Work Text:
Bakugou Katsuki was not a clumsy person. Sure, he made mistakes on occasion – he would cite ‘his entire fucking childhood’ – but he was very in tune with his balance and self. That was part of what made him such a great hero. He knew how to position himself and move accordingly for whatever move he needed to pull off.
That’s what made ‘the picture’ so wonderful
Just a few weeks ago, he face-planted into the ground with his coffee in hand. Eijiro and Denki refused to ever let it go. It certainly didn’t help that the blonde managed to snap a picture right after the moment of impact – it was a masterpiece of flying coffee, a frustrated expression, and Bakugou’s bloody nose.
They would forever thank virtual storage capacities for saving the picture when Bakugou had tried his hardest to delete it.
In the end, the picture didn’t amount to much. Of course, they’d sent it to their entire class – now all graduated – for a laugh and printed it to hang prettily in a picture frame, but they hadn’t really done anything of substance with it. Such was a crime that they, as heroes, needed to right. Denki, especially, was very focused on finding the perfect use for it.
At the same time, they were at a loss for what that might be. Releasing it to a media outlet would just be cruel (and return no satisfaction) and if they posted it on the internet with no context, Bakugou would probably unfriend them in an instant. Eijiro was very insistent that it never come to that.
When the two of them burst into Bakugou’s apartment with plenty of beer in hand, they didn’t expect to imagine what would ultimately be their pinnacle. The idea came to them when they were completely and irrevocably drunk. They instantly got to work.
Using the picture and a quote from an equally drunk Bakugou (though he remained unaware of their plan), they created something that would forever stick with them: a Tinder profile. Neither Eijiro or Denki had ever used the app, but they downloaded it to Bakugou’s phone and proceeded to make the lamest profile they could.
The picture of Bakugou falling headlined the profile and it was labeled as ‘Kacchan, 23.’ For the description section, they received a slightly mumbled quote from Bakugou, “Why the hell are you asking who I am? I’ll fucking kill you if you pull anything on me!”
Below that they added, “Great guy looking for someone to help him relax, a bit prickly but a real softy on the inside, and though he looks like a mess, he has a six pack.”
After publishing the profile, they proceeded to swipe right for absolutely everyone they came across on the app. It didn’t matter what the guy looked like or what their profile said, if they were similar in age and lived nearby, they got a swipe right. Occasionally, they would come across a profile to coo over or wonder about, but they all blurred together in the end.
Maybe because they had a horrible profile or maybe because it was eleven PM, but they didn’t get any matches at all. Depressed by their failure, Denki and Eijiro relinquished the phone back to Bakugou (who hadn’t even noticed that it was missing) and promptly passed out on their friend’s couch.
Though they didn’t manage to find true love for their sparky boy, it had at least been fun while it lasted. Plus, it would be worth it to see their friend’s reaction when he realized what they had done.
On the other side of the city, after all of the heroes had fallen asleep, Midoriya Izuku knocked on the door of his best friend’s apartment. He and Melissa Shield had known each other for a long time – ever since his dad moved the Midoriya family to I-Island – and they had an open-door policy with each other. Especially for times like these.
For Izuku had just been broken up with his douchebag boyfriend and he needed a shoulder to cry on (and a friend to rant to). Melissa opened the door to him and even though it was the middle of the night, she didn’t look like she’d been asleep at all. This was mostly expected of her.
As an in-demand hero support designer, she pulled long hours and didn’t sleep that much. When she saw her friend’s red rimmed eyes, she pulled him into the apartment and into a hug, “Izuku, are you okay?” she asked.
Izuku shook his head even though it was partially pushed into her shoulder and let himself be lugged into the apartment. He ended up being pushed onto the couch and Melissa fetched some wine for the two of them. He frowned at the sight of it but poured himself a large glass either way.
Once Melissa had sat down next to him, he launched into the long story of how he and his boyfriend had broken up. The two of them had met through work. Izuku had been commissioned to design something in particular for the hero his boyfriend had managed. As a quirk analyst, Izuku specialized in research, but he also freelanced as a support designer (for heroes and civilians alike); the engineer part of him had been a side effect of being friends with Melissa and living at I-Island for most of his life.
Though their relationship had been short and fraught with arguments, Izuku had believed they were capable of lasting longer than they had. Of course, it had all fallen down when Izuku refused to be ‘managed’ by his controlling boyfriend. The bastard had broken up with him before Izuku could do it himself.
Melissa was sure to sympathize with him about how terrible his boyfriend was and poured the wine she had on hand very generously. Izuku, in great length, complained over his boyfriend’s bad habits concerning pickiness and boasting over his ‘Yuuei education’ where he’d been in the management department. When Melissa insisted that his douchey-ness came from the prestigious school, Midoriya vehemently agreed.
Eventually, they got to a point of drunkenness where Izuku stood up on the couch and declared, “I’m never dating a Yuuei graduate again!” Below, Melissa cheered for him with a grin and spilled a bit of wine on her couch.
Somewhere along the line, Melissa insisted he needed a rebound to get over the asshat that was his ex. Izuku agreed. With that thought, they unearthed his old Tinder account (one that he’d made over a year ago) and updated it. They put in that cute photo Melissa had taken of him when they’d visited Tokyo Disneyland and updated the description.
Only after they were satisfied with how it all came together did they begin to look for potential matches. Midoriya demanded that they find someone who was fun and ‘had an actual personality.’ Melissa decided they also needed to be hot.
In their wine drunken haze, they scrolled through profile after profile of guys and girls, looking for anyone who fit their requirements. They strictly avoided anyone who talked about their work on their profile and payed careful attention to the ones with an attractive face or a cute, catchy profile.
Near the end of their grand search, they came across a profile titled ‘Kacchan, 23.’ Melissa wanted to keep scrolling because, “Even if it says he has a 6 pack, his photo is a total disaster. Plus, he ends up talking in the third person, what kind of psychopath does that?” she contended.
But Izuku wrenched the phone away from his blonde friend and scrutinized the picture, “I can’t remember why, but ‘Kacchan’ sounds so familiar. And you can’t deny that he definitely has a personality.”
“But you already matched with Ichigo!” Melissa cried out – she had taken it upon herself to be Ichigo’s personal advocate after his profile described him as a ‘soulful artist’ (Izuku had his doubts about the man).
Midoriya carefully ignored her and swiped right – thereby sealing his fate.
Katsuki groaned and rolled over onto his side. His whole body felt dizzy – if that made any sense – and the singing coming from his kitchen sounded like a dying parrot begging for another chance at love. It was no doubt Kaminari – crooning another idiotic love song for Kirishima.
The hero scowled and rummaged around his nightstand for his phone. He caught a brief glance of the time – too late – and a notification he didn’t recognize before his phone powered off. He looked down at the charging cord laying at his feet and swore in frustration.
He didn’t even remember using his phone last night, but the battery was completely drained. It must have been the two dumbasses last night who used up all of his battery. Katsuki ran a hand through his hair and pulled it away when the strands felt grimy. He needed a shower, pronto.
The blonde wasn’t exactly a clean freak, but he didn’t like being unhygienic. Before he headed to the bathroom, he plugged in his phone and frowned at the bright white screen signaling the failure of his battery.
Grabbing a set of clean clothes, he set off to finally feel clean once more. His shower didn’t take long, but when he got out, the mirror was fogged up. He dried off and changed into clothes. After brushing his teeth, Katsuki heads to the kitchen where Kirishima and Kaminari have already made breakfast for the troubles they put him through.
The two idiots had come over after their shift and shoved alcohol on him like they were trying to poison him. At first, it wasn’t overly horrible but somewhere around the end the two of them split off to talk conspiratorially and Katsuki had settled for watching whatever movie he could find.
They’d prepared omelet over rice for breakfast and Katsuki wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Sometimes, he thought it might be the only thing the two of them knew how to cook despite living ‘on their own’ for the past five years.
Kirishima gave him a bright grin and tackled him in a side hug where he slung one arm over Katsuki’s shoulders and pulled him tight. He gestured to the meal in front of him, “Isn’t it great?” he asked excitedly. Katsuki regarded the meal with disdain.
It was obvious that Kirishima was talking about the badly drawn ‘explosion’ marked on the egg part but Katsuki wasn’t impressed, “To clarify, the world is better off for you having never pursued art and that better be done in hot sauce,” is all he said before dislodging himself from Kirishima’s grasp and sitting down at his kitchen island.
Kirishima grabbed at his chest like he was suffering a heart attack before breaking out in laughter. His self-proclaimed ‘friends’ sat down with him with their respective breakfasts and started talking about whatever their next plot would be.
Katsuki’s head still hurt too much to pay proper attention or even participate in the conversation, so he mostly focused on the food and thought about how glad he was that he didn’t have to patrol until the next day – which was probably why Kirishima and Kaminari had thought it was okay to break into his apartment yesterday.
As soon as they were all done with breakfast and Katsuki had coerced Kirishima into doing the dishes for him, he shoved the two boyfriends out of his apartment and headed back to his room. He didn’t have a lot going on for his only day off, but he was determined to actually use it as a ‘day off’ for once in a long time.
This meant that he’d scroll through his phone for a little bit, attempt to read a book, get frustrated and promptly head to the gym (thereby ruining the day off’s purpose). Katsuki sat down on his bed and checked his phone. It was finally charged so he promptly unlocked it.
The notification he’d barely noticed when he first checked his phone was still there and when he recognized what it was for, his face went bright red in anger. He knew that he certainly hadn’t downloaded the dating app, but the two who had would certainly get a good taste of his vengeance.
On the corner of the app, a red circled ‘1’ dared him to open the app and he relented. He might as well check out what profile they made for him before deleting it all and burning his retinas. When he opened his app, it didn’t automatically take him to the profile like he wanted but showed that he’d made a single match with an ‘Izuku.’
It took a few minutes, but the familiarity of the name raced through his gut and he opened the messages. Memories of his childhood flashed through his memory and he clenched a fist at his side. He’d been a major asshole and the only way Izuku had matched with him was if he a) didn’t remember Katsuki at all or b) wanted to properly yell at him.
He and Izuku had been close friends (according to his mom) until Izuku was diagnosed as quirkless. Katsuki had taken to calling him some stupid name that he could barely remember. It was barely two years later that they moved to god knows where. His childhood’s friend’s profile was surprisingly… cute.
It featured a picture of him at Disneyland with some sparkly ears on his head and a caramel apple in hand. His freckles were still prominent on his face and he donned a nice tan.
His description wasn’t horrible either, “Looking for someone fun who doesn’t mind meeting up at odd hours or taking long drives to the mountains. No quirk supremacists please :)” and Katsuki his lips pursed as tightly as they could in resistance to any possible smiles.
However, there was no reason for Izuku to swipe on his profile if he was looking for someone ‘fun.’ Katsuki had been repeatedly described as a ‘fun-killer’ whenever he’d left a party early to go to bed or refused to participate in any ridiculous games.
He swiped away from the cute picture and managed to find his own profile. He narrowed his eyes at the ridiculous picture and swore to himself that Kirishima and Kaminari would forever regret making this account for him.
Katsuki did his best to let go of his anger – or rather, store it in a safe place for when he next needed it – and opened up the chat between him and Izuku. There was a single message clumsily typed, “Did it hurt when you fell? Asking for when I start falling for you ;)”
It was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever read and judging by the errors in the message, probably written under the influence of something. He considered deleting the app and never thinking about Izuku ever again, but curiosity got the best of him.
Kacchan
It wasn’t the fall that got me, but the scalding hot coffee.
Katsuki instantly regretted every word he had typed, especially when it came up under that idiotic name. He had no doubts that it had been Kaminari who had chosen it as a result of meeting Katsuki’s mom. The hag had been all too happy to tell them about the embarrassing nickname he’d held as a four-year old.
Izuku
Haha, I get that. I accidently spilled coffee on myself while in the lab.
My day was immediately ruined.
So, he was into science. That seemed to check out. A few years ago, he’d dug out some of his old school stuff when his parents were moving houses and found a letter from Izuku. It was cluttered with hypotheses about heroes and quirks (at least, the stuff that Katsuki could make out as Izuku had been pretty young when he’d written it).
Kacchan
That sounds fucking awful
Katsuki groaned and dropped his phone onto his bed. What was he doing sympathizing with Izuku? If the other man knew who he was, he certainly wouldn’t be talking to him. He should seriously just drop the conversation and move on with his life.
Izuku
Surprisingly, it wasn’t even one of my worst lab accidents.
He smiled ruefully at his phone and the conversation that could have been before closing the app completely. For some reason, he didn’t delete the app and was resolved to remove the small amount of texts from his memory. He should try reading that book right about now.
Eijiro, just returned from a patrol, strolls into the agency’s break room. It’s small and the walls are a light yellow, but it also houses everything he needs right now. Like the protein shake he brings to work every day which he stores in the black minifridge.
The small fridge isn’t enough to store everyone’s food, so when he opens it up, a sandwich container falls onto his feet. They had a bigger, working fridge, but two sidekicks got into a minor fight in the break room and destroyed it. The whole agency was stuck with the small one until the sidekicks could cover the expenses to replace it.
Sometimes, Eijiro truly hated the management at his agency.
He carefully returns the sandwich container to a precarious position on top of someone else’s take out and extracted his own shake. After closing the fridge door (a bit too hard), something falls to the floor. Eijiro looked to the side of the fridge to see a phone in a black case. It had probably blended into the top of the fridge so that Eijiro hadn’t seen it.
Eijiro picks up the phone and prays that it’s not broken. When he turns it around, he sighs in relief over the fact that the screen is completely untouched. Using his thumb, he presses the power button on the side of the phone and it flickers to life.
His eyes widen when he recognizes the lock screen as Katsuki’s (a simple Ground Zero themed design made by a fan). It wasn’t like his friend to leave his valuables just littered around the agency but considering how quickly Katsuki had run out of the agency for his patrol, it wasn’t completely out of the question. Katsuki had passed him, right as Eijiro came back, with a determined look on his face.
Eijiro is grateful that Katsuki doesn’t realize that his fingerprint is recognized by Katsuki’s phone, because it still works after all this time. He’s not going to do anything nefarious on Katsuki’s phone, but he does want to see if anything ever resulted from the Tinder profile.
Katsuki had, of course, gotten his revenge after seeing what they’d made for him, but never talked about whether or not he got a match. When the app is still downloaded, Eijiro’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He would have thought that Katsuki deleted the app the second he noticed it. It even had a small ‘1’ on the top corner of the app.
He’s probably never opened an app faster than Katsuki’s Tinder app. First, he checked the profile to see if it was unchanged (it was) and then he went to messages. There was a single match with an ‘Izuku.’ Eijiro decided to check Izuku’s profile first and was surprised by what he saw.
Relative to the profile they had made for Katsuki, this guy was way out of Katsuki’s league. Not only was he cute, but he seemed genuinely sweet. Why the other man would ever swipe right for the disaster profile they’d made was outside of Eijiro’s level of comprehension.
Positive that Katsuki wouldn’t be the type to send any ‘untoward’ photos, Eijiro opened their messages next. They hadn’t exchanged many texts at all, but Eijiro was surprised that Katsuki had deigned to respond at all. The explosive hero wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t actually interested in Izuku, right?
Then there was the matter of the last text Izuku had sent, “The name Kacchan seems familiar; do I know you from somewhere?”
Was that why Katsuki kept the app? Was that why he’d stopped texting Izuku?
Eijiro only knew about the nickname ‘Kacchan’ from Denki. His boyfriend had met Mitsuki once and came back using the name relentlessly until Katsuki destroyed him in training practice because of it. After that, he reigned in his usage of it.
The nickname was from Katsuki’s very young childhood. Eijiro thought about what Katsuki might do if faced with someone from his far past. Katsuki wasn’t a coward by any means, but it would make sense for him to separate himself with someone like that.
His friend didn’t tend to be very vulnerable, with anyone, but Eijiro distinctly remembered one day in high school where Katsuki had opened up to him. Granted, it was after a party that had involved a fair amount of alcohol but Eijiro had always appreciated that moment. Katsuki opened up to him about how he had been a bit of a bully to the kids in his grade – especially a quirkless boy who had previously been his best friend.
The bullying had apparently gotten so bad that Izuku had left the school and Katsuki never heard of him again. After that, his parents had gotten serious about stopping his more violent tendencies and put him in anger management counseling after that (something Katsuki didn’t think would have happened had Izuku not left because of him).
The last thing Eijiro wanted to do was betray his best friend’s trust, but he also didn’t want Katsuki to miss out on something like this. Izuku was cute and Katsuki was likely interested (when had been the last time Katsuki was even remotely interested in someone? Eijiro couldn’t remember) so Eijiro wanted to help him with this chance.
He just wasn’t sure how to help him with this kind of thing. But he knew someone who would know what to do!
Eijiro peeked his head out of the break room with Katsuki’s phone snug in his hand. When he saw that his boyfriend’s door was open, he bounded across the office and burst into the small office. Denki looked up at him from his computer. He was looking relaxed with his hero jacket hanging on the back of his chair and his hero glasses tucked up his desktop computer.
Eijiro walked over to the desk and Denki tilted his head up in an obvious move for a kiss. Without a thought, Eijiro complied and put his lips on his boyfriend’s before putting a hand on Denki’s shoulder, “Ei, what is it?” his boyfriend asked him. In response, Eijiro handed over Katsuki’s phone.
Denki took the device greedily and gasped out loud when he saw what it contained, “I can’t believe someone actually liked our profile for him!”
“Right?” Eijiro exclaimed. He spared a glance to the still open door and shut it before continuing the conversation, “And Katsuki wouldn’t have responded if he had no interest; do you agree?”
Denki nodded his head with a wicked grin, “I think I know what we have to do about Blasty’s constipated feelings! It’s a good thing we have the username and password to the account,” he said with a wink.
Grinning at his boyfriend, Eijiro prompted him about the plan Denki was coming up with for Katsuki. They were going to help their friend if it was the last thing they did!
Izuku unlocked his apartment and slumped in. That was possibly the worst date he’d ever been on and maybe the last he’d ever agree to. He was wrong to listen to Melissa. Dating was hell and Tinder made it worse.
He opens up his phone and deletes the contact he had put there just yesterday. Hopefully, they both saw it as a terrible date and they didn’t try to get back in touch with him. Izuku hated awkward conversations like those.
With his date officially cleared from his life, he scrolls through his phone aimlessly before his eyes focus on Tinder. He’d gotten quite a few matches from his drunken swiping with Melissa all those weeks ago, but not a single one of them had gone well.
Maybe online dating just wasn’t for him. Everyone was either mind-numbing dull or obviously trying to be someone they weren’t. Well, most everyone. He thought back to the profile of the guy falling with his coffee.
Kacchan.
He still couldn’t remember why that name sounded so similar, but the other guy probably did. When he didn’t get a reply to his message – he’d asked if they knew each other from somewhere – and nothing else, he’d given up on that match going anywhere farther.
Izuku opens up the app for what he assumes will be the last time and checks his messages. He has a few new matches, but he scrolls right past them to the conversations he’d low-key abandoned. When there was a blue dot next to ‘Kacchan, 23’ his eyes went straight to it. How long had it been like that?
His finger hesitates for a second over the conversation before he gives in and clicks on it. The message was fairly recent, from just over a day ago. Izuku scrutinizes the message and wonders how he should respond – or if he should respond.
Kacchan
You were right. We used to know each other but I was shitty to you.
We used to be friends when we were younger.
Can I have a second chance?
It seems fairly genuine and Izuku wracks his brain for any ‘Kacchan’s’ in his past. A specific memory comes up of his mom and dad talking. It was about two years after they’d all moved to I-Island. He had had Melissa over for a sleepover and was trying to get them snacks when he saw them sitting, looking depressed at the table.
His mom was talking about how he’d been treated horribly at school after his diagnosis. She was glad that he didn’t get the same treatment at the island and had Melissa as a friend, but she worried sometimes that he’d never be able to get past the anxiety that had come from it.
Izuku distinctly remembered thinking, rather indignantly, that he wasn’t being ‘held back’ by any of his childhood memories but hadn’t mentioned what he’d overheard from his parents. That was one of the last times he really thought about the blonde boy he once called a friend, determined to move forward and be more confident in himself.
Should he give Kacchan a second chance? What was the worst thing that could happen? He felt like he was over the past but was that true? What if Kacchan hadn’t changed?
But you don’t test a hypothesis by ignoring everything about it. If he wanted to figure out if Kacchan was a good person, or even someone he wanted to date, he would have to confront him head on or else live in ignorance for the rest of his life.
However, he also couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed that there was no apology in the text. Was that because he wanted to talk about it in person? Izuku ends up ripping the skin on his lip in his worry but he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been biting it.
He swears and walks over to his table to grab a napkin to hold to the light bleeding. While he nurses his lip, he begins typing out a response to Kacchan’s message.
Izuku
I suppose I vaguely remember you.
What would a second chance entail, anyway?
Izuku stares at the app for a few minutes before deciding that he could be doing better things with his time. Instead of obsessing over someone he hasn’t seen in seventeen years, he could – okay, maybe he was exaggerating on the ‘better things’ to do part but he could figure something out.
With his phone still peacefully quiet, he elects to take a shower. It’s only when his hair is soaked and there are shampoo suds sticking diligently to his locks that he gets a notification. He stops washing his hair and peeks out of the stall to see his phone lit up with a Tinder notification. Of course, this would happen.
He whines before ducking his head under the shower head once more and washing out his hair. He runs through the rest of his shower fast enough and steps out to wrap himself in a towel. On his way out of the bathroom to get clothes to change into, he grabs his phone while being careful to not get any water on it.
By the time he’s back in his room and pulling on his pajama shirt, he’s already gotten another notification from Tinder. Izuku wrings his hair with the towel once more before turning on and unlocking his phone. The Tinder app is already open and he soaks in the new messages.
Kacchan
Teaching you the right way to fall ;)
Well, I wouldn’t actually say that; so, it’d really be about trying to figure out
why the hell it took me so long to text you back.
Izuku laughed at the texts he’d gotten. The first one was cute, so he had to wonder why Kacchan would take it back. Maybe he was trying too hard? That could be endearing, in moderation – but it also didn’t seem to fit the few things he knew about the other man.
Kacchan didn’t seem like the cheesy type, at all.
Izuku
And once you figure that out?
Where would we go?
Kacchan
Somewhere nice, quiet
A good place to talk, I suppose
They certainly had a lot that they would have to talk about. What had Kacchan done after Izuku left? If he really had bullied Izuku – it was probably because he was quirkless – how had he gotten over that stigma enough to want to reach out to Izuku on a dating app?
Oddly enough, after they work out a location and time for their first date, Kacchan goes very silent. Izuku tries to rationalize it as the other man not being the best texter and wanting to save any conversation for the date, but something still feels just a bit off.
He stares at the last message Kacchan sent him and frowns slightly. Maybe he should call Melissa about this – not only can she help him pick out a sensible outfit, but she can also help him try to make sense of everything that’s going on. As the person who helped him come out of his shell of anxiety and become more confident, she should have some helpful insight on the matter.
(“What the hell do you mean by ‘stand strong like a tree?’ In case you’ve forgotten, I’m neither a tree nor Kamui Woods.”)
Katsuki narrows his eyes and looks around the restaurant. He garnered a few stares, but it was likely because of his status as a hero rather than his glare at all of the customers. Regardless, the staring didn’t last long.
Most people who came here had social status of their own or connections – this meant that they were either subtle or didn’t care that much. It made the restaurant a popular destination for some of his old classmates whenever they had a big announcement. The last time he was here, one of them announced that they were getting engaged.
The hero figured that was why he had been summoned here, today. Kaminari had told him that if he didn’t show up to their dinner, he’d be ‘disowned’ and ‘live in regret for the rest of his life.’ While he doubted that either of those statements were true, Katsuki suspected that it would be the two idiots announcing their engagement or some crap.
He didn’t need to go, but they were his friends (which he supposed he could admit in the privacy of his head).
And so, he donned a nice red shirt and made his way to the restaurant. His first impulse had been to go over to the biggest table they had, but no one was there. There wasn’t even a single obnoxious looking red head in the entire restaurant (or a regular looking red head, for that matter).
Feeling frustrated, he starts to type out an angry and strongly worded text to the boyfriends (and possible fiancés). He looked over it once, knowing any errors would earn him an arbitrary and mocking response, before hovering his finger over the send button.
Before he could press it, however, there was a gentle tap on his shoulder. He can’t imagine either Kirishima or Kaminari being so subtle so when he turns around he expects to see Mina or Sero (while they wouldn’t be very gentle either, they were the more likely options).
Instead, he’s faced with a bush of green hair. He turns his head down to see big, matching green eyes staring up at him. Katsuki goes remarkably still.
What’s Izuku doing here? Is this just the shittiest coincidence he’s ever been faced with? Of course he would be met with the cute guy he ghosted just over a month ago. How the hell was he going to explain this situation to Shitty Hair?
However, Izuku didn’t send him a mean look or roll his eyes or storm away like Katsuki had expected. Rather, he offered Katsuki a cute, shy smile and took a step towards Katsuki with his arms extended like he was going in for a hug.
Katsuki was the opposite of what could be politely considered a touchy person. Though he’d been known to give the occasional comforting pat in especially dire times to a classmate or a civilian, he simply didn’t like contact. But when Izuku went in for the kill, Katsuki found himself incapable of rejecting it.
When Katsuki stood completely still for the hug, Izuku pulled away – all too fast. He was blushing like he’d done something wrong (Katsuki refused to mull over how he, despite all his years of turning down hugs, considered the hug a good thing) and moved a bit backwards. His smile was strained and wobbly, but he didn’t mention how awkward that must have been for him.
A bit confused why Izuku be so friendly with him, he opens his mouth to speak.
His thunder is stolen when Izuku pushes him slightly towards one of the empty tables, “The head server said this was the table you reserved; why don’t we sit down, Kacchan?”
Before either of them can sit down, Katsuki speaks up, “I’m here to meet with my friends, Izuku.”
At this, Izuku frowns, “What? I think you might be a bit confused,” he says plainly.
Katsuki starts to feel frustrated. Why the hell did Izuku think he could just unearth his plans? He clenches his fist and it takes a lot out of him to not let his anger boil over. He isn’t given the chance to say any of these things to Izuku because his phone starts ringing.
Turning away from Izuku, he plucks the device out of his pocket and sees Kaminari is the caller. He slides to pick up the call and lifts it to his ear, “Kaminari, where the hell are you?” he hisses through the speaker.
Kaminari squeaks on the other end before launching into an explanation, “Okay, don’t get too angry, but Eijiro and I may have set up a date between you and Izuku?” he admits in a small voice.
The blonde’s weak platitudes do nothing to quell Katsuki’s anger, “What the fuck?” he barks into the phone, just a bit louder than what would be considered polite at this restaurant. The stares from customers return but he doesn’t care, “Why would you-“ he doesn’t finish his question. He knows the answer, it’s because he’s friends with complete imbeciles.
“Be nice to Izuku, and have a nice date, Kacchan,” he drawls out before hanging up on Katsuki. If Katsuki had less control over his emotions, he would have crushed his phone to bits.
Somehow, he manages to turn around to face Izuku once again. His childhood friend looks expectant and largely uncomfortable. Katsuki figures it is just best to be blunt about the incredibly insane scenario. He had no doubt that Izuku would not be impressed by what he had to say, “I wasn’t the one who scheduled this date. It was my idiotic friend, the one who made the Tinder account in the first place.”
“You’re telling me that not only did you not even set up us matching, but you also didn’t set up this date?” Izuku asks with one raised eyebrow.
Katsuki nods with tightened lips, he’s just as unhappy with this as Izuku. There was a reason he didn’t keep talking to the other man. Izuku deserved more than getting stuck with the kid who’d relentlessly bullied him for something he couldn’t control.
“Well, this is awkward. I guess we only have two options. Either we leave the restaurant and pretend none of this ever happened or we can have a date and try to enjoy it. It’s up to you, as you’re the one who didn’t even agree to this date.”
The hero had an image of a shy Izuku in his head, one who wouldn’t make eye contact or even dare to be so straight forward. This Izuku however, looked him straight in the eye and stood confidently, waiting for an answer.
He wanted to tear out his hair from the tension but instead just kept his eyes locked onto Izuku’s. They were bright green and slightly reflecting the soft yellow overhead lights in the restaurant. For a moment, Katsuki remembered a scene that made him uneasy: the two of them in the creek, Izuku’s hand reached out, Katsuki pushing him away.
If Katsuki rejected him here, would it be the same as that one day in their childhood? Would he be missing out on something he could never get back? He chewed at the inside of his cheek and his eyebrows furrowed. Izuku remained unwavering.
“Yeah, fine. Let’s have a date.”
Even though he questions himself, the smile Izuku gives him in return is one that makes his chest tighten. In that split second, Katsuki’s doubts vanish and he’s simply in the moment.
The moment begins to fade when Izuku tries to sit and Katsuki has to stop him, “But first, I want to apologize for how I treated you when I was younger. It was shitty of me.” Izuku’s smile doesn’t even falter when he accepts the apology. Then they’re sitting down and he’s frustrated again.
Izuku doesn’t seem affected by the awkwardness of the moment as he sits down still smiling. Katsuki, who hasn’t been on a date for a solid year, feels out of touch with the whole moment. There’s a bit of silence while the two of them deliberate over their menus.
Katsuki is usually fine with a lack of conversation – even though he’s always surrounded by generally chatty people – but not here, in this situation. There are too many unknowns and since he agreed to this date, he’s not going to be the one to fuck it up.
After putting down his menu, he starts with what he wants to know most of all, “Where did you end up going after you left?”
The other man walks him through his work in quirk research and how it all came together because he ended up on I-Island. He started wanting to work in helping heroes which shifted to helping everyone and that had all culminated in a successful career that involved plenty of travel. He’d only been in Japan for the past year.
“What about you, Kacchan? What do you do, now?” Izuku asks innocently. Katsuki stills, wondering if he really doesn’t know that Katsuki is a hero (and not just any hero, one in the top ten).
His emotions bristle inside of him, but he forces himself to be patient, “After you left, my parents put me in counseling,” is how he starts before he’s interrupted by the waiter bringing their food to the table, he glares (lightly) and the waiter takes that as a message to hurry away.
“I might not have made it to Yuuei without that counseling,” he says, but he doesn’t miss the way that Izuku’s face twists in disgust, “Hah? You got a problem with that?”
His date goes bright red and vehemently shakes his head, “No, no! My- well, when I redownloaded Tinder, I told myself I wouldn’t, um, date anyone from Yuuei. Of course, I said that when I was wildly drunk, but it was because of someone I met?”
Because Katsuki isn’t completely daft, he can put together that this person from Yuuei that Izuku was talking about was an ex, “I’d bet anything that they were in the management department,” he says confidently.
Izuku’s face lights up, “How did you know?”
“They’re pretty mild while in Yuuei, but the second they graduate, their heads inflate to hell and back. I had a Yuuei manager for a day before I fired him because he continuously got on my nerves,” he admits and Izuku bursts into laughter – even throwing his head back.
Katsuki can’t help but grin along.
The two of them talk like that for almost an hour. Izuku ends up getting a little too excited by realizing Katsuki is actually Ground Zero and Katsuki might have bent his fork upon hearing that Izuku and All Might are relatively close. The icon had taught at Yuuei, but only to the third years.
By the time Katsuki looks outside, the sun has gone down and most of the customers are gone. He’s surprised the waiters didn’t kick them out of their table considering how strict they could be with reservations.
He ends up being able to make sure that Izuku doesn’t even get to look at the bill and considers it part of his reparation for being a crappy kid. Izuku pouts, nonetheless.
Even though he drove to the restaurant and his car is currently checked by valet, he easily leaves it behind when Izuku says he wants to walk back to his apartment. It’s cool out and Izuku slips his hand into Katsuki’s. When he mildly activates his quirk to make his hand just a bit warmer, Izuku looks at him with glittering eyes.
He wonders how he could’ve been so cruel to Izuku when he was younger.
The other ends up on a rant about a quirk he’d been having trouble analyzing in the lab and Katsuki listens, even if most of the science terms go over his head.
Once they’re at the apartment building, Katsuki realizes that this is the part where one of them might mention if they want another one.
However, Izuku seems to be pointedly not saying anything. They hesitate right outside of the front door and they are both quiet. His date looks up at him expectantly and Katsuki realizes that Izuku’s not going to ask him at all. It’s up to Katsuki.
By the time Izuku has blinked innocently (Katsuki counted), he has his hands gripped tight together and asks, “Do you want to go on a second date?”
There’s a pause and Katsuki thinks, momentarily, that Izuku had been expertly leading him along or would turn him down. But then his date gives him a sly grin and agrees. Katsuki does his best to smirk back like he knew there would be no other answer.
Izuku tugs down on Katsuki’s hand – which he’s still holding tight – and stands up on his toes. His lips are warm when they land on the hero’s cheek. Izuku breathes out once before dropping the hand and the kiss and running back inside.
As he watches him go, Katsuki wonders about all he’d been missing out on growing up.