Archive of Our Own ^beta

As the roar of the audience died down, Katsuki adjusted the endpin and settled into his chair. To his right, he locked eyes with Izuku, staring deep into the shining emeralds glowing beneath the stage lights. His heart raced – not from the nerves of performing, as that was something he had long since learned to deal with, but from the heavy emotional weight of this single moment.

Over two decades in the making, and he was finally here. He sat center stage in MUZA Kawasaki, one of the most beautiful symphony halls in all of Japan. Not only did he hold the title he’d desired since he was a child, principal cellist of the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra, but he held it alongside Izuku – principal violinist, his long-time friend, his partner, and his lover. And the two had been asked to perform an arrangement of Vittorio Monti’s Czardas.

Izuku smiled, quelling the tempest in his chest. The green curls on top of Izuku’s head shook as he nodded to the pianist behind them, signaling they were ready. Katsuki sucked in a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he gripped his bow. Izuku lifted his own and raised his head slightly as their cue to begin. All at once, the three began to play; four long chords resonated through the hall as they began their duet.

*****

Katsuki sat in the black, plastic chair as he waited for his lesson. His legs swung back and forth as his toes brushed against the ground. He listened to the other student struggling to get through several major scales on the violin from his spot near the door. Katsuki scoffed, knowing he already started learning natural minor and harmonic minor scales.

Since he picked up a cello two years ago, he’d been told he’d do great things. And, it seemed he was living up to the expectations. Katsuki smiled as he looked at his new cello, a quarter size instead of the eighth size that most six-year-olds were still using. Not only that, but his parents bought him the best equipment money could buy. 

Crimson eyes flicked over to the door as it clicked open, and his sensei stepped out. Shortly after, a child about his age with giant emerald eyes and a smile from ear to ear bounded out of the room.

“I’ll get it next time, Sensei. I promise!”

The man ruffled the already messy green curls on the top of the kid’s head.

“I bet you will. Katsuki-kun, are you ready?”

He clicked his teeth, standing up and grabbing the cello case roughly the size of his own body. The kid scurried over and held out a hand.

“I’m Izuku! Nice to meet you, Katch- Katchu- Kacchan!”

The kid’s hand was still extended, waiting for Katsuki to return the gesture. Giving him a once-over, he noticed the kid’s shirt, at least two sizes too big for his scrawny body, and it read ‘dress shirt’. The rest of his outfit fared no better, topping it off with ugly, bright red shoes. Despite the disheveled appearance, Izuku’s smile was bright as the sun, leading Katrsuki’s eyes to fall on the constellation of freckles on his cheeks.

A hand rested in the center of his back, and Katuski turned to look at his father. With his kind smile and soft eyes, he nudged his head toward the friendly child. Katsuki rolled his eyes, knowing what his dad expected.

“It’s Katsuki. And don't forget the name because I’ll be famous someday. Got it, Deku?”

Katsuki crossed his arms, but Deku held fast, extending his arm even further.

“I won’t forget! I’ve heard Kacchan play before, and Kacchan’s amazing!”

Pride bubbled in his chest. He leered at Deku’s tiny hand before taking it in his own. With one firm tug, he shook his hand and then stormed to the practice room, leaving behind his father’s surprised laughter and an awe-struck Deku.

*****

Katsuki smiled as Izuku’s face contorted into one of intense concentration. He moved and swayed to the music as the rich, lower octave of his violin provided the perfect introduction to the andante section. The piano joined, and Katsuki closed his eyes, ready for his entrance.

His hands moved on their own, having practised the movements to the point they were second nature by now. Listening to the piano accompaniment in the background, Katsuki felt the theme move through him, drawing the long, smooth movements of the bow. The deep, full tones of the cello filled the auditorium – the same sounds that Izuku had jokingly said sounds of how chocolate tastes. Katsuki still doesn’t think he understands, but he never quite liked sweet things until after he met Izuku. As his vibrato tapered off, Izuku picked up the theme.

Izuku parroted Katsuki’s theme in a passionate display of emotion. Where Katsuki excelled in technical precision, Izuku far surpassed him in his ability to convey even the most subtle shift of feeling. While many musicians could bring out emotion in a performative sense, Izuku’s was always authentic; he poured his own genuine emotions into his performance with his heart and soul. A swell of pride blossomed in Bakugou’s chest, knowing that the only other thing Izuku would treat in such a way is their relationship.

Displaying his technical skill, Katsuki returned to the theme, showing off his precise left-hand technique as he easily shifted between pianissimo and fortissimo with the bow. Without having to look, he could feel the love and joy emanating from beside him where Izuku stood, watching, waiting for his turn to introduce a variation on the original theme.

Passing the baton back to Izuku, he watched nimble fingers fly through his solo. Controlling the tempo, Izuku felt his way through an expressive ritardando. Under the warm stage lights, Katsuki’s face flushed, knowing it was at least in part from the way he stared at his boyfriend as he performed. Katsuki had always imagined himself here, on stage as principal cellist in a renowned symphony orchestra. But what surprised him was how over the years, his dream became not only that but accomplishing his goal with Izuku by his side.

*****

The violins harmonized together, following the conductor’s movements, and Katsuki winced as someone played incredibly out of tune. While there were dozens of kids across from him, bowing in time, his eyes could only focus on the small kid in the last seat of the youth orchestra; the kid that barely made the cut. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and his tongue jutted out the side of his mouth ever so slightly. Katsuki would never forget the mop of unruly green curls, having seen it once per week for at least three years after their respective lessons. It had been a few years since he’d seen the kid, though.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. Thank you, everyone.”

The children stood and bowed to the conductor before packing up their things. He scoffed and rolled his eyes as the little nerd bounded toward the conductor, talking a million miles an hour about who knows what. By the time Katuski put his cello and bow away, Izuku had returned to his seat and started to do the same. Katsuki couldn’t help but watch intently as Izuku handled his violin. The old instrument was worn, and several spots were severely discolored. Despite it clearly being poor quality, Izuku handled it as if it were a Stradivarius.

Say what you will about his playing or technical skill, but the kid clearly loved music and loved his instrument. It was the one thing Katsuki had been told he lacked; his connection to the piece and his ability to make the audience feel.

Leaving him behind, Katsuki took his time down the long hallways, not wanting to return to his overbearing yet well-intentioned parents. He didn’t want to hear any more about how disappointed they were that he wasn’t placed as principal, even though he was seated third next to two children three years his senior. As he exited the building, he failed to see the tell-tale sign of his mom’s bright red car and leaned against the wall to wait.

He turned his head as someone brushed against his shoulder. With his eyes to the ground, Izuku walked past; his shoulders slumped forward as he started walking down the sidewalk. He almost got past the edge of the building by the time Katsuki’s mom pulled up. Izuku seemed to be walking in the direction of Katsuki’s home. He wasn’t sure why, but something compelled him to call out to the kid.

“Hey, Deku.”

He whipped his head around, his expression unreadable from that distance.

“Need a ride?”

Izuku hurried back, holding his violin case to his chest as he approached Katsuki. His smile was as blinding as Katsuki remembered, and the freckles on his cheeks stood out more from the flush against his cheeks.

“I’m surprised you remember me, Kacchan! But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you have a good memory. Kacchan is amazing!”

Something stirred in Katsuki’s gut. He typically enjoyed the praise – expected it almost – but for some reason, with Izuku, it felt a little different, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

“Yeah, um, it’s whatever. Do you need a ride?”

As Izuku nodded emphatically, his curls bounced on his head and fell in front of his face. With a puff of air, he moved his bangs out of the way and smiled again, this time showing off the dimples in each of his cheeks. Katsuki wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt warm and couldn’t stand to look into the bottomless depths of Izuku’s big emerald eyes.

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

*****

Katsuki’s lip curled upwards at the way Izuku’s expression softened, and his brows scrunched together with the flourishes and a descending sixteenth-note pattern. His bow flew off to his side just before guiding them straight into the allegro vivo section.

They looked to each other for only a moment, but it was enough time for both to breathe in time together, shoulders raising before they brought their bows back down on their instruments. While Izuku took over with the new theme, Katuski backed him up with spiccato notes, mimicking the piano’s staccato chords. 

He watched and waited patiently, listening and feeling to Izuku from the sidelines – another thing Izuku had introduced into his life. With Izuku, it wasn’t about Katsuki being in the limelight or the validation and attention he got from his accomplishments. Because of Izuku, he realized all those things were hollow; they meant nothing without the support of the person he loved most. He realized that just as in music as it is in life, he needed to learn to support each other in their successes and especially in their failures.

Then, it was Katsuki’s turn to take the lead, with Izuku supporting him from the side. The lively melody, having modulated to a major key, reminded him of how Izuku had transformed his life from something tolerable to something wonderful. His fingers spanned the entire length of the neck, and several hairs from his bow broke and hung limp at the sides. Katsuki smiled as he let the music take him, mimicking the way Izuku presented the theme while adding his own turns and embellishments.

As they neared the end of the section, crimson eyes met with emerald. They connected in that single moment, the electricity flowing between them and cutting across the stage. All the passion and energy between them, both for each other and for their art, jolted through them as he completed the section.

*****

Katsuki held the small block of rosin in his hands, turning it over and over as he waited for his audition. He rested his forearms on his knees, staring at the pressed black pants of his brand new high school uniform. From the room in front of him, he listened in on the other student’s audition. Katsuki wasn’t nervous, he knew he would come in first for their school’s orchestra, but he wanted to know how much he’d have to carry the extras in the other sections.

As he listened, he lifted his gaze, entranced by the beautiful melody and clear, pristine tone of whoever was playing. The piece was soft and full of emotion. While it didn’t sound technical, just a few short minutes of the excerpt was enough for the corners of his eyes to burn with tears. He blinked them away, taking in a deep breath to steady himself before his audition, but his breath was stopped short when the door opened, and a set of large, green eyes he hadn’t seen in years appeared before him.

“Kacchan?”

“Hey.” His voice tapered off as he processed that the beautiful peace he had been so captivated with came from the likes of Deku.

“Oh!” Izuku almost jumped in place, his eyes going wide with excitement. “I can’t believe I’ll be going to the same high school as you, Kacchan! This is amazing!”

Katsuki stared in awkward silence as he looked Izuku over. He had grown since he last saw him a year ago. He was still small, but Katsuki didn’t have quite the height advantage he used to, and Izuku’s muscles seemed to have filled out some. In his hands, Izuku held a beautiful new violin that certainly wasn’t the one he used to play.

“That’s new.” He pointed to the instrument, his mouth slightly agape.

“Yeah.” Izuku looked at the floor, twisting one of his bright red shoes back and forth. “Um, it’s why I had to quit the youth orchestra last year. M-my mom couldn’t afford both, and we’re still, well, paying it off and-”

“Deku.” 

He stopped his muttering, snapping his mouth shut and bringing his gaze back up.

“You’ve improved. A lot.” His chest ached as Izuku flashed that smile he hadn’t seen in so long. Covering whatever emotion was floating around in his chest, he gave Izuku a wry smirk. “Just make sure you keep up.”

Katsuki later wondered if he had seen a blush on Izuku’s face as he was called into the room for his audition or whether it was just a trick of the mind.

“Of course, Kacchan.”

*****

Izuku’s shoulders snapped back as he brought in the next session, standing strong and proud as he brought his bow down onto the strings. It would never fail to be incredible to Katsuki just how much Izuku’s confidence had skyrocketed over the years. He still had a habit of second-guessing himself and of questioning his abilities, but Katsuki always made sure he knew just how incredible he was. Katsuki never complimented freely, so Izuku knew how much weight the words held when Katsuki would cheer him on.

His chest ached with the familiar pang of emotion he felt any time he looked at Izuku as he was lost in whatever piece he was applying at the time. It was a sensation he never experienced before he met Izuku and one he only learned to feel for other things after meeting with him. The two true loves he had in his life had always been and will always be Izuku and their music. Tears threatened to form in the corners of his eyes, and he focused on the romanticism conveyed through his block chords.

Katsuki played his part back as if serenading his love which, in a way, he was. Nobody would describe him as soft by any means, but Izuku seemed to draw out that side of him. And Katuski would be forever grateful for just how much that improved his skills as a musician.

As each of them provided a soft tremolo for the piano, keeping it pianissimo, they looked to each other. Katsuki’s heart began to race and thump against his chest, syncopated from the current time. He knew it meant the piece was almost complete. His moment on stage with Izuku will have passed, but their time together will not.

*****

Katuski’s bow slowed to a halt, dragging out the last note of the piece. As he lowered his head, releasing the bow from the strings, he looked to Izuku. His duet partner stared wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear.

“That was amazing, Kacchan.”

“You weren’t anything to laugh at either.”

In the evening light shining through the music room window, Izuku had an ethereal glow about him. They’d been practicing for months for the national competition, their fingers calloused over and sore from practicing their respective solos in addition to their duet.

“You think so?”

Katsuki loved the soft blush along Izuku’s cheeks. It highlighted his freckles, and Katsuki loved how Izuku’s face was always so expressive and showed his emotions clear as day.

“Of course.”

Izuku smiled wide, but his face fell as his eyes landed on the clock on the wall. “Think we have time for one more?”

Katsuki didn’t bother worrying about whether they did or not. For him, the answer would always be yes. He would always want to play more, especially with Izuku. He would always want to monopolize as much of Izuku’s time as possible; any minute he was able to spend with him, he would. But of course, music was the only way Katsuki knew how to speak his feelings properly.

“Always.”

They ran through the duet again, agreeing to refrain from stopping to fix any errors and instead let the music guide them. Both were grinning ear to ear by the time they finished, trying their hardest to calm their breaths as they finished their best run-through to date. With chests heaving, they looked to each other with chests heaving, bows still raised.

Their faces were only inches apart, and Katsuki could feel the self-control he had so carefully constructed shatter into pieces. He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Izuku’s. The kiss lasted only for a second before Katsuki pulled away. He looked up to see those gorgeous eyes fluttering open and his plush lips still parted. Without breaking eye contact, Izuku set his violin down on the piano bench, placing his bow beside it.

This time, Izuku initiated the contact. It was hesitant at first, but Katsuki sucked in a breath through his nose as their lips touched. Izuku’s hand rested atop Katsuki’s, and it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He allowed Izuku to grab his bow so they could rid Katsuki’s hands of his instrument. Once they were free, his large, calloused hands cupped Izuku’s jaw. All the pent up energy from months of pining over the nerdy violinist came crashing down at once.

Turning his head to get a different angle, Katsuki deepened the kiss and Izuku easily accepted. Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat as Izuku’s hands gripped at the front of his school uniform, pulling him closer. He got lost in everything Izuku as he compared the kiss to everything he imagined it would be.

Izuku’s lips were chapped like expected but still soft and warm. His hair was just as soft as he thought it would be from the few times he was brave enough to rustle his hair in jest. Katsuki couldn’t get enough of him, and honestly, he never wanted to.

Both boys jumped away from each other as Izuku’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Katsuki smiled as he noticed how red and swollen Izuku’s lips looked and how cute he looked when flustered. Katsuki felt like an idiot as he stood there gawking, unable to hold back the uncharacteristic smile spreading across his face.

“Um, I really need to get home.”

Katsuki stepped forward, and Izuku looked up at him, his lips already parting. “Can I walk you there?”

Izuku nodded, looking through half-lidded eyes and long lashes. Katsuki placed one final kiss on Izuku’s lips before backing away.

“Alright. Let’s get going.”

*****

Katsuki dipped his head low as he put his bow to the strings, gradually picking up tempo until the two were locked into the allegro vivo section. He smiled as he fell in time with the piano, remembering the hours of practice with the three of them and seeing just how allegro they could maintain the section. As his control of the theme was handed to Izuku, a bright pair of eyes locked onto his. Izuku winked, and Katsuki could feel his heart melt.

His bow bounced against his strings as he let Izuku lead. The vivo portion of the piece, the part full of life and energy, Katsuki felt was an appropriate depiction of their relationship. Through the good and the bad, the easy and the difficult, if anything- their relationship was full of life. With two people so passionate and invested in the things they love, including each other, there was never a dull moment between them. 

Rehearsals were full of stolen kisses backstage. Arguments were loud and intense but only from their strong emotions and feelings; never once had they feared for the relationship. Even the quiet moments at home, cuddling on the sofa as they nodded off to the television, were charged with so much energy and love and contentment.

As Katsuki leaned into the playful glissando, his mind wandered to the encore, anxiety creeping into the back of his mind about all the ways in which it could go wrong. He had no doubt about Izuku’s role, but he couldn’t help but wonder if, at perhaps the most important moment of his life so far, he would finally let his nerves get to him.

*****

Katsuki sat on the tattered sofa next to Izuku, both of them holding the smooth, white envelopes in their hands. They had moved in together a few years before, partially to save money and partially because they were practically living together anyway. While it helped save money, and they were able to make a little on the side from performances, paying their way through the conservatory was rough.

Izuku’s brilliant and dazzling eyes were often accompanied by dark circles weighing them down. At times, depending on their schedules and performance lists, they were like ships passing in the night. A few months before, they spent more time together in the practice rooms than they did at home. But, as they sat together holding their futures in their hands, there was a chance it would all be worth it.

Carefully opening the flap, they pulled the letters from the envelope. Neither made a move to open it and instead sat in the ever-building tension. Katsuki’s stomach churned with a volatile mix of excitement and fear. He could tell Izuku wasn’t faring any better as his boyfriend bit his lip and wrinkled his nose in thought.

“Deku. You ready?”

With a deep breath, Izuku nodded.

As they opened the letters, the silence within the small studio apartment was eerie and unsettling. They looked over the contents, eyes wide in anticipation. Katsuki dropped the letter to his lap and looked at Izuku. When his boyfriend turned, fat tears were forming in the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall down his adorable, freckled cheeks.

“Did you make it?”

Katsuki’s heart fluttered and soared, but the anxiety remained as he waited to hear Izuku’s response.

“Yeah. I did.” His voice was breathy and full of disbelief as he nodded his head.

Katsuki lunged forward, capturing Izuku in a crushing embrace. He noticed he was crying too as his tears dripped onto the back of Izuku’s shirt. His hands rubbed against Izuku’s back, and he had to choke back the emotion spilling from his voice.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s shoulders and broke free, staring into his soul with a seriousness he rarely conveyed. “But Kacchan, what about you?”

Katsuki shouldn’t have been surprised that Izuku’s concern for his own well-being took a backseat. Months ago, Katsuki had noticed the TSO was looking for both a cellist and a violinist, and at first, Izuku would only consider Katuski applying by himself. Ultimately, the opportunity was too perfect, and so they both applied on a whim. Their auditions fell on the same day and, while Katsuki would never admit he believed in something so soft and idealistic, he felt like it was fate. And the letters in their hands only proved that point further.

“Of course I made it, nerd.”

At that moment, with Izuku’s unparalleled joy and enthusiasm, Katsuki knew it was the happiest moment of his life. His dream – their dream – was one step closer to coming to fruition. With his hands on either side of Izuku’s face, Katsuki pulled him into a ravenous kiss. Izuku chirped in surprise but soon melted into Katsuki’s touch.

Katsuki leaned back, laying on the lumpy couch with the worn springs and brought Izuku with him, keeping their lips together. It quickly became a sloppy mess, between the tears and smiling between kisses; both were overwhelmed with more emotion than they could handle. Katsuki looked up at Izuku with his watery eyes and kiss-swollen lips and only felt excited about the future. It had been the happiest night of Katsuki’s life so far.

“I love you, Izuku.”

“I love you too, Kacchan.”

*****

The two of them played in perfect harmony, completely in sync, as they often are. So many things from their art and their work benefited their relationship, which, in turn, improved their playing. 

The longer they played together, the easier they picked up on the subtle cues within each other’s body language. They had to look to each other to keep time, to transition between sections and tempos and mood. They do the same for each other in the relationship. While many of their colleagues were well acquainted with Izuku’s anxiety, Katsuki knew the difference between his muttering and times when his lips were dry and chapped from being bitten and rubbed raw. And, of course, Izuku had learned to speak Katsuki’s body language too.

Izuku knew when his witty remarks and defensive quips were in jest and when they meant he needed Izuku to pull him closer rather than get pushed away. He knew when Katsuki’s bravado was true and when it was a thick facade for the perfectionism that had been instilled in him since he was a child. The dynamic push and pull between them, the give and take, and the way they knew each other so intimately mirrored the way they played and was paralleled in other aspects of the relationship too.

His heart started to pick up along with the tempo as they barreled toward the end of the piece. He knew his time was coming, and he could count on one hand the number of times he had genuinely felt nervous. He maintained his grip on the cello and his bow as his hands began to sweat. He closed his eyes, not allowing himself to look at Izuku and instead pouring all of his energy into the sounds floating around him. With the final three notes, thick and strong like the ties connecting them, the piece was complete. Their bows raised high in the air as they both drew in heavy breaths.

The audience rose and gave them a standing ovation. Both he and Izuku turned to face the packed auditorium, bowing in tandem. While Izuku remained bent at the waist, Katsuki set down his bow and instrument. He dug into his pocket, grabbing at the small black box that had sat patiently through the hour-long recital.

As he opened the box, down on one knee, Izuku must have noticed something was amiss as he brought himself back up to a stand. When he turned to look for Katsuki, then brought his gaze downward, his eyes immediately welled with fat tears. Having been told beforehand, their pianist walked over to grab Izuku’s violin and bow and take them to safety. 

As soon as he was free, Izuku fell to his knees and captured Katsuki into a fierce embrace. In his flurry of emotion, he could only laugh as Izuku forgot to give him an answer. When he had enough, Izuku pulled away and held out his hand.

“I take that as a yes, nerd?”

“Of course, Kacchan. Yes.”

Katsuki slipped the ring onto his finger to the continued applause of the audience. While their kiss was quick, it was full of passion and understanding. He brushed a tear from beneath Izuku’s eye with his thumb and gave a gentle smile. 

Turning to the audience and bowing once again, this time with their hands entwined and Katsuki feeling the weight of the band around Izuku’s finger, the crowd erupted further. Izuku giggled at the subtle whistles of some of their colleagues behind them.

As they walked off stage, he squeezed Izuku’s hand, knowing that he wouldn’t take back a single thing.