Chapter Text
It began the way most things don’t, a way that has you going, “literally, so what? Who cares? How is this relevant?”.
It began with nail polish.
And its relevance can be attached to the person wearing the polish, Katsuki Bakugou.
It wasn’t really a secret among the class that he would occasionally wear light makeup around the dorms and in class. The eyeliner helped fill the gaps in his mask, and when asked why he wouldn’t just paint his whole eye with black paint, he would scoff and yell that he would look too crazy and he might as well be trying to cosplay Aizawa at that point.
Besides, nobody could deny that the eyeliner looked killer on him.
So it wasn’t strange for him to wear some sort of cosmetic. It just was never with his hands.
The thing is, Izuku knows a lot about his quirk; having grown up with him, it was only natural. He knew that Katsuki sweats nitroglycerin, and he knew that it was the most intense in his hands, which made it difficult for him to do most things other people could, such as petting animals, holding hands for long periods of time, using matches, and lighters.
His hands were toxic.
So when he saw him wearing bright orange nail polish, Izuku was curious.
The whole dorm had been called out late at night for a “surprise evacuation drill.”
Nobody was prepared for it, so they were all kind of standing around looking ridiculous.
Ashido was wearing a bright blue cheetah-print satin bonnet with a matching robe and loudly complained to Jiro that it was “too cold.” Jiro was using her ear jacks to hold her hair in a messy ponytail.
Kaminari was wearing a hot pink shirt that said “Barbie Girl” off-center, with lots of tacky hearts haphazardly floating around, and a “matching” set of Shrek shorts.
Izuku himself was a little embarrassed since he was wearing a pair of All Might boxers and a white tank top.
He looked over at Katsuki, who looked, all things considered, pretty nice (though he knows he’s biased; he always thinks Katsuki looks nice). His hair was pushed back by a black fuzzy headband and shorts, which were definitely just a little bit shorter than usual, which absolutely made Izuku’s heart do a bunch of silly little flips.
But as he was quietly talking to Yaourozu, he moved his hand slightly, and that’s when he noticed the polish.
Nobody else was batting an eye, and why would they? It really doesn’t matter. Of course, he can wear nail polish.
Except that he wouldn't be able to keep it on and show it off. The nitroglycerin would make sure of that, and Katsuki loved to gloat.
He would constantly brag about his godlike eyeliner skills, which honestly was deserved. He really was that good at it.
So, Izuku wondered, why bother painting his nails at all to begin with if the nitroglycerin was going to make sure it wouldn’t stay?
It would only stay on for an hour tops, and it was already starting to peel off, so what was the point?
As the class slowly shuffled inside, Izuku caught Katsuki glancing at his hands, just for a moment, and his expression shifted into something unreadable to the average person. But Izuku was anything but an average person when it came to Katsuki.
It was like he was expecting it but was still disappointed anyway.
As all the boys and girls split into their separate groups, Izuku grabbed onto the bottom of Katsuki’s shirt, just to hold onto. Katsuki visibly relaxed just a little bit and balled his hands, hiding the nail polish that was already almost gone.
As the others started to go their separate ways into their rooms, Izuku couldn’t help yawning and leaning forward to rest his head on Katsuki’s shoulders.
They were alone in the elevator at that point, and Izuku took a deep breath in and out, his exhaustion hitting him nearly all at once. Though, maybe it wasn’t too surprising. He felt safest when it was just him and his Kachan, and with the way Katsuki leaned his head on top of Izuku’s, he felt pretty confident that the feeling was mutual.
Eventually, the elevator door opened to his level, and he had to let go.
“G’night, Kachan,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“…’Night, ‘Zu.”
He smiled at him before making his way back to his dorm.
The next day in class, Katsuki’s nail polish was gone.
In the past few months, he had gotten into this habit of looking at his hands during the day, usually thinking about something.
Izuku hadn’t really thought about it before, assuming he was just thinking about how to utilize his quirk in training best, but now he wasn’t too sure.
There was no doubt to him that he was thinking about his quirk, but probably not in the way Izuku had originally thought.
As the day carried on, Katsuki kept looking at his hands, practically sprinting to his room as soon as they got to the dorms.
Maybe it didn’t matter why Katsuki wore nail polish when it wouldn’t last an hour.
All that mattered was that it was important to him, even if Izuku didn’t fully understand why.