Chapter Text
It was around 6:12 PM, and Izuku just arrived home after work. He closed the door with a small kick of the back of his foot, and shucked off his shoes lazily. The bag clutched in his right hand swung from his movements, bumping against his thigh. He sighed a breath of relief, finally reaching the safety and comfort of his home.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t defend himself or anything, because what use is a Pro Hero whose main job is to protect people? (Instantly, the thought of Mineta came to mind, who Izuku quickly dismissed ‘cause that was plain out rude). But in actuality, it was tiring to be out in public for the duration of the day, talking to everyone who came up to him, handling crooks who struggle and try to swindle their way out by talking too much, and so on. Especially one guy who had boasted on and on about his evil scheme to take over the metropolis or something during the afternoon, and all he needed was the money to get started so that’s why he was robbing grocery stores and old ladies, and how everyone would rue the day they looked down at him or whatever. And Izuku couldn’t do anything but drag the guy to the station any faster than he could, the idiot throwing a tantrum the closer they got, swinging his legs and crying how he just wanted get out of a job and that he was really sorry. Basically, Izuku was tired from the long day he had.
Izuku strode through the hallway of his apartment which connected to the living room, walked to the very back of where his small kitchen laid and placed the bag on the kitchen counter. Izuku had made sure to make a quick run to the convenience store to get food before making his way to the train station, consisting of instant ramen, frozen dinner plates, and an all-you-can-eat buffet of plastic that was bad for you. You know, the usual.
As much Izuku hated eating packaged food as much as the next guy, having the luxury to eat home-cooked meals everyday for most of his pubescent life, it was all that he could afford. Balancing payments and fees, paying health insurance that his agency doesn’t particularly cover as much as they should, and having a horrible sleep schedule, you can basically consider Izuku a college student. Despite him not even obtaining a degree and was instantly thrust into the palms of the cruel world before him, Izuku was severely wishing that his mom had not let him move out. But now’s not the time for that.
Izuku pulled the contents out the bag and organized them into his half-empty pantry, leaving one cup of ramen out for himself to eat. ‘Lime Shrimp Flavor. Huh.’ Izuku tore the wrapping of the package, followed the instructions of preparations, and popped it into the microwave, disregarding the label that strongly advises not to. But Izuku lives an extreme life, living on the edge that teeters between life and death, so what’s one more dangerous activity gonna do? Kill him? Probably.
Izuku stared at the countdown of the timer, leaned against the cool kitchen wall that was chipped and lacking décor, and thought about how truly bad this stuff he was about to consume was. At Yuuei, he was able to obtain a proper meal that could provide the right nutrients and energy for him. But now, crusty sandwiches, shriveled up shrimp and half-cooked ramen should do the trick. And speaking of which, the timer rang throughout the apartment, bringing Izuku away from his thoughts.
Once grabbing his warm cup, swaddling the Styrofoam container with a paper towel, Izuku carefully walked towards the living room and plopped himself down on the cushions of the couch. With his free hand, he rummaged through the crevices of the cushions while steadily holding his hot cup of salt, until he felt the plastic device that was also barely holding itself together from all the times it had been dropped. Izuku turned on the TV, which was something his mom found from a yard sale years back and was about to throw away at the dump until Izuku stopped her, and absently watched whatever came on. And by that, Izuku really just channel-surfed.
After finishing his food, Izuku stared into the cup, the seasoning all at the bottom and swirling with the remaining juice. Izuku twisted his face, the feeling of uneasiness bubbling up. Whatever that was playing on TV that Izuku had left on had now became background noise as Izuku pondered at what made this meal so different than all the other meals he had. It was the same meal, same usual place he ate it, same weird evening shows that played, but something was missing. And it left Izuku feeling lonely for some reason, as if he had always eaten it with someone. In his childhood, he spent most of his lunchtime alone, all up until highschool. But Izuku had not eaten a meal with anyone else in a while, especially since-
And that’s when it hit him. The realization hitting him with a Detroit Smash to the face that he just had a meal with someone earlier the day. A Bakugou Katsuki in particular, to be exact. Izuku had all forgotten about the event after so many other events that transpired after said event. Since he was able to eat a meal with someone, it made it all the more enjoyable. And that’s what he was missing. Izuku was all giddy again, remembering the encounter at how Kacchan had even agreed to eat with him, which, first of all, was pretty extraordinary. Kacchan had always went against Izuku’s offers, rivaling up against him at every moment. He would’ve probably even fought over the same air they breathe if it was physically possible.
Izuku smiled at that thought, and recognized the man he’d known since childhood had grown over these 2 years that Izuku hadn’t spoken to him. And man, had he changed. For starters, Kacchan had grown a stronger build, one that could compare to All Might’s physic in his younger days. And how his haircut actually showed more of his face, no longer shrouding sharp cheekbones and crimson eyes. Even the back of his head had been trimmed, revealing more of the nape of his neck. Needless to say, Kacchan’s appearance itself was a big change, and only added more to how much Kacchan had grown into a fine man. A really fine man.
Izuku wouldn’t lie, and was pretty sure everybody else wouldn’t lie either, that Kacchan was very handsome and very hot. Those who knew of the nature of the explosive man would know not to voice these statements, in order to avoid risking their lives. But it seemed that Kacchan had changed more than just his appearance alone. Izuku had seen the change himself during his reunion with Kacchan, but only now just recognized it.
Kacchan was well known for his hot-headed temper, quick to react at any sense of pity directed towards him. But now, Kacchan had seem to be open to joke around with Izuku like it was only yesterday that they last seen each other, and didn’t even yell at Izuku like he was planning on ruining his career by offering him lunch. It wasn’t that him and Izuku had ended off on a bad note once they graduated, and if anything it was the opposite. They both came to an unspoken consensus, settling past differences and focusing on their upcoming future of proper rivals and proper Pro Heroes. And although Kacchan hadn’t really voiced an apology about his behavior back then, Izuku saw that Kacchan was trying to pick up the pieces of their broken friendship, and Izuku wasn’t gonna hold it against him. But it would be nice to receive one still.
And as soon as they were somewhat able to hold a good amount of conversation that didn’t include yelling at each other, they graduated from Yuuei, breaking off contact as they began to focus on their career. And that saddened Izuku, really. He thought they would be back to square one, having to break through the awkward barrier of getting to know each other again. But Izuku was proven wrong after meeting up with Kacchan today out of the blue, and saw how he was still trying to pick up the remains. However, that didn’t erase the fact that Kacchan was acting different than Izuku would have expected him to be acting.
Izuku had noticed the little mannerisms Kacchan acted out during their little date. During Yuuei, Kacchan had stuck to himself. Well, tried to, with Kirishima and the presumptuous BakuSquad™ following Kacchan since their first year. And even then, Kacchan liked to keep his distance from them, like to keep to himself, very rarely opening to others, nonetheless being touchy. Most of the time, others that had a death wish came to Kacchan and entered his personal space, the man trying to ward them off unsuccessfully.
For instance, the only people Izuku had seen to miraculously leave unharmed (for the most part) were Kirishima and Ashido during their second year. Although he had seen Kirishima being literally thrown across the room from time to time when he caught Kacchan off guard, he was still able to get up like nothing happened. You know, hard quirk and all. The same wouldn’t be said for the many holes that riddled the walls, but a few posters and cheap IKEA furniture should do the trick to cover up the evidence while Iida was distracted. And Ashido had always been let off easily and gently surprisingly, but inevitably yelled at. Anyways, they were the usual ones to jump on Kacchan’s back, and Kacchan seemed to manage holding off two puppies. But this wasn’t the case this time.
Instead, Kacchan was the one to actually reach out to Izuku, was the one to grab a hold of his wrist to pull him away from the crowd, to flick his forehead, to pinch his cheek when Izuku spat all over him, and even leaned against Izuku for Christ sake! Oh god, Izuku was very embarrassed about that particular event. The intrusion of personal space was not unwarranted, as Izuku had dealt with the countless hugs and being used as a pillow by Uraraka when he came across her. And not even with Kacchan was it different as much either, as Kacchan liked to stoop over Izuku and tease him when they were smaller. It was the fact that he did it out of nowhere, without Izuku causing any reason for him to cause him to do it. Although that maybe was to steal his juice, he still did it. Not to mention how he didn’t react to Izuku wiping away the crumbs on Kacchan’s face, actually letting the smaller boy get close to him.
After the longest time of zoning out and looking at his cup like some weirdo, Izuku finally placed down the cup on the floor, and looked down at his hands. He remembered how soft and smooth the man’s face was, expecting it to be hard and rough. He remembered the look Kacchan made when Izuku placed his hand on his cheek, how his furrowed brows softened, how his eyes were hooded from heavy eyelids, making him look even more tired than he probably was. And after Izuku retreated his hand, Izuku noticed how Kacchan’s posture straightened up at the loss sensation, how his soft expression turned back to his firm scowl. At how Kacchan looked dejected.
‘No wonder Kacchan had seem so despondent when I left for my shift.’ Izuku muttered to no one in particular, clasping his chin with his left hand. It all made sense, now. Of all the years Izuku knew Kacchan, he never thought the man would feel lonely. Ever since daycare, Izuku had always seen the boy surrounded by friends and followers. And once his quirk developed, the numbers grew larger. Same thing happened in middle school, the numbers getting larger. High school was a bit different. Kacchan primarily focused on his studies than friends, but still wounded up making friends whether he liked it or not. And Izuku knew that after moving out from the dorms once they graduated, it would take a toll on everyone of Class-1A. They were pretty much a big family, with your mother hens and supportive dads, constipated teenagers and creepy uncle. Nonetheless, a family. The person Izuku thought that would be affected the least was Kacchan, who would always attract others around him. But that may be not so true. And Izuku felt the need to step in and help, but wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Izuku wasn’t sure if Kacchan had even hanged out with some of the students, now that he thought about it. The man had always been driven to be the best, the number one hero. And he was slowly making his way to the top, and it was pretty evident about the work Kacchan put in to make it up there. In fact, most of Class-1A was making a name for themselves, and Izuku had collected all the newspaper articles and magazines, bookmarking websites that featured them. It was amazing to see their improvements since the first day they met, and made Izuku grateful to have recorded everything about them and their quirks. Not to mention the little figurines he was able to afford with left over pocket change.
Izuku looked up from yet again zoning out and staring at his hands like a weirdo, and gazed up towards a medium-sized bookshelf that resided beside the TV that continued to play. Organized and alphabetized with name plates on 19 divided sections of the shelves laid all the merchandize he was able to get his hands on. He had most of the merchandize of Uravity, Ingenium, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and Froppy. The others not so much as they had yet to become recognized or still a work in progress, but Izuku knew they would get there! Every time Izuku looked over Invisible Girl’s section, he couldn’t help but laugh at the empty section. In a way, it was in it’s own perfectness.
But the most prominent section out of all had to be Ground Zero’s. It was absolutely decked out to the brim, nearly toppling over the edge of the shelves and would soon need to be expanded if anymore came out. Of course Izuku had purchased all of Kacchan’s merch. The man had the image of a ‘bad-boy’ persona, and of course PR knew how to fill in pockets with cash. It was pretty much expected for so many merch to be sold out, and Izuku literally had to fight for it. Like that one time he nearly ripped the merch from some teenage girl’s hands accidentally, but felt bad and gave her the item in the end. Luckily, after swaying the employee and low-key name dropping his high school, Izuku was able to get some of the remaining stock in the back. Some were limited edition, and hell would he miss the opportunity to support his friend. That’s what Izuku kept telling himself anyway.
Izuku got up from the sofa and walked over to the bookshelf, nearly kicking the ramen noodle cup. Izuku gently picked out one of the figurines of Ground Zero, examining it and twisting it around his fingers for the hundredth time. The pose was set into Kacchan flexing his hands, how he would when about to enable his quirk, and had his signature smirk. Some of the stuff he was able to get were from subscription box services, like Heroes-R-Us, and sometimes he had to go to conventions when time allowed.
Speaking of time, it was already 8:43 PM, and Izuku would have to go to bed in a bit. Even growing up old had messed up his sleep schedule, but in a good kind of way. Which was weird. But Izuku still began to put away trash and settle for the night, preparing for another day of work tomorrow.
⸗
It was at exactly 6:33 AM when Katsuki woke up, 27 minutes earlier than his alarm. He tiredly draped his arm above his eyes, shielding away the beams of sunlight that peered through his shitty curtains. Letting out ragged breaths as he slowly began to wake up, Kastuki grunted out a few curses as he sat up straight and leaned against the armrest of the couch. His back always ached every time he slept on the rickety sofa, the wood frame creaking at every movement when he tousled during the night, no matter how many times he crashed on it.
When Kacchan got up from the couch, his joints popping satisfyingly, his feet landed on the blanket he had originally covered himself with. But living in a studio that had a constantly breaking A/C, Katsuki had began to throw things in his sleep, whether it be his blanket or pillow to reduce the pent up heat. Kacchan headed towards the bathroom that ended down the hallway on the right of his living room. His place for the most part was dark, save for the plethora of nightlights that were sporadically placed. Katsuki guided himself by propping his hand against the wall, and trudged through the bathroom door.
He then went about his business of hygienic purposes, and exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his head and lower body. Even in his own home does Katsuki not walk around naked like a lunatic. In his makeshift bedroom, he rummaged through the contents of a plastic drawer organizer, taking out his maroon boxers and a white tank top and putting them on. Katsuki ruffled the towel on his head, and dropped it on the arm rest of the couch.
Katsuki then when about cleaning up the mess he left when he came home yesterday. He first folded the blanket that was on the ground and put it on the other side of the couch. He then fixed and fluffed up the pillows and presented them nicely as if he didn’t sleep on his couch every night. Next, he picked up the plate and cup he left out on his coffee table and headed towards the kitchen, placing them in the sink. Katsuki turned around and opened the fridge, taking out the eggs and milk.
Opening up the cupboard that was closest to the right of him, he took out a ceramic bowl. He placed that on the kitchen counter and then bent down to the cupboards and rummaged for a pan and pot. He placed both of them on the stove, filling up the pot with water and setting it to boil. Katsuki went to his well-filled pantry and searched for the bag of rice. He measured out 1 cup of and began to wash it through a sifter, rinsing off the remains of starch. After that, he added the rice to the pot, seasoning it with a bit of salt and pepper, and stirred. Covering the pot with the lid and reducing the heat to low, he set that aside and began to work on the eggs.
Katsuki grabbed two large eggs, cracking both of them with one hand to show off to no one in particular. He just likes to see that he still got it. Katsuki grabbed a fork from the drying rack and began to whisk rigorously. While whisking, Katsuki added a bit of milk and a pinch of salt and pepper to the mixture. Katsuki turned his attention to the stove and turned it on for the pan, adding a bit of oil to the center. Once it heated up, he added the egg mixture, stirring constantly with his cooking chopsticks. Katsuki scraped against the bottom of the pan, and turned off the stove for the pot once his rice was ready. He then scooped the rice in to the pan and continued stirring, and turned off the stove once he was done with everything.
Plating everything into the ceramic bowl, garnishing with fresh parsley, he was done with his eggs and rice with a few leftovers. Not much, but it had been a while since Katsuki got to eat a freshly cooked meal in a while. Katsuki continued to eat in silence, checking the news on his phone and stuffing his face with food. It was now around 8 AM, and Katsuki still had errands to do.
But a promise was a promise, and he would have to prep Deku’s lunch before he could do any errands. He decided to use the leftovers of his breakfast, adding a side of vegetables and protein, as well as a bit of soy sauce on the side to add and some avocado slices, cause that shit tastes good. And yet again, Katsuki set to work. Katsuki enjoyed cooking, if it weren’t any more obvious. Cooking was like any other task Katsuki set himself to do, and that required a strategic plan on going about things. And like most other things that he did, it distracted him from thoughts of whatever happened yesterday.
As Katsuki prepped the meal, he began to reminisce about yesterday’s event, completely forgoing whatever he just thought to not think about. He had arrived home quite late, even after being let off after lunch hour. He continued to stay on top of the random building’s roof, looking down at the city goers that trampled over each other. For some fucking reason, he thought it was a great idea to stay till around 5:32 PM and almost missed the train that he needed to get to just look at the fucking sunset.
But he didn’t want to leave, for some reason. Whatever it was, staring off into the peach colored sky with streaks of yellow had made him feel warm. And Katsuki thought he was getting sick from the fries he stole from shitty Deku. Asshole. Fucking spitting at him. No, better yet, he thought he was feeling all warm and shit because of shitty Deku fucking spitting at him. That would explain the warm feeling he always gets around Deku, the ass always getting him angry and shit. Katsuki couldn’t believe he almost forgot about that. Asshole deserved to lose his juice box. He couldn’t believe that he fucking agreed to owe him back. What the fuck was up with that? Well whatever. As much as Katsuki wanted to fuck up Deku’s lunch by sabotaging it by replacing the avocado with wasabi, he sadly wasn’t carrying any on him. And Katsuki never half—shits anything.
Once Katsuki was done setting up everything in an orange bento box, he placed the box inside a brown paper bag and set it to the side. He decided to take it to Deku at 11:40 AM, so he still had a bit of time. Katsuki then began to get dressed for the day, deciding on wearing a black hoodie and baggy torn jeans, which were cuffed at the ends and tucked into worn-out combat boots, and put on sunglasses to hide his identity. Katsuki grabbed the laundry basket he tucked away in the corner of the bathroom, and grabbed his keys while on his way out. After descending the flight of stairs that lead to the 1st floor, Katsuki forgot the fucking lunch like a fucking idiot and when his way back up like a chump.
⸗
After washing and drying his laundry, folding every piece of clothing neatly into a pile of their designated category of articles, Katsuki tried to kill time that was remaining till he headed out to Deku’s agency. Only one teeny weeny teensy problem came up: he fucking forgot to ask the fucking nerd where his agency is. And to top it off, he fucking didn’t have the fuck’s number after upgrading. So things were going great.
In a slight panic, Katsuki face palmed at both of their idiocy (they were both at fault here to be quite honest so they were a team on this) and remembered that he could just look it up. One good thing about being fucking well known. And this time, his phone wasn’t about to die, so good on him for getting his life together. After looking up the nerd and being bombarded of the many articles about his villain haul of the week and fan edits that really focused on his work uniform, specifically his biceps. Katsuki quickly clicked on the link that led to the official website of Deku’s hero agency, not allowing himself to indulge any longer on the search engine.
Retrieving the information of the address Katsuki needed, Katsuki grabbed his shit and headed out. He placed the laundry basket in the trunk of the used-car, and drove to the parking lot of the agency. It was around 11:42 AM when he got there, and proceeded to enter through the doors of the building, carrying the brown lunch bag in his left hand.
Katsuki was greeted by the secretary in the front, smiling with her customer service smile and asking in a shrilly voice what Katsuki needed.
“Is Deku here? He has some shit.”
“I’m sorry sir. I can’t let out the schedule of employees that work here, nor items, to the public. You will need to schedule an appointment if you-“
Katsuki rolled his eyes and let out a harsh sigh. “Ugh, no I don’t need to do that shit.” The brown bag was roughly slammed onto the reception desk, startling the secretary. “I fucking know the idiot, I just came to drop this shit off.”
“Oh, you must be Ground Zero, sir. My apologies.” She said nonchalantly, looking up and down at the taller man, then looking at her desktop and typing away.
“What the fuck does that mea-“
“Deku-sir should be off his shift in a few minutes. You can wait in the lobby and I will notify you when he calls in, sir.”
“Well,” Katsuki growled out, not wanting to ruin his day off because of some attitude. “Can’t you just give me his damn contact info?”
“Again sir, it’s against work policy. I’m not allowed to release that information.” Secretary Lady said again in that fucking shrilly voice.
“Alright listen, I-“
“Kacchan!”
‘Why the fuck does everyone keep fucking cutting me off?’
Sneakers squeaked underneath the linoleum surface of tile as Deku ran up to Katsuki, enveloping him in a tight hug, nearly bringing the both of them to the floor.
“Argh! Fu- Dek-“ Katsuki gargled, the tight embrace from the brusque man cutting off the airway to his lungs. All the while Secretary Lady stared off awkwardly onto the scene, not sure of what to do now she was set to the side.
“Kacchan! Why are you here?!”
‘…What.’