around his waist, and then he was sliding into the nerd’s seat, pulling him into his lap.

Izuku was a lot heavier than the last time Katsuki had held him, a lot bulkier and harder to wrap his arms around. He couldn’t quite seem to nestle Izuku’s head into his chest like he used to, but all the same, he held the nerd in his lap.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, the classroom falling silent around him. “Your Kacchan is here now, I’ve got you.”

“Bakugou, what-”

“Shh,” Uraraka cut the question off in a hurry. “Bakugou, has this happened before?”

Katsuki heard the question, registered it even, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to answer, so he just… Didn’t.

Instead, he moved a hand to Izuku’s hair, cracking the tiniest smile at how soft it felt under his touch. It had been a long time, he’d almost forgotten.

“Everything is okay now,” he assured him. “Your Kacchan will protect you, you know that. I always protect you.”

Whispers flooded through the crowd when Izuku shifted a little, moving for the first time all morning as he curled into Katsuki’s touch. He laid his head on Katsuki’s shoulder, softening just a little, and Katsuki leaned his chin on Izuku’s hair.

“That’s right, good nerd,” he praised. “In and out, remember?”

Izuku took a deep breath, his chest swelling, and Katsuki nodded.

“That’s the way.”

When the bell rang, Katsuki found himself jolted out of his own little world, looking up to see every emotion under the sun staring him down from his classmates’ faces. From concern, to amazement, to even fear, they all watched on, but thankfully they had the sense to look sheepish when he caught them staring.

“We’re gonna move to my seat, Deku,” Katsuki sighed, picking him up again effortlessly. “We write our notes the same way anyway, I’ve got you covered today.”

When Izuku nuzzled into his neck, Katsuki felt the warmth of tears finally escaping from stubborn eyes, damp and slightly sticky against his skin. In a weird way, it was kind of nice. Nostalgic. A reminder that once upon a time, he was Izuku’s hero.

Maybe one day he could be again.

Aizawa froze when he stepped into the room and saw them snuggled together, but the looks he got from his students kept his mouth firmly shut. Even Iida gave him a stern look, shaking his head pointedly, so Aizawa kept his eyes away from the confusing pair.

Satisfied, Katsuki dipped his head, planting a tiny kiss on Izuku’s curls as he hugged a little tighter.

“Your only job today is to breathe,” he whispered. “I want to feel it, in and out, nice and steady.”

Izuku nodded, his eyes firmly closed, and Katsuki freed one hand to reach for his textbooks. It was gonna be a long morning, that was for sure, but he couldn’t find it in him to dread it – if anything, it made him just a tiny bit happy. His chest was still tight at the thought of Izuku being stressed out and panicking, his stomach still knotted itself into a tight little ball at the thought of Izuku’s tears, but knowing he still had it in him to help, that the nerd would still let him help, made him feel a little bit better about himself.

He was still a hero.

────

By the time they reached their final year of high school, the class had grown used to the sight of Izuku and Katsuki snuggled together. What had started as a rare moment in class during Izuku’s most anxious moments had quickly morphed into something that even their middle school selves wouldn’t have recognised.

After Katsuki’s kidnapping, Izuku’s anxiety had skyrocketted – and honestly, so had Katsuki’s. He’d never had to say it out loud, Izuku had figured it out from the way he acted, the way he closed himself off for a while, but soon they were back together and stronger than ever. Katsuki was still Izuku’s hero, Izuku made sure to tell him that whenever it seemed appropriate, but maybe… Maybe Izuku had become a hero, too. Not just for the kids he’d saved, not because of the villains he’d defeated, but…

Well, Katsuki didn’t need to say it. The nerd knew.

There was no hesitation anymore, about their moments of affection. It would have been silly to hide them, when the class had already seen them at their lowest points. Now they touched more freely, shared little smiles when they thought no one else was looking, even hugged when something particularly good happened. Izuku wasn’t shy about affection with any of his friends, but everyone knew that it was different with Katsuki. With his Kacchan.

Katsuki was the only one who could sneak up and grab him in a headlock unannounced, planting a kiss on the top of his head and getting bright smiles in return.

Katsuki was the only one who could show up at his door and crawl into bed with him, lying together as they quietly reminisced about their childhood together, staring at the dark ceiling with unspoken words hanging between them.

And Izuku was the only one who could walk up to Katsuki without saying a word, nudging himself in under a strong arm, and be welcomed into Katsuki’s grip with no hesitation.

So when their final year came around, and Katsuki found himself sitting in the library with his idiot friends who desperately needed his help to study for exams, the question didn’t really come as a surprise.

“Are you two, like, dating? Or what?”

“Why do you ask?” he answered, unphased, flipping at a page in his textbook.

“I mean, he’s the only one you accept any affection from, and you accept a lot of it?”

“Known him my whole life, is that so weird?”

“Well… Not for most people, I guess? But for you? Kinda.”

Katsuki shrugged, finally lifting his gaze to meet determination and curiosity from Kirishima and Kaminari alike.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“You don’t know if he’s your boyfriend?”

“Does it matter?” he pushed, dropping his gaze back to his work. “We are what we are. He needs my affection or whatever, when he gets anxious and shit.”

“But even when he’s fine you’re still all over each other.”

“Maybe it helps him stay fine.”

“Do you like him?”

Katsuki paused at that one, suddenly fascinated by the pen in his hand, and a smile crept across Kaminari’s face.

“Speak of the devil!” he said brightly, raising one arm in an excited wave. “Hey, Midoriya! Come to join us?”

Familiar footsteps approached Katsuki from behind, and then warm arms were draping over his shoulders, wrapping him in a slightly awkward hug.

“Hi Kacchan,” he grinned, pressing their cheeks together.

Stubble, nerd hadn’t bothered shaving. Again.

“Hey nerd,” he grunted, pulling away from the scratchy jaw. “How’d you know where to find us?”

“Actually I’m meeting Iida and Todoroki,” he laughed. “Finding you was just a bonus!”

“Hey Midoriya,” Kaminari piped up again, ignoring the warning look he got from Katsuki. “You two sure are cuddly, huh? How long have you been dating?”

“Huh?” Izuku tilted his head slightly, contemplative. “Are we dating?”

“You’re not?”

“Hmm… Maybe? Dunno.”

Katsuki cracked a smile at that, only widening when his friends sighed their defeat.

“Does it matter?” Izuku continued, rubbing his face on Katsuki’s again despite his squirming. “We are what we are, right, Kacchan?”

“We ain’t gonna be shit if you keep rubbing your damn stubble on me. Go shave, you damn heathen!”

Izuku’s laugh was like christmas bells – annoying by the end of the season, but sweet and bright when they were a little more rare.

“Oh, there’s Iida! I’d better go. Kiss?”

Katsuki turned his head, planting one obediently on Izuku’s cheek, face scrunching up when Izuku returned the gesture happily.

As he walked away, Kirishima lost a little snort, unable to contain himself any longer.

“Dude, you’re absolutely dating,” he laughed. “I’m glad you’re happy, man.”

Katsuki shrugged, a smile toying at his lips all the same.

“Maybe we are."