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There were many things that came easy to Bakugou Katsuki, but apologising was not one of them. The word ‘sorry’ always felt like acid on his tongue. It was easier to stay aloof and pretend he didn’t care than to admit that, sometimes, he cared a little too much.
Playing the same role he’d always played—the cold and uncaring kid who strived to be on top and wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to get in the way of that—was easier than accepting the truth. The truth being that he was changing—growing—as a person. He wasn’t that same middle schooler who bullied Deku for being quirkless anymore, even if he still pretended to be. The problem was, he had been acting for so long, he didn’t know how to stop.
He didn’t know how to tell Deku he had been wrong.
Katsuki had been thinking a lot about it all since the Kamino Incident. It kept him awake at night. The unwavering confidence that had fuelled his entire life had been shattered, crushed underfoot until it was little more than dust. Coming to U.A. and finally meeting people who could rival him had sent him crashing to earth, and things had only gotten more real since. As Aizawa had told him, he’d been a child. That had been one of the first blows to his pride, and they’d just kept coming since.
He’d had no choice but to expand his horizons and see that he wasn’t what he’d believed he was, what people had always told him he was—the best of the best.
That, perhaps, believing he had been superior to everyone had made him, well—an asshole.
That, perhaps, every time he had pushed or yelled at Deku, he had been hurting himself almost as much. That thought, in particular, had been a hard pill to swallow.
Katsuki had spent so long telling himself that Deku was a pebble in his way, something to be kicked aside and otherwise ignored, he’d almost believed it was true. He could have kept on thinking it was true if it weren’t for Deku getting into U.A.
If it weren’t for All Might.
If it weren’t for Deku himself. Stubborn, brave, reckless, heroic Deku, who wasn’t a pebble at all. If anything, he was a diamond, forged under constant pressure and stronger for it. Katsuki wondered how long he had known this. He’d been in adamant denial for so long it was hard to decipher at what point he’d realised that he didn’t hate Deku at all, but rather hated himself for the way he always treated him.
With a growl at his ceiling, Katsuki sat up, throwing his legs over the side of his bed. With his mind whirling as it was, sleep would be impossible. What he really wanted to do was blast something (or, better yet, someone), but he figured ravaging the kitchen to prepare a decent breakfast for the extras would be just as efficient. Cooking helped clear his mind, and more than anything, he wanted the tsunami of guilt crashing down around him to calm.
He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to stop hating.
Hating everything. Hating every one. Hating himself, most of all.
“That shitty nerd’s gotten into my head,” he grumbled furiously to himself as he made his way down from the fourth floor. As expected, nobody was up, the communal area dark and almost eerily quiet. Katsuki wasn’t used to it being empty; usually, there were at least two people around at any given time. More often than not, most of the extras were about, all of them noisy and over-enthusiastic and chatting nonsense about stuff Katsuki didn’t give a crap about.
Katsuki had gotten used to the background noise. Liked it, even. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.
Heading straight to the kitchen, Katsuki figured he’d make a full, traditional breakfast. He had just enough time to get everything prepared before the early risers woke. He’d go all out: grilled fish, fermented beans, pickled veg, miso soup and, of course, rice. That should be enough to drown out his thoughts and keep his mind occupied until classes began and his brain had no choice but to shut the hell up and give him a break.
He could do this. He was stronger than this weakness that plagued him. He was more than his negative thoughts of All Might. Of Deku.
Of himself.
Perhaps he wasn’t the strongest or the best like he’d once believed, but that didn’t mean one day he wouldn’t be. He would keep pushing; he would go Plus Ultra until he could finally be the man—the hero—he wanted to be. And he would do it all without becoming like that fucking asshole Endeavor.
Perhaps he was a little too angry as he began chopping vegetables, which was why he didn’t hear the footsteps.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki tensed at the name, his grip on the knife tightening hard enough to turn his knuckles white. What the fuck was Deku doing up? His bedroom might have just been on the floor above, but Katsuki hadn’t been loud enough to wake him even with his furious chopping.
“Stalking me, shitty nerd?” he grunted finally, not turning around. Taking a steadying breath, he continued chopping. He wouldn’t let Deku get to him. He wouldn’t be riled up just by his very presence…
“I came down for a drink,” Deku said. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be up.”
“That’s my line.”
Deku walked over hesitantly, leaning on the kitchen counter. Katsuki’s back stiffened under the watchful gaze, making him stand straighter, but he otherwise didn’t acknowledge Deku.
“You’re cooking.” His voice sounded tight, thick from sleep, no doubt.
“Obviously.”
“Can’t sleep?”
Katsuki ground his teeth together, trying so damn hard not to explode and round on Deku with threats of death. He needed to stop being so defensive, especially around Deku. It was reflex, but he was sure if he turned around to look, he would see Deku flinch at his harshness.
Katsuki didn’t want to hurt Deku anymore.
Sometimes, though, it was hard to help it.
“Obviously,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He hoped Deku would hurry up and get his drink so that he could stop being so damn on edge.
Deku didn’t seem to take the hint, though. “Want to talk about it, Kacchan?”
Why? Why was he always so nice? So forgiving? Katsuki didn’t deserve any of it!
Rounding on Deku, knife brandished—not that he would ever use it—Katsuki froze as he caught sight of Deku, or, more accurately, his eyes. They were red and puffy, as if he’d recently been crying.
Katsuki’s arm lowered. He couldn’t stop staring, his gaze so intense that Deku seemed to shrink away from it, confused by the unexpected reaction. “Kacchan?”
Katsuki sniffed, trying to pretend he didn’t care, trying to pretend that the thought of someone or something making Deku cry didn’t make his blood boil. That he wasn’t desperately trying to decide how best to find out who it was so that he could kill them. “What’s up with you, nerd?”
“Nothing,” Deku said, shaking his head and convincing no one. Katsuki attempted to bridle his irritation at the lie before his hands started sparking, and Deku thought he would go off at him.
It wasn’t Deku he wanted to explode into oblivion right now.
“Bullshit,” he snarled, completely failing to tame his fiery temper.
“I just had a bad dream, is all,” Deku mumbled, averting his eyes. Katsuki’s lips pulled into an ‘O’ as he failed to hide his surprise. It was stupid to think that, after everything they’d been through, he was the only one plagued by nightmares but somehow, it had never occurred to him that Deku might also be haunted by failure.
Katsuki hesitated. He could tell Deku everything was alright (even though it probably wasn’t), or he could confess that he, too, had nightmares. Instead, he snapped, “Come here and wash the rice!”
“Kacchan?” Deku jumped at the abruptness of it, eyes startlingly wide, like green lagoons for Katsuki to fall in and drown.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, shitty nerd!” He jerked his head to the rice sitting on the counter, ready to be washed and loaded into the cooker.
“R-right!” Deku hurried over, eyes fixed to the floor, and busied himself with the rice.
They worked in silence for all of two minutes before Deku cracked. “Kacchan?”
“What!?" Rein it in Bakugou, you moron. Katsuki cleared his throat, trying to pretend that his cheeks weren’t burning. “What is it?” Much better. He didn’t look up from the fish he was lightly salting.
“Are you still—uh, do you still blame yourself for All Might?” Katskui felt his teeth crunch together as he bit back the urge to snap. He wasn’t even sure which way his anger would have gone: Of course not, fuck off, nerd! or Yes, it was all my fault.
“It wasn’t your fault, Kacchan.”
“I know that,” Katsuki said stiffly. It didn’t mean he didn’t blame himself for it. It didn’t mean he didn’t lose sleep wondering how he could have done things differently. He’d always thought he was the best of the best, but he’d been entirely fucking useless that day. Just like he’d been altogether pathetic the day he’d first met All Might, back before U.A. had even accepted their submissions. The day that quirkless Deku had acted like a prize fucking idiot and rushed in to save him while the so-called pro heroes stood around umming and ahhing. Katsuki still hadn’t unravelled all the emotions he’d felt when he’d seen Deku run towards him that day, but he knew it wasn’t all anger and wounded pride. There’d been hope mixed in there, relief too. Fear. And something else…
Deku turned away from the rice cooker. Katsuki couldn’t stand that look in his eyes. It made his blood boil, made him want to fight and kill.
(Made him want to kiss the spot between those wide, beautiful eyes, like some sort of soft fucking idiot that he most certainly was not!)
“Don’t you fucking pity me,” he growled, his fingers itching to spark up, ignite and bring the whole damn building down around them.
Why was he like this?
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Deku assured him. Katsuki still wasn’t used to this Deku. This Deku who didn’t flinch at his temper, who didn’t look frightened at the thought of being shoved. This Deku, who didn’t irritate him with every move he made—although perhaps that had more to do with Katsuki changing than with Deku.
“Tch, whatever.” He looked away quickly, returning his attention to the fish, suddenly unsure he could survive another minute of eye contact with Deku. Another minute of that intensity, and he’d kill Deku, or himself, or, hell, he’d take them both out just to put them out of their misery.
Because Katsuki had realised it for a while now, realised what he’d been blind to for years: he’d never hated Deku. Even when they were children, and he’d thought Deku less than a pebble for him to trip over, he hadn’t hated him. If only Katsuki had bothered to stop and investigate for more than a heartbeat, he would have seen the truth.
The truth was that Deku kept the world spinning, held air in his lungs and, recently, was pretty much solely responsible for keeping Katsuki’s palms sweating despite the plummeting temperature.
Katsuki hated it. He hated that someone held so much power over him.
Yet, if it had to be anyone, he was glad it was Deku.
“Listen, Deku,” Katsuki said abruptly, his fingers curling around the edge of the countertop. He could feel that surprised, intense gaze on his back, burning between his shoulder blades, and suddenly, he was terrified to turn around. He kept his eye down, watching the fish he should have started grilling by now as he tried to find the strength to summon the words he needed to say.
“I’m sorry, okay!” It came out too angry, but Katsuki was glad when he managed to squeeze the words past the block in his throat. Had he ever said sorry to Deku before? It tasted foreign on his tongue, but not quite as acidic as he’d expected. No hole had been burned through his tongue. He hadn’t even dropped down dead.
“Sorry… about what?” Deku asked quietly, sounding genuinely confused. Damnit, why did he have to go and make this more difficult than it already was?
“You know what, you damn nerd.” Katsuki finally turned around, locking his gaze with Deku’s.
Don’t make me say it.
Deku’s face softened with realisation. “It’s okay, Kacchan. I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Why?” The question came out strangled, and Katsuki hated how weak it made him seem. Why couldn’t they just fight it out? Beat each other to a bloody pulp. That would be easier. That was a language that Katsuki could understand. This—
“I understand you better than you think,” Deku said. “You think I don’t get you, but I do. I always have to an extent, and, since coming here to U.A., I’ve begun to understand even more.”
Katsuki wasn’t sure how that made him feel, being seen like that. Vulnerable, perhaps. He didn’t like it, but, at the same time—
He swallowed noisily.
“You should hate me,” he said.
“Why?”
“I hate myself,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. What was his over-exhausted brain doing to him? Four AM Katsuki was almost like an entirely different person, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It was too unfamiliar, too weak.
Katsuki wasn’t weak, and he didn’t like feeling that way.
“Kacchan…”
Now that he’d started, though, Katsuki wasn’t sure he could stop. “You always made me feel so far behind,” he admitted. The words tumbled out of him like he was an overflowing sink. “Even though I was ahead for so many years, you didn’t make me feel that way. You were just this little quirkless loser, yet you always tried to help me if I tripped or stand up to me if I was a dick. I couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand why you always got back up when I pushed you or why you chased me when I tried to run. I was so much better than you. We weren’t even on the same level—”
“Kacchan…” Katsuki shook his head, and the argument died on Deku’s lips.
“Then we came here, and you started proving me wrong, and I hated that. I hated that I had been so sure I knew the way of the world, only to discover I didn’t know shit. I wasn’t some fucking king. I wasn’t even the strongest in the class, let alone the world. I lost everything I thought I had, even my superiority over you, and that made me so fucking angry.
“And you just continued to show me just how wrong I had been. You kept saving me and beating me, and… fuck!” Katsuki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Deku took a hesitant step closer to him, and Katsuki realised he was crying, the frustrated tears leaking out of him without his permission.
“This wasn’t how any of this was meant to go,” he said, voice cracking. “I was meant to be on top, but you’ll always be ahead of me, Izuku.”
Deku froze mid-step, eyes becoming impossibly large at the use of his name.
“You’re a better hero,” Katsuki continued, using his arm to swipe at his tears but refusing to allow them power over him. “A better person than I could ever be.”
“That’s—” Deku (it felt weird not calling him Deku. Katsuki wasn’t sure he’d liked it. It felt wrong, somehow, despite the origin of the nickname) tried to protest.
“It’s fine,” Katsuki said before Deku could say anything stupid. “I’ve always known it. I just didn’t want to admit it. It scared me. You scared me.”
“I scared you?” Deku repeated blankly. Katsuki laughed without humour.
“You fucking terrify me,” he said. “You’ve always threatened everything I was so sure about.”
“I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologise, you idiot. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“You don’t need to be,” Deku said.
“But I do!” Ah, and there was his anger back. Katsuki sighed and, surprising them both, placed his hands on Deku’s shoulders, staring down at the smaller boy with a scary intensity. To his credit, Deku didn’t squirm away.
If Katsuki was going to do this, now was the time.
“You’ve always been so far ahead of me,” Katsuki said. “It made me angry, because anger was easier to swallow than the goddamn fucking awe you also made me feel. Why was this quirkless boy offering me a hand when I fell and making sure I was okay when every goddamn-body else just assumed I was fine? Why did this boy keep getting back up when he should just learn to stay down in his place? Ugh. You made me so fucking mad, Deku because you kept impressing me so fucking much.”
“Kacchan…” Deku didn’t seem to know what else to say. He stared up at Katsuki, impossibly huge eyes filled with a mixture of emotions Katsuki couldn’t decipher.
“Even now, you keep impressing me. You keep showing me how much further I need to go if I want to catch up.”
“It’s me who needs to catch up,” Deku tried to protest. “I’m so behind everyone else—especially you, Kacchan. You’re amazing. You always have been.” Katsuki snorted at that. Did they really both feel so inadequate compared to the other? What a fucking useless pair they made.
“You do need to learn to use that fucking quirk of yours without killing yourself,” he agreed. Deku giggled (Katsuki’s stomach twisted at that because, well, fucking adorable. Ugh), and his head came to a rest against Katsuki’s shoulder in an action that made them both tense. They had gotten so close without even noticing it—Katsuki’s hands tightened on Deku’s shoulders in an attempt to hide their tremble.
“De—Izuku,” he breathed out, wanting to admit one final thing before he lost his courage.
“You can call me Deku,” Deku said, keeping his face buried against Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki could practically feel the burn of his cheeks through his t-shirt. “Izuku sounds weird coming from you.”
“Are you sure?” After all, Deku had always been a slur, a way to bully him. Deku may have claimed the name as his own, but it would always have bad connotations concerning Katsuki. It didn’t matter that Katsuki preferred Deku over any other name. It had to be Deku’s choice.
“Mm.”
Katsuki hesitated before letting go of Deku’s shoulders and wrapping his arms around him instead. Deku tensed momentarily, and Katsuki almost scrambled away, sure that he was mistaking the moment, sure that he was wrong. But before he could back away, Deku’s arms wound around his waist, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Just like that, they were hugging, holding tightly to each other as if they could erase years of bad memories if they only squeezed hard enough.
“Deku,” Katsuki tried again, resting his chin on Deku’s curls. “I think… Ah, I think mostly I’ve been a jerk because I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“This?” Deku mumbled into his shirt.
“Don’t make me say it, you shitty nerd.”
“Say what?”
Katsuki scowled, angrier at his own shortcomings than at Deku and his innocent question. “Do you really not know?”
Still plastered against him, Deku peered up, grinning in a way that did funny things to Katsuki’s body.
“I like you too, Kacchan,” he said.
Katsuki’s lips twitched. “Who says I like you?” The words were out before he could stop them, but he clung tighter to Deku as he growled his lame protests.
“If this is a new murder technique, I think it could use some work.”
“Why? You wouldn’t see it coming,” Katsuki said.
“True. Not sure many villains would let you get this close, though.”
“I have my ways.”
“I’m sure you do,” Deku agreed. “But Kacchan?”
“Mm?”
“Before you kill me, could you kiss me?”
Katsuki spluttered and buried his face in Deku’s hair again to hide his blush. He felt Deku laugh against his chest. “When did you get so bold?”
“I learned from the best. It’s okay if you don’t want to, Kacchan. I understand, and we can take this slowly, see where it goes.” Fuck. There was Deku being too damn understanding again. Katsuki hated it and loved it all at once.
“I don’t know how to do this. Do us,” he admitted quietly, ashamed to be admitting such a weakness.
“And you think I do?”
“I don’t know. You seem to have things more put together than me,” Katsuki grumbled. It was Deku’s turn to snort.
“I thought you were smart?”
“I AM smart.”
“Then you must be blind.” Deku’s arms loosened around his waist, and he drew back. Katsuki missed his closeness instantly.
Had he fucked up again?
Deku didn’t go far, though. He moved Katsuki’s hands from his shoulders and entwined their fingers together between them.
“I know I like you, Kacchan,” Deku said, “but beyond that, I haven’t got a clue. This is all very new, but I would like to figure it out together. Uh, that is, if you want to as well…?” He looked adorably flustered, only just managing to maintain eye contact, though his gaze kept drifting as if it were a real fight not to look away.
“Tch,” Katsuki grunted, turning his head to the side in an effort to look cool and indifferent. He didn’t let go of Deku’s hands. “I guess, whatever.”
Deku squeezed his fingers, and Katsuki’s gaze snapped back to him. “If you want,” Katsuki said, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t hammering so hard against his chest he was afraid it would smash right through his ribs, “we could try that kiss now?”
Deku nodded, and time seemed to stop. Katsuki shuffled closer again, until their feet knocked together. He moved their entwined hands to Deku’s waist, bumping him even closer. Everything about their actions was clumsy, showing that finally, they were as inexperienced as each other in at least one thing. Katsuki didn’t close his eyes as their noses bashed and their teeth clinked as they tried to find the right angle, but with a subtle tilt of his head, he slotted their faces together like two puzzle pieces, and everything else clicked into place. Deku’s lips were soft and sweet against his own, his breath still slightly minty from his toothpaste. It made Katsuki’s own lips tingle, and he finally closed his eyes, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he allowed himself to be drawn in and swallowed whole.
Katsuki let go of Deku’s hands and curled his fingers around his back, gripping him tightly as though he was afraid Deku would vanish without him there to anchor him to the world.
It wasn’t long before they had to come up for air, but it felt like forever. It felt like there had never been a moment before that second where their lips hadn’t touched and, without the closeness, Katsuki felt suddenly lost. He rested his forehead against Deku’s as he panted, a desperate need to be as close as possible consuming him. This close, their foreheads pressed, Katsuki could drink in every inch of Deku’s face. Every small scar and dimple, every freckle that blurred and danced across his flushed cheeks.
“I like that better than fighting,” Deku said quietly, opening his eyes to peer up at Katsuki.
“I do too,” Katsuki said, then frowned. “Tell anyone that, and I’ll kill you!”
Deku laughed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Katsuki’s lips, rendering him dumb. “I don’t think anyone would believe me anyway,” he said.
“Good. Can’t have the extras thinking I’ve gone soft.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Deku agreed playfully.
“I’m not soft, you hear? Just because we kiss now, it doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill you during our next training session!”
“I’ll just have to try and beat you first then,” Deku challenged, struggling to contain his smile at Katsuki’s throwaway line about kissing.
“As if you could, shitty Deku!” His hand slapped down on Deku’s head, but his lips tugged into a grin, and he ruffled the already messy curls.
A beat passed, and Katsuki frowned, his hand still resting on Deku’s head. He still had more to say, he realised. More he had to acknowledge.
“What is it?” Deku asked, worry pulling at his face. Fear, too, like he was afraid Katsuki had suddenly had a change of heart.
“About before—”
“It’s fine, Kacchan,” Deku said quickly, realising where Katsuki was going.
“It’s not! I treated you like shit for years.”
“Mm, you did,” Deku agreed because there was no point in arguing something they both knew to be true. “But I forgive you.”
“I need to earn that forgiveness,” Katsuki snapped, suddenly angry at how naïvely understanding Deku was being. As Deku opened his mouth to protest, Katsuki shook his head, glaring down at the smaller boy. “Goddamnit, listen to me! I need to say this, okay?” Deku nodded, and Katsuki chewed his lip as he struggled with the words. Deciding it was better not to think about it too much, he just said what came to mind. “I’m never gonna be soft, okay? That’s not me. I probably won’t stop calling you nerd, either, because you fucking are one. But the other stuff— Crap, what I’m saying is… I won’t hurt you, okay?! I won’t push or shove you—well, except for in training. I’m still gonna kill you there! Just watch, I’ll murder you dead and—” Katsuki cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he realised he’d gotten distracted.
“Look, what I’m saying is I know how I treated you was wrong. I was an asshole, and I kept hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want to be that guy again. So I’m gonna make an effort, but I need you to stop being so damn forgiving and stand up to me as well, okay? If it’s gonna work between us, we need to be on equal footing.”
“Okay,” Deku agreed seriously, and damn if Katsuki didn’t want to try kissing him again.
However, before either one of them could say or do anything else, the rice cooker pinged, drawing them back to reality. “Shit,” Katsuki grunted, staring at the still uncooked fish left abandoned on the side. “You fucking distracted me, idiot.” Just like that, the serious moment had passed, and normality seemed to roll back over them.
“What have you got left to do?” Deku asked, trying to suppress his grin and failing magnificently. “I’ll help.”
“You will not,” Katsuki snapped.
“You’re a real fiend in the kitchen. You know that, right?”
Katsuki’s smirk turned dangerous, and he pulled Deku close to him again, kissing his neck. “I’m a fiend in general. You think you can handle that, nerd?”
“You’ve had fifteen years, and you haven’t killed me yet,” Deku pointed out. He was getting cocky; Katsuki would have to deal with that.
Later, though.
He gave Deku’s neck a slight nip, enjoying the squeak it encouraged from him and then shoved the other boy away. He’d have to work on being gentler. That could come later, too. For now, Katsuki had other priorities.
“Get out of my damn kitchen, nerd. I’m making breakfast.”
“The fact that we kiss now doesn’t grant me kitchen rights?”
“Absolutely fucking not. Go get your water and sit down.”
“Sheesh,” Deku grumbled, but he was still smiling. “Oh, by the way, Kacchan?”
“What?!”
“Next time you can’t sleep, you can just knock on my door, okay?” Katsuki didn’t know what or if Deku was implying anything, but his face turned the shade of a tomato, and he sparked his hands threateningly, eyes narrowing to slits. As he loudly shifted his attention back to the breakfast feast he was cooking up, Katsuki heard Deku laugh.
All in all, things could have gone worse, Katsuki figured, briefly glancing back up and over at Deku, who had done as told and was sitting patiently at the table.
Neither of them had died.
Yet.
With Katsuki, it was probably only a matter of time, but that was fine because he knew he wasn’t the only one who had changed. He had a feeling this new Deku would give as good as he took.
And didn’t that just excite the hell out of Katsuki.