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Katsuki is like the sun.
To Izuku, at least. Most look to Bakugou and see that thick layer of anger, pride, power—and it’s too much. As children the people around him saw greatness, yes, but great did not mean good. It simply meant potential. The nitroglycerin pumping through his veins and coating his skin had the potential for a hero—but the line between hero and villain was so thin. Certainly, the League of Villains wouldn’t pursue Bakugou so desperately if they too didn’t see his great potential? The gawkers and onlookers outside of UA settled poisonous eyes on him after that.
But even loud, biting Katsuki Bakugou could attract admiration. He was a young god; powerful, attractive, intimidating. People wanted him for his strength, his money, his status, his beauty. Surface level love that could never hope to match up to the way Izuku loved him. The freckled boy knew Katsuki was the sun—what else could explain the intense gravitational force that drew him in so strongly? What could explain the way he shone so bright? Helios, that mythical Greek god that paled in comparison, must have seen Katsuki the day he was born and halted his chariot. No point in pulling an old sun when another had been born.
His light had guided him as a child, even when Katsuki burned him. Now that they were both adults and standing side by side, Izuku would never feel a single burn again. Not from him, anyway—there were plenty of villains out there with fire-based quirks. But that too was fine, because Katsuki would fret over him in his own way and they would go home together and take care of each other. Because Izuku was Katsuki’s moon—another astronomical force, changing the tides rather than burning until something new rose from the ashes. They fit perfectly together. Nothing matched up quite like they did.
But waxing poetic about his boyfriend didn’t ever change the situations Midoriya found himself in often. Because yes, Katsuki was dazzling like the sun—but that meant that everyone wanted a piece of him.
Izuku doesn’t like that.
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It’s been a long day—a very long day. A villain with a normally low-level metal manipulation quirk managed to get the latest enhancers on the market and tore open the side of a bank. His control was abysmal though, and pipes had burst for blocks around him in a half mile radius. Pipes both in the walls of homes and gigantic ones underneath the city. It was chaos. Pro Heroes Deku and Dynamight were on the scene within moments and had to jump between saving injured bystanders and subduing the panicking villain. The guy didn’t even really seem that bad—he was a portly middle-aged man with shaggy dark hair. Thick rimmed glasses hid the source of the fat tears streaming down his face. Deku and Dynamight had seen plenty of this before.
This latest strain of enhancing drugs wasn’t just the most powerful and difficult to control, but it seemed to have a specific target audience. People down on their luck—broke, heavily in debt, jobless, old but couldn’t retire. The League would find these people, tell them their problems could be fixed so easily, then give them the drugs. They weren’t even genuinely bad. They were just desperate.
Victory against him didn’t taste sweet. Dynamight and Deku stood amongst the rubble, watching as he was secured and carted off to be interrogated then likely jailed. The moment the doors of the armored van shut on him, reporters swarmed the Wonder Duo.
“Dynamight, Deku—can you tell us about today’s fight?”
“How were you able to get to the scene so quickly?”
“Can we assume this is related to the string of attacks involving the latest drugs on the black market?”
Izuku could already see the steam pouring out of Katsuki’s ears, so he stepped in. A gentle, subtle hand tapped the blonde’s lower back and suddenly the tenseness in his shoulders bled out. Bakugou threw him a grateful look before he prowled off to speak with one of the officers waiting on him for an official report.
None of the reporters caught the gentleness between the two, simply pressing in with their microphones and chattering on with their questions. Deku, currently the number four hero—just behind his Kacchan—still wasn’t used to the way reporters…didn’t actually care. They swarmed heroes and tried to pry literally anything juicy out of them. He was lucky that in the year and a half he’s been a pro hero, his agency had a spectacular PR team that trained him to deal with the hounds before him.
“Ah, yes—Dynamight and I believe that this is related to the string of drug-based attacks. The incident today involved an older man who seems to fit all the usual traits seen in other attacks.” He began, interrupted almost as soon as he finished with another barrage of questions—each less relevant than the last. As he nodded and answered without letting out any confidential information, his eyes naturally drifted to his boyfriend.
Katsuki apparently hadn’t made it over for his report yet, to the ire of both the grumpy man and the officer waiting on him. A strikingly tall woman—nearly as tall as Dynamight himself—had latched onto him. The iridescent scales adorning every inch of her body flashed new colors in the dusty light of midday, and fluttering frills on either side of her face clearly indicated preening, but Katsuki evidently wasn’t impressed. He glowered at her unfazed even as she pressed closer to his side, chest pointedly squishing against his arm. Deku faltered in his response to the reporters at that.
Why wasn’t Katsuki shrugging her off? Sure, it would look bad as a Pro Hero but—but… ugh. Just because they weren’t public didn’t mean random people should feel free to be all over him! Kacchan was attractive, and his.
With that ugly thought pressing down on his chest and beginning to worm a thick sense of guilt into him, he apologized to the reporters with a halfhearted explanation of hero duties and stormed off towards Katsuki. The explosive blonde was glowering at the amphibian woman, but his sharp red eyes soon caught sight of an upset Izuku marching over.
“I just want to show you how thankful I am, Dynamight.” The woman crooned, not yet aware of the steaming green man just behind her. He narrowed his eyes and moved to be in her vision, just in front of the two. She shot an unimpressed look at him.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” He started, flashing a fake but boyish smile. “Dynamight and I need to get going.”
She gritted sharp teeth in an equally fake smile, nails curling around the thick, sweat-covered arm of Izuku’s boyfriend. “Ooh, really? That’s odd, he just told me we could hang out for a bit—let me thank him properly.”
Katsuki visibly bristled, clearly about to rip this girl—non-villainous citizen or not—a new one. Deku beat him to the punch. “Ooh, that’s odd.” The freckled boy gave an exaggerated laugh, turning up the sharpness of his smile. “Because he just told me that we’re going to be patrolling a couple blocks over right now. Let’s go, Dynamight.”
He turned on his heel, dropping his smile as soon as the woman couldn’t see his face. Behind him, Katsuki immediately yanked himself out of the stunned woman’s reach. The blonde was just slightly in a daze—was Deku jealous? That’s kind of hot. Leaving behind the quickly angering lady, he jogged to catch up and continue the patrol that had been interrupted. Probably best to not bring up what just happened yet.
_________________________________________
The night is young, but instead of being out with old friends from UA or having a relaxing night in together, Pro Heroes Deku and Dynamight could be found at the biannual Hero Gala. This event was held by the reformed Hero Commission and a rotating series of different city’s police forces. Twice a year topmost and up-and-coming heroes, city representatives, officers, special forces and so on wined and dined in a rented-out ballroom. Awards were given—all purely ceremonial—and individuals were honored for often cosmetic purposes. The whole event excluded the very citizens they served, but it was also a prime opportunity for networking.
While the gala was always several different kinds of stuffy, it had its good spots. The heroes attending had the rare chance to dress in something that wasn’t latex, thick padding, support gear or bloodied bandages. They could clean up, wear something nice, and feel good as the reporters outside flashed their cameras at them. Plenty of good food and expensive alcohol to get everyone well drunk. Plus, charming a city official or a long-time detective was always good for heroes—inside information on local cases or power to influence local hero legislation. Izuku’s first gala had been rough to swallow when he was told what he was expected to do. Even Katsuki didn’t like the idea of playing socialite to inadvertently increase rankings.
By now, it was simply par for the course. You could actually make friends at these things, though, and Katsuki was blessed to be in a hero duo as Izuku could do all the socializing for him. The blonde would loom behind him in conversations, very rarely commenting at the subtle behest of his partner. Even the people here didn’t know of their relationship. Anyone outside the hero world would think Katsuki and Izuku were being too secretive about dating each other for years, but some people in this room—the older generation, upset with all the change the new generation had brought—would take this information and try to destroy them with it. This was the life of a hero. For all the alterations Izuku had made as the Symbol of Hope, romantic relationships were still a risk.
This secret information led to problems, predictably. After the Wonder Duo had socialized enough—according to Izuku, of course—they were going to settle back down at their seats with a big plate of food and tall champagne glasses. A certain junior detective, however, had decided to follow them from their last conversation. All the way to the buffet and even their reserved table, with its reserved seats. Despite the name cards on each chair, junior detective Riku Yamamoto had sat in Izuku’s chair—right next to Katsuki. The person on the other side of Bakugou appeared to be asleep…or dead, given the amount of wine bottles around him. Either way, he was immovable. Midoriya was stuck to the left of the eager detective. Usually speaking to an excited fledgling defender of the law was great, plenty to bond over after all. This was not great.
“So, Dynamight.” Yamamoto spoke smoothly, resting his face in the palm of his hand to watch the irritated man beside him. Katsuki stabbed the steak on his plate in response. Unfazed, Yamamoto continued. “It’s really impressive that you’re the number three hero. What is it like being the Symbol of Victory?”
“Those rankings are old.” Katsuki corrected, gritting through his teeth when he realized he had successfully been dragged into a conversation, of all things. “I’m number two now.”
“Oh!” Riku faked surprise. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be number one soon either way. How good could the current guy be if I can’t even remember him?” He finished with a snicker, pushing ginger hair behind his ear and fluttering his eyelashes.
Bakugou’s thin patience snapped at that, sharp eyes locking onto the flirty red-head. Before he could snarl and cuss him out in public, Izuku saved them from losing all their precious contacts and ruin their good standing.
“You’re actually sitting next to the current number one!” He flashed a bright smile, freckled cheeks squishing ever so slightly. Riku turned so quickly something must have snapped. “I’m Deku, the Symbol of Hope. Nice to meet you, junior detective.”
Riku Yamamoto visibly paled but had enough sense to grasp the hand Izuku offered and shake back. At the bone creaking hold, he stole his hand back and gave a nasty look unseen by Bakugou. “Ah, well with a plain face like that you must have a very flashy quirk to make up for it! Nice to meet you, Deku.” He spat out and turned back to his obvious conquest.
If Katsuki had been pissed before, he was reaching near volcanic levels of anger now. The fork still in his hand had noticeably bent in his white-knuckled grip. Fortunately, he had had the good sense to put the knife in his other hand down, but the slim ginger detective’s life was still at stake. Not that he seemed to notice, really. Like many of Dynamight’s fans, he seemed to take his rising anger as a good sign. It wasn’t.
Riku continued on in his fantasy world where he could disrespect the number one hero and unprofessionally flirt with the number two hero. “So, Katsuki right? I’d love to get your number, exchange some good stories.”
Finally breaking, Katsuki snapped open his mouth to really lay onto this clingy, annoying ass extra—but again, Izuku the angel saved the day. “Sorry, junior detective, you know that information is confidential.” He gave a friendly pat to Yamamoto’s shoulder, but the man’s flinch let on just how much it hurt. “You can reach his work line, during work, though!”
Midoriya flashed one last blinding smile, smacked his knees, and got up from his seat. “Alright, Kacchan—its late.” The large, old fashioned clock on the other side of the room ticks close to nine. “Let’s go.”
Bakugou, thoroughly miffed, again decides just going along with Izuku is best. That night they leave the Hero Gala well before anyone else.
_________________________________________
Is Kirishima standing maybe just…a little too close to Kacchan?
The thought hits Izuku as he’s helping officers get a still-struggling villain of the day into the back of an armored van. Even tranquilized and bound with quirk negating handcuffs, the beast of a man is strong. His scaled tail—each plate thick, like a suit of armor—lashes around until Deku grips it harshly, digging in as a warning. The villain hisses through his teeth and quiets enough to close the doors behind him.
This in itself doesn’t matter, really. The only reason why the villain matters is because it means Deku and Dynamight worked together to take him down, like usual. Today, however, they had an old friend drop in for an assist. Red Riot, a fan favorite and in a very comfortable eighteen in the hero rankings—extremely respectable. Izuku valued Kirishima as both a Pro Hero and a friend, and his fanbase felt exactly the same.
Eijiro Kirishima was dependable, friendly, all surface, and warm. He was outgoing in public and never shied away from physical affection with his peers and random awestruck citizens. Every selfie with the hardened pro featured wide smiles and hugs. This established a big teddy bear of a man in the eyes of the media. “Red Riot” was nearly synonymous with casual, manly skinship—and he showed that especially with his bros. Katsuki was probably the bro of all bros to the unbreakable hero.
Countless pictures of Eijiro with an arm slung over Katsuki’s shoulders had graced equally countless covers of magazines—not countless, actually. Seventy-four, there were seventy-four magazines or major articles that featured the “incredible bond” between the two. Izuku hadn’t planned on counting them, but he couldn’t help it. Kirishima was allowed and even expected to touch his comrades in public—and the general populace loved Dynamight and Red Riot together. Yes, the Wonder Duo was the Wonder Duo, but most people had decided that in terms of torrid secret romantic relationships, it would likely be one feisty blonde and a cheery, affectionate red head.
He knew better, he did—but at the same time Deku would give anything to be able to touch Kacchan so freely. It was less being jealous in case of blossoming romantic feelings, and more being jealous of the freedom and lack of scrutiny Red Riot and Dynamight had in public. The one time he tried to hug Katsuki in public, it was plastered all over gossip news sites with some variation of homophobia or general disapproval. Interesting how those same groups would praise a fantasy relationship that didn’t have pure, Symbol of Hope Deku in it.
That’s why today, as he watches Kirishima pull in Katsuki for a classic side hug and flash his sharp teeth at the many cameras, he just can’t take it. He’s tired of sharing his boyfriend with everyone and not being able to say he’s his too. But…they look so happy. Katsuki is relaxed and even giving his own smirk—the best he can do in public when it comes to smiling. Everyone looks so happy to see Dynamight and Red Riot come together after another successful battle. It’s like Deku wasn’t even there, like he hadn’t helped.
So, he flashes one more smile at the officers he helped, gives a wave to the few reporters paying attention to him, and leaves. In the burst of super strength it takes him to cleanly jump a few blocks away, dust scatters out, reaching the “brothers in arms” as the media likes to coyly refer to them. The dirt whips around Katsuki, drawing his attention. He watches the back of his boyfriend disappear behind the remains of an office building, thoughtful.
_________________________________________
The door slams shut behind Katsuki, hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall near it. Izuku’s bush of a head can just barely be seen over the top of the couch, but despite Bakugou’s loud entrance he doesn’t turn to face him. The TV illuminates the dimness of the living room with some low budget baking competition. Safe bet that Deku had a pint of ice cream in his lap—mind numbing TV like this was his go to when he was moping.
Katsuki drops his keys on counter as he passes the kitchen, intent on finally talking about Izuku’s little stink for the past couple of months. He places his large hands on either side of that green, curly mess; perfectly framing his head. Deku still doesn’t respond—ah, he does have ice cream with him. Fruit Special, a nauseating combination of pineapple chunks, marshmallows, cherries, and a whole lot of almonds. Man, Izuku must be really upset.
“Oi.” Bakugou slammed his hands down, watching Izuku jump but just pout and jam the spoon in his mouth. “What’s wrong with you?”
Izuku scrunched up his little button nose and scowled at the TV, still insisting on not looking at his boyfriend. “Nothing! Everything is good.”
“Mmm, really?” Katsuki hummed low, leaning down a little more to rest his chin on that fluffy mess. The strands pillowed under him and tickled his face. “Then why are you watching your trash shows?”
“Not trash. And for no reason, really.” Someone on the screen tripped and upended the bowl of batter they were carrying, covering their competitor and causing a fight to break out. Izuku didn’t comment on the fact that the host was likely using their quirk to instigate things and raise the ratings. The legality of the situation never escaped Katsuki. Trash TV.
“Uh-huh.” Katsuki rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote, turning the TV off. The click settled the room in darkness, thick curtains blocking out the light of the late afternoon. “Cut the shit, Deku. Something has been bothering you lately.”
Izuku’s spoon clinked around in the bowl as he shoveled more ice cream into his mouth, insisting on not speaking. Irritated, Bakugou wrenched the bowl out of his hands. The spoon stuck out of his mouth until that too was snatched from him and deposited in the kitchen.
“You have to talk to me now, idiot.”
His freckled boyfriend crossed his arms and looked away, petulant. Growling under his breath, Katsuki stomped around the couch—he’s not a heathen, hopping on it would ruin the upholstery—and planted himself in front of Izuku. Reddening under the blonde’s fiery gaze, he still said nothing.
Katsuki loomed over him, breath hot on his turned away face. “Tell me what’s wrong. You can’t keep things bottled up forever.” Rough, calloused hands grab permanently chubby cheeks, turning Deku to look at him. “Not from me.”
Those pretty cheeks flushed hot under his fingers as Izuku stared wide-eyed. He subconsciously leaned in, wanting a kiss, but Katsuki kept him from moving. Yet another pout graced his chapped lips. “No kisses until you talk, asswipe.”
Deku scrunched up his nose but still smiled. “Romantic, Kacchan.” He sighed after that, looking down despite the hands still holding him in place. “It’s just…kind of stupid, honestly. I’m being dumb.”
“That isn’t new.”
A withering glance was thrown his way, but it didn’t last long. Crooked, scarred fingers interlocked with his own cradling Izuku’s face as the evergreen man leaned into his hold. He sighed and kissed one of the palms before finally speaking. “I’ve been… a little jealous, I guess.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Jealous? Why?”
“I just—I just see people who so obviously want you, Kacchan. All the time! And then they act on it, right there. Right in front of me.” His eyelashes fluttered as he once again looked down. “Like I’m not there, like you’re not mine. And I know, I know no one else knows we’re together because it’s the safest thing to do, but…”
Izuku looked back up with watery verdant eyes. “But I hate it so much.”
They let the room settle in silence for a little while. Neither of them speak, the TV had long been turned off, the curtains don’t even rustle. Outside the apartment it’s just as quiet too for once—not even a single car blaring its horn. Finally, Bakugou lowers his hands to Izuku’s lap, bringing those uneven, speckled hands with his own.
“You think it’s only you?” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “Last week that fan grabbed your ass to pull you over for a selfie. Nearly went and blew his face off then.” Sharp teeth flash at him, causing Izuku to blush. “Kacchan!” He reprimands, smile making his tone irrelevant.
“Round face and that Half-and-Half bastard pined over you for years, and you hadn’t even been mine for some of that. Do you know how many times we fought over you?” He kissed the ever-achy fingers in his grasp—this softness had only ever been reserved for his Deku. Another flush graced those spotted cheeks, crawling down his neck and up to his ears.
“There’s still that annoying fucking stabby girl in the League too. She’s constantly flirting with you.” Hot breath came out in a hiss and he gritted his teeth in a faux grin. “I know we shouldn’t think about killing people, but she pisses me off so much.” Izuku smacked him on the head for that, but still gave a soft look.
“See ‘Zuku?” Bakugou leaned in and gave him a brief kiss, savoring the way Izuku melted into him. “There’s nothing to worry about. In fact, why don’t we just say fuck it?”
“Fuck it?”
“Yeah—fuck it. Let’s go public.” Katsuki gave his trademark smirk, cupping Deku’s face and brushing his lips against his boyfriend’s. “Everyone will have to know soon anyway when I propose.”
Izuku sputtered and snatched his arms away to curl them around his head. Low muttering filled the room, and while others would confuse his shaking for straight up anxiety, Katsuki knew it was nervous excitement. The hands hiding his eyes couldn’t hide the few tears escaping him. Katsuki chuckled at the sight. “I haven’t proposed yet, idiot.”
Wiping away his tears and dropping his scarred arms, Izuku sniffled and grinned. “I-I know.” He gave a breathy chuckle, everything about him so bright and happy. “Y-Yeah, okay Kachaan. Let’s do it.”
“Fuck it.”