~BNHA~ The Echoes of Silence

Untitled Part 9

After leaving the Pastor's apartment, Katsuki had every plan to head back home and leave Izuku to his own drunken stupor. But before he know it, Katsuki had marched through the night towards Izuku's place like a raging storm.

The neighborhood's chill, rather than quelling the fire raging inside him, only fanned it, fueling a mix of worry and a stubborn resolve. Izuku's face at his last sighting—flushed with liquor and anger—etched itself into Katsuki's mind, pulling him forward. This is it, the do or die, he thought, his fist rapping on the door with a determination that mirrored the tumult in his heart.

The door swung open to reveal Izuku, less the drunken fury Katsuki had braced for, and more a man caught in the aftermath, his defiance simmering under a veneer of control. "Katsuki? What the hell are you doing here?" The words were clipped and cold, like when they had first met.

Came to check on your drunk ass, Katsuki nearly said, but bit back the words. "After the shit show you pulled earlier. Just making sure you didn't end up face-first in a ditch somewhere," he replied, his tone walking a tightrope between concern and an irked edge.

Izuku's stance hardened. His grip tightened on the doorknob, as if having every intention of keeping Katsuki out.

In the dim lighting, the dark circles under Izuku's eyes contrasted against the freckled of his cheeks. "Well, I'm not in a ditch. Happy? Now you can leave." The dismissal hung between them, a challenge in its own right.

But Katsuki wasn't one to back down, not tonight. Forcing his way past Izuku, Izuku allowed the door to close behind him, sealing them in with the palpable tension that filled the room like smoke.

"And what about the pastor?" Izuku's voice cut through the unease, carrying a note of something unidentifiable.

Katsuki paused, turning to face him. "Curious, are we?" The words leaped out, edged and barbed. "Yeah, I kissed him. What's it to you?" His voice was a provocation, keen to scrape beneath Izuku's carefully maintained surface.

Izuku flinched, the mask of indifference slipping. "Like I said, it's none of my business. Do whatever—or whoever—you want." The words were meant to dismiss, but their shaky delivery betrayed the tumult beneath.

"That so? 'Cause from where I'm standing, it looks like it's eating you up," Katsuki shot back, the venom of rejection lending a harshness to his words. "But let's not forget who turned who away first."

The air thickened with unsaid things, charged and heavy. "This isn't about that, Katsuki," Izuku countered, his voice a tightrope over an abyss of emotion. "We can't—"

Katsuki cut him off, closing the gap between them in a few strides. "Can't what? Admit there's something here worth exploring? Or are you too scared to face it?" His words were a gamble, a throw of the dice landing them both in unknown territory.

The standoff hung in the air, a palpable entity, until Katsuki, propelled by a blend of frustration and a raw, undeniable pull, bridged the final distance. Their lips met in a clash, not of conflict, but of a desperate, searching need. It was an admission, a surrender, and a challenge all at once, spoken in the silent language of touch and breath and heat.

Izuku's arms, which had initially tensed in surprise, wrapped around Katsuki's waist in a grip that spoke of surrender. His initial resistance melted into the kiss, marking a significant shift between them.

As they parted, breathless and on the cliff of something undefined but real, Katsuki dared to voice the challenge. "Now, tell me you don't feel a damn thing."

The answer came not in words but in the storm brewing in Izuku's eyes—a tempest of emotions that Katsuki had only glimpsed at the edges. "I can't," Izuku admitted, his voice a mere breath, but laden with layers upon layers of unspoken sentiments.