If I Had One Wish

Chapter Fifty Nine

Chapter Fifty Nine - Tomorrow 

Lovely to sit between comfort and chaos

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Moments inside the Bakugou household frequented more after that, after longer periods without each other it seemed to have built up a craving to make up for lost time. When Izuku would return, they'd lock themselves away from Katsuki's parents for a few minutes before emerging suspiciously calmer. But it wasn't all just a flurry of kisses, the feeling of lips, it was far more intimate and soothing than that.

Sometimes he just wanted to lay there, on his bedroom floor, on their backs side by side with their arms brushing, fingers interlocked as they just breathed. Talked. Maybe the cat would crawl over them which would earn immature giggles as they went to play with her since Katsuki never got to spend time with Queenie while at the dorms and quite frankly he adored her.

Other times he wanted out of the house, so he let him pull him into the chilled air with the promise of a distraction; be it a cafe, the library, movies or something simple as dinner. One night, it had been to the arcade and that had been his favorite. Though, as he was hunched over the display, clicking buttons and winning at Street Fighter he missed the look of infatuation Izuku had given. The smile and the humored eyes, warm and bright as he watched Katsuki's elation to win. The brush of his fingers on his lower back when they left, protective over that smile. Izuku never did tell him, but he loved his smile. The rare, dazzling jewel it was.

Then there were fighting days, training with each other so he felt his strength cultivating. Those days where Izuku took every single hit into his hands when the punching bag wasn't enough and he wanted to be fought back with, blocking and sparring him until Katsuki's brain went blank for once and all he felt was the white hot burn of every inhale against his dry throat and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat to keep up with the blood pulsing through his veins, circulating into his heated head. On these days he felt like he tested Izuku patience, seeing his eyes get darker until the kind green was overrun with deep set diopside. But had he not been in that state of mind, Deku might have told him he was just worrying for him; Izuku could never admit that to the blonde when he was in this blind rage, burning steam. Couldn't tell him he wished to console him since he knew damn well the only way Bakugou felt better would be by expelling every angry cell from his body through his fists with every rough pound hurting and stinging himself in the process.

And, of course, there had been sadder days, where he just needed him to listen, but they were rare and few and far between since days where all he truly needed was Izuku to talk became the majority. About anything and everything, about UA, about his family, about what he missed, what he felt, anything would do; he especially liked when Izuku spoke of his interests. His eyes alight and hands gesturing around his head as if trying to paint this picture for Katsuki to experience, dragging him into the cavern of his brain and pointing things out.

This, this and this. He felt like Deku walked him through a museum everytime he did this, holding his hand so he didn't fall behind, pointing to the important pieces of the memory or thought; the colourful ones that held the most detail against the hazed background that accompanied them. And he loved it, drowning into the sea of emerald and flecks of gold as he lay there still, at the whim of Izuku's words and his own imagination.

This soothed the ache inside that was crying out to be felt, the impending doom of this very date.

It approached. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow it began. It pivoted, it suffocated, it rained down. And all Katsuki needed at that very moment was something to show he wasn't going insane, something to quiet that incessant trill in his brain to feel something other than the numbness of approaching doom. And maybe to others this was a dramatic way of thinking but his brain was desperate in its spiral of running in circles rampantly in his brain like a cyclist while his heart was heavy with the stagnant haze of everyday life and he needed something. Like a drug addict he needed his something to quell and erase everything else no matter how unhealthy.