Chapter Text
It was around 1:32 AM when Katsuki got off his shift from patrol. By now, the train station would be closed at midnight, and in Katsuki’s luck in filling out paperwork about the latest villain catch of the night that took an extra hour longer of his shift, he would have to walk home. And changing in the locker rooms of the agency late in the night was always an enjoyable thing as you get to enjoy the quietness of little to no interaction with other extras, but only when you had a source of fucking transportation.
Showering after chasing assholes all day, throwing punches and post boxes at said assholes, caked in sweat, blood, and someone else’s sweat and blood, was the most relaxing thing to end the day with, in Katsuki’s opinion. But it was also a damn pain when you fucking have to walk back home, which was a 45-minute walk. So things were going just great.
As Katsuki wrapped a towel around his head lazily, remaining droplets of water trickling down his chin, he opened his locker and checked his phone.
20 percent left.
No new messages.
‘Ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. Fuck me.’
After cursing up a storm for being so stupid to not charge his phone, Katsuki changed into his civilian clothing aggressively, shucking off his towel in the process, which fell to the floor with a wet slap that echoed throughout the room. Slipping into his shoes and picking up the damp towel, Katsuki headed towards the backdoor exit of the facility, throwing the towel into the locker room hamper.
Walking into the crisp early morning air was something after being shrouded in clouds of steam of the stuffy lockers. That was the least decent thing out of this whole situation. And to top it off, Katsuki had luckily brought his headphones to work by mistake in place of his phone charger in the early morning madness of waking up. So without further ado, Katsuki walked across the field towards the sidewalk, beneath the streetlight lamps gazing through the fog of darkness, while listening to his playlist that could last his phone battery.
Once Katsuki arrived home to his apartment and closed the door behind him, he half-heartedly threw his backpack against the cushions of the sofa. By now, it was 2:25 AM and Katsuki had no wish to cook morning-dinner so late, all his energy spent from the day’s work. But fuck was he fucking hungry.
Katsuki sauntered over to the kitchen, hunched over the fridge as he rummaged through condiments and copious amounts of Tupperware that were stacked. He decided to eat yesterday’s leftovers, stir fry vegetables with fried rice, and popped it in the microwave. As much as Katsuki hates eating leftovers just as much as the next guy, this would have to do.
Once the timer was done, Katsuki ate the last of the leftovers of his meal in silence, leaning against the cold kitchen countertop. After he was done, he placed the dishes under running water, rinsing the remains of rice and sauce. Katsuki then turned off the water faucet, rubbing his cold, wet hands against his pant legs.
He sluggishly reached into his room, which was really his living room, seeing how his apartment was actually a small studio, and dropped dead onto the mattress-like couch. He laid his head on his backpack, closed his eyes, ready for his well-earned sleep.
For a while, it was quiet. Only the buzzing of electronics could be heard, the refrigerator running, one of the nightlights plugged in flickering beside the couch. And that’s when he noticed the uncomfortable sensation of protruding items from his backpack poking his head through the material. He shoved the backpack to the floor and replaced it with an actual pillow from the couch, pulling the blanket that was folded over the armrest over himself in the process. Finally settling in, arms bent behind his head, he laid there, staring up at the ceiling.
It had been 2 years since he graduated from Yuuei. 2 years had easily passed by, in which had Katsuki earned his name, Ground Zero, gaining the reputation and respect he had worked hard for. And during those years, he was able to afford a place of his own. His parents offered to buy him his own place, as a graduation gift, but Katsuki declined. He needed to prove to himself that he worked hard for what he wanted, and having others do the work for him would be pointless.
It was not too shabby, it was closer to work, and it was a place to sleep. Despite being a small studio, it seemed vastly big with little to no furniture in place. When Katsuki moved out, his parents insisted on bringing some of his belongings to his new flat. ‘It’ll make it homier, brat’, his mom had said. ‘So you won’t feel homesick!’ his father chimed in. Katsuki only agreed so they would stop bugging him, and took some posters from his room, his desk, wall mount bookshelves, dishware his parents given to him, and the photo album his friends had given to him.
Katsuki turned his head to the coffee table he purchased from a thrift store and eyed the maroon-leather album. Katsuki stretched out his arm closest to the table, nearly toppling over the edge, but thanks to his amazing hero skills, he was able to steady himself and get the book. Brilliant.
Katsuki had remembered earlier in the day to put away the album, but it slipped his mind when he rushed to work. He had slept in from the previous day and was 5 minutes late. Guess watching late-night reruns was a bad idea, but fuck Katsuki for living a little extreme.
Katsuki ran his fingers along the edge of the laminated pages and opened the cover, the spine creaking like it was brand new. The first page contained the picture of Katsuki, who was unbeknownst of a picture being taken, as a first year. Katsuki internally cringed. His hair was an absolute mess. How dare his parents let him go out in public like that. He fucking looked like a dandelion. And though he had been working out, he still had remaining baby fat on his cheeks. Man, had he changed since then. Underneath the picture was a hand-written note, undoubtedly Pinky’s due to the little doodles and actual nice handwriting out of the whole group.
‘Our Baby Baku’s First Year!’
At the time, Katsuki had let out a ferocious groan when he first read that, but know it made him let out a small laugh. Katsuki turned to the next page, and a picture of Class-1A sprawled across most of the page. Katsuki stared at all the familiar faces, and how much they’ve grown seeing only a few of them while at work. Especially nerd Deku, who changed the most out of the whole class. He no longer had full, chubby cheeks and almost had Katsuki’s physic, but still had less broad shoulders than him. The biggest change was the fucking haircut he got, which thank fucking god he decided to get a different hairstyle from the one he had all these years. But Katsuki hasn’t spoken to the nerd since they graduated, only seeing the many front covers of magazines and articles of him. With everyone as pros, it was hard to make hang outs with their constantly changing schedules. Not to mention, most of the class had moved to different cities that best fitted their quirks.
After 2 years, things had really taken a toll on him. From living in a dorm with 19 other people to living in a studio by himself, having only going to work and little to no time to hang out with friends, Katsuki was growing more and more agitated towards others. Mainly villains, but with PR insisting going on to talk-shows and autograph sessions, Katsuki would often decline.
Katsuki had rarely done these, but after interning at Best Jeanist, he grew more acceptable towards it. He once viewed it as stupid and a waste of time, that only his job of protecting citizens and his skills should be good enough. But once you were thrown into the world of kicking ass, it becomes an average thing to society. Fans crave more than just fighting lowlifes, and that’s what pays, sadly. But Katsuki could not handle going out in public to sit there and look fucking pretty for the life of him. All in all, it was boring! Even during talk shows, where he was fed lines by his management on what to say to boost his views. Not to mention to see his crowds of fans bustling towards him, going over the line and shoving each other to just ogle at him. It was tiring, to say the least.
Katsuki sighed, closed the album and placed it back on the coffee table. With heavy-lidded eyes, he resumed back to his original position at looking up at the ceiling. Something lingered within Katsuki, a feeling of forgetting something. It had appeared after he moved out of his parent’s place. He made sure he brought the necessities, checked twice even. But he had everything. Katsuki had pushed the feeling away, always had when fighting enemies, always had when cooking, always had to bring distractions. But on nights like these, they become clear once again. And Katsuki couldn’t fucking figure out what was it that he was missing.
So like many other times, Katsuki distracted himself with the notion of dozing off instead.
⸗
It was about 11:45 AM and Izuku was heading off to lunch. Izuku had just gotten off from his patrol, still in his work uniform, and headed towards McDonald's. Izuku was scolding himself for forgetting his bento at home, in his rush off to work for waking up late. Not to mention, Izuku had only loose change in his pockets, so something small would have to suffice to help him get through the day. So things were going great.
It had been 2 years since he graduated, and Izuku is barely managing. Why did his mom let him even think moving out was a good idea? As much as Izuku felt like it was a first step into becoming an adult, Izuku had barely managed to wake up at ungodly hours for shifts. He had been so used to waking up at the time he always did for school, but with the constant changing of his schedule, his inner clock was in disarray. Not to mention, his home would hardly be called a home if it weren’t for the many posters and memorabilia Izuku taken with him. But as always, Izuku would pull through, seeing through the test of things, no matter the cost. And that would soon be his downfall, as he strode up to the entrance door, ordering anything that was under the budget in his pocket, which was obviously detrimental to his health, and exited quickly before anybody had actually recognized him.
‘Thank god for my plain looks.’
As Izuku bustled through the incoming crowd, he had to speak so soon. Of course, someone had to do a double-take and shout his name, garnering the attention of everyone in a 5-mile radius, asking if he was the hero Deku. And of course, Izuku replied with a humble yes, clinging his lunch to his chest, as if it were a shield. And after 2 years, Izuku was not used to the media attention as a Pro Hero. Many others had come up towards him, asking him for an autograph, and all Izuku wanted was to eat his crusty, flat sandwich in peace.
“Oi, move your ass or I’ll do it myself,” a voice roared from behind the crowd, gaining the attention of everyone who was unluckily in their path, meaning Izuku’s. From the all the heads in the way of Izuku’s vision, all he could see was spiky, fluffy ash blond hair. A bright smile bloomed across Izuku face and stood on the tip of his tippy toes.
“Kacchan! Over here!”
Izuku saw Kacchan’s head turn up at the voice, his eyes meeting crimson red ones. And Izuku’s smile grew bigger. It had been so long since he last seen Kacchan! And he looked way different compared to all the news sites he read of him. Izuku made his way towards Kacchan, his lunch bag clutched between the grasp of his hand and torso.
As he reached Kacchan, the taller blond simply grabbed his wrist and shoved through the crowd, pulling Izuku behind him.
“Wha- wait, Kaccha- ah! Sorry! Excuse me!” Izuku shrilled out as he was dragged, apologizing to a passerby he accidentally shoved. After Kacchan had dragged Izuku to what looked like a secluded area in an alleyway, he abruptly stops, causing Izuku to bump into his back.
“Oof! Kacchan! What was that?” Izuku questioned, rubbing the front of his nose.
Kacchan looked down at Deku, the same scowl he carried from all the years Deku knew him in place. “What kind of question is that? Obviously just saved you,” he nonchalantly replied. Kacchan was wearing his work uniform just like Deku, but he looked more like a mess. There where prominent eye bags under his eyes, his hair messier than usual, and his uniform crinkled in certain places. And most obvious of all, he hadn’t let go of Izuku’s wrist.
Kacchan had noticed too, looking at what Izuku’s gaze was directed to, and let go in place of crossing his arms over his chest.
“What are you doing here, Deku? Do you want to get stampeded over?” he barked out accusingly. He looked down to what Izuku held in his hands. “What the fuck? McDonald's, seriously?”
Izuku jumped and flustered out “W-well, I forgot my lunch at home, Kacchan, so I had to get this instead ‘cause it was all I could afford!” It was his turn and looked accusingly towards Kacchan, pointing a finger towards him.
“B-besides, why do look like that?” Izuku made sure to look up and down over Kacchan’s appearance to emphasize his point further.
“Like what?” Kacchan growled out with no real threat in his voice.
“Like you hadn’t gotten enough sleep! You look exhausted!”
“Well, that’s cause I am. I-” Kacchan cut off his sentence, looking in the crowd that was becoming thicker by the minute. He looked like he was about to leave, but Izuku had just barely created a conversation with him! Not to mention, he hardly got to see the rest of the class, and Kacchan was the hardest to get a hold of. So, before Izuku ran out of time, he blurted out what first came to mind.
“Kacchan, would you like to eat lunch with me?” He gave him his most not-obvious puppy dog eyes in hopes of swaying him further. Kacchan peered down quizzically at Izuku, contemplating whether to stay or go.
“I don’t have my own lunch, nerd. How can I have lunch?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow to challenge Izuku further of coming up with an excuse.
“Um,” oops, he forgot about that. “You could have my fries!” he snapped his fingers in victory.
Kacchan chuckled, flicking the top of Izuku’s forehead as he walked away from him, climbing the escape latter to the roof of the building.
“Better not regret that, nerd!”
Izuku laughed and ran after Kacchan, his McDonalds bag in his mouth as he climbed up the latter. Once Izuku reached the top, Kacchan had already sat near the ledge, his legs draped over the side of the building.
Izuku situated himself next to Kacchan on his right, crossing his legs to cradle his lunch, his knees bumping against Kacchan’s thigh. Izuku opened the bag and rummaged through the contents, pulling out his squashed burger and fries. He handed over the fries to Kacchan, still looking rummaging around the bag, the tips of their fingers grazing through the transaction. Izuku had pulled out his small juice box of orange juice, as well as the little toy that came with the Kid’s meal.
“Seriously, a kid’s meal?” Katsuki asked with a mouthful of fries.
“It was all I could afford Kacchan!”
“You just wanted the damn toy, just admit it.”
Uh oh, Izuku was caught.
“A-anyways, you didn’t finish saying what you were about to say!” Izuku brought up in hopes of changing the topic.
“Oh, yeah. I had to fill in for someone, but I had just got off my shift, so I’m running on 3 hours of sleep.” Kacchan continued to pick more at his fries, disregarding the soggy ones.
“Kacchan! That’s terrible! Are you okay?” Izuku asked concernedly, chewing his burger as he gazed up at him.
“Hm, it’s not much. At least I get off of work tomorrow.” Katsuki had resorted to eating the soggy fries, already finishing the crunchy ones and the hunger in his stomach wanting more.
“Wow, really? You’re so lucky!” Izuku shouted around a mouthful of food, accidentally spitting specks of food at Kacchan’s face.
‘Oh shit.’
“Ah! Sorry Kacchan!” Without thinking, Izuku reached his hand towards Kacchan’s right cheek, thumbing off the crumbs. Realizing what he had just done, Izuku stopped mid-clean, and quickly retreated his hand. To his surprise, Kacchan hadn’t reacted hostile and start yelling at Deku, and instead looked shocked, eyes widened. But soon reverted back to his usual fierce gaze, clicking his tongue.
“Shitty Deku, don’t speak while eating!” Katsuki had rubbed off the last crumb on his cheek. He then reached over towards Deku, pinching his left freckled cheek.
“Ah! Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” Izuku cried, a futile attempt to get the man off of him. In his moment of being caught off guard, Katsuki had leaned over him, his shoulder against Izuku’s chest, his right cheek hovering above Izuku’s lips. Izuku stiffened at the close proximity, his breath hitched in his throat as he stared down at the man who had never gotten so close before. And that’s when he noticed he lost his juice box.
“Kacchan! That’s mine!” Izuku cried out like he was 4-years old again, his face a bright red from the previous action that transpired moments before.
“Too bad, nerd. Should’ve not talked with your mouth full and I’m thirsty as fuck.” And the remaining citrusy-orange fluid was gulped down, right before Izuku’s eyes.
“Kacchan, you’re mean!” Izuku pouted, forcing himself to tear up for dramatic effect, a final blow.
“Deku, you’re a grown ass man crying over a juice box.”
A final blow that was a critical miss.
“Still, I was saving the best part for last, I’ll have you know.” Izuku crumpled the trash bag into a tight ball, throwing it over the edge. He then crossed his arms, twisting his body so he wouldn’t look at Kacchan in his peripheral vision.
“Deku, that’s fucking littering!” Kacchan shouted, pointing at the direction the bag was thrown.
“Not if you throw it in the trash bin it’s not!” Izuku shouted back, twisting his head at Kacchan, anguish and hurt expression set in place.
“You didn’t make it in- oh shit you did.” Kacchan was surprised that the nerd actually made it in, holy shit.
Kacchan looked back the pouty nerd, who still twisted his body away from him.
“Fine, I’ll make it up to you.” Kacchan groaned, rubbing the back his neck in defeat.
“There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me forgive you for the traitorous act you’ve committed.” Izuku lied.
“I mean, I was gonna make you lunch tomorrow, but if nothing is gon-“
“You’re gonna make me lunch, Kacchan?!” Izuku had grappled the taller man by the shoulders, beaming brightly up at him. “Your cooking is always delicious! Please Kacchan, can you?” Izuku pleaded.
“Fine, fine, to repay for the traitorous act that I’ve committed. But only this once!” Kacchan rolled his eyes at the high pitch squeal that erupted out of Izuku.
Izuku removed his hands from Kacchan’s shoulders, clapping them together at another victory. “Alright then! It’s settled! Oh, but where would you give me it?”
“I’ll just stop by your agency, duh.” Katsuki shrugged his shoulders.
Oh. Izuku had enjoyed the company he had while eating a meal. It had been so long that he’d eaten with someone, nonetheless with Kacchan. Again, Izuku pulled out the ‘not-obvious puppy dog eyes’ card.
“Will you be eating with me Kacchan?”
Kacchan looked at Izuku with the same contemplative look as before, his eyes grazing over Izuku’s features.
“Sure,” Kacchan said, a smug grin spreading across his face, accepting another defeat, “why not?”
And yet again, Izuku let out a tiny squeal of success, pumping his hand in the air. “Great, Kacchan! I’ll see you then!” Izuku got up from his spot next to Kacchan, beginning to walk across the ledge parallel from them, where he would then head back to the location of his patrol. Kacchan grunted after him, his own way of saying bye.
Izuku looked back at Kacchan, wanting to say one last final goodbye, but stopped when he saw the disgruntled look on his face. He could see Kacchan’s eyes glazed over as he looked down at the busy street below him, lost in thought.
Izuku was concerned but was also going to be late for his shift. So, he made sure to remember to ask Kacchan what was wrong the next day and hope that he can get an answer. And with that, he leaped off the roof to the next, leaving Kacchan to himself.