Chapter Text
Katsuki was zipping up his pants, shaking the post-coital lethargy away, fighting the urge to go back to bed and sleep here in Izuku’s apartment instead of going home to his, halfway across the city.
“Kacchan?” Izuku said from the bed.
Katsuki threw him a look before pulling his shirt on. “What?”
“I know we’re not dating,” Izuku said. He was sitting up, still naked, half covered by the rumpled sheets. “I know we said this is just, you know, sex. But it’s been 6 years? I thought I’d ask if you maybe wanted to make this thing between us more… more.”
Izuku shrugged his shoulders, failing to come up with the correct words.
“What are you saying? You wanna be my boyfriend, Deku?” Katsuki asked, fixing his belt, frowning down at his childhood friend, rival and fuck buddy.
Izuku did another helpless, uneasy gesture. “I mean, yeah? Would that be so bad? To be together together?”
They had been fucking since their last year in UA. They were friends; good friends — but it was no kind of relationship. They saw each other regularly, more often than any of Katsuki’s other friends. But they’d also go days, weeks, without seeing each other; busy with their own lives and hero work.
No commitment, no expectations.
Katsuki frowned down at Izuku, unsure where this conversation is heading; why they’re even having it in the first place.
“We barely see each other as it is. How the fuck are we going to have time for that?”
It wasn’t that Katsuki disliked Izuku. Far from it.
Izuku was probably his closest friend; one of the most important persons in his life. Arguably the most important — definitely the one who knows him best. The fact that they fuck when they get the chance was just bonus, a side benefit they’ve been enjoying since they were teenagers and raging with hormones and adrenaline.
But they were both busy, working their way up the hero ranking. Right now, Ground Zero was almost there, he can taste it. He was #4 in the most recent poll. Deku was lower in the ladder at #8. But they are the only two their age in the Top 10 and it’s an impressive feat in itself.
“Other people do it. We just need to want to,” Izuku said softly.
“The only thing I want right now, Deku, is that #1 spot.”
Katsuki was 23 years old. He’s a not an abrasive, insensitive teenager anymore. He made sure his words were firm, but matter-of-fact. Not sneering, not dismissive.
He liked Izuku; but he wanted that #1 spot more.
He had been prepared for tears. Pro hero or not, Izuku still cried all the time. Happy tears, sad tears, tears of relief or disappointment; always wearing his heart on his sleeve and any overflow of emotions was directly connected to his tear ducts.
But Izuku’s eyes remained dry. Solemn. The corners of his lips instead lifted in a small smile.
In a flash of memory, he recalled being 7 years old — Izuku 3 months younger telling him his father won’t be coming home for his birthday yet again. And while Izuku would cry for dragonflies caught in spiderwebs, he had been dry-eyed then; the smile on his lips brittle and brave.
“Why are you bringing this up? Do you want us to stop? You wanna see someone else?” Katsuki asked.
He had to unclench hands that had somehow formed into fists; had to take a deep breath to calm himself; his heart suddenly pounding hard in his chest, making blood roar in his ears.
“No, Kacchan,” Izuku said, the odd smile turned into something more familiar and the expression in his eyes became self-deprecating. “There’s no one else I’d rather fuck. I just thought I’d ask. I didn’t want us to be that kind of couple. Tiptoeing about something, turns out they want the same thing but never talked about it. I just wanted to be sure, that’s all.”
Katsuki nodded slowly. “We’re sure.”
Izuku just smiled back.
“Are we good?” Katsuki asked, unable to shrug off the feeling that there was something amiss.
Izuku nodded. “Always.”
With a last searching look at Izuku, Katsuki left, locking the front door behind him, unaware of the fate he chose for himself.
_________________________
In the silence of his apartment, Izuku reached for his work phone on the bedside table. It was late, almost midnight, but he made the call anyway.
“I’ll do it,” Izuku said as soon as the call was picked up, his voice quiet in its resolve.
There was, at first, silence on the other end; as if they had been sleeping and just now woken up.
“I didn’t think you’d decide so soon,” Gran Torino finally responded.
“Someone has to do it.”
“You sure about this? We don’t know when you’d be able to return.” The thought ‘if you can return’ unsaid between them.
Izuku nodded, despite that Gran Torino can’t see him. “All the other candidates have family, people they have to leave behind. It might as well be me.”
“Midoriya, you do have people who care about you —“
“You know what I mean,” he said, cutting Gran Torino off, sounding more weary than impatient. “My mom is gone, and All Might will understand.”
“If you’re sure —“
“I’m sure.”
“Alright, you have 3 days to settle your affairs. It’s not a lot of time but if you’re sure, then we might as well use the window we have.”
“Alright.”
“Midoriya-kun? What about Bakugou-kun?”
Izuku settled back on the pillows. He closed his eyes as the sweet burnt scent wafts around him, cradling him in its phantom embrace.
“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll miss him.”
_________________________
Izuku left on a Tuesday. Katsuki wasn’t there.
He had been tied up with his own hero work: an important raid on an illegal quirk-boosting-drug factory. He left his personal phone in his locker and didn’t see the call until well after Tuesday was over, and Izuku long gone.
He left him a voice message.
[Hi, Kacchan. I’m being deployed on a long-term mission. I’ll be… umm, it’s far away. Too far for me to stay in contact. I know you’re working but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. And to wish you good luck! Not that you need it! To me, Kacchan is always the best hero. The rest of the world just needs a little more time to see it.]
A pause. A soft, barely audible sigh.
[I wish I could have seen you one more time, Kacchan… I… I’ll see you when I see you. Stay safe.]
Katsuki listened to the message. He showered, dressed and went home. He pulled up the message again once he was in bed — listened to it one more time.
He’ll just tell Izuku about the raid the next time they see each other.
_________________________
The first world Izuku transported to was much the same like his home world. Except for one thing: it didn’t have a Midoriya Izuku.
The limitation of the world-travel was that he cannot go to a place where he already was, cannot displace himself. He can only go where he was never born.
Izuku didn’t have specific directives; mainly to observe and report. He won’t have any support, any kind of back-up; which was why pro hero Deku was the ideal candidate for it: he’s powerful enough to take care of himself in case of trouble.
So when he found himself in a new world where he didn’t previously exist, with vague instructions to ‘observe’, well, he went and observed Bakugou Katsuki.
It was still a world of quirks and superhumans. He was still in Japan. And Ground Zero was still magnificent to watch in action.
He tried to stay in the sidelines, checking that the heros-on-the-scene can handle it. He recognized most of them and smiled to see his friends; wondered about the others. He helped herd civilians away when the fighting becomes intense.
But one day, the villain came hurtling through the air, smacked on the side of a building, and the whole thing threatened to crumble at the impact. Izuku stabilized the load-bearing post and held the building up until the people sheltering under it could run away.
The incident happened on some side street, away from the main action, and it wasn’t caught on camera. But someone did see it. When the dust cleared and the villain was apprehended, Izuku found himself face to face with this world’s Ground Zero.
There was very little difference between this man and the one he left behind, and Izuku couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that flooded him.
“Saw you earlier,” Ground Zero said, looking Izuku up and down. “Useful quirk you have.”
Izuku was in civilian clothes: jeans, shirt, and light jacket; a backpack that carried everything he owned in this world. He wasn’t a pro hero here but he still looked like one. It has been a long time since he’d been small and scrawny.
“It has its uses. But how often do you need to prop up a building?” Izuku said, smiling brightly at Ground Zero.
He even sounded like his Kacchan. Ultimately though, it was the differences that intrigued Izuku. Who is this Bakugou Katsuki?
“You probably get asked this a lot, but do you want to meet up later? After your shift? I can tell you more about my quirk. I saw a place about two blocks from here, they have great mabo tofu,” Izuku said, smiling disarmingly.
Maybe Izuku shouldn’t have been using his knowledge of his own Kacchan like this but he wasn’t here to call Izuku out on it. A powerful quirk, healthy food at the end of a long day, and after 6 years of sex, Izuku knew first hand that Katsuki found him attractive enough.
Ground Zero smirked at him, the one that cameras all over Japan tried their best to capture. “Sure, why not.”
Dinner went smoothly. Izuku was fascinated and Ground Zero was interested.
“Do you want to take this someplace else?” Ground Zero finally asked, his intentions clear.
Izuku said yes and was riding a high until he realized that Ground Zero was not bringing him over to his place. They ended up at a love motel, the room paid for 4 hours.
He was some stranger that Ground Zero picked up for the night; of course he wasn’t going to bring Izuku to his home. They’ve had PR lectures about this. A pro hero’s privacy is important.
This was not his Kacchan, and he wasn’t his Deku. Even if he looked like him, sounded like him, smelled like him so much it made Izuku ache with memories.
Izuku took the hurt, balled it up, and shoved it neatly away.
The sex was hot. It always was between them. And he’d had years of experience to make sure it was the best fuck Ground Zero ever had in his life.
“I don’t usually do people more than once but that’s worth another shot,” Ground Zero smirked down at Izuku, already putting his shirt back on. “You said you’re gonna be in town for a while. Wanna give me your number? We can do this again.”
“Sure, Ground Zero-san.”
When Ground Zero left, Izuku was painfully aware that he didn’t invite Izuku to call him by name.
_________________________
The next time was even better. They talked about quirks over dinner long enough that Ground Zero had actually laughed, making people in the nearby tables look their way. It wasn’t often that the Explosive Hero was seen laughing in public.
“You don’t look like it, but you’re really a nerd!” he said still chuckling.
“It’s not a crime to be interested in quirks,” Izuku huffed with mock indignation.
They ended up in a different love motel and had sex twice. The first was a frenzied coupling the moment they got inside the door; the second, a more leisurely fuck that allowed Ground Zero time to explore Izuku’s heated freckled skin.
It was gratifying to see Ground Zero at least appear reluctant to leave, but it was getting late and the 4 hours was almost over.
“See you around, Midoriya,” he said, as he finally left.
Izuku didn’t have patrol tomorrow, didn’t have anywhere to be, had no one waiting in the small apartment he rented by the week. He called down to reception and asked for the room hours to be extended.
He slept there that night, amid the heavy scent of sex and Katsuki. It almost felt like home.
_________________________
Izuku spent his days observing, sending back data. Some nights, Ground Zero would text him. Izuku always agreed to come.
He wasn’t his Kacchan. But they were similar enough for the differences to stand out. Izuku has no shared history with him, no childhood memories, no unbreakable trust in each other forged by years fighting together and with each other.
But Izuku still liked him, still believed him amazing; still thought he could have hung the moon and the stars.
One night, Ground Zero was more pensive than usual. Something obviously on his mind.
They were lying in bed — not cuddling; because only lovers cuddle. But their legs tangled together under the covers, and Katsuki’s arm brushed against Izuku.
“I don’t have time for a relationship,” Ground Zero said, breaking the not uncomfortable silence. “I’m gonna be #1.”
His red eyes flicked towards him. “You understand that, right, Midoriya?”
Ah, yes.
Izuku nodded. He’s heard this speech before.
_________________________
When the next window opened, Izuku decided to take it.
He texted Ground Zero, unsure if he would answer. He was still on duty, and meeting up during the day would be a break from their routine.
But he did answer and agreed to meet Izuku by the small park.
Ground Zero arrived in his uniform, drawing the eyes of the few bystanders.
“What’s up, nerd?” he said with a smirk — not the public one; the one that told Izuku he was glad to see him. He leaned on the same railing as Izuku, brushing their shoulders.
“I wanted to tell you I’m leaving. I didn’t want to just disappear.”
Izuku watched as the smirk dropped from his handsome face. A frown replaced it.
“When?”
“Soon.”
Izuku smiled, big and bright. “I know you’ll be #1, Ground Zero-san. I’m sorry I won’t be here to see it in person. But I know you can do it. You’re amazing.”
_________________________
As Izuku made the jump, he vowed not to seek Katsuki out in the next world. If he kept leaving pieces of himself behind, he will soon have nothing left.
Izuku left this world.
He didn’t get to know that Ground Zero called his number and received a disconnected message. He didn’t see Ground Zero try to search for one ‘Midoriya Izuku’ and not find him because he never existed.
Ground Zero scoured his memory for everything Izuku ever said about his life, any clues how to find him again. He spent the rest of his life jolting to attention whenever he heard a familiar sounding laugh; stopping when he saw someone with green curls in a crowd.
Ground Zero never forgot Midoriya, but Izuku was long gone.