"Kacchan?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know where All Might is?"

"Sort of. Why?"

"I've been thinking a lot about him. I wrote him a letter in therapy. I've written him a couple letters, actually, but I think I have one I actually want to send now."

For the first time since he started cooking, he looked over his shoulder at Izuku. He'd been doing so well over the last year, he was almost the old Izuku. The Izuku that was actually happy, not just playing at it. The one who wasn't being eaten away by rage and self-hatred and drinking to forget it. Katsuki liked to think he was part of the reason why. He liked to think that as much pain as he'd caused him in the past, he'd also helped heal him again. When Katsuki didn't answer right away, he continued.

"He may not appreciate hearing from me, but I kinda need the closure. Is that selfish? Of course it's selfish, but I just—like, you and I talked, and I forgave you, and look how happy I am now. I just think it's time to give up this grudge."

"I think he'd love to hear from you."

"Really?"

Katsuki nodded, remembering the look in All Might's eyes when Katsuki asked him to sign that poster over a decade ago.

"Can I read it?"

Izuku looked a little sheepish, but he nodded and hopped off the barstool to retrieve the letter. Katsuki busied himself with plating their food.

He appeared as Katsuki was setting their food on the table, nearly barreling into him as his socked feet slid across the wood floor of their home. Katsuki steadied him, but wasn't quite ready to let him go. He pulled him to his side, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and kissing his hair.

Izuku tilted his head back to catch Katsuki's lips in another kiss, and pressed the folded sheet of paper to his chest. He'd read it after dinner.

"I'll make sure he gets it."

—

They settled on the couch, the envelope in Katsuki's hand, and Izuku draped across his lap, so they could read it together. Izuku looked nervous, so he pressed a kiss to his temple before diving in.

All Might,

My name is Midoriya Izuku. We met a long time ago in Musutafu. You saved me from a sludge villain, and I repaid you by accosting you. Sorry about that, by the way. You may not remember what happened that day, but I asked you if I could be a hero like you, even though I was Quirkless.

I'm not proud to admit that I completely lost my mind when you told me no. Now, I can see that you had my best interests in mind. I can appreciate that now that I have the insight I have. But back then, I was so angry. I went home and tore down my All Might posters (I had a lot of them) and got rid of everything that had to do with you. I promised myself I would prove everyone wrong, especially you, and another very important person in my life.

That rage got me to where I am today, but I plateaued after a while. I built such a shell around myself that I never enjoyed what I was doing. I became a hero, and it felt like a job I didn't want once I had it. I was going through the motions. I was upset about the natural limitations I faced, the disadvantages I had to fight tooth and nail to overcome. I was so angry I sucked the life out of my dream job. It wasn't until very recently that I came to terms with this anger, and I've decided to let it go. In reconnecting with that important person, he's helped me embrace the good in my life.

This is my long, roundabout way of saying I forgive you. The truth is I wouldn't have half the things I have today if I hadn't met you and you hadn't lit that fire in me. Thank you.

Your fan,

Midoriya Izuku, Quirkless

PS- Thank you for that poster you signed for me.

"You're not gonna tell him you don't have the poster anymore?"

"You don't have it?" Izuku had the audacity to pout at him. Katsuki bit his lower lip in retaliation, grinning evilly when Izuku complained.

"I blew it up as soon as you disappeared around the corner from my house."

"I guess I should've expected that."

"I've got a pretty decent collection at my parents' house still. I'm willing to share with you," he said, kissing Izuku's shoulder. Izuku melted further into his lap, hands roaming the planes of his chest.

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, Kacchan. Take off your pants."

Katsuki snorted, but allowed Izuku to pull on the drawstring of his sweats anyway.

"So much for All Might being a phase."

Izuku shut him up with a kiss—the only way he'd ever allow himself to be silenced.

—

Nearly a month passed before a response turned up. Izuku was adamant in saying he wasn't expecting a reply, that expecting one would be asking too much, and he'd already gotten all the closure he needed. Katsuki knew it was a crock of shit, but he let him think he was being fooled. The letter never got to Katsuki. This time it surfaced in the form of Aizawa tossing it onto Izuku's desk at work.

Izuku was shaking—either with excitement or dread, Katsuki wasn't totally sure—when he got home and the letter remained sealed.

"You gonna open it?"

"Of course! I just—"

"Don't think too hard. Just do it," Katsuki said, using his soft voice, the voice he used when his tiny husband was teetering over an edge.

"Later," Izuku said, his eyes never leaving the envelope. Katsuki nodded. Izuku's hands found their way under his shirt, palming at his sweat slick back. Katsuki groaned feeling all the dirt and grime from work.

"Hmm?" Izuku asked, invading his space and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his neck.

"Let me shower first," Katsuki said, but made no move to extricate himself from Izuku's ministrations.

"Why? I like it." He swiped the flat of his tongue along Katsuki's neck, no doubt tasting the salt and smoke of a hard day's work.

"You're so gross. Damn Deku," Katsuki said, trying not to smile at the attention.

"Fine. Let's get you cleaned up. I'm coming with."

"Only if you let me brush your goddamn hair." Katsuki would never admit it, but he loved detangling his ragamuffin husband's curls. He also loved running his fingers through his hair and not getting them stuck in the knots. Izuku rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the bathroom.

Soapy touching and rubbing and kissing were among the things Katsuki cherished most in this new, blissfully domestic life with Izuku. The feeling of smooth, wet skin gliding across his was such a familiar sensation and yet it somehow felt new every time. They stayed there until the water turned icy and they were forced out. Izuku yelped as Katsuki held him under the chilled water and washed the conditioner from his beautiful curls, stealing kisses every time he opened his mouth to complain.

Later, they fell into bed, both spent from a long day and relaxed by the steamy shower. Izuku was wrapped in an enormous terry cloth robe and Katsuki couldn't be bothered to put anything on other than his towel. Izuku waded through the mass of sheets and pillows to lay himself in Katsuki's arms, his head against his bare chest. Katsuki welcomed him. He never knew that full feeling he used to catch onto so fleetingly could be his natural setting, but there he was. It hadn't gone away once since he came to his apartment and told him he loved him.

He didn't know Izuku held the letter until he heard the seal rip. Katsuki's heart clenched. In the two years they'd been together for real, his heart was always finding new things to stutter at. Something as simple as Izuku willing to share the contents of the letter with him spoke to the deep, unwavering trust they'd built together. Katsuki felt the need to squeeze his partner, so he did. Izuku laughed, the kind of laugh that bubbles out of a person when smiling wasn't enough to convey their contentment.

"Ready?"

"Always." He kissed his wet ringlet curls. Izuku settled in, ready to read to Katsuki.

Midoriya Izuku,

"That's me! This is surreal," Izuku squealed. Katsuki rolled his eyes.

"No shit, Deku. Keep reading." Katsuki chuckled.

I was very happy to receive a letter from you. It may surprise you to know I've spent a great deal of time thinking of you these last fifteen or so years since we met. I remember that day very well, and like you, it's haunted me every day since.

I've followed your career with a zeal I've only felt for my own hero work. I feel you've more than proved me wrong. I knew it that day, when you rushed into danger to save your friend when no other hero acted. No matter my intentions that day, I snubbed you and disregarded your dreams. Any lesser man would've taken my harsh words at face value. I am so glad you didn't.

Your forgiveness means the world to me, and to know that you are happy and healthy in your life is a blessing. Take it from a retired, old pro, you should cherish every second you have, and share it with those you love. I will continue to follow your career, both within the halls of UA and out in the field. I know you'll change the world for the better with every step you take. Thank you for sharing a little bit of your success with me. If you wouldn't mind, I've attached a poster (Aizawa is probably holding onto it for me) and I'd be honored if you'd sign it. Further correspondence is unnecessary, but it would warm an old man's heart to stay in touch.

You're a bright light in the hero community and Japan would be a lesser place without you.

Your fan,

Yagi Toshinori

PS- Tell Bakugo not to be a stranger. I'm happy for both of you.

"A fan? He said he's a fan!" He squeaked, crinkling the letter in his excitement. He immediately smoothed out the wrinkles, and Katsuki knew it would become a cherished artifact for him. Katsuki took the letter and placed it gently on the nightstand, so as not to desecrate it further. He rolled over, ready to have his way with the love of his life.

"I'm your biggest fan," he growled, burrowing into the collar of Izuku's gigantic robe to kiss his neck.

"Kacchan, you can't be jealous of All Might."

"I'm not jealous of shit. Take this stupid robe off. I hate it," he said, his hands searching for Izuku's skin.

"You bought me this robe," Izuku said, offended, as if he'd insulted his first born child and not a shitty piece of clothing. His argument stopped short when Katsuki's hands found the soft skin of his hips, his thighs.

"Well, I wouldn't have if I'd have known it'd be impossible to get you to take it off," he grumbled, pulling on the knot of fabric that kept the robe in place. When it was gone, and Izuku was fully unobstructed, they crashed into each other, warm and light and so right neither of them could hold out for too long.

Katsuki thought once that Izuku was like a comet, a fleeting, unimportant piece of space rocketing across the sky, aimless in its path. He never knew he could be so wrong. He knew what Izuku was the first time he lay tangled up in him, basking in his warmth. Izuku was the sun, bright and constant, with an undeniable, almost dangerous pull. Katsuki was more than happy to orbit around him for the rest of his life, grateful every time he got too close, and they set each other alight.