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In all things, Katsuki Bakugou is relentless in his pursuit of excellence.
His relationship with 2-A is no exception.
Katsuki is keenly aware that softness and sentimentality do not come to him easy. Growing up in a household with a harsh mother and a soft father has affected him far more than he'd like to admit. He knows that words hold weight. Even though his partners see his exasperating nicknames as water under the bridge, there's a part of him that regrets starting off so wrong-footed. Despite knowing so little about him in the beginning, they put up with so much of his faults, made space for him when he didn't know he needed it himself. He'll spend the rest of his life being grateful for their grace.
So for them, he tries. Tries even though it's the clumsiest he's felt in his life. Tries even though he feels like he constantly falls short of the mark. In the quiet of the early mornings he reaches for whoever falls within reach, soft from sleep, plies them with morning kisses on their foreheads. He cooks them breakfast with a stern, 'I didn't waste all this time at the stove for you to skip breakfast. Don't be an idiot; eat.' When he passes them in the halls, he grabs their hand, squeezes it 3 times. He often fights against the urge to snarl and snap when one of them puts an arm around his shoulder or his waist. In private, it's a different story. He spends most of his time tucked into someone's side, draped across their lap, or sitting in between someone's legs.
He leaves them their favorite dish either in the fridge or on the table when the day has veered off course for any of them. He helps Momo, Hanta, Eijirou, and Tsuyu brush out their hair on particularly trying days. Izuku, Tenya, Shouto, and Hitoshi talk his ear off when the circles underneath their eyes grow a little too dark for his liking. The whole 'flowers-and-chocolate' dance as a form of treating and spoiling his partners irks Katsuki; most store bought chocolates are subpar to him and flowers require a studied hand, none of which he knows his partners have.
He prefers to give his partners makeovers anyways and that means showing off each of the striking features he loved best. Momo's natural beauty is enhanced by soft glam, the small wings and rose gold shimmer emphasizing her round eyes. Her face lights up in shock at her vanity mirror as happy tears bead at the corner of her eyes. She sashays slightly in her maroon, floral sundress with white strappy sandals, laughing lightly as her shiny, raven tresses sway. Beside her is an equally just as affected Eijirou, who's in disbelief at the person staring at him in the mirror.
Red, soft voluminous hair is parted to the side, falling on one shoulder. He's clad in a black, short sleeved button up and dark wash slim fit jeans with grey low top canvas sneakers. His eyes are subtly lined with smudged kohl, bringing out the carmine in them. Both of them simultaneously envelope him in a hug, causing him to drop his brushes. He pecks their cheeks, murmuring "You look gorgeous."
For all the work he puts in for them, he wishes it came naturally. He knows if he had to deal with his emotionally stunted ass, he would've left a long time ago. But they love him so much, that their affection for him still rings in the dark corners of his mind, in the recesses of his heart as an impossibility. You'll wake up one day and they'll be gone, the voice taunts, cruel and mocking. And he goes to war against it the same way he handles his fights on the battlefield. There are times, however, when he falters devastatingly.
For those times, he's always found them at his back, fighting just as fiercely alongside him.
"Deku, Deku, Deku," goes the beat of his heart. It spills out from his lips against heated skin as he tucks his face in the crook of his beloved's neck. He pulls him tight to his body until he feels like he won't float away, until he's slowly convinced that reality hasn't conspired to have him believe that Izuku is just an apparition. His skin buzzes as tendrils of desperation and want linger on his skin. Each shaky breath balloons his lungs against his ribs, making his chest grow tight, overwhelmed with so much emotion.
"I'm right here Kacchan," Izuku croons, cradling Katsuki's hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles. He presses his face into those spiky blonde locks and inhales deeply. They lay on Katsuki's bed, ensconced in each other's arms, basking in the soft Sunday rays. Katsuki pulls back from Izuku and drowns in emerald orbs. Izuku smiles, affectionate and tender as he skims his fingertips from temple to that sharp, gorgeous jaw. Katsuki captures his lips messily, pressing their bare chests together, body heat seeping through their shorts. He tangles a hand into green curls, tugging slightly. It wrings a soft gasp out of Izuku, has the boy hooking a foot around Katsuki's ankle to pull him even closer.
"Stay with me," he breathes out tremulous, against sticky, kiss swollen lips. He feels the warmth in and all around him, how it gently blankets him and his Izuku. Mornings like these bring him beyond what his heart can't handle. In this moment, everything feels like it's too much and not enough. He wants to take Izuku under with him, wants to drown with him in these wells of emotion. I love you, I need you, you're the bastard that stole my heart, if you leave me I will kill you, Kami-sama please, let me spend the rest of my life cleaved to him, swirls around and around in his head, curls around his heart. He never knows, too often for his liking, how to best show him these things that are so irrevocably pressed into his soul.
It's when Izuku squeezes his hand three times and syncs his breathing up with his, murmurs I love you against his forehead, that Katsuki senses that he's known these things, has known for as long as they've existed together.
It started as an inadequate supply of pencils. From there, he got an answer wrong in English. Fueled by one errant night in which he couldn't get sleep for some godforsaken reason, he slipped up several times in Heroics, Izuku easily going in for the kill in every instance. Quirk Law had him grinding his teeth and nearly snapping his pencil. By the end of the day, he had to take a breather in the men's restroom, close to blowing a gasket at all of the ridiculous things that had transpired. Tears bead at the corner of his eyes as Denki and Hanta sit on either side of him, shoulder to shoulder. Eijirou sits in front of him, a knee pressed up against his chin, holding Katsuki's hand while they breathe together.
"It's okay, Kacchan. We got you," the electric blonde quietly intones, head nestled on Katsuki's shoulder. He draws circles on his wrists, breathing in his caramel and butterscotch scent.
"Just breathe, baby." Hanta runs his fingers up and down his arm, drawing nonsensical patterns. Eijirou glances fondly at his partners for a moment, then focuses back on Katsuki.
"One more breathing cycle, 'Tsuki. Let's do this." Eijirou squeezes his hand as the blonde follows his movements.
"Is it a bit better, at least for now?" Katsuki can only nod, brow a little less furrowed in stress. They rise and head towards the exit. Tenya, Tsuyu, Ochako, Shouto, and Izuku greet them just outside of the threshold. All it takes is one look from Tsuyu. She holds her arms open and Katsuki comes running into them, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Terrible day, darling?" She passes a hand over blonde spikes, pulling the incendiary boy closer to her.
"Fucking terrible." His reply is muffled, but their group doesn't care. Tsuyu's brand of affection is a favorite among the polycule. She is straightforward but patient and doting in the way she cares, keeping their tanks of physical touch and affirmation filled while doing the same for her. Katsuki loves the way she sees right through his bullshit, how she continues to ground him when he has these unmoored days. She pulls apart from him, cradles his face with both hands.
"Tell you what, after training, you wanna hangout with us in the common room? We don't have to do anything as a group during that time, love. We'll each be doing our own thing while still keeping you company, if that's what you want." Katsuki nods emphatically. Izuku lays a hand on his shoulder, head motioning towards the training grounds. He reluctantly pulls away from her. She gives him a small, soft smile and kisses him on the cheek. They head to their respective training sessions at the TKL, each of them, with the exception of Deku and Eijirou, squeezing Katsuki's hand before peeling off from him.
Katsuki finishes his session with his Deku and Eijirou without too much trouble. They gather in a circle, stretching together and trading stories about how Cementoss and Present Mic's latest sparring demonstration nearly shattered a good fourth of Ground Gamma. Eijirou merely laughs and shakes his head, declaring that it was a manly show of strength. Deku offers swift tidbits of analysis on the fight. Katsuki tunes it out, feeling like he's running on fumes. When they notice, they cut the stretching session a little short, Denki pulling Katsuki up as he laces their hands together. The pair make their way to the dorms, the rest of the group falling closely behind.
It is then, the rest of that hectic Friday afternoon, that finds Tsuyu sitting on his lap on the common room couch. Deku and the same group sit around him in a messy half-circle, surrounding him. Arms laced around her waist, he presses the side of his face to her back, eyes closed. He turns his face to breathe her in, petrichor and ozone filling his lungs. Today left him rubbed raw from all the little, compounded stresses. Tsuyu turns to face him in his lap and presses gentle lips to his forehead and leaves them there for a moment. She then holds his face in her hands, gazing into red eyes.
"I know it's not my fault, but I'm sorry you had to experience so much frustration with your day. Days like these happen every so often and I’m glad we get to help you through them now.” She holds him to her chest, pressing the side of her face into blonde locks. “It has me worried though for how you coped before you met our class.”
“I suffered through it.” There is a bit of dryness to his tone, but not by much. It has Izuku sighing “Oh, Kacchan,” and the rest of his partners gazing at him with compassion and sadness. Eijirou rises to situate himself next to Katsuki, shoulder to shoulder, and draws Tsuyu’s legs into his lap. Hanta sits on the other side just as close and wraps his arms around Katsuki’s waist. Izuku nudges at his knees and sits in between them, pillowing his head on one thigh. Denki sits on the other side of Katsuki’s leg and lays his head on the other thigh. Tenya, Ochako, and Shouto kiss him on each cheek before laying each of their heads in Izuku’s lap.
“Life as We Know It is currently on. We can watch that, if you want.” Tsuyu points the remote at the TV as it comes to life, the picture fading into an infomercial on the latest culinary gadget. Katsuki shrugs, tugging Hanta and Eijirou tighter to him, soothed by the closeness of them and his partners. Hanta draws patterns with his index finger on his waist as Eijirou runs a hand through his hair. Denki clings to his leg, breath tickling the fabric of his black sweatpants. Izuku traces figure eights near his knee absentmindedly as he runs the other hand through Ochako’s hair. He finds himself not really caring about watching the slice of life show too much; it's time he gets to spend with them, the time he gets to revel in their affections. Tsuyu switches the channel, landing on the show as it plays through the intro song. Hitoshi greets them from the side, coming in from a recent workout. He takes one look at Katsuki and walks over to him, caressing the side of his face as he presses his lips to his forehead.
“Shitty day?” Hitoshi lets his hand rest on the blonde’s temple, staring at the TV with the group.
“Mmm,” Katsuki intones, leaning into the touch.
“Come sit with us,” floats up from between Katsuki’s legs, warm and indulgent.
“Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll join you,” Hitoshi returns with a soft smile. 15 minutes later, Hitoshi pads down the stairs and over to them, sitting on the other side of Katsuki’s leg, drawing circles near his knee with the pad of his thumb.
“Thank you,” he breathes out, once there’s a lull in the sounds filling the common room. “I know it’s not the easiest thing, dealing with my grumpy dumbass--” He lets out a sigh, fatigued and shaky.
“It’s not, but you do your best, Katsuki. We love you, regardless.” Tsuyu feels muscular arms wrap around her waist, tight, as the blonde presses a kiss to the middle of her back. She feels Eijirou shift beneath her as he, and those who are touching Katsuki, snuggle closer to him.
It is around 1 AM when they finally arrive back at the dorms.
Cricket song fills the air and a cool breeze blows through the trees as 20 worn, ragged bodies make their way past Heights Alliance's threshold. Most of them pick at their torn costumes, some at their broken or frayed masks as they breathe in the calm atmosphere of their abode. They stick close to one another with murmurs of 'are you alright?' and 'I'm so sorry' as they do their best to decompress and process what happened. Katsuki stands off to the side, lost in his head. Guilt, self-loathing, and anger writhe in his chest and runs amok in his veins. The tense shoulders near his ears and his downcast eyes are not lost on his partners. They've held off on voicing their concerns, knowing the blonde hated being vulnerable out in the open. Here, in spite of the fear that claws at his heart, he knows he is safe. He closes his eyes against the wave of emotion threatening to drown him.
“Why are you with me?” The phrase is full of trepidation and weariness. The red eyes that look at the group reflect pain and doubt. How could they choose to still love him, to still want to be with him after so much of his ugliness was revealed? The imprint of his old self echoed painfully against a heart that fought so much to change. He wanted their love, wanted so much to feel worthy of it and deserve it. How could he, now that his demons were exposed to the sunlight?
“Because we love you, Kacchan.” Izuku declares, hopeful and strong. Green eyes lock on to red ones, unwavering in their gaze. “Our Kacchan loves us too, in the best way that he knows how.” A bitter laugh escapes the blonde.
“It is definitely not the best, considering the shit I put you through,” is the harsh retort that pops out of his mouth.
“Well, the Katsuki I know still tries his damndest to do the best that he can. The Katsuki I know pushes through all of that and does a phenomenal job of letting us know that we’re loved.” Tsuyu’s tone brooks no room for argument. She, as well as the other 19 souls, have seen the effort Katsuki has put forth. They’ve seen him push past and practically climb over his emotional walls to connect with the ones he loves the most, knowing it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. She looks around and sees various eyes connect with hers, determined to not let their Katsuki go.
“We knew who you were before all of this. You’ve revealed it to us before and you’ve changed so much. The fact that you take a step forward each day towards who you want to be shows us that you won’t let your past define you, Katsuki.” Shouto pins him with dual-toned eyes, relentless and fiery. One of the loves of his life is giving in to such falsehoods and he’s just not having that, especially after all they’ve gone through together.
“How can you choose to be with me when you’ve seen the worst of me?!” The shout booms through the dorms along with the abrupt spark-off that shatters the window closest to him. They’ve seen the way he treated Izuku, the scars he inflicted on him, the cruel words he threw at him, the senseless way he treated others in his pursuit to become the number one hero. It was all laid bare with a single intrusion into his mind.
You think you’re scot free, don’t you? I honestly, truly wonder how your partners would react if they saw how the great Bakugou Katsuki was before he went on his little reform bender. Mirage’s taunt still echoes in his mind along with the images of his past deeds pulled out of him, laid bare in the sky like a film projection for his partners to see.
You’re all so happy. You truly love and cherish one another. How precious! I’d like to see how much your grand love would stand against...all of this. Mirage gives a distorted, haunting voice to every fear she pulls out of them. Every moment they’ve had when they were less than noble, less than kind, the moments that were left shrouded in darkness came to life with every flick of her wrist. Every ungainly, painfully awkward image of their past was laid bare in the same way Katsuki’s was. The subsequent battle after such an invasive event was long and drawn out. Not only had Mirage chosen to inflict her quirk on the young heroes, but also on innocent civilians. It made enemies where there shouldn’t have been any and caused incalculable damage beyond the physical. All of this plays back in his mind as well as his partners’ minds, an unhappy reel left to unfurl in the background.
Katsuki’s chest heaves with each labored, shaky breath. Tears brim at his eyes, the emotions beneath his ribcage burning through him like a brand. He pulls at his hair, dropping to his knees.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Katsuki--” Hitoshi tries as he makes his way towards Katsuki.
“You can’t be with me. I’d only destroy us in the end.” It is the quiet, hushed tone that steals the breath out of the room, that stops Hitoshi in his tracks. Katsuki Bakugou is hardly ever quiet. He is loud and boisterous, the center of attention in any show. He shines brighter than any star in the sky, burns hotter and faster than any fire ever made. Quiet can only ever mean two things with the spiky blonde: Either something is brewing beneath the surface or something has died within Katsuki. The latter did not usually bode well for him. It is with this knowledge that Mina leads the charge, along with Shouji, Ojirou, Tooru, Fumikage, Kouda, Satou, Kyouka, and Aoyama, to take their first steps towards their wounded partner. They each kneel in a half-circle, an arms length away from him.
“My Katsuki does not give up easily,” Mina begins as she places his hand in hers. “I’d like to think his stubbornness got us this far.”
“My Katsuki is relentless and I like a partner who is like that.” Shouji places his hand softly on the side of his face. “I’d like to think his persistence in showing us that he’s ours got us this far. Plus, he values honesty. I don’t think he’d appreciate making a liar out of one of his partners when I say he only fervently pursues those he loves with all his heart.”
“My Katsuki is strong,” Ojirou declares, sure and simple, as he places a hand on his knee. “I’d like to think his strength of character is what keeps us from ever doubting we’re worth something, keeps us believing we’re on our way to something good, if we continue to stay and tread on the path that we’re on."
“My Katsuki leads well,” Tooru takes his other hand and kisses his knuckles. “I’d like to think his ability to take charge has guided us well through our partnership with one another. When he sees one of us falter, he does his best to make sure we’re heading towards our goals again."
“The Katsuki I know, my Katsuki, is confident.” Fumikage places his forehead on the blonde’s, one careful hand at the nape of his neck. “He’s confident because he’s earned it. He works hard to be able to show his prowess off on the battlefield. Off the battlefield, he works equally as hard to show that he knows how to treat his partners well.”
“My partner Katsuki has a good heart.” Kouda signs animatedly. “I see it in the way he takes care of my animals, how he tends to my wounds and everyone else’s wounds after a particularly rough battle, and how he reminds us, in his own way, that we all have a hero’s heart.” He places a hand on his other knee.
“My Katsuki is sweet, if you know what to look for.” Satou tips up his chin with gentle fingers, gazes into glassy, crimson eyes. “When someone’s had a bad day, not only does he cook their favorite dish for them, he makes sure it’s to their taste. He may grumble about having to brush through ‘a shit ton of hair’ when it comes to Momo, Eijirou, Hanta, or Tsuyu, but it’s always with deft, soft fingers. He may call us ‘idiots’ or ‘dumbasses,’ but it’s always ‘my idiots’ or ‘my dumbasses.’” He places a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Katsuki, mon amour, ma chérie, mon loup,” Aoyama croons, winding his arms around the boy’s neck. “My Katsuki, above all, sees us for who we are and still loves us. Not only that, he fiercely defends us with everything he has in our times of need, in or out of battle. Notre vaillant protecteur.” Aoyama grabs both of his hands and kisses them.
"My firestarter, my Katsuki." Jirou smiles, despite the tears that threaten to spill. She places her hands on both sides of Katsuki's face and slowly runs her thumbs against defined cheekbones. "My love listens well. When we talk to him about our concerns, our doubts, about the little things that get under our skin from day to day, he lets us know that he's here for us. I see it when he helps 'Zuku sort out his notebooks. I see it when he trains with me, when he tells me to make my sound wavelengths shorter or louder. When Tenya confesses that he might not be doing a good job as class rep and a legacy hero, he tells him to 'cut that shit out, how could you doubt yourself with a class ranking like yours?'" Her partners laugh a little at her Katsuki impersonation, the blonde himself included. "When Shouto and Eijirou lean on him in the common room, he may scowl, but he lets them stay close to him. He sees every one of our idiosyncrasies. You see us for who we are, Katsuki, and you accept us so well." Kyouka places tender lips to his forehead as the tears finally spill out of their partner. The rest of his partners rush to surround him, kneeling and enveloping him in a group hug.
“Like hell we’re gonna lose you to something like this,” Hitoshi laces his hands with Katsuki’s and squeezes, hard, three times.
“We’re not giving up on each other just because of what happened tonight, and we’re not letting you give up on us, Kacchan.” Tears stream from Izuku’s eyes as he holds his beloved’s head to his chest. “What’s behind us is behind us and should stay there,” he declares ardently. “If we don’t love each other when we’re like this now, then we won’t make it through to see the calm after these storms.”
“I love you.” Izuku looks everyone in the eye as he says this. “And I love you.” He cradles Katsuki's face in his hands, looking into tired, half-mast eyes, then glances back at his partners. “I want to go through this life with you as my friends, my life partners, my lovers, my companions, however you want me, for as long as you’ll have me.” He pecks Katsuki on the lips. “And that goes the same for you, Kacchan.”
“You’re stuck with us now, Bakubro.” Eijirou gives a watery, sunny smile despite sniffling a bit, even as he wipes at his nose. Katsuki can only roll his eyes, but a small smirk plays at the corner of his mouth.
“Tch, guess I am.”