Chapter Text
Katsuki was 7 years old when he punched Deku in the face in front of all of his friends. In hindsight he was surprised to find that he really wasn’t sure why he did it, all he knew was that he had an audience. Deku never had anyone in his corner, nobody to go to bat for him. Katsuki wasn’t sure what sick, insecure part of him had felt it necessary to step on others to get closer to the top. He still wasn’t sure why nobody stopped him. He wasn’t sure what kind of teacher would look onto blatant bullying and turn a blind eye. But Katsuki supposed that even if he had been checked once they entered middle school that he had already set into motion an unstoppable chain of events. He wouldn’t understand the gravity of his actions for a long time, much too self-absorbed to consider the consequences.
Izuku was 12 when he was outed to the entire school. He had confided in a counselor, who had let it slip to a student in their class. Katsuki was right there when they cast the first stone, hurled the first slur. It was something that struck Katsuki deep in his chest. Yet another feeling he wouldn’t understand for several years. Something had changed that day. His eyes unwittingly followed Izuku’s movements. He watched the way his fingers moved, the way he rolled his shoulders back in his seat, the lines of his back in the locker rooms. It made it hard to breathe, but more than anything it infuriated him. It was nothing but another distraction from his conquests, Deku had turned into his trial and temptation and he worked towards overcoming it with the same vicious single-mindedness that he applied to everything. He overcompensated, he took it too far, and before he knew it he was telling Midoriya Izuku to throw himself off the roof.
He thought about it later that night, when he was alone without the praises of others or the judgment-blurring acceptance he received during the daytime. His heart was a lot less forgiving of him than his ego. His conscience was even crueler. He thought about what he would do if Deku actually did it. He thought about how his mom always told him that a child is supposed to outlive their parents. He imagined a funeral and white roses and a stain on the concrete by the fountain. And somehow it still didn’t stop him. Not until he and Izuku lost contact, his mom didn’t even talk about it anymore. He wondered if his parents ever wondered how they raised such a shit kid.
Katsuki was nearing the end of his first year in the UA Hero Course when he started attending therapy. It was school-sanctioned of course; he would have never started by his own volition. There was something about being forced to get the help that took some weight off his chest.
It… helped. He learned some things, had some real earth-shattering epiphanies. At first it felt like getting flayed open but after about a month it felt like getting pieced back together. He wondered if he had ever been whole to begin with. He guessed that the answer was no, not since Deku left at least.
He felt off-brand during his appointments, and he hated it. He hated the openness and the sincerity in his weak ass voice but he considered it a stepping-stone, yet another trial in his efforts to become the best.
She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up further on the bridge of her nose and waited for him while he struggled with his words.
“I’m gay, probably.”
She nodded and didn’t look the least bit surprised, which offended him for some reason, “Okay.”
He opened his mouth, and snapped it shut, and then opened it again, “I didn’t want to deal with shit like that but I’m not a fucking liar and I’m not a coward.”
She liked to let him work things out on his own, only adding her input when she felt it was absolutely necessary.
“You’ve grown a lot. I think it might be time to re-evaluate your past relationship with Freckles.” She referred to the stupid fucking code name that they had come up with for Izuku. He had no idea how often stupid Deku would come up in his appointments. He must have been more pivotal than he would have thought. For someone who had faced real villains and fought for his life, you would think that the resultant PTSD would be the most prevalent topic at hand.
But Izuku was at the core of his character, like the voice of his conscience. “What the fuck ever. There’s nothing else to ‘re-evaluate’.” He had thought about it maybe a little too much. Under his shell and within his walls he was still 14 and tucked safely within the closet.
She worked him through his sexuality, internalized homophobia, and all that. It was a concept he hadn’t heard before, but the conversation and the resultant peace with his sexual orientation couldn’t have come at a better time, or maybe it was worse. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that during the fall semester, Izuku was transferred to the UA Support Department on a full scholarship. He wished he had some sort of heads up before seeing Deku again for the first time after nearly two years, looking like the essence of a lazy Sunday, smiling and surrounded with brand new, adoring friends. Radiant, annoyingly so.
“He’s like-“ Eijirou paused to swallow, “-a boy genius or something. I didn’t even know UA recruited high schoolers. I thought entry was an all-or-nothing sort of thing.”
Sero looked somewhat thoughtful for a minute, “I don’t really know much about the Support Department, to be honest. Other than Mei being a literal insane person.”
Iida, having become rather fond of said mechanic, chimed in from the kitchen, “The Support Department is more academically selective than the Hero Course. Midoriya transferred from Shiketsu on recommendation.”
“Have you met him yet, Bakubro?”
“No.”
Katsuki hadn’t even seen Roundface walk in, but she paused, “That’s weird. Izuku said he knew you back in middle school.”
Izuku, she had said so easily, as if she knew he mouthed the words to All Might movies and tried to pet every stray he met. Maybe she did, maybe she had taken the initiative to get to know him just like Katsuki never had. Something ached in his chest.
“Tch. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He stormed out the room without a glance back, with questions on the tip of his friend’s tongues.
***
Izuku and his stupid friends, unfortunately, enjoyed the neatly manicured lawn outside of the class 2-A dormitories. But he never stepped inside, and he never sought Katsuki out. Not once. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Deku didn’t even know he was there. This was a new feeling, being unacknowledged by Deku. Izuku had always acknowledged him in one way or another. Something about it made him want to crawl out his skin, he burned for the attention. Eyes on me, eyes on me, fuck, keep your stupid goddamn eyes on me.
From what Katsuki could see from a respectful distance, the last few years had been so incredibly kind to Deku. He was all broad shoulders and high cheekbones. Same freckles, different muscles though. What was he getting so goddamn bulked up for?
It was a little fitting that Katsuki burned for him so badly.
It was a long ass week. Fuck that. It was a long ass day; a long, mortifying, abomination of a day. And it was all because:
“Kachaan?”
Katsuki’s head whipped up from his lunch and he wheezed, “Hah?”
Izuku smiled and tilted his head, “I thought that was you, it’s good to see you again.”
Oh I bet the fuck you did you fucking vixen.
“Uhh-“
Denki cackled, “Well said.”
The panic-stricken look fell off Katsuki’s face and he smiled, “Come here Denki.”
“No dude, UGH what are you doing with your face? Why’s it look like that?”
Katsuki moved to stand up, “I just want to talk.”
Eijirou groaned loudly, “Come on, bro. Don’t disfigure Denki, you’re embarrassing us in front of Midoriya.”
Denki’s mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin, “Yeah Katsuki you’re being embarrassing.”
Shinsou sighed tiredly, “This is the third time this week.”
Katsuki slammed his fist on the table, “You Pikachu FUCK-“
Ashido gestured to an empty seat right beside her, “Sit down, babe. They’ll stop yelling eventually. “
Izuku glanced back at Katsuki, looking like he was on the verge of declining her offer, but settled for smiling graciously and lowering himself into the seat.
“So,” She propped her head up on her hands and looked over at him, “How are you liking UA.”
He hummed, “It’s been nice. Different, but nice.”
“So Shiketsu, huh? We met a few of those guys at the Hero License Exams.” Sero asked, having remained quiet for most of the ordeal.
Izuku smiled wide, “I know, I watched it! You guys were incredible.” Katsuki choked on his drink.
Kyoka sighed, “Hey, can you stop being a fucking diva for two seconds we’re trying to have a conversation.”
“Who in the FUCK-“
“Hey did I miss the memo?” Sero frowned, “Are we ganging up on Bakugou today?”
Katsuki wouldn’t have let it slide if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the thought that Izuku was there. And he watched him fight. Well maybe not him in particular but he was still in the stands. Watching him fight. “You were there?”
“I was in support at Shiketsu but I started doing quirk analysis for the class above, so I was invited to watch. I actually met Aizawa sensei there. Isn’t he your homeroom teacher?”
As if you don’t know, “So why the fuck did you come to UA then?”
“Bakugou that’s rude-“
Izuku didn’t look particularly phased, “Ms. Joke felt like my skill set would be better utilized here since UA’s support course is just as renowned as the hero course.”
“So how did quirk analysis turn into mechanics?” Ashido asked.
“Oh, I actually did both. The quirk analysis was like… an extracurricular of sorts.”
Mina sighed, “Pretty and smart.”
Izuku snorted at that, whereas Katsuki would have assumed he would blush and stutter like an idiot. The two options were that either than he was used to such compliments or he simply didn’t believe her, and Katsuki had a problem with both of them.
Izuku glanced over his shoulder just his gaggle of idiot friends wondered into the lunchroom, “Oh, looks like they’re here.” He cast a somewhat apologetic look to the group, hardly even looking at Katsuki, “It was nice meeting you guys!”
As he left, Katsuki’s entire table of stupid friends looked enchanted with stupid Deku.
“Ugh! Stop staring you pathetic assholes.” He grumbled.
Kyoka leveled him with a characteristic cold stare, “YOU’RE the one staring, you useless gay.”
Katsuki seethed, “Shut up, dickhead. What’s there to even stare at anways…“
“Usually I’d go to bat for you Kats but Midoriya is like… stupid pretty.” Eijirou commented and Ashido cooed in response.
“He’s like a little prince. I want to squeeze him.”
“Uraraka said he specializes in heavy equipment. Sounds right up your alley, Bakubro I don’t know how he’s not working on your stuff.”
Oh, I’d let him work on my stuff-
“Does it fucking look like I know, Shitty Hair?” He grumbled.
Eijirou smirked, “No it’s fine. I get it.”
“You don’t get shit.”
“No, no, I’m pretty sure I get it.” His smug face only got smugger and Katsuki reached across the table to put a dent in it.
And maybe if he was paying attention, he would have seen a pair of pretty “animated by Pixar” green eyes honed in on him, still calculating.
***
Here’s a sentence that Katsuki never thought he would say, much less out loud to other human beings: “If one more raggedy, ugly ass extra flirts with stupid Deku I’m going to explode my own head.”
Ashido, the villainous bitch, outright cackled. “Let- Let me get this straight.” She paused to get her wits about her, “You’re too good to make a move, but nobody else is allowed to either?”
“That’s- NO! It just fucking grosses me out. He’s Deku, he's a dweeb.”
“Yeah maybe when he was like twelve Katsuki. Now he’s Midoriya Izuku: teenage heartthrob.” Katsuki rolled his eyes but she powered on, “He’s like… okay you know that old meme? That was like ‘I’ll have your daughter home by eight’ and ‘Your daughter calls me daddy too’? Well he’s somehow both.”
“You’re a fucking disgrace.”
“Katsuki. I read an article once that called him a ‘visionary’. When’s the last time you met a 17-year-old visionary who looked like that.”
“Visionary.” He mocked.
Eijirou looked up from his textbook, “I don’t know bro. I know you’ve got this whole tsundere thing going on but you should try talking to him sometime, he’s pretty cool.”
“Deku’s not cool.”
Ashido threw up her hands, “I really don’t know what your problem is-“
“You wanna know what my fucking problem is?” His heart pounded, and a very large part of him sincerely didn’t want to dig any skeletons out of his closet, “I was a fucking asshole kid. I was a dick and I said some stupid shit and honestly, fucking honestly, if roles were reversed I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”
He didn’t even give them the time to respond. He didn’t necessarily want anyone to make him feel better; he wanted to feel like shit about it. The door slammed behind him with an air of finality. He wondered if that was the end of that.
***
Never in his life would he admit it out loud, but Bakugou Katsuki was a weak puddle of a man. He literally couldn’t refuse Izuku anything.
He was sitting across from him, tapping his pencil thoughtfully on the sketch he was making. His workshop was cluttered, but somehow also incredibly organized. Izuku must have gadgets coming out his goddamn ass on the daily.
“So what I’m thinking is,” Deku rolled his sleeves up, “To be super blunt? Your gauntlets are too heavy, you’re going to tear a fucking ligament.”
Katsuki had been decently surprised the first time he had heard goody two shoes Midoriya Izuku curse, but it was actually a pretty frequent occurrence, especially when he was somewhat stressed and frazzled like this. There was something weirdly charming about Deku when he was snappy, and boy was he snappy.
“Anyways,” Deku reached for a gauntlet and spun it around in his hands thoughtfully, “We need to come up with a more streamlined design without sacrificing the overall firepower of your gauntlets.”
It was late, unbearably late, like 3:00 in the morning kind of late. But Katsuki had begrudgingly been hurting more than usual and his summer internship was coming up sooner rather than later. Thus why he was slumped in Deku’s workshop during the fucking witching hours. “We? Or you’re just going to peer pressure me into doing whatever the fuck you want.” Katsuki grouched.
“You know that I always consider your input. I take my job seriously, Katsuki.”
That was another thing; Deku had taken to calling him by his first name more than ever. He occasionally ditched the cutesy “Kachaan” to create an air of professionalism, but all it ended up doing was disrupting Katsuki’s resting heart rate.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“Maybe I should add lead weights to these instead-“
“Oi! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Izuku leaned over the workbench menacingly and jabbed his finger in Katsuki’s chest, “I’m the only thing standing between you and shoulder surgery, so keep your voice down or so help me God, Bakugou Katsuki, I will personally install a doomsday button on your suit.”
Something about sweet Deku leaning over a workbench to threaten his life had his wires crossed all wrong. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss-
“Take it easy, Deku, no need to bite.”
Izuku got back to work toying with the gauntlets with a small frown on his face, “I don’t bite, Kachaan. I’m not feral.”
“Mmm, that seems pointed.” Katsuki fixed him with another cocky smirk and Deku tried valiantly to hide his own smile.
Katsuki lived for the back and forth. They had surprising chemistry. Had it always been this easy? Or were they barely figuring out how to be friends? Friends. Katsuki spat the word in his mind like it was poison. Izuku for some fucking reason considered him a friend, even after everything. He really was an asshole, wasn’t he? But some things had changed. It was terrifying how much you can want from a person when you don’t deserve any of it.
A shuddering sigh broke Katsuki from his thoughts and his mind refocused on a weary-looking Deku.
“You look dead on your fucking feet.”
Izuku looked offended, “What are you saying?”
Katsuki scoffed, “I’m saying go the fuck to bed. You’re tired.”
He ran a hand over his face, “Katsuki, this needs to be- hey cut it out!”
Katsuki snatched his wrist and started dragging him to the door, turning off lights as they went, “Sleep first, gauntlets later.”
He let go of Izuku’s wrist once they were out the door, but made the grave mistake of turning towards him, where he could see him a little too closely. It would have been easy to tilt his chin up, brush their lips together, and taste him. It would also be easy for Izuku to knee him in the fucking balls like he deserved. Katsuki opted for a much safer option: dismissal.
“Goodnight, nerd.” He mumbled.
“Goodnight, Kachaan.”
***
Three civilians dead, and then there was Katsuki, too weak to save any of them. What the fuck kind of hero was he supposed to be? He could have been faster, he could have been more efficient. All he could think of now was the smoke and the fire and the mind-shattering sound of an entire building being reduced to rubble. He had dug through it until his hands bled yet still there were three innocent people crushed to death by the literal weight of his incompetency. The worst tragedies are the ones that could have been avoided.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his bandaged hands. There would be a minimal amount of scarring from his injuries after Recovery Girls healing. He would have some scrapes, while others lost their lives. Pathetic.
He could still smell the dirt and smoke, but that was probably because he hadn’t bothered to change back out of his hero uniform. In some twisted way, the discomfort of remaining in his suit felt like paying a small bit of penance. He needed to change his bandages and his hands, not to mention the wrappings from the puncture wound on his side, and he no doubt needed to sleep off the post-healing drowsiness. But he was feeling both restless and completely stationary at the same time. It was the first time he witnessed multiple fatalities as a young hero, and he doubted he would ever forget the feeling.
Nobody had come to bother him about it. Uraraka had tried when he first walked in, but Eijirou put out an arm to stop her. There were some things he just needed to process alone.
A shadow moved to block some of the light filtering under his door and he heard a soft knock. Or not.
If you had told him a few years ago that he would be so utterly relieved to see Deku at his door, then he would have probably shoved a nitro-soaked hand in your face. But there he was, in a pair of sweats and a threadbare T-shirt. He said nothing as he placed his palm on Katsuki’s chest and pushed them into the room. Katsuki followed Izuku’s ministrations like a puppet. God knows Katsuki had dreamed about getting undressed by Izuku for months before this, but there was nothing sexual about Izuku peeling his clothes off here. Yet it was still incredibly intimate. Any other day, Katsuki would gnash his teeth at the gentle aid he was receiving, but right now he felt nothing, no threat to his pride and no reason to prove himself. It was odd.
He sat shirtless on the edge of the bed after pulling a worn and comfortable pair of sweats. Izuku stood in front of him, expertly rewrapping his hands before moving to replace the bandages around his middle. He could feel the warmth of Izuku’s body, and the brush of nimble fingers. There was an unspoken agreement that Izuku would be staying the night as they slipped under the covers, and Katsuki would never admit aloud that he was grateful for it.
When Izuku put his head on his chest, he knew there was no way that he didn’t hear Katsuki’s heart raced. For some reason, he hoped that Izuku understood just so he wouldn’t have to say it out loud.
“You don’t have to respond to this, but I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. And you’ll always be my hero.”
He wanted so bad to believe that was true, Izuku was no liar but he was also too nice, and much too forgiving of a person like him. If he shed a few tears after Izuku’s breathing had evened out, then that was between him and the ceiling fan.
***
“Ew, EW KATSUKI, NO! Get that away from me!” Izuku shrieked, darting across the room.
Katuki cackled, taunting him with one of Mineta’s repulsive sticky balls that had been skewered with a stick, “Come on, Deku. Do it for science-“
“NO, Kachaan you’re awful.”
“Would someone awful do… this?” He jabbed the stick outwards, missing Deku’s arm by mere inches.
“Ugh, yes!” The stick clattered to the ground and Katsuki invaded Deku’s space unintentionally. They were close. Close, close. Close enough to taste.
“Hey.” Katsuki said.
Deku breathed out, “Hey.”
“You should come to the dorm tonight. My shitty friends are throwing a party and I need someone tolerable.”
Izuku smirked, “Tolerable? Stop, you’re going to make me blush.”
“So is that a yes or…”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Katsuki licked his lips, “Great.”
***
Katsuki and his idiot friends were a solid thirty minutes late to said party, which was strange considering that they were the ones throwing it. If you asked Katsuki, he would say they were late because stupid Ashido insisted they all showed up together like some sort of shitty clique, while it took her three thousand years to wing her goddamn eyeliner. But if you asked Ashido, she would say that Katsuki had a twenty-minute gay crisis where he worried about what he would wear for the first time in his life.
“Katsuki. They are the same belt.” Eijirou observed.
Denki looked over his shoulder, “Yeah man, same belt.”
“This one,” He shook it in their faces, “HAS THREADED BORDERS. While this one,” He shook the other hand, “DOES. NOT.”
Just then, Mina flounced in along with a cloud of vanilla-scented whatever the fuck. She stopped and examined the belts in his hands, “That one babes, threaded borders are for people who don’t put on both socks before putting on their shoes.”
“Exactly.” He hissed.
She took a step back, “Ohhh Katsu! Look at you, who you tryna impress?”
“Shut up.”
Denki cupped his hands around his mouth, “Get your MANS, Blasty!”
“SHUT UP.”
Ashido sniffed, “Is that… cologne?”
“You dirty dog,” Sero mumbled.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
***
Midoriya Izuku drank like a motherfucker, not to mention he also metabolized it like a motherfucker. Over the course of a few hours Katsuki was sure that he had watched the other boy cycle between inebriation and sobriety multiple times. He threw back shots like water, it was kind of impressive. Drunk Deku was a force to be reckoned with. He had a smart fucking mouth, more than usual, and he matched Katsuki’s shit-talking like no other. The other partygoers must have been somewhat horrified seeing Bakugou Katsuki had finally met his match in chaotic energy. There might as well have been nobody else but the two of them, Katsuki thought to himself as he watched liquor drip down the column of Izuku’s throat as he tipped back another shot.
He heard murmuring from the other side of the kitchen and ripped his gaze away from Deku to see Mina pull out a bottle of tequila and grin like a devil, “Body shots, anyone?”
Deku gasped and jerked Katsuki forward, “US!”
“The fuck?!”
Izuku quirked an eyebrow with alluring confidence, “Yes us, unless you’re some kind of… bitch.”
The crowd was a chorus of ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Oh shit’s and one ‘I’m scared’ and Katsuki stepped very, very close, “Then get me a lime, Deku.”
Someone pulled a chair into the middle of the kitchen and Katsuki leaned back in it, desperately clinging to a relaxed demeanor even though he was 99% sure he was about to pop a boner in front of 30 people at the hands of the object of his affections. He placed the lime wedge between his teeth and lifted his shirt so Ashido could pour a small line of salt down his stomach. Izuku crouched between Katsuki’s spread knees, holding a shot glass of tequila and a slight blush. Katsuki clenched his fists to fight the urge to roll his eyes back into his head when Izuku’s tongue dragged up his abdomen. His heart pounded as the other boy threw back the shot and leaned over to retrieve the lime wedge from between Katsuki’s teeth. Izuku’s warm breath ghosted over his face, smelling like tequila and whatever sugary shit he had been sipping on. But his sweet, wet lips were a hairs width away, and Katsuki gripped the armrests with white knuckles.
Izuku pulled away and there was cheering and wolf whistles, but it all sounded clouded and distant. Katsuki could feel his heart pounding and the heat building underneath his skin.
“Well, well, well, Izuku. What would your mother say?” Katsuki murmured, and he wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw Izuku shiver.
Izuku wandered off, but it wasn’t long until he found Katsuki where he was sitting on the couch, and by then the party had started to wind down.
Deku grabbed his wrist and tugged, “Bedtime.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow and Deku pulled harder, “Bed. Time.”
“Are you staying with me?”
Izuku rubbed his eyes, “Yup.”
“Whatever, just don’t puke in my bed.”
Deku snorted, “What do I look like, an amateur?” But his words lost all credibility when they were a little bit slurred.
Somehow, whether by their own stealth or by the mysterious workings of Ashido Mina, they got out of the common area and up to Katsuki’s room without incident aside from the fact that at this point Katsuki was practically carrying Izuku. He figured that all those shots must have finally caught up to him.
As he dug through his dressers for something for Izuku to wear, he considered that the last time they slept in the same bed was after the incident at his internship. These were two vastly different scenarios.
Izuku was already half-naked when he turned around and Katsuki stuttered before tossing the clothes at his face, “Put this on.”
Izuku pouted and Katsuki ached, “Put your clothes on, Deku.”
“You do body shots off a guy one time and then it’s like ‘Don’t throw up in my bed, Deku’, ‘Don’t take your clothes off, Deku.” He mumbled.
Katsuki wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was the liquid courage, or the mouth-watering sight of Katsuki’s too-big sweats sitting low on Izuku’s slim waist, or the tiny self-deprecating smile on his face giving away his nerves, but Katsuki invaded Izuku’s space for the umpteenth time that night.
They were almost chest-to-chest when Katsuki gripped his chin and forced their eyes to meet, “I’m only going to say this once so listen closely.” Izuku gulped at his words but remained silent, “The only reason I’m not absolutely fucking ravishing you right now is because we’ve both been drinking, and I want you dead sober when I take you apart. You have no idea-“ Katsuki’s breath hitched and their lips were once again just a hairs width apart, “-what I want to do to you, Izuku.”
There was a tiny moment when Katsuki was afraid it would all go out the window. When he considered that Izuku had him eating out of the palm of his hand and Katsuki would do literally anything he asked him to at this moment. He wondered if Deku knew how much power he had over the situation. But Izuku was, at his core, a reasonable person with a steady head on his shoulders. He was incredibly competent in a way that Katsuki didn’t acknowledge enough. Deku wouldn’t push it, and he wouldn’t rush things.
He just smiled, like an absolute fucking angel with those dimples, “Okay Kachaan.”