Catch Your Breath (BAKUDEKU)

11

The next afternoon, the living room was transformed into an impromptu workspace. Papers were strewn across the coffee table, sketchbooks scattered haphazardly, and Kirishima lay on the floor surrounded by colored markers. Katsuki sat across from him, concentrating on the blueprints spread out before them. They were working on a collaborative photography project for Kirishima's architecture class, capturing the beauty of decaying buildings in their district. Normally, Katsuki would have been excited by such a challenge, but his mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Izuku the night before. Guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus.

"Bakugou!" Kirishima's voice snapped Katsuki back to reality. "What do you think about this angle?" He held up a rough sketch of an abandoned factory, its dilapidated structure juxtaposed against vibrant graffiti. Katsuki forced a smile, appreciating the distraction Kirishima provided.

"Looks good," he said, genuine enthusiasm seeping into his voice as he examined the details. "We could capture the contrast of decay and rebirth perfectly there."

"Yeah?" Kirishima's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Definitely," Katsuki nodded, pointing at a spot on the sketch. "If we position the model here, with the setting sun behind her...the light will cast an amazing shadow play on the background."

They continued discussing angles and lighting arrangements, lost in their creative banter. The tension slowly dissipated from Katsuki's shoulders as they worked. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Denki sprawled on the couch, half-asleep with headphones in and a sketchbook forgotten on his lap. Denki's peaceful expression was a stark contrast to the storm inside Katsuki.

Shaking his head, Katsuki refocused on Kirishima, who was rambling animatedly about potential outfits for the model. "What do you think about something flowy? Like a red dress against all that concrete?" Kirishima asked, gesturing grandly with his marker.

Katsuki hummed thoughtfully, his mind painting the image vividly. "Might work. But let's keep options open until we scout the location tomorrow."

Kirishima nodded enthusiastically, scribbling notes in his notebook. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of ideas and laughter. It felt almost normal—a welcome respite from the suffocating weight of secrets and promises Katsuki carried alone. But as the sun dipped lower, casting warm hues across their messy sanctuary, Katsuki couldn't ignore the knot tightening in his stomach.

When Kirishima packed up his belongings, exhaustion etched into his features, Katsuki stood up stiffly. "Thanks for today, Bakugo." Kirishima clapped him on the shoulder before heading out the door, unaware of the storm brewing inside Katsuki.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Katsuki turned to Denki, who had removed his headphones and was watching him with concern. "Hey, man... everything okay?" Denki's voice sliced through the silence, opening the dam holding back Katsuki's worries.

Katsuki sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "It's...complicated."

"You know, if you want to talk..." Denki trailed off hesitantly.

Katsuki met his gaze, considering the offer. But no, this burden belonged to him alone. Smiling weakly, he shook his head. "Thanks, Denki. But it's something I have to handle."

Denki narrowed his eyes but nodded, understanding flickering in his gaze. "Alright, man. But remember, you're not really alone, okay?"

With a small wave, Denki gathered his sketchbook and headphones, disappearing into the hallway. Katsuki stood there, feeling more isolated than ever. Alone with his thoughts again, he sagged against the wall, exhaustion seeping into his bones.

A soft rustling drew his attention to the bedroom doorway, where Izuku stood, watching him with a mixture of concern and relief. He must have heard their conversation. Swallowing the guilt, Katsuki straightened up, plastering on a mask of nonchalance.

"Kacchan," Izuku called softly, his voice soothing Katsuki's frayed nerves.

Crossing the room in three strides, Katsuki wrapped his arms around Izuku's waist, burying his face into his warmth. "I'm sorry," he mumbled into Izuku's chest, the apology feeling insufficient against the weight of his actions.

Izuku's arms wrapped around him hesitantly, holding him close as if afraid he'd vanish if he held too tight. "It's okay," he murmured comfortingly, "I trust you."

Izuku's words were a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty, anchoring Katsuki to the present. He held Izuku tighter, breathing in his comforting scent. For tonight, he took a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt. Izuku trusted him—trusted him enough to handle this monster alone. He couldn't let him down again.

With renewed determination, Katsuki pulled away slightly, meeting Izuku's worried gaze. "Let's get some rest," he suggested gruffly, gesturing toward their messy bedroom.

Izuku nodded silently, exhaustion evident in his drooping shoulders and red-rimmed eyes. As they cleaned up their makeshift studio, Katsuki's mind raced through possible solutions to keep Izuku safe without involving the police. He couldn't shake the feeling of impending danger.

Once the living room was back to its usual state, Katsuki led Izuku to their room, guiding him gently to the bed. Izuku crawled under the covers without protest, curling up on his side. Katsuki hovered by the bedside for a moment, drinking in the sight of his peaceful sleeping form.

I'll protect you, Deku, Katsuki promised silently, his resolve solidifying. Sliding in beside him, he wrapped an arm around Izuku's waist, pulling him closer until their bodies aligned perfectly. Izuku's soft sigh of contentment seeped into Katsuki's core, calming the tempest in his mind temporarily. As sleep finally claimed him, Katsuki clung to his warmth, vowing to find a solution before dawn broke—one that wouldn't risk shattering the fragile trust Izuku had placed in him again.