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Bakugou wiped his hand across his lips, panting as he spat out excess blood and spit. Deku stood in front of him, chest heaving as All Might stepped between them. He had arrived just as Bakugou had kneeled over Deku, screaming, all but sobbing in anguish and fury.
It pissed him off. He glared at Deku as they walked back towards the dorms, as they were yelled at by Aizawa and sentenced to house arrest, and even as they both stalked back towards their respective rooms.
He was so sick of Deku’s shit. He got into bed, not bothering to shower and get rid of the evidence of their fight. He didn’t clean the blood off his face or try to deal with his split lip. He ran his tongue over the cut and ground his teeth together. Stupid fuckin’ Deku.
His attitude was no better in the morning, his stomach still churning with the previous night’s rage. He bared his teeth at his classmates as they teased about the two of them being on house arrest, letting off small pops of explosions as they headed to class.
To make matters worse, Deku was walking around cleaning, smiling, and chattering as if last night hadn’t even happened. It made him sick. Deku’s cheerful attitude made his skin crawl; it made him want to light explosions along his own skin just to get rid of the feeling.
After a few hours of cleaning, Bakugou had finally had enough.
“Do you ever shut up? You are so fucking annoying. You talk constantly, how in the fuck have you not realized that no one wants to hear it. No one gives a shit about anything you have to say,” he spat, hands exploding on their own. His heart pounded in his chest as Deku’s eyes widened.
For a second, Bakugou thought he might start crying. Typical Deku, always crying like the fuckin’ baby he was.
He watched as Deku turned, setting down his spray bottle of bleach and his rag. His hands were shaking slightly and Bakugou sneered. After a moment, Deku turned around and Bakugou’s grin fell from his face.
Deku looked… well he looked pissed, but the kind of pissed that goes so far beyond anger and straight into righteous fury.. He didn’t even look like the Deku Bakugou had known his whole life. The anger in his eyes sent a shiver down Bakugou’s spine that he had to fight to keep hidden.
“I’ll shut up, but I want to say one thing first. And you’re,” Deku stalked forward, poking Bakugou in the chest hard. Bakugou didn’t move as Deku took a step back, “going to shut the hell up and listen to me for one in your fucking life, Kacchan.”
“I don’t know how you got it in your head that I think I’m better than you. My whole life, all I wanted was to be your friend. I cared about you and I looked up to you because you have always been so cool and so strong.”
Bakugou watched as Deku paced the common room, alternating between running his hands through his hair and clenching his fists by his side.
“But I am so sick,” Deku sighed, “I am so sick of being your punching bag. My whole life, I’ve done nothing but be nice to you and try my hardest to just get you to tolerate my presence. And what have I ever gotten in return? ” he asked, all but spitting the words at Bakugou.
Bakugou’s eyes widened as Midoriya tugged his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. He opened his mouth to ask what the fuck he was doing when Deku spread his arms out by his side.
Bakugou couldn’t help but stare at the milky expanse of skin, covered in freckles and moles, but also in scars. Some Bakugou knew about. He knew about the ones that came from his quirk, the jagged lines that covered his hand like lightning bolts. But there were others he hadn’t seen before. Raised, ugly scars that looked blistered and raw, despite obviously being years old.
“I never said anything because I cared about you. I dealt with the pain of your quirk because I thought someday, maybe someday you’d apologize. But you never have, not even once. I dealt with getting burned by you for years,” Deku gestured at a particularly nasty scar on his shoulder and Bakugou couldn’t help but widen his eyes as he stared at it. He had done that?
“And that isn’t even the worst thing you’ve done to me,” Deku said, laughing as he spoke. He let his head tilt back, obviously blinking back tears. Bakugou just stared, unsure of what to do or what to say, if he should even say anything at all.
“You know, when you told me to take a swan dive off the roof, I really considered it,” Deku said simply. He perched on the edge of the table, staring down at his hands as he spoke. Bakugou felt his stomach fall. He hadn’t expected him to bring that up, and fuck had he actually thought he was serious?
Bakugou stared, mouth slightly open as Deku continued. His mind conjured images of Deku on the ground, body broken and bloody after he had jumped off the roof of their middle school. Maybe he’d have a suicide note tucked in his pocket that told everyone why he jumped. Bakugou felt bile rise in the back of his throat and he swallowed, trying his hardest to push it back down.
“I even went up there, you know, that night.”
Bakugou felt his eyes widen further. He was going to be sick.
“I stood on the edge of the building for hours, trying to convince myself to take that step. One step, I told myself, and it would all be over. Maybe you would have been right, and in another life, I would have a quirk and I’d finally be useful,” he laughed. It was hollow and bitter and it made Bakugou’s chest ache.
“And the worst thing is, the only thing that stopped me was that if I died, I’d never see you again. You told me to kill myself and the only reason I didn’t was that I would miss you too badly if I died. How ridiculous is that?” Deku ran his hands through his hair. “Anyways, I get it now. You hate me and you probably always will. I’m sorry Kacchan, I wish I had it in me to keep trying to get you to love me back but I just don’t. I won’t bother you again,” he said, bending to pick up his discarded shirt. Bakugou watched as he pulled it back on and continued cleaning as if nothing had happened.
He didn’t say a word the rest of the day. Not to Bakugou, not to his friends when they got back to class, not to anyone. The common room had never been so quiet.
Bakugou stared at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, his mind running at a thousand miles an hour. He should have been asleep hours ago, but he couldn’t quit thinking of Deku’s words. He couldn’t forget the sound of his voice when he admitted he almost killed himself but didn’t because he would miss Bakugou too much. The way he admitted that he loved him.
He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what kind of love Deku meant, but his brain was fixated on it either way. How could Deku love someone like him? He said it himself, Bakugou had done nothing but bring him pain and sorrow.
Bakugou didn’t deserve his love. The realization hit him so hard it made his chest ache. Deku loved him and all Bakugou did was ruin him. Bakugou was hard to love. He drove everyone away eventually, but Deku had always stayed. And now he wanted nothing to do with him.
He felt his eyes start to sting, the telltale pinprick of tears starting to form. He didn’t bother wiping them away, just let them blur his vision until his ceiling was unrecognizable.
He tried to look at his hands through the tears. His palms were sweaty, just like they usually were, and he let them ignite, just a tiny pop of an explosion that wouldn’t even be loud enough to make Iida come to check on him. He felt sick as the explosion left his hands. His hands, his quirk, everything about him had been the thing to ruin Deku. He altered him physically, covered him in scars, and finally, Deku seemed to realize Bakugou just wasn’t worth sticking around for.
He was surprised by how much it hurt. He had always been so mad at Deku. He had always been pissed at him, but the more he thought about it, he realized he couldn’t really pinpoint why Deku made him so angry. He had always assumed it was because Deku looked down on him.
He always looked at him like he was this precious, breakable thing and Bakugou had taken that as pity or some other ridiculous emotion. But god, what if… what if he had been wrong? What if it wasn’t pity at all? What if this whole time, Deku had been looking at him with love?
It’d be easy to misinterpret, as the love Bakugou was used to wasn’t soft looks and a hand held out to help him up, it was yelling and a smack across the head, fond looks hidden behind feigned anger.
Fuck. He had fucked up so bad. And he had no idea how to fix it. He didn’t know if he could, even if he tried.
He didn’t sleep well that night. His mind showed him image after image of Deku’s broken body rising up and taunting him as he bled out. He was so far away, but he was still reaching out to Bakugou, just like he always had. And this time Bakugou tried to reach back. But every time he got close enough to reach for his hand, Deku would move further and further away.
He felt like he’d never catch up.
The next morning was hell. Bakugou was irritable. He didn’t know if it was from the lack of sleep or the anxiousness he felt. He didn’t know what to expect when he saw Deku again. Things were different now. Deku had finally snapped. He had finally had enough of Bakugou. He wasn’t sure how things would be now.
When he got to class, Deku was sitting in his seat, scribbling down notes. He didn’t look up as Bakugou slid into the seat behind him. He didn’t tell him good morning like he usually did, didn’t try to make idle chit chat with those around him. He just sat there quietly, pen moving quickly across the lines of his notebook. Usually, the room would be filled with Deku’s quiet mumbling, a gentle buzz that they had all gotten used to and come to appreciate.
Everyone seemed to take notice of its absence. Bakugou felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He hated the quiet. He had always been loud, his life had always been loud. Whether it was from him yelling or Deku talking his ear off every day since they were brats. He wasn’t sure how to live without the noise.
His classes went by painstakingly slow. Getting through each class felt like a miracle. He thought he was going to lose his mind by the end of the day, so when Kirishima approached him after class, grabbing him by the elbow and steering the both of them into an empty hallway, he didn’t even have the energy to blow up at him. He couldn’t even pretend to be angry.
“What’s wrong with Midoriya?” Kirishima asked. His face was laced with concern, staring into Bakugou’s eyes with so much concern he had to look away. Bakugou worried his lip with his teeth, leaning back against the wall.
“I messed up,” he said. He was surprised at himself for admitting it, but maybe he just needed to say it out loud.
“What did you do?”
“What didn’t I do is the better question,” Bakugou muttered, plucking at a stray thread on his uniform sleeve. Kirishima didn’t answer, just cocked his head and stared. Bakugou let his head thunk back against the wall.
Stupid Shitty Hair. He was always being considerate. It grated on his nerves. Bakugou didn’t deserve kindness. He deserved someone beating the shit out of him until he was black and blue and all he could do was choke on his own blood as he tried to apologize.
“We have, I don’t know, fuckin’ history or whatever, and our fight brought a lot of things back up. Stupid shit I did and said. And I can’t take it back. It’s already been said and done, so I don’t know how to fix it,” Bakugou said. “I don’t know if he even wants me to.”
“I’m sure he does, man,” Kirishima said, grabbing onto Bakugou’s shoulder and squeezing it tight. “You just have to actually put in some effort. It isn’t as easy saying sorry and moving on,” Kirishima gave his shoulder one last squeeze.
“Just give it a shot at least,” he said before moving away to walk back towards the dorms.
Bakugou stood alone in the hallway for what felt like hours before he could get his feet to move. He walked for a while. He didn’t even know where he was going. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He just wanted to go somewhere. He just needed to move.
It went on like that for weeks. Deku slowly started to talk more, only really to Iida and Uraraka, occasionally Todoroki and a few of their other classmates. He purposefully avoided any situation in which he would have to utter a single word to Bakugou.
It was driving him nuts. And he hated himself for it. The silence was deafening. Deku’s constant chattering being suddenly stripped from his life made his skin itch. He felt like a piece of him was missing.
He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t fix things. The only thing he was good at, the one quality that people both loved and hated him for, was his destructive nature. He broke everything, burnt it to a crisp under the fire that glowed beneath his skin.
But god , he wanted to try. He felt like he was going crazy without Deku talking to him. Before...before he had always been annoyed. He’d been quick to roll his eyes or tell him to fuck off but he had always listened, even though it made him angry. And now there was nothing to listen to.
No one was critiquing the way he used his quirk, telling him good morning, or offering to buy him lunch on the weekends. This constant thing he had always had was gone. He had prayed for this day, had wanted this cursed silence for so damn long. All he knew… all he knew was that he needed it back. He had to get it back.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew he fucked up. He had always known that eventually, eventually Deku would wise up and realize he just wasn’t a good person. He would realize he had better options for friends than someone who harassed him constantly. He just never imagined how bad it would hurt when that day finally came.
He let himself wallow in it a few more days, let his mind torment him with thoughts of a broken Deku asking him why he had always been so mean, why he had never taken his hand or called him a friend. The nightmares got worse. When they finally got to the point that he woke up gasping, covered in sweat and so nauseous he couldn’t see straight, he let himself go to Deku. He was half asleep, but he wasn’t surprised when he ended up at Deku’s door. He stood there for a while. He considered barging in and demanding that Deku talk to him, but he knew that would get him nowhere.
Finally, he knocked on the door, crossing his arms, an excuse already on his lips. He didn’t know how to apologize, not properly. Apologies to him were forgetting something happened and unspoken promises to do better. A yelled invitation to go grab one of the sweets his mom bought him and her careful cuffing on the back of his head as he devoured them, never bothering to say thank you.
But Deku was different. He had always been different.
He was caught off guard when Deku opened the door, too lost in his own thoughts to actually pay attention.
“What is it?” he asked, voice clipped and forced. It grated on his nerves. That wasn’t how he should sound. He should sound happy and elated, excited to see him, his eyes all lit up and shiny.
“I need to talk to you,” Bakugou finally replied. “I know you probably don’t want to, but I have some things I need to say, and… I would appreciate it if you’d just hear me out,” he muttered, staring down at his feet as he spoke.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Deku said, still not moving from the doorway. Bakugou felt his chest tighten.
“Please,” he said, finally looking up to meet Deku’s gaze. His stoic mask dropped for a second, surprise painted across his features before he steeled his gaze again.
“Okay, but I’m not fighting with you again, I’m done with that, so don’t even think about starting that up again.”
He moved from the doorway, letting Bakugou in and closing the door softly behind him. He stood awkwardly next to his bed as Bakugou looked around, taking in the sheer amount of All Might merchandise scattered around his room. It looked like All Might himself had come in and thrown up everywhere, but Bakugou didn’t mind it. It was fitting.
Finally, Bakugou turned to face Deku. He was staring at him, obviously worried about what Bakugou had to say.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Bakugou admitted. He worried his lip between his teeth, trying to swallow the pounding in his chest before it exploded out of him and filled up the room.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Deku said, voice a little softer this time. Bakugou dug his fingernails into his palms. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Deku being nice to him after everything he had done.
“All that shit you said the other day,” Bakugou started, wincing as he felt his nails slice into the calloused skin of his explosion-worn palms, “I can’t get it out of my head.”
Deku cocked his head to one side but didn’t respond. Bakugou was silently grateful. Talking about feelings was like pulling teeth and it fucking took a while. He had to force the words out.
“I didn’t… I thought you thought you were better than me. I really did. I got my quirk and everyone thought I was so cool. All these people wanted to be my friend and they changed the way they acted around me. You didn’t, though. And I think my dumbass kid brain took that as you not seeing me any differently, even though everyone else did. And I,” Bakugou paused. He didn’t know how to say this.
“I thought that you were always looking down on me. I felt so small when you looked at me. I still do. You looked at me like I was this wonderful thing that needed to be kept safe and it made me feel weak. I didn’t like it.”
“I never looked down on you,” Deku shook his head, sighing in frustration. “I never did. I thought you were the coolest person in the world before your quirk manifested. Why would I act any different after?”
Bakugou ran his hands through his hair, tugging on it until his scalp burned underneath his calloused fingertips.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying! I don’t get it, why did you feel like that? What makes me so special?” Bakugou asked, voice rising on its own.
He didn’t understand. His chest felt tight and he felt like crying but also like he was going to pass out. He knew he must look insane, hair messed up and eyes wild as he paced across Deku’s room, but he didn’t care. He had to know why.
“I don’t know Kacchan,” Deku said, his voice soft and sad. Bakugou felt tears well up in his eyes and he blinked them away before they could fully form.
“I’ve just always loved you I guess.”
Bakugou’s head whipped up so fast his neck cracked, the loud ‘pop’ of his joints breaking the silence that had fallen across the room. Bakugou was positive Deku could hear his heart pounding - there was no way he couldn’t with how hard it was beating against his ribcage - threatening to explode out of his chest right then and there.
“I’m not fucking stupid, so don’t think I am, but what the fuck do you mean when you say that?” Bakugou asked. His voice was too harsh, too loud. He couldn’t help it. He was so overwhelmed, he felt like he’d been having this conversation for hours and it had only been minutes.
“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I thought you knew, thought maybe that was why you hated me so much,” Izuku said, leaning back against his desk. He said it so simply that Bakugou thought maybe he misheard him, that maybe he hadn’t just confessed that he was in love with him.
“You… love me?” he asked. He couldn’t even bring his voice above a whisper. He felt like he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, like if he made any sudden movements he was going to scare Deku away.
“I always have,” Deku said, sighing sadly. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I just wish you would at least stop giving me shit about it.”
Bakugou was crossing the room before he could think. His body moved on his own until he was standing right in front of Deku, all but caging him against the desk.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered, “I didn’t fucking know that. How was I supposed to know that?”
Izuku rolled his eyes, and there was a tiny bit of fondness there that made Bakugou want to scream.
“Everyone knows, I guess I just… assumed you did too.”
“You never fucking said anything about this until a few weeks ago, how the hell was I supposed to know?” he asked, his voice desperate.
“I’m sorry, I just thought you didn’t want to talk about it or that you hated me for it so I never - mmph.”
Bakugou surged forward, grabbing Deku’s face and kissing him. Deku gasped and Bakugou nipped at his lower lip, tugging at his hair and pulling him impossibly closer. Izuku’s eyes finally slid closed and he started to kiss back, running his hands over the sides of Bakugou’s neck before they found purchase in his hair, tugging on it in a way that had Bakugou groaning.
Finally, Bakugou pulled away, resting his forehead against Deku’s as their breaths intertwined between them.
“You stupid nerd,” he said, “you should have just told me.”
“I really thought you knew, Kacchan,” Deku said, his voice still full of that same apologetic tone from earlier. That brought Bakugou back to his senses and he pulled back just a bit. He didn’t make it far. Izuku clutched at his arms in a feeble attempt to pull him back in.
“I came here to apologize and all I’ve done is interrogate you,” Bakugou said, looking away from Deku again. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t change much, I did things… and I said things that are unforgivable. I know I did. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t deserve it regardless, but I needed you to know that I’m sorry. I never meant…” he trailed off, throat closing up around the words as his mind was filled with the sound of his own voice telling Deku to jump off the roof.
He was surprised when Izuku grabbed his face and squished it between his palms.
“I forgave you years ago, but I appreciate you saying it. And don’t say you don’t deserve it, it’s my forgiveness to give out. I decide who I get to forgive, and I forgive you,” Deku said, letting go of his face and leaning forward to hug him. It was surprisingly tight, almost knocking the breath out of Bakugou as Deku wound his arms around his waist. He was holding him so tight like he was afraid if he loosened his grip Bakugou would run away again.
“I don’t know,” Bakugou muttered, speaking against Deku’s hair. “I don’t know if I love you, not yet at least. I don’t know how it works, how any of this works. But… I want to try, y’know, this. Us. Being together,” He said it so quietly he wasn’t sure Deku even heard him until he spoke up a few moments later.
“So do I. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Izuku smiled, leaning up to capture Bakugou’s lips again.
Bakugou smiled into the kiss. He didn’t know how to do this. He couldn’t forgive himself for the things he had done and the things he had said all those years ago. He didn’t know how to love Deku - how to love Izuku. But at least now, trapped in the warm embrace of the boy who had always loved him, he felt like maybe...maybe he could figure it out. At the very least, he knew one thing for sure.
He was going to be the best fucking boyfriend Deku ever had.