Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Neither of them could really remember when it started. 

It was just… something they’d done forever. The concept of not doing it hadn’t even crossed their minds.

Izuku’s first memory was of Kacchan. Holding his hand, hiding in a bush so their teacher wouldn’t find them. Even now, a decade later, he could still feel the soft hand clenching around his. Could still remember the smell of wet dirt and the leaves scratching his cheeks. Izuku would bet that Kacchan’s first memory was of him, too. No matter where they ended up, how they grew, they were always orbiting each other. 

Since no one had ever been brave enough to ask Kacchan about it, no one knew the reason why . At this point, Izuku had certainly forgotten, and he would bet that Kacchan had, too. 

Why, at the end of every day, they walked the same path home. They always walked in silence, without a glance at the other. No matter how bruised or burnt Izuku was, or how pissed off Kacchan was. They walked. 

Why, when they reached the fork in the road, one side Kacchan and one Izuku , they would turn towards each other, still silent, and kiss. A mom kiss, a peck on the lips so quick it could hardly even be called a kiss , but still. They kissed.

Then they would go on their separate paths home. 

Up until Izuku was about 9 years old, he’d never even realized that kissing your former best friend turned bully on the mouth was… strange, to say the least. Then Kacchan’s friends saw it and suddenly Izuku was aware . They’d been standing back and to the side, and Izuku came up from the kiss to see shocked, disturbed looks on their faces. Looks that vanished the moment Kacchan turned back to them, but Izuku had seen them. Suddenly, he was uncomfortably aware that this was weird, right? Most kids don’t kiss anyone on the mouth, especially not the person that bullies them. 

More than weirded out, Izuku had been scared. Because as soon as Kacchan came to the same realization that Izuku had come to, he would be furious. Kacchan was the kind of person that was convinced everything he did was the right thing and nothing he did could ever be construed as cringy or weird and if he even got an inkling that something he was doing was strange… Izuku lost a lot of sleep that week, stricken with terror, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for one of his other friends to mention it. But as the weeks turned to months and months to years, Kacchan never said anything. Never hesitated to lean over and peck Izuku on the mouth, never looked even slightly embarrassed.  

Izuku tripped over a rock, shaken from his reverie. He was trying to find a way to work All Might’s training around his daily ritual with Kacchan without revealing too much to All Might. Even though Kacchan didn’t realize that what they were doing was a bit abnormal, Izuku was still very much aware , especially since the older they got the more people could interpret their ritual in a… different way than is intended. 

He could probably just tell All Might that he couldn’t come to the beach until half an hour after school, but then he might want to know why. Which then Izuku could say he had an errand to run but what kind of an errand do you have to run every day? Or he could just ask for privacy, but honestly Izuku didn’t know if he was bold enough to stand up to All Might like that. Plus, the Hero was giving him this awesome gift, so keeping secrets, as harmless as they might be, could indicate that he wasn’t the kind of Hero All Might was looking and he’d decide to not give Izuku One For All and–

“Shut the fuck up, Deku,” Kacchan’s brash voice busted through his mutterings.

“S-sorry, Kacchan!” Izuku squeaked, covering his mouth with his hands. He really needed to get that habit in check. 

“We’re here,” Kacchan pointed to the fork in the road, voice clipped and angry. He’d been simultaneously angrier and more mellow since the sludge villain attack. Walking home had been filled with a tense atmosphere, but Kacchan had actually talked to him a few times. The new developments were surprising but not entirely unwelcome.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry, Kacchan, I was thinking about something–” He was cut off by Kacchan grabbing his shirt and pulling him forwards, pecking him quickly, then pushing him away. Kacchan was always the one to lean down and peck him. For one, Izuku was pretty short and standing on his tip toes would be pretty humiliating, and another was that Kacchan was competitive to a fault, and Izuku knew that if he made their ritual even slightly competitive, it would devolve into chaos.  

“I got better things to do then hear about your nerd thoughts, Deku,” he growled, stomping up the Kacchan path.

Mouth feeling a little bruised, Izuku stammered out an awkward ‘goodbye’, waiting until Kacchan was out of sight before turning around and heading to Dagobah Beach. He knew All Might would understand he had a commitment. A Hero has duties to fulfill, after all. All Might would get it, even if Izuku didn’t tell him exactly what ‘it’ was. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

Izuku stood in front of UA, trying his best to hold in his tears. Hands clasped around his backpack straps, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He’d never seen Kacchan this upset before. Izuku watched as he stomped away, scrubbing his face. 

The mock battle was an eye opener for both Izuku and Kacchan. Izuku finally had a power of his own. For the first time in his life he was on an even playing field. He got to start fresh, since no one but Kacchan and All Might knew about his previous quirklessness, and so no one treated him as less than or something to be pitied. It was wonderful . 

But ever since Izuku had gotten his acceptance letter, Kacchan hadn’t walked him home. Hadn’t stood at the fork or kissed him goodbye like they’d been doing all their lives and Izuku felt wrong . He went to bed feeling like there were ants under his skin and woke up feeling like someone had stirred up his insides with a blender. He’d never felt so out of sorts, not even when he broke nearly all of his limbs using One For All the first time. 

So watching Kacchan walk away again, especially after they’d finally talked and listened to each other, felt awful . 

Izuku felt tears start to drip down his face, hot and sticky. A sob was caught in his throat, threatening to come out. There was a pain in his chest and he felt physically sick. Was this it? Was their ritual over, after all this time? Would they never stand at the fork in the road, one side for Kacchan and the other for Izuku, ever again? The sob escaped, and Izuku hunched over, hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the sound.

“What the fuck are you crying for, shitty Deku. Hurry up.”

Izuku looked up, eyes wide. Kacchan was standing in front of him, face slightly blotchy but he was pretending like it wasn’t by scowling extra hard. But he was there .

“K-Kacchan–” Izuku choked out, feeling another round of tears coming on.

“Oh my fucking god, if you don’t stop crying I’m leaving without you,” Kacchan turned around, stuffing his fists in his pockets. 

“C-coming! Wait!”

Their walk was silent, like usual, but the tension wasn’t there. It was almost peaceful . By the time they got to the fork, Izuku had almost managed to dry his tears, and Kacchan had taken his hands out of his pockets, posture relaxed and open. 

Izuku wiped his eyes again, standing still, waiting for Kacchan to lean down and peck him like usual. He did, but not in his usual half a second “ basically punching my mouth with his ” peck. Instead, Kacchan tipped Izuku’s chin up, the kiss soft and about 2 whole seconds long. 

Eyes wide in shock, all Izuku could do was watch and Kacchan stepped back, not sparing him a glance, and then walked up Kacchan path. His eyes followed the blond up the path, fingers grazing over his tingling lips.

As the first few weeks at UA passed, the more and more Kacchan kept giving him the nice, soft kisses, rather than the typical quick pecks. The sick feeling that had been sitting in Izuku’s chest had not only completely disappeared, but had been replaced by an ever present warmth. He felt borderline giddy at the end of the school day, and it was getting harder and harder to tone down his excitement. These new soft kisses were practically the best part of his day at this point.

That warmth in his chest was strengthened by the fact that Izuku had friends now. Uraraka and Iida and Tsuyu and even Todoroki sat with him at lunch and let him ramble and actually listened to his ramblings– needless to say, he was over the moon, even regarding the villain attack at USJ. 

“So does that work for you, Deku?” Uraraka said, leaning towards him.

“Ah I’m sorry Uraraka, can you repeat that?” Izuku said, bashfully shoving some rice in his mouth.

“No worries, Deku! Iida was thinking that we need some extra studying for the exam, but my apartment’s too small to fit all of us and Iida’s brother is at home recovering, so do you mind if we use your place? If not, that's totally cool! We can come up wi–”

“No that’s totally fine I’dlovetohaveyouguysoveratmyhouse–” Izuku rushed out all in one breath. He hadn’t had friends over to his house since he was four and Kacchan came over for his birthday. He tried to calm the excitement rising, telling himself act cool don’t weird them out DON’T be weird–

“Um, ahem, I mean, yes! You can come over. Let me just text my mom real quick to let her know!” His friends ( squeeee! ) smiled at his antics, texting their respective parents as well, food forgotten.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go,” Todoroki said quietly. “My dad wanted me home earlier today for training,” he said ‘training’ like one would say ‘being tortured’ or ‘stabbed’, “So you guys go ahead. Take some notes for me, okay?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Todoroki!” Iida chopped the air passionately. “I will be sure to send you all the notes I take tonight at our study session!”

“Midoriya, kero, can you send the group chat your address so we can send it to our parents?” 

As Izuku sent the necessary details, he felt so flustered and happy he didn’t even stop to think about one important aspect.

They were coming home with him. From school. Walking. To his house.

Lunch passed quickly, and before he knew it, school was over and Izuku was waiting outside the gates patiently waiting for everyone to show up.

“What the fuck you waiting for, nerd?” Turning to the owner of the gruff voice, suddenly Izuku was hit with a realization. Oh no .

“UH Kachhan! I was just waiting for, UHH, well you see I have, uh, a–”

“What the fuck did I say about your mumbling, shitty Deku!” A few explosions popped in the air as Kacchan lost his temper.

“Kacchan, wait I need to–”

“Deku is everything okay?” Izuku turned to see Iida, Tsuyu, and Uraraka standing by the gate, frowning at Kacchan. 

“Everythings fine! I just forgot to tell Kacchan,” Izuku glanced at said angry boy, whose hands were popping threateningly, “about our study session!” Looking pleadingly at him, Izuku tried his best to convey “ I’m very sorry please don’t explode me.” Kacchan clicked his tongue, obviously pissed off, but nodded his head minutely. Sagging with relief, Izuku turned back to his friends. 

“Alright let's get going!”

The walk to his house was awkward. Everytime Uraraka would try to talk to Kacchan, he’d just growl and turn away. Iida was doing his best to maintain a professional atmosphere by planning exactly what they’d be going over during the study session, and Tsuyu kept glancing between Izuku and Kacchan in a way that was making Izuku’s palms sweat.

His pulse quickened when he saw the fork in the horizon. Honestly, while he knew Kacchan was a bit oblivious to the whole kissing thing, to the point where Izuku didn’t even know if Kacchan knew what they were doing, but he had to realize that doing it in front of other hero students wasn’t a good idea, right? The fork got closer and closer and Izuku felt confident that Kacchan would just go down the Kacchan path without their kiss. While the thought of skipping it hurt, unsurprisingly he felt his eyes sting a little when reminded of The Dark Days of No Kacchan Kisses, it was for the greater good–that being both of their reputations and the sanity of his friends.

They reached the fork and, by habit, Izuku turned towards Kacchan, but he expected a scoff or maybe even a regular goodbye. 

Of course, Kacchan is the smartest and stupidest person on the planet, so he leaned down, gave a harsher kiss than usual, then turned and stomped up Kacchan path.

Izuku felt his insides curl up and die. 

He turned towards his friends. All of them had their jaws open in shock and Uraraka looked like she was about to pass out. Iida was the first to recover, sputtering and chopping his hand.

“That was an extremely inappropriate display of public affection! That is not the way in which hero students should conduct themselves–”

“I’m sorry, what the actual fuck was that–”

“That was somehow surprising and exactly what I was expecting, kero.”

Burying his hands in his face, Izuku let out a groan of embarrassment. Goddamnit, Kacchan .

School the next day was more stressful than any villain fight. His friends didn’t tell anyone, thankfully, but they kept giving him and Kacchan weird, knowing looks. He knew that they weren’t satisfied with his explanation last night, mostly because he didn’t really explain more so fluster around and mumble incoherently and be on the verge of tears until they agreed to let the subject go.

Kacchan was completely unaware of the commotion, which was totally unfair because this was entirely his fault. 

Izuku felt like he was stewing in embarrassment all day long, and every time he made eye contact with Uraraka, Iida, or Tsuyu, it all came rushing back and he’d have to look away lest he start crying. 

A part of it was that he didn’t know how to explain it. He knew what they were thinking, that he and Kacchan were in some tumultuous romantic relationship and were afraid to show it, but it wasn’t like that. They weren’t even “friends” in the strictest of terms. They were… they just were Kacchan and Izuku. And the ritual was just their thing . He felt like no one could understand their dynamic and it was impossible to explain and he didn’t want to explain because putting it into words was like describing a color or a feeling or language–it’s simple on the surface, i.e. Kacchan and Izuku are childhood friends, red is red and tree is tree, but once you try to dig deeper, ask why , it’s hard. Kacchan and Izuku are more than childhood friends. Sometimes Izuku feels like there isn’t a reality in which Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku do not Exist as One. It’s impossible to imagine, like a world where the sky is green and a tree is made of iron. 

After school, Izuku waited outside UA, biting the skin on his thumb and digging his foot in the dirt. He didn’t think Kacchan had noticed the weird looks his friends were giving him, but he felt like he should explain anyway. He either noticed today or he would eventually. And, even though it made his hands clammy and his pulse quicken, Izuku felt like it was time. They needed to talk about the ritual.

“Your dumbass friends coming again?” Izuku looked at Kacchan, who was scanning their surroundings with a glare. 

“Ah, no, Kacchan! I was just waiting for you!” Izuku tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. 

Kacchan clicked his tongue, turning towards the school. “I promised Shitty Hair I’d train with him today, so you can go fuck around with your stupid ass friends.”

Izuku froze, smile dying on his face. Oh. 

Right.

Kacchan had friends now, too.

Izuku wasn’t exactly sure why a small spark of something ugly came to life in his chest, but he squashed it as quickly as it appeared. No, I will not be upset that Kacchan has friends. This is a good thing. And he knew that it was! Objectively. 

He was brave enough to admit that he was a little jealous, though.

“O-oh, okay Kacchan! Guess I’ll just,” He awkwardly pointed a finger towards the road, “walk back by myself today, haha!” Oh my god I’m the worst person alive , he spun around on the balls of his feet, trying to pretend like he wasn’t acting like some jealous school girl with a crush. 

“Oi, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Izuku looked to Kacchan and back towards the road. “Uhh, home? I still have to study for the exam…” He trailed off, confused. Did Kacchan want to train with him?

Huffing, Kacchan walked over, glaring down at him. 

“Kacchan, are you okay? Do you want to talk about...” He searched for a tactful way to say “the Kiss” but couldn’t think of anything. 

Kacchan rolled eyes, then leaned down and gingerly placed a kiss on his mouth. His lips were softer than usual, and he smelled like his usual burnt caramel and… was that…? Without thinking, he flicked his tongue and licked Kacchan’s mouth.

“Your lips taste like cherry today, Kacchan!”

They had parted but were still face to face, so Izuku could see the pure rage flow across Kacchan’s face.

“THE FUCK YOU SAY, SHITTY NERD? I’LL KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS!!”

Backing up frantically, he tried to salvage the situation, “NO Kacchan I, your, you-your lips were softer than usual and so I AHHHH I’M SORRRRYYYYYY!!”

Kacchan grabbed the front of Izuku’s uniform, swearing and threatening him with death. Oh I’m gonna die so bad.

Suddenly, Kacchan was ripped away from him, still screaming and ranting.

“Quiet down, I’m not paid to deal with this after school ends,” Aizawa drawled, his capture weapon holding Kacchan back from beating Izuku to death.

“I’m so sorry, Aizawa Sensei,” Izuku bowed, mostly so his burning face could be hidden, “I was just leaving and–”

“I don’t care, just stop screaming. It's 3 pm and I’m trying to sleep. Bakugou,” Aizawa held said angry demon boy closer to his face, ignoring the pissed off glare Kacchan gave him. “Stop yelling at Midoriya.”

Kacchan nodded once, not breaking his glare. Aizawa put him down, giving them one last glance, before letting Kacchan out of the capture weapon. 

“I won’t tolerate unsupervised fighting, so whatever issues you have with each other should be settled without fists or I’ll expel you.”

Without thinking, Izuku leaped over to Kacchan and placed a hand over his mouth. “SENSEI WE WEREN’T DOING ANYTHING AND I’M GONNA LEAVE NOW AND KACCHAN I’M SORRY–” 

“GET YOUR NERD ASS HANDS OFF ME SHITTY NERD!”

The capture weapon caught both of them this time, right as Kacchan lunged and wrapped his hands around Izuku’s neck.

“That’s it , problem students. I’m taking you to a teacher that can deal with this right now. You’re interrupting my sleep,” Aizawa said, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It’s not my fault the shitty nerd doesn’t know how to do the kiss properly,” Kacchan huffed.

Aizawa’s eyes wided minisculely. Which for him, was basically like screaming in shock. 

“The what ?”

“KACCHAN WAS JUST JOKING, HE’S SUCH A JOKER, HAHA KACCHAN YOU’RE SO FUNNY–”

“Midoriya, shut up,” Aizawa covered Izuku's mouth with his capture weapon, ”Bakugou, what do you mean when you say kiss ?”

Izuku was borderline hyperventilating, squirming around and staring Kacchan in the eyes, doing his best to convey “please stop talking” with his eyes.

Kacchan seemed to get the opposite message, though, and smirked, continuing the damning conversation.

“Our goodbye kiss. Damn Deku did it wrong today, fucking idiot that he is.”

Aizawa closed his eyes before letting out a long suffering sigh.

“I’m not paid enough to handle this conversation. Come with me,” he let them both down, ignoring the gasps of air from Izuku.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt like walking to the guillotine. Everytime Izuku would open his mouth, to escape or warn Kacchan or something , Aizawa would give him a look that screamed trouble and he’d shut his mouth for another couple minutes.

In the hallway to the teachers lounge, they came upon another surprise– Kirishima, in his workout clothes, obviously searching for Kacchan. He gave them a small wave, polite curiosity plastered on his face.

“What up Bakubro! You get in trouble with Aizawa sensei?”

“No, shitty hair, Deku was being a dumbass.”

Kirishima didn’t look convinced, but he just grinned and gave them a thumbs up. Aizawa looked between all three of them, seeing the relaxed attitude of Kacchan in contrast to Izuku, who was busy having a mini mental breakdown.

“Kirishima, come with us. I have a feeling you’re going to be able to explain this better than me.”

Ever the positive one, Kirishima trailed along like an adorable puppy, patting Izuku on the head in order to comfort him when he started hyperventilating again. 

Aizawa slammed the door open to the teacher’s lounge, and all the Pro Heroes in the room stood at attention. Unfortunately, nearly all of Izuku’s teachers were there, including All Might. I’m so royally fucked.

“Which one of you teaches sex ed,” Aizawa said. Izuku felt his soul leave his body as Kirishima whipped around to look at him, and Kacchan’s grumpy face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What’s wrong Eraserhead? Trouble in paradise?” Present Mic snickered, drawing the same conclusions that everyone else in the room came to. Where Present Mic looked like he was on the verge of bursting into laughter, all the teachers looked aghast. All Might’s coffee cup slipped out of his hand and shattered all over the floor.

Izuku furiously shook his head, because having all of his teachers and All Might think he was some sexual deviant was literally the worst thing that could happen to him, including death.

“Nononono you got it all wrong! It’s not- we’re not- STOP for a second –” 

“Midoriya, my boy, why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? You know I will fully support you, no matter who you love–”

“ Oh my god –” Izuku whimpered.

“And while I’m not happy that you were being irresponsible–”

“I’m literally begging you to stop. Do you want money?”

“I will continue being there for you, young Midoriya. Now, whichever of these young men is your boyfriend–”

“Cash? Do you want cash? I will run to the ATM right now, if you would please–”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you, my boy, I just want to make sure they’re treating you right!”

Izuku buried his face in his hands, silently begging the universe to strike him dead and kill him as quickly as possible.

 “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Kacchan’s voice boomed across the room, his eyes wide and, surprisingly, a light blush on his face.

“Bakugou, you told me you and Midoriya were kissing . You expect me to just ignore that and take you on your word that you’ll be safe and responsible?” Aizawa looked incredulously at Kacchan, ignoring the splutters of shock from the teachers in the room and Kirishima, who looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“I’M NOT FUCKING DATING THIS SHITTY NERD! IT’S THE FUCKING– THE THING! THE KISS THING!” Kacchan looked flustered and pissed, tense and spitting like a wild dog. Izuku could do nothing but watch, as he was astral projecting into a realm where this wasn’t happening.

“Bro, you and Midoriya were what? ” 

Kacchan grabbed Kirishima’s shirt, shaking him back and forth. “SHITTY HAIR, tell them it’s a fucking thing! The kiss thing!”

Kirishima looked even more flustered than Kacchan, and he gently placed his hands on Kacchan’s shoulders. “Dude, please explain what the ‘kiss thing’ is. I don’t think anyone in this room, besides Midoriya I guess, has any idea what you’re talking about.”

Kacchan scanned the room, taking in the shocked looking faces of his teachers and the pale, horrified face of Izuku.

“STOP FUCKING LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! It’s a thing! I’m not making shit up! I know people do it, I’ve seen people do it!”

“Bro, WHAT thing?!”

“THE FUCKING KISSING THING! ”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Aizawa scrubbed his face with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Bakugou, do you know what kissing is? What people who kiss are called?”

Kacchan scowled and crossed his arms, “Of course, I’m not fucking dumb.”

“Okay then, run it by me. Answer the question.”

“Everyone kisses, I know that. Why is this important?”

“Okay, I can’t do this. Kirishima, can you please explain what I’m trying to say?”

Kirishima startled out of his gawking, coughing embarrassedly. “Okay, Bakubro, let me put it this way: who have you seen kissing?”

“My parents, I guess.”

“No one else? Movies, TV shows, people on the street?”

“I’m not watching fucking chick flicks in my free time, shitty hair. And I’m not a goddamn creep, why would I watch random people in public?”

“Ugh, why are you–” Kirishima ran a hand through his hair, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it: the only people you’ve seen who kiss each other are your mom and dad. Your mom and dad are married. They are in a romantic relationship. Therefore…” He trailed off, expecting Kacchan to connect the dots. 

“Shitty hair, you’re even stupider than I thought. Of fucking course I know my parents are married, you dunce. But I’ve seen my mom kiss Auntie Inko, and she sure as hell isn’t married to her.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen my mom do WHAT?!” Izuku’s soul had finally returned to his mortal coil and by god did he wish it hadn’t. Kirishima’s dumbfounded sputtering and the raised eyebrows of the teachers were not helping Izuku calm down at all.

“Yeah, when I was a brat. You don’t remember that Deku? At the park? Why the fuck do you think I started doing the kiss with you?”

Izuku stopped breathing. The kissing had an origin story? 

He’d just always assumed that they’d just started doing it and never stopped. Not that it was some sort of copied behavior. But still, he’d never seen his mom kiss Auntie Mitski, especially not on the lips as some goodbye kiss.

“Fucking call your mom and ask her,” Kacchan commanded, still scowling. 

Izuku dug through his pockets and took out his phone, dialing his mom’s number as fast as he could. The teachers, who were now thoroughly invested in this drama, watched with bated breath as the line rang.

“Izuku? What’s wrong? You never call me this early.”

“Mom, I’m sorry if this is a weird question or inappropriate but do you remember when I was a kid maybe three or four years old back when me and Kacchan first became friends and we were at a park or something and Kacchan says this happened but I don’t remember it and he might be remembering it wrong or maybe it was with someone else or something but basically what I’m saying is have you ever kissed Auntie Mitski?” Even though most of what Izuku said was an incomprehensible ramble, his mom had a lot of practice filtering through and getting the gist of what he was saying, so while everyone else was scratching their heads and piecing together his point, his mom let out a shocked laugh.

“ Kissed Mitski? I never–” Suddenly, she cut herself off with a soft gasp. “Wait! I have! Katsuki is right! It was about 11 years ago, right when you started playing with Katsuki. We took you kids to the park, and Mitski had been working herself too hard around that time and was dead on her feet by the end of the day. I came up behind her to ask if she wanted to go home early and she thought I was her husband! Planted one on me!” His mom laughed loudly, sounding fond at the memory. 

“I didn’t make a big deal of it, I knew how exhausted she was. I don’t think she even noticed! Wow, I can’t believe I forgot about that.”

“Tha-thanks mom, I’ll call you, uh, later, byeloveyou!” Izuku hung up quickly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The room was silent, everyone uncomfortably aware of how embarrassing this situation was. Kacchan’s face was pale and drawn, his eyes wide in horrified realization.

“Bakubro, have you been kissing Midoriya all these years ‘cause you saw your mom do it once? ”

Kacchan didn’t seem to realize he was being spoken to. 

“Ka-Kacchan? Are you–”

An explosion had Izuku flying off his feet and onto the ground, the windows rattling and papers sliding off desks.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Kacchan roared, leaping at Izuku. “YOU’VE BEEN FUCKING WITH ME ALL THESE YEARS, HAVEN’T YOU?? LAUGHING AT ME BEHIND MY BACK!!” 

“No, Kacchan! I haven’t I swear I didn’t realize it was weird until a few years ago–”

“WEIRD?? I’ll show you weird you fucking–”

A putridly sweet smell filled his nose right as Kacchan threw the first punch, missing him by a centimeter. Izuku had two seconds to see the pitying faces of his teachers before he hit the floor, unconscious. 

When Izuku woke up, he could feel the animosity in the air, palpable and overwhelming. His nose was still full of Midnight’s sickly-sweet Somnambulist, and while normally, everyone that had been affected by her quirk woke up around the same time, Kacchan was amazing. He’d probably been awake for at least half an hour longer than Izuku.

Not that he’d let Kacchan know he was awake, now. Izuku was trying to not be suicidal, thank you very much.

With his eyes still closed, he tried to make his breathing as even as possible, despite the fear and despair coursing through his body.

This was the end of the kisses. For real this time. No more walking to the fork in the road, no more gentle kisses, no more of Kacchan’s anything. He’d probably never even speak to him again. Izuku could hear Recovery Girl in the hallway, helping other students, but he paid her no mind. The only person that mattered right now was physically separated by a thin white sheet, but, in every other way, was basically across the universe.

The animosity coming off of Kacchan was like the waves of a furious ocean, and even though it reminded Izuku of the horrific years of bullying he’d been through, he’d take it. If that was the only thing he could get from Kacchan, it was better than nothing.

Even though he was relatively still, his eyes were filling with tears and he had to subtly bring a hand up to clamp around his mouth and nose, stifling the beings of a sob. He hates me, he hates me, he’ll never talk to me again, my Kacchan–

“Oi, nerd. The fuck you crying for?” Kacchan’s voice was dangerous, sharp and full of hate. Hate.  

Izuku froze, still sniffling. 

“I-I’m sorry, Kacchan. I never meant  for this to happen, I-I-” a loud wail escaped him, and he couldn’t continue. All he could think, on a loop was, he’s never talking to me again, he hates me hates me hates me HATES ME–

Kacchan’s probably getting pissed at his crying. Curling up in a ball, his back to the curtain separating them, Izuku wrapped his arms around himself, trying to calm down. But nothing could stop this–the waves of grief, crashing into him over and over. It felt like his heart was breaking in two. His mind replayed each of the kisses, like a film reel, and while it had once brought him happiness, sometimes embarrassment, right now, it was a dagger to his already broken heart.

The kisses that were painful, punches between lips, were all he had known for all of middle school and even some of primary school. The kisses that predated those, even–innocent pecks between them, giggly and childish, before Izuku was declared quirkless and their friendship dissolved. And worst of all–the most recent kisses, the soft ones, sometimes even tender and sweet. 

And Izuku felt horrible and evil, because those recent kisses had made him long for it to be real. For the kisses to not just be a ritual, apparently a copied botched goodbye from a decade ago, but to be genuine. For Kacchan to know what he was doing when they kissed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” Izuku whimpered, his breaths coming out stuttered and gasping. He was being annoying, he knew it. Blubbering and weeping after he had just humiliated Kacchan in front of his friends and teachers. 

“I just wanted-I just needed you in my life, K-Kacchan. I needed you and I really liked our ritual, and-and I-” Izuku sucks in another breath, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt, not caring that he was rubbing tears and snot all over his UA uniform. 

“So you lied to me? So I would keep kissing you? You’re a fucking creep, Deku,” Kacchan spat out, voice still scarily calm.

“N-no, please, I didn’t-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that other people didn’t do it, u-until about a year and a half ago,” Izuku tried to take another deep breath and failed. He buried his face in the med bay pillow.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“You-you would’ve never talked to me a-again.”

“Well what the fuck do you think is gonna happen now, huh?”

At those words, the confirmation that everything really was over between them, Izuku stood up and ran. He caught a glimpse of Kacchan’s face, furious (and… sad?) but he couldn’t deal with that right now. All he could do was run, side stepping a startled Recovery Girl and a concerned older student. He ran as fast as he could away from the mess he’d made. Hates me hates me hates me he hates me…

Chapter Text

Watching Deku flee the room wasn’t nearly as bad as the emptiness that he left behind. All he could hear was the obnoxious ticking of the clock and the occasional groan of pain from another room. Katsuki flopped back down on the cot, the rage in his chest still burning hot. 

Worse than rage–humiliation. The fact that shitty hair, all his teachers, and (the thought of this made his fists clench) all of the losers and side characters that Deku probably told, looking down on him in his rare moment of stupidity. The small voice in the back of his head that said Deku wouldn’t do that and you know it was ignored. He was too pissed off right now to even think about caring. 

How dare those fucking losers make fun of him?

Smoke from his hands surrounded him, but he didn’t care if it filled the entire infirmary. How could Deku just lie to him the whole time? (half his brain screamed: How could I be so stupid this whole time?) 

Katsuki had very little experience with embarrassment. Especially from something that he had done. He used to cringe when the extras he hung around with would talk too loudly in public, especially when adults would glare at him, as if he was exactly the same as those dumbass scum. Again, he ignored the thought that maybe he was exactly the same because Katsuki was not one to be lumped into groups of people. He was unique. He was special. He was going to be the best of the best, and fucking Deku of all people took advantage of him!

“If you don’t stop smoking up the room, I’ll bring back Midnight!” Recovery Girl screeched from behind the curtain, just as the student she was helping threw up in a bin. Katsuki scoffed at the pathetic display and quickly left the infirmary, because he wasn’t about to let some extra’s nasty vomit stench invade his nose. 

He didn’t care if he was in trouble for his explosion in front of the teachers. All he could do was try and quell the burning rage eating at him inside. He hadn’t felt this angry in a while, since before the stupid sludge villain incident. 

The biggest insult was that he was hurt. His feelings were hurt. What the fuck? Ew. Katsuki didn’t do feelings. That was weak shit. He certainly was NOT weak shit. But then why was he hurting? Actually hurting, too. There was a ball of ache in his chest and throat, and it kind of itched, in a phantom-throbbing kind of way. Was he about to cry or some shit? 

His eyes stung a little. Oh fuck no–

Quickly, he set off a small explosion in his hand, the familiar feeling calming him down. There were very few things that Katsuki did that could be considered as calming, and this was one of them. He concentrated on changing the size, the shape, even the type of explosion he was making– in a secret part of his mind, he compared it to finger knitting, or a rubik's cube. The repetitive motions helped him relax a bit, and that stupid feelings-ball in his chest smoothed away and he no longer feared pulling a Deku and crying like a baby in public. 

The calm was immediately threatened at the thought of damn Deku. That twerp had been secretly holding this over his head the whole time, hadn’t he? He could’ve dropped this embarrassing bomb at any time and Katsuki would’ve done just what he did today– completely walk himself into his own downfall. Again, the foreign embarrassment crept up. Never in his life had he had this feeling, reliving an experience, seeing the pitying or amused expressions on the faces of his teachers, the bewildered look on Shitty Hair’s, and the horrified, tearful look on Deku’s. Did Deku infect him with his stupid anxiety or something? Because holy hell, the embarrassment kept rising in him and all he wanted to do was go home and pretend that nothing ever happened. That the goodbye kisses never happened. 

Unbidden, the goodbye kisses flashed in his mind, and the embarrassment got worse now that he knew the ugly truth. Kirishima’s voice rang in his head (romantic…only couples do that…) and holy fuck, he was going to kill Deku. Rip him to pieces. The nerd was making fun of him, taking advantage of his singular act of stupidity!

Or worse, the nerd wasn’t making fun of him. Maybe he was just obsessed with him, in a creepy, perv way. The way Deku never told him about the fact that kissing on the lips everyday could be construed as romantic was definitely an indication that he was a weirdo for sure. Yeah, that checks out. In fact, Katsuki thought, mind whirling, I bet the nerd got off on me not knowing what I was doing. Yeah, fucking Deku, tricking me! He even licked my lips today– 

His cheeks warmed again, remembering the nerd’s stupid soft tongue. His stupid sparkling eyes and flushed face, which looked much better than the twisted, constipated look that he’d had right before Katskui had leaned in for the goodbye kiss. You taste like cherries today, Kacchan–

Immediately, Katsuki cut that line of thinking off. Obviously, he was in some sort of emotional turmoil, whatever the fuck that meant, and he didn’t need to be thinking about the nerd’s stupid sparkling eyes or some shit. He passed the window of a convenience store, and he stopped dead in tracks at the lost, flushed expression on his face. Honestly, he didn’t even know his face could look like that. He looked like a dumbass, still twirling small explosions in his hand, his pupils pinpoint, face pale and drawn but still blushing scarlet. He fixed a scowl on his face and felt marginally better, even if he still looked like a moron.

The rest of the walk home was filled with similar, and equally terrible, reminders of all the kisses he and Deku had shared over the years. In middle school, when he’d hated every second around Deku, but the idea of stopping their kissing ritual hadn’t even crossed his mind. As long as he could remember, routines were very serious to him. He was going to be a hero, he needed to keep a strict routine! And that routine just happened to included Deku. After dumbass Deku’s acceptance into UA, he’s stopped their routine, and, while he didn’t let it show, it deeply annoyed him. Of course Deku had to go and fuck up his routine! His days had felt off kilter and lacking. He knew that now that Deku had gone and fucked it up again, his days would go back to that. Never quite right, too quiet with the absence of the nerd muttering besides him. These last few weeks had been different– the softer kisses. Those had made him feel… feel… good. 

Katsuki started to get concerned for his health because this emotional shit was exhausting. His own weird-ass thoughts were embarrassing him now! Instead of just panic and embarrassment, his whole body felt like a whirlwind of every emotion ever invented. He did not run home, because he was not some shitty maiden, but did he pick up the pace a bit? Maybe, fuck off!

The door burst open and he quickly raced for his room. Luckily, he did that every day so his parents wouldn’t be alarmed by that– but it seemed like all the good luck Katsuki usually enjoyed was snatched away, because of fucking course the school had called his parents, so they were waiting for him at the base of the stairs. It was so fucking annoying how they could predict his actions, goddamnit!

“BRAT! Why the hell did I get a call about you behaving sexually irresponsible?!”

Again, the alien shame feeling crept up inside him, and for the first time in his life, he stuttered out some incomprehensible shit. The very fact of him stuttering caused another dose of anger to be mixed in the melting pot that was Katsuki’s emotions right now. His hag of a mom stared at him, unimpressed.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP HAG!”

“DON’T TELL ME TO SHUT UP, BRAT! ARE YOU A SEXUAL DEVIANT NOW, HUH?”
“AM I– FUCK YOU! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” Fucking hell, now he was sweating profusely. From his head, which was getting into his eyes. So yeah, he was not crying. Definitely not. It totally wasn’t true that his eyes were streaming and he felt his nose start to drip in tandem. He wasn’t crying stop crying stop FUCKING crying–

Apparently, the emotional mess that was Katsuki was enough to shock his parents into silence. He had no idea what the fuck was going. Feeling something more than anger was rare for him, and now he was feeling every single emotion at the same time. 

“Why the fuck did you kiss Deku’s mom?” Again, Katsuki stuttered on this sentence, but it was even worse because it was less stuttering and more blubbering like a baby. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Mitsuki, you what–”

“Now all my teachers think I’m a fucking dumbass like Deku!” Katsuki blubbered out, angry explosions popping in his hands. It was hard to look intimidating with tears dripping down his face.

“Katsuki, calm down, they were concerned about you–”

“JUST BECAUSE WE KISS ON THE LIPS?! I DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS WEIRD!”

Again, he had to witness the same judgy, pitying expressions on their faces that were on his teachers faces. They were making fun of him?!

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME KISSING WAS ONLY FOR ROMANTIC SHIT?!” Katsuki had never felt so lowly before, and it was pissing him off because this was beneath him. He wasn’t the type to cry and ponder over a mistake, because he never made mistakes. He was fucking awesome and now it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him. A horrifying thought went through his mind: Kirishima knew. What if he told everyone? What if when he goes to school tomorrow, everyone will laugh at him? At HIM?! Katsuki Bakugou, the next number one hero, the best of the best?!

“Fucking hell, Masaru, the brat’s experiencing emotions for the first time, get him some water.”

“Mitsuki, please try and be a bit more tactful, maybe bring him a blanket–”

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Katsuki screeched, still crying like some dumbass Hallmark character. 

His dad went to the kitchen and his mom wrapped a small blanket around him, ignoring his frankly pathetic hissing and thrashing. While he’d never admit it to anyone ever unless they wanted to be dead instantly, he was having a full blown meltdown. This was something he’d take to his grave. His mom shoved him onto the couch, and struggled weakly, trying to regain some kind of dignity. Katsuki snatched the glass of water from his dad, chugged the entire thing, and then buried himself in the blanket. Fuck this emotions shit! Never again, he vowed. 

“Katsuki, you need to relax. It’s not the end of the world to cry, so stop acting like it,” His mom said, ignoring the tense whispers from Masaru. “So you got embarrassed? So you were dumb for once? Shit happens. Wipe your tears,” she pulled back the blanket to expose his wet, snarling expression, “ugh–blow your nose, and take a breath.” She handed him a tissue, gave him some privacy while he loudly snotted in it, then let Masaru throw it away. 

After calming down a little, he grumpily got up, letting the blanket fall back on the couch. Masaru buzzed nervously, like he wanted to hug him or something equally as disgusting, but Mitsuki was staring at him expectedly. 

“Well? Are you calmed down now?”

He grumbled something resembling yes, still embarrassed to high hell but luckily not crying anymore. Hopefully, that was the last time he cried, because he felt exhausted and weirdly sore. Despite what the hag said, crying certainly felt like the end of the world.

“Just say yes or no to the following questions, alright brat? Did you want to kiss Izuku in a romantic or sexual way?”

Katsuki opened his mouth, ready to scream at that nasty question–

“YES OR NO BRAT, I DON’T NEED A FUCKING DISERTATION!”

Scowling, he furiously shook his head no.

“Okay, but from what I gathered, you kissed him. Why?”

“I thought you said–”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID, JUST ANSWER ME BRAT!”

“Fine, you hag! ‘Cause we always kiss. It’s our damn routine! Don’t ask me any more questions, fuck!” Just thinking about it made the awful feeling start swirling in him again.

“Okay, think to yourself then, and figure this shit out! Why him? I thought you weren’t friends anymore?”

“We’re fucking not, damn Deku! Making fun of me this whole damn time–”

“Shut up and listen! Ask yourself why him, why not any of your other friends?”

“Those extras were NOT my friends–”

“SHUT UP! Why Izuku, of all people?”

Katsuki didn’t respond. He couldn’t, to be honest. He didn’t know what the answer was. All he wanted was for this day to never have happened, for all his teachers to not have the image of dumb-Katsuki in their minds, and for Deku to have never fucking existed, so he never would’ve started that shit.

Except that wasn’t true, was it?

Katsuki had started it. He’d seen his mom and Auntie Inko kiss, and the idea seemed amazing to him. But why? Why was he so desperate to kiss Izuku? Why couldn’t he stop?

Because I liked it. Because I needed it– fuck that, I STILL need it. The last few weeks of kisses, he’d changed it up. He’d made it more than their usual pecks, he’d lingered. At the time, he hadn’t thought about it twice– he was assured with his actions in everything he did. But now, he- he, Katsuki– was second guessing himself, questioning his actions. He hated it, it felt like shit. No wonder other people were so annoying if they did this all the time.

Wordlessly, he brushed past his parents and raced the stairs to his room. He needed to self-reflect in peace. 

“You're welcome, you emotionally-stunted brat!”

“Mitzuki, please–”

He slammed his door so he didn’t have to hear any of his parents' conversation. He needed to think without hearing either of their annoying-ass voices.

Katsuki could admit that he liked the kisses. But admitting that he liked the kisses because they were with Deku was something he couldn’t accept. That just wasn’t fucking true. So, what? Maybe he was just a horny teenager. Maybe he just liked kissing and it didn’t matter who else it was with. Of course, Katsuki wasn’t about to go and kiss some random person on the street, but he’d known Deku for a while and when they started they were still friends. That was normal, right? People kissing their childhood friends. Yeah. He was normal. Totally normal.

Putting the pieces together in his mind went as follows:

1. Katsuki liked the routine with Deku

2. When it started they were best friends and both babies

3. The last few weeks, maybe even longer, he’d liked the kisses on a different level because as fucking gross as it was to admit, Katsuki was a teenager and a human being, and unfortunately, lots of humans liked kisses

4. The fact that it was Deku he was kissing didn’t matter at all on any level and he would die on that hill, fuck you very much.

Thinking about it rationally helped. It didn’t cause the nasty emotional swirl to start back up again. While Katsuki didn’t usually need a plan of attack, because he was naturally amazing and would win no matter what he did, this was different. He begrudgingly admitted that he was out of his element when it came to icky feelings, so he needed to plan this shit out and destroy it, so he never had to deal with it again.

First step: kill Kirishima. 

Well, metaphorically kill him. Shitty hair can never tell anyone else about this or Katsuki would murder him dead a thousand times over. He whipped out his phone and sent an extremely detailed, violent threat that would leave most people pissing in their pants, hit send, then felt a bit better about the whole ordeal. 

Step two: kill Deku– wait, fuck, he can’t kill him yet, he’s got other things to plan. Okay, new Step two: kiss Deku again– NO. FUCK THAT GUY.

New new Step two: try and kiss other people. He’d need to find someone he knew, someone that wouldn’t make fun of him or tell others… Shitty hair! He’d already been threatened with death, so he knew the dangers of crossing Katsuki. He grabbed his phone again, sending another text that was half threat/half demand to kiss him, then slammed the phone down again. 

Satisfied, he laid back on the bed, going over the steps he’d made already. He wasn’t sure if he needed any more. Well, maybe one more, just to make sure he was really conquering this emotion shit.

Step three: if (and thats a big fat fucking IF) for some reason things don’t go as planned (very unlikely of course), stop talking to all classmates and get number one hero as fast as possible, preferably while still in school. That wasn’t allowed but he was convinced they could make an exception for him. 

He still felt off-balance and a bit scattered from earlier, but the planning was helping. He’d started the small explosions in his hand again, threading them around each other. The thought of still having these awful feelings tomorrow during class was not acceptable, so he’d squash them all tonight, walk confidently through the doors and blast those bitches away like he did everyday. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t care about any of the shit was eating him up right now. He’d be fine. Tomorrow. 

Katsuki was not fine, and he was pissed about it.

Kirishima kept giving him half-scared, half-confused as hell looks, and Deku was sniffling every three seconds, very obviously crying fat tears with his stupid sparkling eyes. The teachers, thankfully, didn’t treat him differently, but he could tell that they looked at him strangely. The looks on their faces made him want to explode their stupid heads off, but he settled with grinding his teeth and burning his fingerprints on the desk. 

The second school let out, he snatched Shitty hair by the collar and dragged him to the training room. From behind him, he heard Deku start to sob, his friends shooting him harsh glances. As he stomped away, he almost had a Bad Emotion– he’d forgotten that he kissed Deku in front of his dumb friends. He had thought he was just making them wait longer to do their nerd shit, which he thought was funny as hell, but now he realized what a colossal fuck up that had been on his part. He crushed that Bad Emotion, pushed it to the back of his mind where the other Bad Feelings were from last night, because he was never going to deal with that shit again so he’d be better off forgetting about it.

“Bakubro, I need to breathe–”

“No you don’t, shut the hell up.”

Once they made it to the training gym– a smaller one on the far side of campus, usually empty– he flung the spiky haired idiot on the floor.

“Okay, I’m confused. Are we fighting or kissing?” The question made Katsuki squirm uncomfortably before he kicked Shitty hair in the face, the other boy’s hardening only coming out in the nick of time to save him from a bloody nose. 

“Shut up! I’m gonna kiss you– ONCE– just to test something out, and then we’re never gonna talk about it again, OR ELSE!” 

Kirishima put his hands up, surrender position. 

“Okay! Okay, just– let me ask one question, please. Then we can kiss,” he blushed at that, “and I’ll forget the whole thing ever happened.”

Annoyed, but secretly grateful that he was being so chill about this, Katsuki nodded. “One question. And if it’s stupid, I’m not gonna answer it.”

“Is all of this because you have a crush on Midoriya?”

Immediately, explosions filled the room as Katsuki roared in rage. HIM? Have a crush?! And on fucking Deku? Hell no!

“FUCK OFF!” He screamed, ignoring the Bad Feelings threatening to come out. “I’m not some stupid fucker with a crush!”

Kirishima nodded nervously, agreeing to keep the peace. Still furious, Katsuki punched him on the shoulder. After steaming for a few minutes around the gym, muttering and raving, he calmed down enough to plop down on the gymnastic mat in front of Shitty hair.

“No more dumbass questions, Shitty hair. Fuck you. Are we doing this or not?”

He nodded, looking as nervous as Katsuki secretly felt. Awkwardly, he leaned in, puckering his dumb lips. I can do this. I’m a horny teen, right? Katsuki leaned in too, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Shitty hair’s face. 

Their lips touched and immediately, he knew it was wrong. Kirishima’s lips were the wrong shape, they were a bit too dry, and when Katsuki started moving a little, opening his lips, Shitty hair’s stupid shark teeth were too jarring. Still, he kept kissing him, ignoring the awkward stiffness of both their bodies, and pulled away really quick, growling out, “Use tongue, idiot.”

Again, he went in, this time with a bit of tongue. They were both inexperienced, and it showed, with unsure lip movement and the fact that their noses kept bumping into each other’s. Their tongues were hesitant, neither of them wanting to be the dumbass that shoved their tongue down someone else’s throat.

Katsuki was pissed off– the kiss was fine, sure, even though he knew almost nothing about kissing. But it didn’t feel good, the way he and Deku’s kisses felt. And, let’s face it, him and Kirishima were basically making out, which was supposed to feel fucking awesome. And all he could think about was the small kisses he and Deku had shared. 

Kirishima started leaning in a bit more, but Katsuki couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved him away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Goddmanit! He punched the floor, angry at himself for his confusing feelings.

Blinking, Kirishima collected himself, his face flushed and his breathing a bit fast. He also wiped his mouth, looking strangely shy. 

“That was my first kiss, ya’know. Not bad, actually,” he muttered. 

“Don’t make this weird, shit face!”

“Hey man, I’m trying to help you, but this is weird for me, too. I got threatened and propositioned over text within the span of thirty minutes last night! This is confusing!” Kirishima said, his voice rising to a bit of a squeak. He was still recovering from the kiss it seemed, as he was still sporting an intense blush.

Taking a breath, Katsuki had to admit that his friend was right. Even he knew that what he was doing was erratic and strange, and he’d asked Shitty hair to do something that not many people would be as cool with. 

“Okay. I won’t yell at you anymore. Unless you say something incredibly stupid.”

It wasn’t an apology but it was as close as he’d get to one. He gave Kirishima a few more minutes to collect himself, then he stood up and offered a hand to the other boy. 

“Wanna train now?”

“Did it, uh, help you figure anything out?”

“Not talking about it.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s train!”

As the months passed, Katsuki still wasn’t close to dealing with his emotions. He’d buried them in the back of his mind and staunchly denied that the kissing ever happened. Deku moped around, but they didn’t talk about the kisses again. He was right about his days feeling off, but it was worse than before. It was even fucking with his sleep schedule! Stupid Deku shouldn’t have that kind of influence over him, but he did. It pissed him off endlessly– he’d come to school groggy and all he wanted to do was slam the little shitbag into a locker or something, but he couldn’t. He was learning a lot at UA, and he didn’t want that Deku asshole to make him lose his place at this school. The only thing that could’ve made this situation worse was– 

“Bakugou. You’ll be working with Midoriya on the final.”

Time froze. Aizawa’s unforgiving (and uncomfortably knowing) glare bore into him as he struggled to find words to illustrate just how much he didn’t want to fucking do that. 

But before he knew, he was being shoved into the bus to shuttle him to the battle arena. He ignored any and all attempts from Deku to chit chat– he wasn’t about to hear anything from fucking Deku of all people. He was about to take down All Might and this clingy fuck kept trying to talk to him, kept trying to prove that he was better. He hit the dumbass in the mouth, and yet he still kept talking.

Deku was yelling at him, trying to get to stop and come up with a plan like the lame-ass he was. While Deku was busy fiddling with his hands and deliberating over a plan that was likely to fail anyway, Katsuki would get shit done. All Might attacked, giving some corny villain monologue, but all Katsuki cared about was destroying him and getting away from Deku as soon as damn possible.

The fight was barely a fight, more of a beat down. Katsuki had had his fair share of getting humbled this past year, what with the sludge villain, the sports festival fiasco, and worst of all, getting exposed by Deku (he ignored the history that he had in fact exposed himself). He was fed the fuck up with things not going his way. Getting hit repeated by All Might, weakened as he was with the power-dampening cuffs, was still fucking awful. Deku and his self-righteous ass, always trying to one up him, always finding some way to fuck over Katsuki– he was panting, aching from all the hits he’d taken, and yet he was still so disgusted with Deku that he couldn’t think straight– 

“If I have to get help from that scum, then I’d rather lose–”

The punch caught him by surprise. He flew a few feet, actually stunned. That little shit managed to daze him! He felt himself get grabbed, the wind streaming by as Deku found an ally to hide in. Catching his breath was hard with the nerd rambling, and his anger was raging inside him more and more with every word he said.

“You can’t say that! You’ve never been okay with losing, Kacchan. Ever since we were kids–”

Images flashed in Katsuki’s mind of exactly what they were doing as kids– shared kisses in the park, giggling and happy…

He flew at Deku, slamming the wall next to him and cracking the concrete. 

“K-Kacchan…” Deku stuttered out, his stupid eyes sparkling like crazy.

A thousand thoughts slammed through his mind, and the horrible Emotions started rising in his chest, which was the only explanation for what he did next.

Leaning in, he captured Deku’s lips with his own. 

Instantly, it felt right. Like when he makes an explosion, bursting forth and out and warm, so fucking warm. Deku gasped, his lips just everything that Katsuki had been missing–

He pulled away. His head was full of TV static and Deku’s genuinely dumbstruck face filled his vision. 

“D’wha- hau– Kacchan–”

“Against that crazy speed, no matter how you run and hide, you won’t be able to avoid fighting.”

Deku, still blinking like he’d been concussed, raised a finger to his lips like he hadn’t even heard Katsuki. A moment passed and Katsuki almost got pissed, but Deku responded, some weak protest that Katsuki didn’t bother to hear. He was looking at Katsuki with strange, contemplative eyes, and Katsuki didn’t like that shit.

“Kacchan–”

“Shut up, bastard! I’ll kill you!”

Hastily, he took off one of his grenadier launchers, shoving it onto Deku’s arm. He had to tighten the straps a little because of the nerd’s dumb noodle arms (he ignored a weird fluttering in his gut at the sight of Deku in a part of his hero costume. Probably just hatred). Deku listened as he spit out a quick plan, his face fixing itself as he focused more on the exam they were taking.

The plan was hasty, but it worked, for a second. They managed to get slightly closer to the escape gate, but they were quickly caught up with. All Might slammed him around, breaking multiple bones in the process. He was the number one hero for a reason, but jesus fucking christ Katsuki’s ribs hurt.

He saw an opening, and he grabbed Deku by that stupid guard around his neck and threw him as far as he could– his wrist breaking in the process. Heavy fucker!

Only a few seconds later and Deku was getting a beat down by All Might, and fuck a broken wrist, they were going to win!!! Jumping up, he raised his hands, the pain actually helping the sweat build up on his palms, releasing the same big explosion he did at the sports festival. 

“Go, Deku! Hurry! Make yourself useful you damn scum!”

He followed that with a few more blasts, trying to keep All Might occupied long enough for Deku to cross the finish line. But he wasn’t enough– a hand wrapped around his face, and he was so fucking done with losing, but All Might slammed him onto the ground. While his body was mostly just a big ball of pain, he had a one track mind: winning.

“Hurry up…go…fucking nerd!” He wheezed. All Might stared at him, contemplating. 

“I break… and break myself… I can’t accept losing like this!” Blood filled his mouth as he bit into All Might’s hand, feebly trying to win, even now. He faded into unconsciousness, hearing Deku screaming his name. 

His dreams were full of Deku. Mostly him as a brat– them running through the forest, climbing trees, playing with hero figurines and playing pretend, heroes and villains. They must’ve been 4 or 5 years old in this memory, and while in reality there were other kids there, Katsuki’s memory had blurred the faces of those irrelevant kids. In his mind, there was only Deku and him, like it's always been.

Izuku was standing on top of the playground, his big eyes full of awe. The colorful platform was only reachable by a twisted yellow ladder, so it was the perfect obstacle course for a hero in training. Katsuki had just gotten his quirk, and neither of them knew about Izuku’s quirklessness yet, so both of them had already drawn up their hero costumes for the future. Some random kid was the villain, probably not even doing it right. But Izuku always played right. He said the right things and let his Kacchan save him, again and again. He looked up the ladder and saw Izuku cheering, genuinely happy that Katsuki was winning, even though he always won. The other kids often grumbled and got annoyed, but it wasn’t Katsuki’s fault they sucked and he was better. Only Izuku seemed to really understand that Katsuki was the best. How could he call himself the best if he lost?

“Save me, King Explosion Murder!” Izuku squealed, excited. The villain kid threw a stick at him, striking the green-haired boy in the face. 

“DIE VILLAIN!” Katsuki yelled, small explosions singeing the hair off the kids eyebrows. The dumb kid started crying, running to his mom, but Katsuki didn’t give a fuck. Izuku had a small cut on his chin from the stick– his eyes wide and already filled with tears. 

“Oi, Izuku! I’ll save you!” Katsuki’s chubby fingers latched on to the bottom rung, ascending quickly. Once he reached the platform, he snatched Izuku’s hand away from the cut, inspecting closely. 

“You’re fine, dummy! I defeated the villain.” With clumsy fingers, he wiped away the blood. “I’m a hero! I saved you.”

Sniffling, Izuku smiled again. He reached up and wrapped his own chubby fingers around his. “You’re my hero, Kacchan!”

Katsuki looked over at the bench on the far side of the playground where both of their mothers were hanging out. He saw his mom start to back up her purse, then lean down and put her lips against Auntie Inko’s. 

Curious, he looked over at Izuku, who hadn’t seen what just happened. The boy was still holding his hand, staring at the sunset and smiling happily. 

“Come here.”

Izuku turned his head, scooting closer without hesitation. Katsuki leaned in, copying what his mom did. It was quick, but it was nice. A goodbye, but in a “see you later” way. He liked it.

Izuku blinked, but didn’t seem weirded out or unsure. A smile grew on his face, and he seemed almost more happy now than he was before. 

“Bye, Izuku! Be here tomorrow or else!”

The memories changed, years going by in a blink, but one thing stayed consistent: Deku. Deku’s face changing, his limbs getting longer and the happy look that used to stay on his face slowly fading as years of bullying and hatred wore him down. Their kisses grew, too, in a way. Every day, no matter how long he had to wait around, Deku would walk silently behind Katsuki. He’d wait for the fork in the road, and then he’d let Katsuki yank him in for a peck. Sometimes Katsuki would push him to the ground afterwards. Sometimes he’d burn him. But always after the kiss. 

Then, nothing. Horrible nothing. Another shift: kissing again, but soft. He was loath to admit it, but they were sweet, borderline gentle. Those memories weren’t as prevalent, but they stood out the most. These were the memories that haunted him frequently, which annoyed him a fuckton. He’d wake up with his name almost on his lips because he couldn’t escape the dreams. 

He couldn’t deny it anymore: he needed the kisses back. He needed Deku. But admitting that to him, talking about it now that they both knew what the kisses meant, was nigh impossible. But Katsuki was a man of action– and despite his moments of awful, debilitating Emotions, he was confident in himself and his decisions. He was going to be a hero. He needed Deku’s kisses to become one. There wasn’t a third option here, and he wasn’t the type to slither out of the things he needed to do. 

He came to consciousness, determined. No more wallowing in his shit emotions. It was time for action. 

Chapter Text

It was hard to find the time to talk to Deku alone. He was busy preparing for the summer trip, and the dumb friends he kept around pestered him to hang out more often than not. Kirishima, the nosy fuck, seemed to know something was up, because he kept pestering him and staring at him with a pretend-chill look on his face.

Shitty hair could die in his curiosity for all he cared. Katsuki had learned his damn lesson– no more letting people in when it came to his and Deku’s kisses. That had ended terribly last time. This time, not one soul on earth would know. Only him and Deku.

Finally, about a week before the summer camp started, he decided he’d just fucking do it. He was going to text him. Laying in bed, with his phone in his hand, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Can we kiss again felt weird as fuck, and kiss me again or else wasn’t good either, although a bit more promising. Threats were always more natural to him than asking shit politely.

Ignoring the slight fluttering in his chest, he sent ‘ call me’ before he could think too much about it. He couldn’t ever experience those awful emotions again, so he needed to be as chill as possible about this. No pondering, thinking too deeply, or considering his disgusting feelings. That shit was weird. This was much simpler: he was going to kiss his childhood best friend-turned enemy- turned rival. Maybe make out sometimes, even though the thought of making out made his face burn. Nothing more, and hopefully nothing less. Just rivals who made out sometimes. 

The call came through embarrassingly quickly. Fucker was probably waiting by the phone. He considered letting the nerd suffer a bit by not answering, which he definitely deserved, but Katsuki decided that he needed this conversation to go smoothly for his own sake. He hit the answer button.

“Kacchan?” Deku’s breathless voice came through. Katsuki had to stop from nervously snickering at how scared the other sounded, mostly because he knew the laugh would sound weird and he couldn’t give Deku any indication he wasn’t extremely Cool and Chill about this. He took a breath, making sure his voice sounded the way he wanted it to.

“Come over to my house. Now.” Satisfied at his casual tone, Katsuki sat up on the bed, nerves fading a little.

“A-Are you okay?”

“Yes, bastard, just come over!” He hung up before the nerd could stutter over any other sentences. Smirking, the blond fell back on the bed, self-satisfied and expectant. 

His smirk fell off after 30 minutes passed and the nerd still hadn’t shown up. 

The walk from Deku’s apartment to Katsuki’s house wasn’t that fucking long. If you were a foot-dragging, slow-ass person maybe, but Deku wasn’t either of those things. He had a nervous habit of speeding up when he mumbled, which was all the fucking time, so the little fuck was basically speed-walking wherever he went. He should’ve made it in 15. Unless…

Enraged, Katsuki jumped out of bed and snatched his shoes up. He wasn’t coming! Katsuki had practically begged for Deku to come over, and now the jerk was blowing him off?! Ignoring his pleas?! 

Katsuki stomped to the door, because fuck that, if Deku thinks he can just ignore him, he’s got another thing coming, fucking asshole–

He swung open the door, nearly hitting said asshole in the face. 

“Ahh, sorry I was late Kacchan! I was at the training gym with All Might!”

Katsuki leaned back, eyes wide. Deku was wearing his gym uniform, still covered in sweat. He was panting heavily, obviously having just ran from the train station to Katsuki’s house. The nerd wrung his hands in his shirt, eyes darting back and forth from the floor to Katsuki’s scowl.

His rage melted away, replaced with something else. Something dangerous. Because this nerd had skipped out on a training session with All Might and ran all the way to his house? Was he really that eager? His brain hadn’t even finished forming that thought before answering it with a resounding, obvious yes. Katsuki had to stomp down the strange floaty feeling– I AM COOL, CALM, COLLECTED, he screamed internally for a second, fighting back the Emotions. Clearing his throat, he stepped aside, nodding his head towards his bedroom.

Deku entered, his awkwardness visible in his fiddling fingers and under the breath mutterings. That was easy to ignore for Katsuki, since he’d been dealing with that shit his whole life. It was difficult to resist the urge to push him up the stairs, since he was walking like he was being led to the damn gallows, but Katsuki held strong as they entered his bedroom. He locked the door behind them, ignoring how Deku gulped at the action. Cool and Calm, Katsuki. Cool and calm.

“We need to talk.”

“Y-Yes, we do, Kacchan,” Deku gulped, “I know that I need to, uh, apologize. I took advantage o-of your ignorance–”

“Shut up, nerd. I want to do it again.”

Deku blinked, uncomprehending like the dumbass he was. 

“Do what?”

“Kiss. I want to kiss you again.”

Deku stood in the corner of his room, blinking like an idiot, mouthing opening and closing like he forgot how to form words. He frowned, pointing between them like he didn’t understand what Katsuki had just said. The nervous feeling was rising in Katsuki, and he needed to do something because Deku’s ignorance was starting to piss him off, for god’s sake. 

Katsuki strode forwards, stopping in front of the shorter teen. The boy had started to get it– if the fierce blush rising in his face was any indication. Slowly, as if trying not to disturb a frightened animal, Katsuki raised a forcibly steady hand to Deku’s chin. The damn fluttering was back in his chest, no matter how much he tried to quell it. Getting in close to Deku was like pouring gasoline on a barely controlled bonfire. The sheen of sweat, his sparkling eyes, the bulge of those new muscles of his. The flick of tongue poking out of his mouth nearly made Katsuki lose it right then and there. He’d called Deku because he wanted to talk, but having him in his bedroom, looking like that…

“Yes or no, nerd?” He growled, honestly a bit startled at how odd and needy his voice sounded. He needed to hash out his demands for their arrangement, maybe lay some ground rules…

Deku didn’t respond verbally– he leaned in and closed the gap between them, which should have shocked him, but he didn’t give a fuck– all was right in the world because Deku was here, right where he was meant to be. 

And holy fuck was it right. His hands unwittingly gripped the back of Deku’s head, tilting his face towards Katsuki’s more. Deku’s softness, his fervor– everything about him – was nearly overwhelming.  Katsuki opened his eyes for just a second, just to see the blushing, eager expression on the other’s face, before closing them again. Fuck, I’m in trouble. 

Deku gripped his shoulders, his delicious tongue sliding against Katsuki’s like they were born to do this. Everything was happening so fast and too damn slow at the same time. He leaned in more, their bodies now flush against each other, and Katsuki gasped openly at the contact. One thought drummed in his head, getting louder and louder with each nip at Deku’s lips and swipe of tongue against warm tongue: more more more more more.

He wrapped his arm around Deku’s waist, grinning at how much he seemed to like it based on the noises that followed. Spinning them around, he lowered them on the bed, one arm around Deku and the other by his head, keeping him above Deku. This position– Deku’s face– 

He broke the kiss, honestly a bit alarmed at how intense everything was. It felt like possession or some shit, and all he wanted was more . Staring at Deku’s blushing face, he looked equally as surprised. 

Fuck surprise, I want to do that again–

They both went back in at the same time, their lips locking; Deku arched his back, trying to get closer, and again, the contact felt like lightning going from Katsuki’s fingers to his toes. His whole body felt like it was on fire, but if fire was the best fucking thing on the planet. Honestly, he was so overwhelmed that all he could think was, again, more more more more.

Deku backed away, panting, then reached down and took off his fucking shirt?!!

His arms were covered in scars, which were usually visible even when he had a shirt on, but without one it felt like they stood out even more than normal. He had a fucking six pack, which wasn’t surprising since nearly everyone in class 1A had a six pack, but Katsuki didn’t want to fucking grope the abs of his other classmates. 

He wasn’t about to be shown up by damn Deku of all people, so he stripped his shirt off, too, secretly loving how Deku’s eyes greedily examined his chest. Even though he had no idea how the hell everything had spiraled out of control so quickly, he was still trying to maintain a sense of calm. 

“Like what you see, Deku–” He was cut off by Deku’s lips again, and while normally he’d be pissed at being interrupted, it didn’t even matter now because if he thought the closeness from earlier was intense, nothing compared to skin on skin . A curse escaped his lips and he couldn’t even begin to care about how not-chill that made him seem, because now he could feel the smooth skin and the bit of sweat on the other teen’s chest and— fuuuuuuck what the fuck is that– 

Deku had wrapped his legs around Katsuki. Deku. Wrapped. His– oh my fucking god–  Katsuki, with Deku’s legs wrapped around him like a damn koala, picked him up. Even though the other was heavy, Katsuki could handle it. He was Katsuki fucking Bakugou and Deku felt fucking good–

He slammed him into the wall, their kisses turning a bit more animalistic. Deku fucking bit his lip hard at one point– and he fucking liked it. Deku had both his hands on Katsuki’s face, as if he could hold him there and keep making out until both of them died. Mine, mine, all mine– 

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door.

“Brat! Quick stomping around, it's time for dinner!”

They froze. Katsuki’s mom stomped away, but her hag voice had definitely brought them back to reality a little bit. Katsuki blinked, trying to ground himself after whatever the fuck just transpired. They were chest to chest, Deku’s legs wrapped around him still, both of them breathing heavy. 

He let Deku stand on his own feet, trying not to grin too hard when the nerd’s legs almost buckled underneath him. He was still beat red, with his lips swollen and shiny with spit. Hand prints stood out on his waist. A flash of that cringey possessiveness came back, although now Katsuki was able to shove it to the back of his mind. He tried to reign in his weird emotions, getting back to that calm, cool, collected mindset. Just rivals, nothing more. 

Deku, on the other hand, looked anything other than calm, cool, and collected. He looked close to passing out. Katsuki bent down, grabbing both their shirts up from the floor, giving Deku a moment to collect himself. The teens put their shirts on in embarrassed silence. The nerd cleared his throat, his face still half shocked, half embarrassed. 

“So, Kacchan… are we going back to the, um, goodbye kisses?”

The reality of the situation finally slammed back into Katsuki, and his brain finally went from crazed horny animal to rational human person . While he missed the fuck out of those goodbye kisses, the thought of the utter humiliation he had faced was enough to remember the ground rules talk he was planning to have with Deku.

“On one condition, nerd. Don’t tell anyone. No one can know about this, and I fucking mean it. You go gossiping to your shitty friends and I’ll kill you,” he searched for another rule, because only having one seemed lacking. “And this is purely for the kisses, loser. We’re not friends or anything.”

Deku was nodding so hard it looked painful. That damn sparkle was back in his eyes, and Katsuki didn’t even bother ignoring how much he liked it. He grabbed Deku’s chin, brought him in and gave him a short peck, similar to how they used to kiss. 

“Bye, nerd. Be here tomorrow at six.”

If this were a cartoon, Deku probably would’ve started floating with how happy he looked. He nodded dreamily, wiped his face again, and started towards the door. 

“Hey, fuck no, go out the window.”

“Aww, but I don’t wanna–”

“OUT THE WINDOW, BASTARD!”

He helped Deku lower himself out of the window onto the roof, cursing at him to not fuck with the roof tiles. Before he could slam the window closed, Deku dipped back in and kissed him again , the damn addict, before hopping down to the street with the help of his quirk.

Katsuki pretended like he wasn’t smiling as he closed the window, just like he pretended he wasn’t watching the nerd practically skip away.

Every day.

They hung out every. fucking. day. 

Summer camp was two days away. Deku had snuck into his house for the last five days and all they’d do was make out. Seriously, Katsuki was worried about his hydration levels, because it could not be healthy to swap this much damn spit. He wasn’t sure how ‘goodbye kisses’ had morphed into, well, whatever the fuck they were doing now, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Most people would probably be a bit tired by now of kissing so much, but Katsuki was insatiable. It was like the months without Deku’s kisses had driven him fucking insane or something. All he wanted to do was be with the nerd. He’d wake up from a dream that was filled with kissing him, he’d eat breakfast, go on a run, eat lunch, lift weights or go on another run, all the while just waiting for nighttime when Deku could come over. He felt like a fucking dog waiting for it’s owner to come home the way he’d jump up the second he heard the nerd at his window. They’d kiss a bunch, and then Deku would want to sit on the floor or the bed and talk. Normally, Katsuki fucking hated talking, and especially with the nerd. But Deku’s obviously cast a fucking spell on him or some shit, because they’d make out for like an hour and they’d both be all blushy and relaxed, and that’s when the nerd would strike: when Katsuki was at his most vulnerable. Honestly, he was impressed with the diabolical nature of the plan. I’ll kiss him until he’s dumb, then I’ll talk his ear off and he won’t even care! Muwhahaha!

Katsuki couldn’t even be mad about it. His sleep schedule had finally been fixed, he had Deku’s kisses back, which of course no one fucking knew about or would ever know about, and they had summer camp coming up– life couldn’t be going any fucking better. 

He was waiting for Deku to knock on the window like usual, but the fucker was late. Frowning, he checked his phone again, slightly pissed to see a missed call from the green-haired dumbass. His phone buzzed, Deku’s text coming in: meet me at Takoba beach! <3 

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but begrudgingly started putting on his swim trunks, leaving his phone on the bed. From Deku’s blabbing, he knew that Takoba beach was still empty, even though Deku had cleaned it a while ago. It was hard to get rid of a ‘trash beach’ reputation, but that fucking worked for him: no one would be there, so no one would see him with Deku. He scrunched his nose at the nasty <3 in the text. Their relationship was purely kissing . Nothing else, for fucks sake. Was he slightly rushing out the door in order to meet up with Deku on an abandoned beach at 8pm? Yes. That definitely lined up with his ground rules, though. So. Uh. Just kissing, not friends or anything else, damnit!

The sun had just started to dip under the horizon when he arrived, giving the beach a nice purple, orangey haze. Deku was already in the water, swimming laps in the shallow end. The second he caught a glimpse of Katsuki, he started splashing his way out, stumbling over like a drunk baby. Katsuki tried to stifle his grin at the goofy idiot but frankly it was impossible, especially once he reached the sand and immediately face planted. Cackling, he kicked more sand at the nerd, ignoring his weak complaints. 

“Kacchan! You came!” Deku exclaimed, looking like an excited geek about to piss himself or something. Sparkling eyes and all. Katsuki glanced around, seeing that the area was actually pretty damn deserted for a beach in the summertime, then lightly punched Deku on the shoulder. 

“Of course I came, nerd. Who else is gonna beat your ass at swimming?” With that, he shoved Deku back onto the sand and dove in the tepid water. 

“Wha– hey!”

The water was nice, but it was much nicer destroying Deku in swimming laps. Deku had improved physically by a fuckton, but Katsuki had been honing his body his whole life. He left him in the dust easily. At some point, they grew bored of racing and started coming up with random water games to play. The ease in which Katsuki allowed himself to just relax and play would be alarming if he wasn’t having so much damn fun, so he didn’t think about it too hard. He was too busy winning. 

It was completely dark by the time Deku tapped out of their underwater wrestling game. It mostly involved Katsuki holding him underwater until he managed to switch their positions, and then he’d hold Katsuki underwater for way less time, mind you. Katsuki was just fucking better, what could he say.

“Okay, okay,” Deku said, laughing. He was still coughing water out of his windpipe, but the smile on his face was like a 500 watt bulb. 

They were face to face, panting from the wrestling. Deku’s hair was plastered to his forehead, the smile wrinkling his eyes. In the moonlight, his skin seemed to glow, the freckles acting like miniature stars. He looked fucking beautiful.

Katsuki leaned in slowly, kissing him with barely-there contact. Even with that small touch, he still felt like he’d been fucking electrocuted. A damn shiver ran through his body, and their lips hadn’t even moved yet. The yearning took him over before he could examine his thoughts more closely. Just kissing, nothing more… 

Deku tilted his head forward, then his hand found Katsuki’s. He squeezed it twice, then flicked out his tongue. Again, in the back of Katsuki’s mind, he knew that he shouldn’t be allowing this shit. Like, holding hands ? He should find that lame as hell. But then Deku was nipping at his lip and trailing his fingers over Katsuki’s palms and all rational thought left him. The kissing was fucking amazing, as it usually was, but the hand holding was making Katsuki internally freak out. He hated touching people– in general of course, but especially with his hands. The skin was sensitive as fuck, and he’d normally get enraged by anyone trying to grab his hand or something. But, as always, Deku was special. Sensitive skin with him just added to the general good-as-fuck feelings, which always just made him long for more. 

And suddenly a dangerous thought popped into his head: more? I could have more. I could make sure he everyone knew he was mine–

What the fuck? 

He shut down that line of thinking. That wasn’t what he wanted.

Right?

Deku pulled away, eyebrows furrowed, anxiety in his eyes. 

“Are you okay, Kacchan?”

Was he? Honestly he didn’t know. He wasn’t ever going to deal with that feelings bullshit again. It was way too awkward and uncomfortable, and quite frankly, stupid as shit. But shoving feelings into the back of his mind was getting difficult with how often they’d reappear, especially when he was doing his favorite thing: kissing Deku.

“I’m fucking peachy.”

Deku just stared at him, nervous. He looked down at their hands, still locked, then cleared his throat.

“Can we, uh, do something tomorrow?” Deku was biting his lip, which was distracting, but Katsuki was suspicious of whatever plan the nerd was cooking up. There he went again, wooing him with his kiss-powers, just to butter him up for some lame shit later. But Katsuki apparently had one weakness, and he was just fine being played like a fiddle right now.

“Do what?”

“There’s a re-release of All Might: First Battle at 10 pm tomorrow and I checked the theater and there’s no way anyone will see us there it’s super out of the way and so far no one else has bought tickets so we won’t be seen, plus we can arrive and leave separately and–”

“Fucking breath, loser,” Katsuki said, thinking. This fucker definitely knew how to win him over– First Battle was the best All Might movie, full stop. Arriving and leaving separately, no one else in the theater…

“Fine, god dammit. We can go to the fucking movies. But if there’s anyone else there, your ass is sitting on the opposite side of the theater!”

Deku squealed, letting go of Katsuki’s hand to wrap his arms around the blond’s shoulders. Katsuki shoved him off after a few seconds, making sure to push him under water for that lame ass display of affection. A part of Katsuki was screaming bad idea, terrible fucking idea , but nothing could go wrong if Katsuki just followed the plan. He glanced at the sky, the only lights were from the sparse streetlights. Deku came up from under the water, still smiling.

“What time is it, nerd?”

Deku’s eyes widened in panic, and he splashed away to get his phone from their pile of towels and clothes on the shore. Katsuki took a deep breath, shook water from his hand, and started the small explosions. He twirled them in between his fingers as the nerd scrambled for his phone.

“Oh my god, Kacchan, it’s past midnight!” Deku yelped out, frantically pulling on his shirt and sliding on his shoes. Katsuki lazily waded back to shore, not really concerned. The nerd was probably worried he’d get grounded or something lame like that. The small explosions in his hand stopped when he caught up with the other boy, who was bouncing from foot to foot like he was about to start sprinting off into the night.

“Gotta go, see ya!” Deku leaned forward and pecked his lips, then actually did sprint off. 

Katsuki watched him go, still tasting the salty water from Deku’s lips. 

Walking home was weird. He didn’t know what to think. He knew something was wrong with him, because why the fuck was he having all these weird thoughts about Deku? They still weren’t friends, no matter how often he hung out with the nerd. Yeah, today was fun, but just because he liked spending time with him didn’t mean anything. Nope, just regular ole Katsuki Bakugou hatred. With some kissing and hand holding involved, but that was just him being a horny teen! Of course, that made much more sense. Yes, they were going to the movies tomorrow, but only because they both really liked the All Might movies. No other reason.

Satisfied with that explanation, he entered his house, a bit surprised by the lights being on. And then he was a bit pissed off to see his parents standing by the staircase with matching frowns on their faces.

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU, WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?” Mitsuki screamed, looking for all the world like she was about to fly across the room and smack him. Her instant rage set him off.

“I DON’T HAVE TO TELL YOU SHIT, YOU OLD HAG!” Katsuki tried stomping passed his mom, but she blocked like a fucking linebacker, so he was forced into the living room.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that, Katsuki! We were worried about you!” 

“And why the fuck is that my problem?”

“WE CALLED YOU OVER AND OVER, JUST TO SEE YOUR PHONE IN YOUR DAMN ROOM!”

“AND, AGAIN, WHY THE FUCK IS THAT MY PROBLEM?!”

“You ungrateful little shit–”

Masaru put his hand on Mitsuki’s shoulder, leveling her with a look that screamed calm the fuck down. She stood back, still scowling, but allowed herself to be gently pushed onto the couch. 

“Katsuki, when you go somewhere for hours and we can’t get in contact with you, it worries us. Why didn’t you just tell us where you were going? Were you with anyone?” Masaru asked, his voice even. 

For some reason, the last question made him even angrier. 

“Why the fuck do you care if I was with anyone? What’s it to you? Who the fuck even asks something like that, you fucking creeps!” Everything rushed out of his mouth was too quickly, and he knew he’d fucked up when his mom’s eyes lit up in glee at his panic.

“So you were with someone?” 

“What? No! Fuck off!” Katsuki yelled, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Ha! You totally were! Who–”

“I DON’T HAVE TO TELL YOU SHIT!” Katsuki felt himself flailing in this dumb ass conversation, stupidly embarrassed for some reason. 

“YES THE FUCK YOU DO–”

“Mitsuki. Stop,” Masaru’s voice was harsh. He glared at her, and Katsuki got the impression that they’d had a conversation about this before. Whatever ‘this’ was, that is. Katsuki shifted awkward, still trying to reign in whatever dumb emotions had sabotaged him. 

“Katsuki, next time, just please let us know you’re going to be out late. We love you and we want you to be safe, okay?”

Feeling more awkward than before, Katsuki just nodded. His dad sighed and let him go to his room. He closed the door so he didn’t have to hear the tense whispered argument coming from downstairs.

God damn, what the hell just happened? His parents had fought before, but it was over chores and shit like that, not over him. Well, now he was getting the impression that he had not been as keen to their arguments then he thought he’d been, because based on that look from his dad, they were probably rehashing an old one. Whatever– they were adults and could figure that shit out themselves. What they shouldn’t be focusing on was who he was with at all times of the day. 

Katsuki rolled over, trying to ignore the weird feelings he was having. With Deku being way more affectionate today, and them going to the movies tomorrow, and the summer camp starting the day after that… Honestly, fuck his parents for putting more on his plate with their weird arguing about him. 

He fell asleep quickly, trying to shove down the excitement (and anxiety) for tomorrow. 

Maybe this was a terrible fucking idea after all. 

The movie was nearly over, and thank fuck no one else was here, but there wasn’t any mystery as to why: the theater was frankly disgusting. Deku had entered five minutes before him, getting two small sodas, and he’d gotten the popcorn for them to share. The popcorn was stale as fuck and tasted watery for some reason, and the sodas were flat and hot, like tea. It was the grossest shit he’d ever put in his mouth, but at least he and Deku could sit next to each other. Plus, he could low-key geek out over the movie and no one would say shit. 

All Might: First Battle was the third movie in the series, which didn’t make any damn sense, but it was the best. There were a bunch of cool fight scenes, the special effects budget was higher, and, Katsuki’s favorite part, they started using way more violence in this one. The movie was still PG-13, but damn were the filmmakers pushing it. They munched on the nasty popcorn in glee as All Might ripped a pipe out of the wall to bash in one of the zombie villain’s monsters. 

But even watching one of his favorite movies, he was distracted by damn Deku. The nerd was on the literal edge of his seat, even though he’d fallen off during the last fight scene when one of the hostages had revealed himself to be an accomplice. He’d probably seen this movie a million times and yet he was acting like everything that happened was shocking, the dweeb. Katsuki should find this lame, he should be cringing at the pathetic display of hero worship, but the fluttering in his chest was stopping him. Instead, he found himself sneaking glances at the nerd, staring way too hard at the popcorn crumbs still on his lips. Deku whipped his head around, pointing at the screen as All Might used a zombie’s severed, rotten arm to stab the head of another zombie, and he was fucking bouncing in his chair like a child and all Katsuki wanted to do was kiss him.

Get a hold of yourself, fucking hell. Katsuki internally punched himself in the face. He was being weird, letting the feelings leak through, and he needed to stop that shit. Swiveling back to the screen, he let himself get caught up in the awesome action sequences, pretending that he wasn’t glancing at Deku out of the corner of his eye.

When the movie ended, he made his first big mistake of the night. Deku tried to leave, getting up and rambling about a certain scene or something, and Katsuki reached out, grabbing his hand.

“Let’s go, nerd.”

Deku’s shining eyes and sparkling smile was so fucking distracting, Katsuki couldn’t think straight. His mind was obviously being poisoned by this fuck, and he’d care later, but he didn’t give a fuck right now.

They left the theater, tossing the shitty snacks in the trash can on their way out. It was late, which he knew would suck tomorrow when they had to wake up early for the trip, but he rationalized it with we can sleep on the bus. We’re fine, this is fine.

On the way to the train, they didn’t pass a single soul. Katsuki honestly had no idea what part of town they were in, but he didn’t really care. They were walking with space in between, and he intended for that space to remain, but his stupid feelings were seeping through and making him idiotic.

“Did you see that back kick that crushed the zombie’s head like a damn melon?” Katsuki said, that scene flashing in his mind. The alley they were walking through was a bit damp, and the lamp lights reflected on the puddles. He was extremely aware of how alone they were right now. And no, he wasn’t thinking anything of it, of course.

“ Oh my god that was so cool! How did he manage to get that high?!”

“Like this, nerd,” Katsuki brought his foot up, spinning backwards at the same time. It was actually a bit difficult, but he was only a few centimeters short of Deku’s forehead. The nerd automatically blocked the kick, but Katsuki hadn’t actually put much force into it. 

Deku smiled dangerously, then grabbed his heel and tried to kick his other foot out from under him– something All Might did to one of the villain’s lackeys in one of the first fight scenes of the movie. Katsuki bared his teeth like a wolf, feeling weirdly delirious. Because fuck why was his heart fluttering when the nerd was trying to fight him?

He grabbed Deku’s shirt, lifting him over his head in an arch, trying to imitate All Might when he brained a zombie on a fire hydrant. Deku laughed, midair, and made splashing sounds. A fist bumped against the back of his neck, then, with a bit more force, Deku slammed his palm on the top of his head, with the proper squishing sound effects to boot.

Katsuki dropped Deku on the pavement, then did a backflip, reaching his leg out at the last second to kick him in the chest. Deku stumbled back, his eyes lighting up dangerously. Katsuki heard the nerd running up to him, but he didn’t let Deku land the hit to his back, he spun until they were chest to chest. Deku swung up his hand, a laugh escaping. Katsuki felt like he was going to have a fucking heart attack– it felt like every move Deku made was created in a lab to make Katsuki crazy attracted to him. 

He reached out and grabbed Deku’s wrists. There must’ve been something in his face, because the other boy stopped laughing, curious. Despite something in his mind screaming public, we’re in public dumbass!!! he leaned in and caught Deku’s lips with his own. Slowly, still holding his wrists, he led them to the wall of the alley, then pinned Deku’s wrists above his head. Deku hadn’t said a word– not that he could with his mouth occupied– but at this, he gasped, eager. Their lips moved in tandem, then Deku flicked his tongue, guiding it along Katsuki’s bottom lip. 

The small voice in his head, the one that kept reminding him of his ground rules, of the very public place they were in, disappeared. All that mattered was Deku, and this moment with him. He opened his mouth more, pushing against the other, then let his hands trail from the other’s lips to shoulders, then down to his hips. Deku made a sound then, different from anything he’d heard before, sort of a whine and a grunt all in one. He pulled away, gasping.

“Kacchan, touch me. Please. ”

If Katsuki thought he could control any of his emotions now, then he was stupider than he’d thought. A shiver ran through his body and he growled like a fucking dog because what the fuck. How the fuck was he supposed to react? Deku was fucking begging him, looking like that, blushing and freckly and so beautiful. He’s so fucking beautiful. 

“Kacchan, I want more than kissing ,” Deku pleaded, and if Katsuki had normal brain function, he’d realize that maybe Deku had two meanings to that, and that maybe Deku had the same possessiveness Katsuki secretly had, too. But Katsuki had the mental functioning of a rock at the moment, so no deeper understanding was made.

Katsuki probably would’ve killed a man to figure out what the fuck Deku wanted right now, though. Did he want him to wrap his arms around him like he’d done before? What did he mean by ‘touch me’ ? That was way too vague. 

“Fucking how ?” Katsuki panted out. Deku didn’t respond, too out of breath, maybe too embarrassed, but Katsuki didn’t want him to be. He wanted him to feel what he was feeling– the fireworks inside his brain, the stampede in his chest– so he pulled away from the kiss and bent down to Deku’s neck, trying to push past whatever inexperience and awkwardness he felt. He must’ve been doing something right, because Deku fucking whimpered and he started pushing himself against him and fucking shit– Katsuki was being so dumb, so fucking stupid because he couldn’t help himself, he knew he was probably leaving hickeys on his neck the night before summer camp, but the sick pleasure he got from doing so made him just kiss harder. Everyone needs to know, everyone HAS to know he’s mine–

Someone grabbed his shoulder, yanking him away from Deku.

Panic, like he’d never felt in his life, gripped his heart. Immediately, he was in fight mode– he tried to swing an explosion out towards the attacker, but nothing happened. Fuck.

Aizawa stood in front of them in full hero getup, red glow emanating from behind his goggles. With them on, it was hard to gauge his full expression, but Katsuki didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the terrible awkwardness in the air. His stomach dropped like a fucking boulder. From behind him, Deku was trembling in fear, the familiar hitch of breath that always promised tears starting. They were utterly and truly fucked.

“It’s nearly midnight,” Aizawa said, voice low. “Teens have an earlier curfew in this part of town.” Neither he nor Deku responded. Katsuki was frozen, like if he didn’t move, then his teacher would forget that he’d caught them like that. He knows he knows he’s gonna laugh at me again everyone will laugh at me AGAIN–

“I’ll walk you to the train station,” Aizawa waited for either of them to say something. When they didn’t he just sighed for longer than should be possible, then pointed to the street. After a beat, Deku started awkwardly shuffling forwards and Katsuki got to see his face: he was pale, eyes pinprick, like he was in shock. Honestly, he probably looked the same. He had balled his hands into fists to stop the horrible shaking. 

They walked in complete silence, the only sounds were their shuffling feet. The tension was so strong he felt sick– which might’ve been because of the intense fear shifting inside his gut. Part terrible, shitty popcorn, part deep, primordial fear. Great fucking cocktail.

Reaching the train station was a relief, even though he knew there wasn’t anything he could do to fix this. Aizawa had literally caught them red handed– twice. This time while Katsuki was leaving a big fat fucking hickey on Deku’s neck. Katsuki had to swallow because he was about the blow fucking chunks. They waited for their train, Aizawa looming behind them. Five whole minutes passed in absolute silence.

“The bus leaves at 7am exactly. Don’t be late,” Aizawa said. Their train was about a minute away and it took all of Katsuki’s willpower to not form his tiny explosions because he really needed to chill the fuck out. His body felt like it was itchy and his fingers kept twitching involuntarily. The seconds crawled by as the train slowed in the station, finally arriving. Thank fucking god. 

“Problem students,” Aizawa said as they got on the train, “Be more responsible the next time you two go on a date.”

The doors closed. 

The silence followed them into the train. They just stood in front of the door, mouths gaping. Katsuki honestly thought that Deku forgot how to breathe. 

“FUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!”

The scream caused Deku to startle hard, stepping back several feet. Katsuki punched the train wall, steam escaping his fists, rage overcoming him. Any and all nuanced emotions he had previously felt melted away, all feeling a lot fucking like rage. Fucking Deku had gotten them caught again! After Katsuki had fucking warned him! The ground rules! The FUCKING rules!

“You piece of SHIT! You FUCKING DID THIS!!” He roared, furious. Deku’s face went from shock to pissed.

“Me? I said we could leave the theater separately! You didn’t want to!”

“Of fucking course, you twist this shit back onto me. You were probably planning this shit the whole time, huh? Trying to make me look stupid as fuck?” Katsuki was spitting in rage, no logic could tempt him at this time, because Deku was right. He did completely fuck up– by allowing Deku back into his life.

He laughed, soundly slightly hysterical. “I should’ve told you to fuck off. But you– you fucking–” Katsuki grabbed his face as if he could keep himself together with the pressure, his breath picking up. “Fucking shit. FUCK! Everything’s fucked , our fucking sensei thinks we’re dating , like I’d ever–”

Deku’s face crumbled, lower lip wobbling. 

“What? You’d never date me? Never kiss me? Well guess what Kacchan, you did. What we’ve been doing? That’s called dating. Don’t pretend like this meant nothing to you! I’m sorry you find me so d-disgusting,” Deku’s voice wobbled, his eyes welling up, “You can’t just– kiss me like that , then-then act like I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you.” Deku finished by plopping down on the plastic train seat and burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Katsuki didn’t know what to do. His rage was boiling, but he wasn’t so far gone as to lie and say the kisses hadn’t been amazing. Even now, every single one stood out in his brain as literally the best moments of his life. But then he’d see the snickering, pitying expressions on the faces of his teachers and his parents’. That had ruined him– he’d promised to never feel those shit feelings ever again. If he was being truly honest, he was fucking terrified. 

“You are the worst fucking thing that ever happened to me, Deku. I like kissing you, sure, but you as a person? You’re fucking scum, Deku.”

Deku looked up, tears streaming down his face. 

“F-Fuck you , Kacchan.”

With that, Deku got up. He walked to the farthest end of the train and sat, crying but trying to stifle the sounds with his hands. Katsuki’s chest hurt. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. He was angry as fuck– at Deku for being the person that he needed, at himself for fucking everything up, at Aizawa for catching them, at his parents for allowing him to go to the movies today. The rage was fading, and while anger was still the main emotion, all the other scary feelings started to flood in. He sat on the floor of the train, ignoring how nasty it was, the small explosions forming in his hand as he tried to squash the feelings back in. So fucking what he’d ruined everything with Deku? He didn’t need that fucker. He didn’t need anything or anyone, and certainly not Deku’s fucking kisses and his stupid-ass ramblings or his dumb sparking eyes and— fucking hell.  Those thoughts didn’t help him squish the feelings down– in fact, it made them start to emerge faster. If he didn’t get off this fucking train right now he was going to cry. In front of Deku. There was no fucking way he was doing that. Their stop was coming up soon, maybe about three minutes, so all he needed to do was fucking breathe and not freak out until he was alone. He was fine, he was more than fine because he was Katuski fucking Bakugou, the future greatest hero of all time.

Deku’s crying was making calming down hard as hell. He shouldn’t give a fuck about Deku’s tears– he’d caused a lot of them in his life. But right now, Deku’s crying felt like an end. It felt like he’d hurt him for the last time, that these were the last moments they’d have together alone. Katsuki turned around, hands covering his face as a few traitorous tears escaped. Fucking shit, this was so stupid. Why was he so emotional suddenly? Why did he give a fuck about Deku? Was it because they wouldn’t kiss anymore? That must be it. That’s definitely all that it was, because there was no way he would miss the talks, the ramblings, and especially not how he’d felt last night in the ocean, or today at the movies… He didn’t need it. He didn’t need Deku.

The train stopped. Deku ran out, disappearing in the dark, dimly lit street. Katsuki watched him go. And despite his protests, his heart ached and all he could think was he hates me he hates me he hates me…

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t want to wake up.

He’d only slept for maybe 30 minutes. He needed sleep, but all he wanted to do was wallow in his misery; unfortunately, he knew that he’d never forgive himself if he missed UA’s summer camp because of a broken heart. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go anymore, but that was just his emotions talking. The prospect of seeing everyone, having to perform top of his game, was beyond daunting.

He’d been crying all night, and it showed– puffy face, bloodshot eyes– so there was absolutely no way his friends wouldn’t pester him to tell them what was wrong, and he wouldn’t. Even though Kacchan had been cruel, he never say a word. He couldn’t bring himself to betray him, no matter how much Kacchan had hurt him. And it had hurt – the words ‘ you’re scum, Deku’ bouncing around his head like a curse. Worse were the memories of the past week: Kacchan’s soft gaze, finally landing on Izuku, his attention solely on him. It’d felt like a fairytale, with Kacchan as his prince, whisking him away on a whirlwind romance. And no matter how much Kacchan tried to play it cool, that’s what it was. They’d always been drawn to each other, like two dying stars, alone in their section of the galaxy. Honestly, he should’ve seen this coming– stars colliding was usually catastrophic. 

God, he felt so stupid. Of course Kacchan wouldn’t want anyone to know they were together– he was Katsuki Bakugou, the amazing hero prodigy. And Izuku was just a deku. Useless, worthless. Why would Kacchan ever care about me? Why would anyone ever care about a loser like me?

He knew that he was sliding back into old, bad habits. He’d gotten a lot better at drowning out those negative thoughts, knew how terrible they could be for his mental health. But they were familiar, almost comforting right now. The pain in his heart could be reasoned with– no need to be hurt, Izuku, because you’re bad, you’ve always been scum, no reason to get upset at a basic fact – and he needed the numbness. It was better than anything else. Better than replaying the disgust on Kacchan’s face last night–

Grabbing his phone, he turned it on to look at the time and nearly broke again. His wallpaper was a photo he’d sneakily taken of Kacchan in his room, the other’s face softened with a smile. Izuku breathed, chin wobbling as he went to his camera roll to change it back to the All Might selfie he’d had it on. He couldn’t help himself– he swiped through the other candid pictures he’d taken of Kacchan this week. Him sleepy on the bed, him sitting on the floor with a contemplative look on his face, them walking home from the movies, Kacchan’s face so relaxed, right before Aizawa— 

Izuku shuddered, physically shaking his head like he could shake off the horrific embarrassment he felt, followed by the worst heartbreak he’d ever felt. He almost wished he’d had his eyes open while Kacchan was, um, kissing his neck (the thought of that made both a blush rise on his cheeks and tears sting his eyes), just so he might’ve seen Aizawa coming. Just thinking about the fact that his sensei had caught them like that– 

Izuku buried his head in his hands, groaning. Honestly, he’d had nightmares less horrifying. He doubted he’d be able to look his sensei in the eyes anytime soon, maybe never again. If he wasn’t so dedicated to being a hero, he’d consider dropping out entirely. 

There was only twenty minutes until his alarm rang, so he gave up on sleeping any more. Not like he could, anyway. Putting on his clothes and showering went by in a blur. Luckily, the shower helped get rid of most of the puffiness of his face, but there was no way that all of it would go away. Even worse– the hickies. MULTIPLE of them, for god’s sake. He shared a bathroom with his mom, so he just rifled through her makeup bag, picking out the things that looked like it would cover them. They were sensitive to the touch, but even worse, just looking at them reminded him of what Kacchan’s kisses had felt like, and worse, the way he’d begged – 

He slapped the makeup on, biting into his cheek so hard he tasted blood. The heat in his cheeks and the lump in his throat made him feel borderline nauseous. He couldn’t think about those memories. He was literally on the edge of a breakdown and if he didn’t stop himself, then he’d crumble into tiny, Izuku sized pieces. Or worse: call Kacchan. Even though he had no idea what he was doing, the makeup worked okay, as long as you didn’t look too closely. Grabbing the products, he shoved them into the side pocket of his bag. He’d have to find a way to reapply the products every morning, but that was a problem for later. No time for planning that right now.

He couldn’t hide his emotions from his friends or his mom if he fell apart now. Grabbing his duffle bag, he tiptoed down the stairs. Please still be asleep, please be asleep… 

A plate of eggs and toast, along with a glass of orange juice, sat at the table. His mom walked in from the kitchen right as he reached the final step, because the universe enjoyed seeing him suffer. 

After he’d come back home after midnight the other night, Inko’d had a fit. She was upset that he’d been leaving everyday, being secretive about who he was seeing, and she was confused as to why he wouldn’t just tell her why he seemed so happy. They’d had a nice conversation, which ended with both of them crying of course, but Izuku said he would try and talk to her more openly. Well, he was about to completely break that promise because no way in hell was he about to spill the beans. If he opened his mouth at all he was afraid he’d burst into tears, which would make his mom freak out and maybe keep him home from the camp and Izuku would spend this week wallowing in heartbreak from both Kacchan and missing out… 

He took a deep breath. He could do this! He was a hero in training. No way was he about to miss out on something so important because of terrible, world shattering life events happening to him. He was fine! Everything was FINE.

“Good morning, mom!” Izuku said. Then promptly burst into tears, just like he’d feared he would.

“Oh my baby!” Inko cried, racing over to hug him. She, too, started crying. Her hug was exactly what he needed. The soothing comfort of his mom after a full night of crying healed like nothing else. He tried to reign in his pain, barely managing to hold onto some semblance of composure. 

“Are you nervous about the camp? If it’s too much, you can stay home–”

“No! No,” Izuku said, sniffling. “I’m just excited. You know I’ve never been to a sleep away camp so I’m just afraid that I’ll miss home— BUT not too much fear because I’m sure it’ll be fine! So there’s no need to keep me home because if I’m going to be a hero and a successful adult I need to face, um, challenges that are– are hard and stuff, because adversity creates strength–” He was rambling at this point, but he’d say anything to keep his mom from worrying too much and pulling him out. Plus, the rambling helped his grasp onto his emotions again, even if the hold was tentative at best.

“Okay, okay, Izuku, I trust you. I’m just being silly, I know. I love you,” his mom peppered his face with a few kisses. He giggled and weakly protested, but didn’t push her away. He wanted to stay– he needed the comfort she provided, but this opportunity was too great to pass up. 

They wiped their tears together, and he got to enjoy his mother’s presence for a while. It was nice to forget the pain– even just for a second. Kacchan’s words, Aizawa’s humiliating discovery, the uncertain future– all of it faded away. He knew that they would return, the soul crushing ache and despair, so he tried to enjoy it while it lasted. But far too soon he was finished with breakfast, duffle bag in his left hand on the train while his mom was holding his right. It felt like a millisecond had gone by, but in a blink, Inko was waving him goodbye as he walked towards the school bus, the warmth of her hand a phantom feeling. Summer camp had started.

He was early– only Iida, Todoroki, Hagakure, and Ojiro were there. Hagakure was sitting on her suitcase, seemingly asleep, and Ojiro was meditating on the lawn. Well, he was probably asleep too– his breathing looked a little too relaxed. 

Todoroki raised a hand to greet him, looking way too awake for 6:15 in the morning, with perfectly combed hair and pressed uniform shirt. Similarly, Iida was stretching as if he was about to run a 5K, but his uniform and appearance was top-notch, not a wrinkle in sight. Izuku, on the other hand, knew his eye bags were probably touching his chin, and his bloodshot eyes weren’t doing him any favors either. Kacchan picked the worst possible time to break my heart… 

He slapped his cheeks– no thinking about Kacchan! It was time for camp, he could ruminate later! 

“Good morning, Midoriya! Glad to see you here so early. A punctual student is a good student,” said Iida, mid stretch. 

“Ah, good morning, Iida, Todoroki,” Izuku replied. He tried to imbue his tone with positivity, and it half-way worked, even if it sounded a bit dead. He could do this. He would be able to fool his friends into not thinking anything was suspicious! It WOULD work!

“Are you alright, Midoriya? You look kind of puffy,” Todoroki’s flat voice killed any hope he had. He felt his soul die a little more inside of him as Iida’s head whipped around to inspect him.

“I’m fine hahaha! Just didn’t sleep well, too excited, ya know me, such a nerd for this stuff. Speaking of, have you guys heard anything about the camp? Any details you’d be willing to talk about for, oh I don’t know, 45 to 50 minutes?”

They stared at him for a moment. 

“Midoriya, are you sure you’re okay?” Todoroki quirked an eyebrow. He’s onto me, shoot!

“Yep, just great! Anway, about the camp–”

“IZUKU!” He jumped at the scream from behind him, and would’ve probably yelped if not for the bone crushing hug Uraraka gave him, squeezing all air out. A sad wheeze left his body from the embrace.

“I missed you! We didn’t hang out at all this week! Did you do anything fun? How’s your mom? Tell me all about it–”

“ACTUALLY Uraraka I have to use the bathroom, sorrygottagobye!” Izuku dropped his duffle bag and sprinted towards the closest building. He was just going to hide out in here until a minute before the bus left. Maybe they’d forget about all of this by then, and maybe they’d leave him alone on the bus, too. Yeah and maybe Kacchan’s in love with you, a sarcastic voice in his head said cruelly. God, that felt like a dagger to his already wounded heart, because what the hell, inner voice? 

Izuku pinched his leg, hard, trying not to cry. He knew that thinking about Kacchan was a one-way ticket to a breakdown, and yet his brain couldn’t leave it alone. And why would it? He’s been obsessed with Kacchan his whole life, and last week had just increased the obsession a hundred-fold. He’d never be able to flip that switch. As long as he lived, a part of his brain would belong to Kacchan. Fifty years from now, he’d probably be pinning every magazine cover of Kacchan to his fridge, all the while Izuku would just be a faded memory of some annoying loser from highschool. 

He entered the building, some custodial storage place by the looks of it, and tried to find a bathroom. None of the doors were labeled, and it was surprisingly large for a storage place. He opened a few doors before giving up. Plopping down on the floor, he indulged in a little bit of self-pity. How was he going to make it through the camp without breaking down? He hadn’t even gotten on the stupid bus yet and he was hiding in what was essentially just an enlarged broom closet. There was no way he’d get away with this. His friends would eventually figure out that he wasn’t, in fact, okay, and they’d get annoyed at him for refusing to share any details, then they’d get mad at him and probably decide that they couldn’t be friends with a Deku like him anymore. The possibility of losing all his friends and Kacchan in the same week seemed inevitable the more he thought about it.

Light illuminated the room as someone opened the door. Great, probably Iida or Uraraka coming to pry him for information. He winced at himself and his annoyance– his friends were just worried about him! And hadn’t he just convinced himself that they’d eventually ditch him, anyway? No need to be rude , he chided himself. Now he felt bad for a multitude of reasons, all of which were making it really freaking hard not to start crying. Get it together, Izuku, calm down. You’re fine, it’s okay… 

“Problem child.”

Izuku nearly bashed his head through a wall. Of all the people on planet earth, Aizawa sensei was the last person he wanted to see. He didn’t reply, just scooted further into the corner, as if he could make himself small enough to hide from the knowing eyes of his teacher. 

“Midoriya. I need to speak with you.” Aizawa stepped closer, maintaining his distance but not letting Izuku hide. He’d rather eat All Might’s entire head of hair than have this conversation right now. 

“I apologize if I embarrassed you and Bakugou last night,” Aizawa said, honestly looking very awkward. Please talk about something else, anything else sensei… 

“I know that teenagers are sensitive about these kinds of things. I was advised that I may have crossed a line.”

He was ‘advised’? By who? He’d talked about what happened?! With someone else?! Izuku felt light headed and sick. A small, hysterical giggle escaped his mouth. 

“Oh, that? No big deal, sensei! It’s fine! No worries! No embarrassment here, no sir. Everything’s great, ” His voice sounded shrill. He sounded like a crazy person insisting he was sane, which at this point, he actually would go crazy if any other terrible bomb was dropped on him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being upset, Midoriya. It’s okay,” Aizawa said, stepping closer. He reached out a hesitant hand, then stiffly patted Izuku on the shoulder. “If you need to talk, I’m available,” he coughed awkwardly, dropping his arm. The hand was sturdy, and trustworthy. The promise of a third party was tempting. Internally, he scolded himself. Don’t open up, Izuku, it’s not worth it, you’ll make a fool of yourself even more than you already have.   “But if you’d like someone with more tact, I’m sure Hound Dog can–”

“He hates me!” All at once, the tears exploded from Izuku. He’d gotten one iota of support and completely broken like the weakling he was. And he’d broken down on Aizawa of all people! The man that had caught him in the throes of passion not even 8 hours ago! I’m pathetic. Sticky tears fell down his cheeks at an alarming rate, but not a force on earth could stop them at this point. His shoulders shook from the force of his despair, and he just cried.

“He-he said awful things and,” Izuku paused, sobs blocking his words, Aizawa’s startled face making everything worse, “and I don’t e-even know what to do without him!” 

Aizawa grabbed his shoulders, bringing him in for a hug. To be frank, it was terrible. Sensei was like a brick wall of awkwardness, the polar opposite of Inko’s hugs, but Izuku was so far gone he just buried his face in Aizawa’s chest, probably getting tears and snot all over his hero costume. He gripped the man’s shirt, seeking all the comfort he could get. 

Izuku wailed like a damn baby. Literally ‘wah-wah’-ing and coughing like a sick child, open mouthed and wet, but he couldn’t stop. Kacchan was gone, but worse, he’d shown Izuku exactly what life would be like if they were together and it was beautiful. It was everything he wanted, more even, better than the grandest dreams, but Kacchan had ruined it. He was too afraid and he’d refused to accept that he could be happy with Izuku. 

Maybe I was too eager. Maybe I acted too needy, too desperate. I tried to take it further with him, asking for too much. Even if Aizawa hadn’t caught us, Kacchan probably would’ve been scared off eventually by my love. 

“Everything’s r-ruined!” Izuku sobbed, unable to calm down.

“It’s okay, problem child. Just take a breath and–”

“Sensei,” he cried, looking up at the alarmed man’s face, “I-I’m destined to die alone!” 

“Hey,” his teacher said, serious. Izuku pulled away a bit from the man, internally cringing at the tear stains and snot he left behind. “You are a courageous person, Midoriya. You are good. Anyone would be lucky to know you.”

“But I don’t want just anyone. I want Kacchan. And I know that it probably seems like some teenage fling, but it's more than that. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve had memories. He’s been my image of victory, but more than that, he’s been my everything . And he doesn’t even care about me!” Izuku sobbed. He was exhausted– no sleep plus full body crying was not a good mix– but more than that, he was just so, so sad. What Kacchan had said wasn’t that different from the things he’s said to him before, but the fact that their relationship had been so wildly amazing, just to crash and burn the second they were found out, was the worst possible outcome. Because maybe Kacchan had been entirely truthful– maybe he couldn’t give less of a shit about Izuku as a person, and maybe he just wanted to make out with him. Maybe he was using him for his body . And Izuku knew, in the sad, broken part of himself, that if Kacchan walked through the door right now and asked if they could kiss again, he’d say yes. He’d do anything for him, even if it meant giving up his dignity.

“I’m so fucking p-pathetic! I’m basically his-his mistress or something and I’m doing it with a smile on my face!” Izuku knew he shouldn’t be saying any of this, knew that cursing in front of his teacher was bound to get him in trouble, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I’m such a loser, I’m doomed to love someone who hates my guts–”

“Midoriya! Don’t ever say that again. You are not pathetic, and you are not a loser. You are loyal, and you are kind beyond reason,” Aizawa’s stern voice was oddly comforting. He’d only ever heard his mom defend him like that, but she was soft and gentle about it. Aizawa was lecturing him like he did in class, but about his self worth and not about quirk law or something. While it didn’t make his awful feelings go away, it did help him calm down a bit, enough to breathe a little at least.

“And if you think Bakugou doesn’t care about you, then you’re wrong.” 

Now that was enough to shock him, his tears ceasing. He looked at Aizawa’s face, because he must be joking, right? But he looked as serious as ever. 

“Don’t get me wrong– he should never make you feel like this, and he has no right to belittle or insult you. And even though he is one of the most emotionally constipated kids I’ve ever taught, it’s obvious to anyone that spends time with him that you are his world . He’s angry, he’s brash, he’s rude– but he’s obsessed with you.”

Izuku shook his head, because there was no way. Kacchan didn’t care about him, not in the way Izuku cared about Kacchan. Izuku’s head was full of negative, awful thoughts, and maybe someday he could recognize the truth in Aizawa’s statement, but at the moment, all he could hear was ‘you’re scum, Deku… you’re scum.’

Aizawa sighed, then rubbed Izuku’s back. 

“Even still, just because Bakugou is having trouble figuring himself out, that doesn’t mean it was okay to take it out on you. Maybe when he matures, he can apologize,” Aizawa coughed uncomfortably, “as, err, was my intention coming in here. I’m not sorry that I caught you– you do need to be careful in that part of town at midnight, and PDA is illegal, problem child– but I shouldn’t have teased you two. I crossed a line not only as your teacher, but also as a hero.”

Aizawa’s awkwardness faded as he spoke. He looked Izuku in the eyes, and he seemed genuinely remorseful. Which, to be honest, was very weird, because Izuku had very little experience with being apologized to in general, especially not by an adult. He ducked his head, nodding subtly. He wasn’t sure what to say. Kacchan breaking things off and saying the horrible things he did wasn’t Aizawa’s fault. The other points that his sensei had made seemed more important, anyhow. Kacchan? Immature? When he matures, he’ll understand…. A light went off in his head. I just have to wait. Beaming, he swung back his head up to his teacher.

“Sensei! You’re right! I just need to wait until Kacchan’s mature enough, and then we can get back together!” A giggle of relief escaped his lips. He wasn’t losing Kacchan! He was just waiting for him. I’ll wait forever if I have to. He'll realize eventually. The smile on his face was so wide it hurt, and the previous snot and tears were ignored.

He jumped forward, hugging Aizawa. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Best sensei ever! ” He leaned back, ignoring his teacher’s dumbfounded, confused expression, and the eyeroll that followed. (“Goddamn teenagers,” he’d later say to Present Mic. “Were we like that as teens?” And Hizashi would peck his lips, chuckling, “ Of course we were, my love.”)

“Alright, alright, as long as you feel better. Also, the restroom is over there. Go wash your face and head back to the bus.” 

After he'd washed up, they left the building. Izuku felt like Atlas losing the weight of the world. He would ignore the spiky blond, act like nothing happened, let him stew in his own juices, and Kacchan would come back running! It may take a week, it may take a month, it may take 30 damn years, but he’d be Izuku’s. And then everything would be right in the world again. 

He marched towards the buses, a smile on his face as his friends greeted him. They seemed pleased at his happiness, and nothing could get him down right now. Not when he knew that everything would work out in the end. More and more of his classmates arrived, the clock ticking down, and it was only when the bus driver started corralling kids onto the bus that Kacchan snuck out of the shadows. He saw Kacchan out of the corner of his eye, and it gave him a bit of sick pleasure to see the blond as distressed as Izuku had been-– blood-shot eyes and his face paler than ever before. Kacchan wouldn’t even look at him. Well, good! He deserved a bit of emotional turmoil after what he’d said to Izuku. (In his mind, though, all he wanted to do was run over and kiss him, wipe his tears away and beg him to come back. He sat up, steeling himself. His plan would work, he just needed to be patient!)

I’ll show him. He’ll see how unaffected I am and he’ll be so angry, he’ll HAVE to talk to me! Izuku felt deliriously giddy, and a kind of evil sounding laugh burst out of his mouth. He should be calmer about this, but he couldn’t stop the fluttering of his heart. It was like a light from above had allowed him to glimpse his future, and there was nothing getting in his way. He’d be just fine, Kacchan would grow up and feel so bad about what he said, he’d come crawling back with a ring in his hand, begging Izuku for forgiveness and marriage! He cackled, not noticing the concerned looks on his friends faces. 

On some level, he was aware that he himself was being immature and childish, imagining a future where Kacchan suddenly realized all he’d done wrong, but he couldn’t stop the daydreams. The horror and gloom that he’d been feeling was gone, and in its place he’d put hope. More than hope: certainty. Maybe there’d be more obstacles than he thought, maybe it would take a long time, maybe Kacchan would do something stupid like move away before they could get together, but Izuku was 100% certain that nothing would permanently stop them from getting together. Not as long as Izuku had patience.

He was so fucking stupid. 

Later, as he saw Kacchan, his Kacchan, disappear into Kurogiri’s portal, Izuku’s throat ripping from a scream, the panic and desperation in Kacchan’s eyes scarier than anything he’d ever seen before… 

How could they have a future together if one of them was dead? 

Chapter Text

Katsuki was… somewhere. 

Whatever that meant. He wasn’t asleep, that’s for sure. Other than that, he had no idea. But that didn’t make sense. At least, he was pretty sure that was confusing. Wait, what?

He tried to take stock of his head, sort his brain like a filing cabinet. Katsuki felt like he was swimming in soup, if the soup was brain juice. What the hell was wrong with him?

Anger. He knew what that felt like. And he was fucking angry. 

Fear. Less familiar with that, but he’d gotten a lot of practice lately with feeling it. And right now, he had an abundance. 

Alright, two things that were true. Well, three. He was awake, he was scared, and he was angry as hell. What else? 

He flexed his fingers. Counted them– felt weirdly relieved at the normal ten fingers. Why wouldn’t he have all his fingers? 

Villains. Kidnapped. Torture?

There was something on his head. A bag? It was pretty tight, and soft. Maybe a bandage? Kidnapper bags were usually burlap in the movies. Not that this was anything like the movies. For one, he wasn’t sure he was even in a van.

That didn’t make sense. Why the fuck would he be in a van? He’d been taken in a portal. Stupid shadow-guy and that marble maker fuck-head. 

Deku…?

Deku’s desperate, screaming face popped into his mind. 

No. Katsuki's mind shut off. There was no way Deku was here, too. Even though his memory was fuzzy, the image of the portal closing long before Deku could reach him was solid and real. It had to be or Katsuki would lose his fucking shit. He’d begged Deku not to come, not to die, too.

A cold surface pressed against his back. He was shirtless– which was made significantly worse by the fact that he was pantless, too. Still has his briefs on, but the vulnerability wasn’t pleasant. These fuckers better not be pervs. Katsuki would kill them, of course, but on the slight chance he couldn’t… 

The stupid fear was making it hard to breathe. He knew something was wrong with his head, so that was probably making his emotions harder to control. A steady throbbing beat was beginning to make itself known inside his brain, and the way the bandage was wrapped around his eyes loosely, but very tightly around his temple and scalp were concerning. Probably a last minute attempt to blindfold him after wrapping up his injury. He reached a hand up, making the dumb mistake of touching the tender part. He nearly threw up just from that– and that wasn’t good. 

Hope I’m not brain-bleeding. Have a brain bleed? Bleeding within the brain? 

Okay. He wasn’t well. The thoughts in his head were disjointed and stupid, and Katsuki hated feeling stupid.

Not that he’d felt very smart lately. Not after what he’d said to Deku.

The past few days at the camp were awful, which sucked in an entirely new way because he was supposed to be enjoying camp, learning badass new techniques and fighting with pro-heroes, but instead he was distracted. Fucking distracted from the coolest shit ever, because of Deku. 

Katsuki had fully expected him to be crying the entire trip, and while he would’ve hated that, at least it would’ve been better than the reality. Deku had ignored him. Fully and truly pretended like Katsuki was just another extra from their class. He seemed a bit giddy even. The fucker was fine! 100% fine! But if he was fine, why wouldn’t he talk to Katsuki? It drove him goddamn crazy. All he wanted was for the green haired dork to talk to him, smile at him, fucking look at him for more than half a second, but he wouldn’t. He was too busy laughing with his friends and trying to tame the bratty little kid that hung around the Pussycats. Deku didn’t even seem to remember the week they’d had together, nor the kissing. The hickies on his neck had somehow disappeared, too! What the fuck?! Was the fucker magic?!

Katsuki could tell he was worrying his friends by how he was acting. He’d switch from moody and sullen to overly pissed, and then Kirishima had walked into the showers at like 3am to see him, ahem, totally not crying, but maybe-kinda crying a little bit. Needless to say, it was obvious he was a wreck, whereas Deku was just fucking peachy.

It didn’t make sense. Was he over Katsuki, just like that? Had that been the final straw?

He’d barely slept. All he could think about was how he’d ruined everything. But what the fuck was he supposed to do? Just let people know what an idiot he was? Let people in to see his emotions, like some soft loser? He wasn’t that kind of person. No matter what happened, he’d never be able to be so open with people like that. The idea of it made him want to explode the faces of everyone that came near, and so him remaining closed off to the world was honestly the best thing for everyone. 

But then, none of that had mattered. It didn’t matter that Deku didn’t care about him anymore, it didn’t matter that Katsuki was having trouble dealing with the consequences of his own actions. Because the villains attacked, and he needed to find Deku, but it turned out Katsuki was a target. Mandalay’s voice in his head saying Kacchan had both scared and excited him– because he hadn’t heard that nickname in days, and he knew exactly who had warned her. Ha! So you do care about me, nerd. It wasn’t much but he’d take it. Maybe a brush with death would make Deku notice him again. 

Now, he regretted the dismissive way he’d thought about the warning. He’d been focused on Deku’s possible reignited feelings and not the fact that he was a serious target. Of fucking course the one time he’s not focused on the enemy and he gets kidnapped. He’s shirtless, pantless, confused as fuck and basing on the weight around his ankles, chained to the damn floor. Worst mistake of his damn life. What the fuck did he say, huh!? Feelings shit ruins everything!!

There was a sudden breeze as the door opened. Sound filled his room– harsh laughter, crackling conversation, the clink of cups on wood. His cell must be sound proof, then. He raised his hands, still blind but not willing to go down without a fight.

“Back the fuck off, pedo. I’ll bring down this whole goddamn building if you touch me, bastard.” Katsuki was serious, too. These villains were stupid as fuck if they thought he’d just get kidnapped and not fight back. 

Rough chuckles came from the front of the room. Katsuki subtly adjusted his hands, trying to will away the throbbing pain in his head. He had a feeling that if he could see, his vision would be spinning.

“Relax, firecracker. I’m not kiddie-inclined. Came to check on that impressive goose-egg.” The man stepped forward, and Katsuki scooted as far away as he could, but the stupid chain was so short he couldn’t even reach the far wall without ripping his foot off. 

“I said BACK THE FUCK OFF! I’m not letting your freaky villain hands touch me. I’ll blow your fucking face off.” Katsuki ignored his voice crack, tried to quell his fear. He was furious at the bastard for thinking he was stupid. Did this fucker really think he’d let him get close and play nurse? Fucking really? Katsuki wasn’t gonna just sit still for some kid stealer.

“Hey, I’m trying to help, kid. Kurogiri feels a bit bad about that, by the way. He didn’t mean to drop you from so high up, but we had to switch locations pretty quickly. You were out for a while, but look at you! Awake and angry. You know your name and the year and everything, right? Not sure our plan will work if you’re brain dead now.”

“Fuck you, I’m not saying shit.” The man took a step forward and Katsuki released an explosion. Well, tried to– nothing happened.  

The man chuckled. “Yeah, sorry about the quirk suppression cuffs. Couldn’t let you, how’d you put it? ‘Bring down this whole goddamn building?’”

Fuck. Not good. 

The man reached him, and Katsuki lunged. He wrapped his hands around the man’s arm, and yanked him forwards. He seemed to expect this, and just as Katsuki tried to get his knee buried in the man’s gut, he felt a crack to his nose– but more importantly, his head rang like a fucking dinner bell. There was no stopping it– he doubled over, vomiting on the concrete. Fuck, where is he, I can’t– my head, fuck– he’s gonna… where is he–

He became aware of the man shushing him, pulling him somewhat gently to the floor. Katsuki jerked away from the oddly-wrinkled touch, but he could barely string two thoughts together, let alone fight back. He felt two more cuffs clink around his wrist, and then the chains getting tightened, and he couldn’t stop the groan of pure fucking rage and fear, because now he couldn’t move at all, now the man had free reign to do whatever he wanted–

“Don’ fucken tou’h me, fuck’r–” Katuski slurred, barely able to speak. His nose was streaming blood into his mouth, and he didn’t have the coordination to spit, so he tilted his head forwards so he didn’t choke, letting the saliva and blood drip onto his chest and thighs.

The villain started unwrapping his bandages, and Katsuki nearly threw up again when the fabric started pulling on the scab. The man tutted, then finally unwrapped the wound entirely. 

Katsuki opened his eyes. It hurt, a fuck ton. Even without a light, there was a tiny window somewhere, so a dim stream of sunlight revealed a concrete box of a room, with a drain and D rings on the floor. More metal loops were nailed to the wall, presumably to hold the chains for whatever kidnapped fucker these people had hostage. Which included him, now, but he wasn’t the first to use this room, based on the old blood stains.

The man was horrifically scarred– covered head to toe in deep purple burns. He looked kind of familiar, weirdly enough. But Katsuki wasn’t focused on the man’s appearance, he was watching his hands. While his ability to move was limited as fuck, he wasn’t going down without a fight. If the dude tried something gross, he’d bite off his fucking nose. 

Scarred Villain seemed like he was telling the truth about not being a kid toucher, at least so far. He brought out some cotton balls and isopropyl alcohol, and one of those large cotton bandages along with some skin tape. 

“You’ll have a pretty nasty scar, but, hey, not as bad as mine,” the bastard joked, a wry smile on his lips. “We’re not exactly surgeons, and my sutures are admittedly not as good as the fancy nurses you’re probably used to at UA.”

He reached out with the cotton ball, even though Katsuki bared his teeth and growled like a dog. He didn’t want a mouthful of alcohol, so he let the villain clean the wound. Not like he could do anything– the pressure of the cotton ball nearly made him black out. He had to grit his teeth so he didn’t give away the fact that he was actually close to tears. The bandage was gently pressed on, even though the light tapping made him swallow groans. When scar face was done, Katsuki had to take a few deep breaths. Burnt fucker backed away, hands up sarcastically. 

“All patched up, kid. You can stop acting like you’re about to bite me now.”

“Fuck you, basta’d.” Damn, his voice was still horrifically nasally. His nose wasn’t terribly broken, probably didn’t even need to be reset, but it still throbbed, adding to the general clusterfuck of pain that was his head.

“I’m not sorry about the nose. You really shouldn’t fight back against the others. They won’t be as nice as me.” The cocky bastard said, all sarcasm gone. It was impossible to forget that he was currently kidnapped, but the stupid villain was probably right. Breaking his nose and not molesting him was considered nice? These guys were fucking freaks for sure.

“You’e all gonna fucken die. I’m gonna fucken kill you.”

“Sure you are, fairy .”

Katsuki’s blood ran cold at the unfamiliar jab. What? What? What the fuck was he talking about? What did that even mean? He had no clue what it meant, but the look on his face, the knowing glint in his eyes was alarming. There was something in his face that made Katsuki very, very fucking uncomfortable. 

Burnt bastard chuckled. “See ya around, Kacchan.”

“FUCK YOU–” Katsuki couldn’t even finish his threat before the villain slammed the door shut, all sound getting whisked out of the room. While jarring, the lack of sound was better for him and his stupid head wound. He needed silence– he needed to think.

Why the fuck did he call him Kacchan? Maybe he’d heard Deku say it, and decided to tease him or something. But the other word– fairy – was weirding him out. The obvious fairy-tale related connotations made no sense, but what else could the jackass be talking about? Maybe he thinks I look like a fairy or something? 

Katuski had a feeling he shouldn’t brush it off, that it indicated something sinister, but the gray matter between his ears felt like it’d been put through a blender and was therefore useless. He closed his eyes again, the movement of his ocular muscles making everything worse. It was better with his eyes closed, but not by much. He still felt like puking. 

On reflex, he tried to calm himself, tried to create those small, controlled explosions, but of course the fucking villains had put quirk suppression cuffs on him and he was chained to a damn wall. The cold concrete on his back was scratchy, the horrific scent of new blood, old blood, and vomit were becoming overwhelming as shit, and he couldn’t move beyond a few inches. He could feel the telltale signs of rage boiling in his gut, and he was going to start beating these fucking villains up with just his toes if he had to because fuck this goddamn cell.

“LEMME OUTTTA HERE, I’LL KILL YOU FUCKS! I’LL TEAR YOUR ASSES OFF!”

Fuck. No one could hear him. He’d just wasted a perfectly good threat! These bastards had no idea what was in store for them, and even though Katsuki was furiously scared, he wouldn’t let these assholes kill him. He was just getting started at UA! There was no way he’d die now. And he hadn’t even gotten to see Deku again—

He stopped dead at the thought. 

Deku. Even though he knew he’d fucked everything up, his tired brain wanted comfort, and for once, he allowed himself to dwell on the memories. Deku’s laugh, Deku’s smile, his freckles, his stupid, sparkling eyes, the way he talked with his hands and mumbled without realizing, his lips, his extreme attention to detail, his hands, the stupid graphic t-shirts he wore, fucking everything about the nerd was endearing. His own words reverberating back into his mushy, dumb brain: “Yeah I like kissing you, but you as a person? You’re scum, Deku. ” 

Wincing, he tried to focus more on the current kidnapping rather than the way he’d fucked up. He needed to man up and apologize, and maybe Deku would forgive him and things could go back to the way they were, but maybe not. Do I want things to go back to the way they were? The hiding, sneaking around? Pretending I don’t–

“Shut the fuck up, brain.” He was being dumb, and while most of it could be attributed to his horrific brain injury focusing too much on Deku, he couldn’t deny that his normal, non-injured brain focused too much on Deku, too. 

Focus, you fucking idiot! You are currently kidnapped for fuck’s sake! And nearly naked! Speaking of which, it seems like the creepy villains had stolen his damn socks, too. Fucking pervs! Cursing, he tried to bring his legs in a little, ignoring the horrible floor scratching at his legs, but only got his left leg up to his body. The chain around his right ankle was tighter, so he could only bring it in a few inches. These fucking villains are so goddamn annoying and inconsistent. Stupid fuckers couldn’t even get the chains right!

He heard the door click, and sound assaulted his ears once again, but only for a second. The door closed behind a blond girl, a creepy smile on her face. A shiver went up his spine as the girl’s gaze pierced into him. Was this the one who took his clothes off? He fucking hoped not.

“What’re you staring at, creepy bitch? I’ll blow your face off!”

At this, the girl giggled, hiding her fanged grin behind her hand. She stepped closer, her school girl uniform crusty with dried blood and dirt. She got close to him–way too fucking close.

“Back the fuck up, bastard, or I swear I’ll fuck you up,” He wasn’t sure if he should be trying to gear up an attack. He didn’t think he could effectively throw a punch, but maybe his leg could go up high enough– 

The girl giggled again, high and whiny. She was close enough to reach out and touch him, and the fucker did, ignoring his limited movement kick to her leg, not that it did much damage anyway. He continued to kick her even as she gripped his shoulders, but she didn’t even bother to look slightly annoyed. The creepy grin just stayed stuck on her pervy face. She ignored his enraged growling.

“Sorry, Kacchan! I know you’re not really into my type, but I couldn’t help it! Your blood smells so tasty! Bad Dabi! I can’t believe he got to break your nose,” She licked her lips, then swiped a finger through the blood that had dripped down his chest, pouting a little. Katsuki snarled at her again, but didn’t move to bite her damn finger off like he wanted to. He couldn’t risk agitating his head wound, and moving too much could make him disoriented. This villain asshole could do whatever she wanted to him if he was too busy seeing stars and throwing up, just like the scar face villain did earlier. His heart was beating so fast he was sure she probably felt it, but he didn’t care. Her fingers felt awful, cold and dry, and her nails scratched his skin, digging in and leaving behind 3 long gashes, and he wanted to fucking kill her. He was going to kill this bitch for violating him, acting like she owned him.

“FUCK YOU, CREEPY BITCH!” Her claws dug in, causing more blood to add to his already bloody chest but he didn’t care, didn’t even flinch because he was seriously pissed. How dare this random villain touch him, feel him up like a piece of meat, mark him like a damn dog?

“Hehe, Kacchan’s so feisty! I told you, silly! I’m not gonna take anything, I promise! Everyone knows you’re, hehe, ya know. ” Again, the weird implications. Her and the scarred asshole both saying something without actually saying it, implying something about him. He didn’t like that shit, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of asking for information. Who fucking cared what these creeps thought of him? All that matters was kicking their asses and getting the fuck out of here.

The girl raised her hand to smell the blood on her fingers, her eyes rolling back a little. A pleased hum left her lips and Katsuki tried not to gag at the nasty sound. Freaky bitch was getting off on his blood! What the fuck!? His head ached with every furious throb of his heart but he couldn’t stop the rage building, even as the pain built alongside it. 

“I know, I know, I’ll leave you alone. I just couldn’t resist! Don’t worry, Ochako’s blood was much tastier than yours, anyway,” after this startling revelation, she sighed, dejected, “I wish Shigaraki had let me take her, too. Or even maybe your precious Deku ! He’s probably really tasty–” She was cut off as her head whipped back, Katsuki slamming his forehead into hers as hard as he could, head wound be damned. He paid for it– he threw up again, stomach acid dripping down his front and onto the floor, his head bursting with agony– but he didn’t give a fuck. She deserved worse for the shit she was saying about Deku. Fuck that! Deku didn’t deserve to get preyed on by some creepy piece of shit like her.

“Leave him alone you fuckin’ sick perv freak. I’ll kill you, I’ll fuckin’ kill all of you if you touch him–” His voice sounded far away, and he honestly wasn’t even sure if she was still in the room or not, but he kept talking, curse after curse leaving his mouth. This bitch would pay for that, he fucking swore it. Fuck her, stupid villian, she didn’t get to just threaten Deku like that.

After a few minutes, he was able to regain his senses. Not that he really wanted to– his ears were ringing and his vision was doubled, not to mention the persistent nausea. He saw the blond villain on the ground, still fucking giggling even as she spat out a few teeth. Good . At least he managed to hurt her, even if he probably did more damage to himself. She deserved more but he couldn’t do anything. 

The girl, still giggling like a maniac, got up, spat some globs of blood on the floor, then walked out. The door opening and closing allowed him a few painful seconds of sound, but he heard some voices. Mostly unfamiliar, but he recognized the scarred asshole’s voice. There was a small crowd, just based on the amount of noise in the room, but it was impossible to tell just how many people there were. 

Even though he shouldn’t, not only because he was in enemy territory but because his head injury was probably very serious, he let his eyes droop. He was fucking exhausted, and his head hurt and he needed sleep. Just regaining my energy, that’s all. It’ll be fine. Just preparing for the next loser villain to come in. 

He drifted off to an uneasy rest.

There was no time to flinch– he woke up with a fist buried in his gut. 

Breathless, confused, and still so fucking dizzy, he still bucked and clawed at the multiple hands on him. The cuffs from his legs were quickly unlocked, but still more hands replaced them as he started to kick. He was strong, but 5 grown adults with more muscle than brains were a bit too tough for Katsuki to handle while suffocating on his own vomit, and quirkless to boot.

“Get the chain, Twice–”

“ Trying, dumbass. Yessir!”

“Ah, be careful with his head, that looks kinda bad–”

“Grab his damn arms!”

The chains were taken off his wrists, even though the cuffs remained. Katsuki managed to shake loose the assholes from his left leg, kicking some dickhead in the chest, but another dickhead grabbed his knee and yet another one was on his ankle in no time.

“Ugh, little shit kicked me–”

“Toga, get the damn knife–”

Fuck. Katsuki was sweating, trying to will some sense into his muddled brain. He couldn’t fucking think over the pain and fear and he really needed to not get stabbed. He saw the blond, creepy villain– Toga, face half-heartedly washed, streaks of her own blood still crusted in the corners of her mouth– with a glinting dagger swinging towards him, and he shoved sideways with all his might. The three men to his right fell like bowling pins, but there were still four other villains on his other side, and even though Katsuki connected a few solid kicks and felt one of the unknown villains’ fingers crunch underneath his heel, he was subdued again.

Katsuki screamed curses, every threat he could imagine and then some, but none of them even looked him in the face, the damn cowards. They yanked him up, the abrupt change making his vision shake like a magic 8 ball. Blindly, he wiggled his arm out of their grasp and punched wildly, feeling a couple satisfying snaps and hearing a few of them recoil away screaming.

“Fuck this brat–” A whispy, hard voice said to his right, not one of the ones holding him. Glancing at the speaker, Katsuki could make out something covering the villain's face, and he only had a second to realize it was damn Hands-face before cold fingers wrapped around his bicep. First a tingling sensation then–

Pain. Pain. PAIN.

Katsuki must’ve fainted. Maybe he screamed– he wasn’t sure. He did know that he was in a chair, cuffs surrounding his ankles and wrists, bounding him to the sturdy wood. He was soaked in blood, his briefs were wet and he was honestly not sure if it was blood or piss. The pain in his head still rang but the new, horrific wound on his arm was near unbearable. His head hurt to move but he needed to see the damage. If I can just assess my injuries, take stock of myself, I can figure this shit out. It may take more effort than he thought, but he’d still win. These villains would be so fucking sorry they messed with Katsuki Bakugou.

For now though, he was trying to swallow bile at the sight of his own exposed muscle. Luckily, while it was deeper than skin, he didn’t see bone, but his entire bicep being skinless and bloody was a nauseating image, so he didn’t feel too grateful. None of the villains had even bothered to rinse him off— there was a strand of hair and some dirt crusted onto the muscle. Evil cunts. I’ll blast their fucking faces off first chance I get! 

He was in a seedy looking bar, with dim lighting and ugly decor. It stank, too– like sweat and unwashed ass mixed with copious amounts of blood. Of course a group of villains chose the nastiest bar to be their evil lair. Katsuki almost scoffed at the predictability, but his broken nose and severely fucked up brain made it hard to feel flippant. 

It didn’t seem like much time had passed since Hands face had half-disintegrated his arm. A few villains were nursing their bruised faces and broken noses with bags of ice, and a couple were getting their fingers splint. Katsuki grinned, feral and happy that he’d at least gotten a few licks in. Over 10 villains and they still couldn’t move me without getting beat on. Weak idiots.

“Up already? Wow, you’re a real trooper!” The scarred villain’s sarcastic voice nearly startled him, but Katsuki was in too much pain to move. Burnt fucker smiled at him, unsympathetic to the blood soaked teen. He brought out the isopropyl alcohol and a clean-ish looking rag.

“Let’s get you cleaned up there, sport.”

“I’ll kill you if you fuckin’ touch me with that shit, ya crispy bastard.”

Katsuki tried not to feel offended at the uproarious laughter that followed his threat. The villains seemed to think he was hilarious, like he was fucking joke. Well, Katsuki knew he’d be the one laughing when he beat their asses into the ground. Their loud, obnoxious laughter made his ears ring, and he’d gladly bring down this building for a bit of quiet. 

“CHOKE ON MY SHIT YOU SCUM!” He screamed, followed by more annoying laughter. It hurt, badly, to scream, the effort bringing even more pain to his head, but he wanted them to know how much he fucking hated them. He was going to yell at them some more, but the purple burnt asshole poured the alcohol on his arm and he had to bite his tongue so he didn’t scream out. It sizzled, eating into his muscle and sinew, probably doing jack shit to kill the bacteria. His jaw ached from clamping down, but he knew he would scream and scream and wouldn’t stop screaming if he so much as breathed right now. The burning on his arm, the constant pulsing in his head was nearly too much– for a second he was scared that he was about to pass out.

He felt the eyes of the scumbags at the bar, piercing into him like he was their own personal show. Fucking bastards were probably having a laugh at him and his agony. Well fuck them. He wouldn’t let them win. Taking a deep breath, he fought back unconsciousness. As Scar face patted his arm with the rag, Katsuki swallowed all the pain and terror he felt, then grinned like a bear. He forced a hollow laugh out of his mouth, even as the rag caught on the edge of the wound. Toga, the creepy bitch, was licking her lips, looking excited. Fucking ew. 

If these fuckers think they’re gonna break me, they’ve got another thing coming.

“Okay, feisty, got you all cleaned up. You gonna behave now?” Burnt fucker’s purple scars looked pretty gnarly up close in better lighting– wrinkled and dry, some looking ancient while others looked almost fresh. Katsuki wanted to say something about his ugly mug, but he was still suppressing shivers of pain from the open wound on his arm. He snarled, then gave the man the bird. It was a bit hard to raise his middle finger with the cuffs on his wrist, but he got it up there just enough for the bastard to see.

“Tough guy, for a fairy.”

Again, that weird fucking word. The other villains in the bar laughed uproariously at this, but Katsuki still had no idea what the fuck he was implying. Scar face grinned knowingly at him, seeing his confusion and relishing in it like a dickhead. How was he supposed to know some random villain slang? Stupid asshole didn’t realize that Katsuki wasn’t some fellow lowlife, he was a future fucking top hero. Did this dude seriously think he sat around all day studying up on villain words? Idiot. 

Shigaraki rounded the corner from behind the bar, silencing the room. He wasn’t that commanding of a presence for a boss villain– he seemed like kind of a loose cannon. Scratching at his neck and muttering threats all the time wasn’t exactly demanding of respect. Deku’s muttering is like a cute glimpse into his head, but this freak sounds like he’s trying to curse someone. Katsuki paused for a second, because why the fuck was he thinking about Deku right now, then resumed glaring at Hand fucker coming towards him.

“We’re trying to talk to you, Bakugou. You’ve made it hard, but I believe we’re all in the position to have a nice, civil conversation. Right, Dabi?” Hand-face sounded insincere as fuck, like he was inches away from snapping and disintegrating Katsuki down to his bones. Burnt fucker, ‘Dabi’, shrugged his shoulders, but upon another cold glare from Shigaraki, he mumbled out something that sounded a smidge more positive. Satisfied, Hands-face rounded on Katsuki like he was expecting him to start thanking him or some shit. He didn’t seem to appreciate the glob of teenager spit that landed on his exposed piece of cheek. The villain stopped, wiped the spit, expression bordering on homicidal at Katsuki’s pleased smirk. Hah. I’m fucking awesome at aiming. (Katsuki’s brain pulsed at the force it took to lob his spit that far, so he was taking this as a genuine win and a sign of his awesome physical prowess.)

“You’re making it very hard to want to keep you alive, you ungrateful brat,” then, seemingly randomly, he calmed down out of nowhere. His shoulders relaxed, and he held out his arms like he was going to give Katsuki a big fucking hug. “But you’ll come around. You’ll beg for forgiveness for your insolence once you hear what I have to say. I can’t wait for you to join us.”

Katsuki knew he should probably be quiet, wait for the heroes to show up. But he was scared and pissed the fuck off at these people for thinking he’d ever join their dumbass squad of losers. He’d already spat in the boss’s face, anyway.

“Yeah, sure. Just fucking kill youself first.”

Shigaraki laughed. Cackled, like Katsuki was a fucking joke. If he could move he’d blow his brains out of his goddamn skull. These villains not taking him seriously was pissing him the fuck off.

“Oh, you’ll join us. You can’t be a hero, after all.”

Katsuki knew that the villains would try and manipulate him, of course. He figured he’d been taken to either be a classic hostage victim, be tortured for information, or to be forced to join them as some ‘ha-ha we have your student, bitches, we’re the best villains’ move. Predicting something and being told ‘ you can’t be a hero’ were two very different things, though. In between the pounding in his brain, he tried to think , form a plan of some kind, but it was like wading through quicksand in a space suit. Maybe if he wasn’t concussed and experiencing blood loss, he’d just turn his brain off and wait for the heroes to arrive, but his exhausted brain couldn’t help but listen.

“Ya see, Bakugou, I was going to talk about your anger, your propensity for violence– none of that is very heroic, is it? But then–” Hand-fucker chuckled again, so fucking excited, “Then we found out what you are.”

What the fuck are these assholes going on about? First Dabi, then Toga, now fucking Shigaraki— all hinting at some secret shit about me that they know. Katsuki didn’t react to Shigaraki’s creepiness, because he couldn’t let on that he had no idea what he was talking about. His body felt like a rubber band about to snap, and he felt the tension in the room rise to boiling over. The lackey villains all had smug grins and mirth in their eyes, but worst of all was Hand-fuckers eyes peaking through the fingers on his face– knowing, intrusive. The creep took a step, then placed his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, the pinky hovering threateningly. When he tensed up, all too familiar with the pain now, finally Shigraki spoke, smug and satisfied. 

“ You’re gay.”

Katsuki couldn’t help it– he exploded into laughter. What? Like actually, what the fuck? His face hurt from the open mouth grin, Shigaraki’s hand hovered dangerously on his shoulder, but he couldn’t control the guffaws leaving his mouth. He wasn’t sure even what gay meant, but he was pretty damn sure not a single person had ever called him that. ‘Gay’ was an adult thing, a way of living or something like that, a word no one used much anymore. It felt like Shigaraki had accused him of being a workaholic or something. At the dumbass thought of Hand-fucker coldly saying ‘ workaholic’, Katsuki started another round of laughter. Despite the agonizing pain it caused him, he was literally rocking in the chair, borderline in tears, before Dabi slapped him on his bad shoulder. The shockwave to his exposed muscle caused the laugh to choke in his throat, but he was still softly giggling like a gleeful kid before he could look at Shigaraki again.

“Bakugou, you’re laughing now, but maybe you don’t understand,” He took a step back, raising his voice, “Can you name a gay man in the top 10? What about the top 50? Top 100? Anyone?” Finally shutting off his chuckles, Katsuki thought about the question. Shigaraki had a point– he couldn’t name a hero that was gay, but it wasn’t like he was interested in the personal lives of other people. Why the fuck would he care what they get up to outside of hero work?

“You seem dismissive. Have you ever heard of Lightwave?” Katsuki just stared, even though he didn’t have a clue who that was. “What about Angel Claw?” Another no. “Circuit Buster?” Nope. “Heart Shake, Dread Maker, Hover, Slither Man, Easy Win?” Again, no to all. 

Shigaraki seemed to really like waiting to get to the fucking point, so he turned to the room, pointing at some of his lackeys. “What about you all? Ever heard of them? What about you, Uemura?” A boring, bald headed man looked up. His wide eyes were entirely green, and without pupils. He seemed demure, and oddly dejected for a villain lackey.

“Yeah, boss. Ya’know I nearly got to the top 200 before they outed me.”

“Thank you, Circuit Buster, ” Shigaraki swung around, a glint in his eye. “A forgotten, thrown away hero. Why, you ask? Because he was forcibly outed by the media, and society rejected him. The commission took away his damn license, Bakugou. You really think they’d spare you ? A violent thug, pretending to be tame, exposed as gay before he even debuts– you’d be tossed out on the streets.”

Katsuki still didn’t really understand what gay meant. For all he knew, that Circuit Buster guy was just a shitty hero and failed on his own. It wasn’t Katsuki’s problem that this guy couldn’t hack it.

“Kid, you like boys. That means you’re gay.” Dabi said condescendingly, like Katsuki was some dumbass who couldn’t tell his left from his right. 

“I don’t like boys, the fuck are you talking about?” Because Katsuki was seriously confused now. They were hinting that he liked boys? First of all, no the fuck he didn’t. It wasn’t like he was drooling after Half ‘n Half or Shitty hair or, even worse, Dunce face. He wasn’t gay, so what the hell were these idiots onto?

The villains at the bar ranged from laughing at him to giving him pitying expressions. Familiar expressions– from months ago, the mess with Deku and his teachers… But that didn’t make any fucking sense. What he and Deku had was different. He wasn’t gay because of the relationship he had with Deku– that was just their thing. He was Katsuki and Deku was Deku and they’d always be together, whether it be enemies or rivals or whatever. He’d denied that for a while, resented it even, but there was nothing he could do about it. He fucking liked it like that– even if it had caused a shitton of issues. Even if Deku hated him now, at least they’d be enemies, no matter how much the thought made him ache.

Dabi rolled his eyes, then pulled out his phone. After scrolling for a second, he tapped the screen and flipped around the phone for Katsuki to watch, and he even lowered the brightness when Katsuki flinched from the pain of the light. At first, it was just a grainy video, typical shitty security camera footage, but the alleyway seemed familiar. Filled with puddles, occasional wall lamps. It wasn’t until, with a jolt, he saw himself walk by that he recalled where he’d seen it before. 

He watched. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even tear his eyes away from his own face, staring at Deku like he was the only star in the sky, then, as the horrific, violating shame rose in him, he could still only watch as they kissed. Katsuki closed his eyes when Aizawa showed up, not needing to see himself get humiliated again. Dabi took away the phone, and the villains let him stew in his shame for a minute. Not like he fucking wanted to– the thought that all of these fuckers, these pathetic fucking losers had watched him, seen him like that, intruded on his moment with Deku…

“We can release this video at any time, Bakugou. Ruin your career, make you hated, make all your friends see how disgusting you are, and even worst, see how disgusting your precious Deku is… or you can join us,” Shiragaki brought a finger up, pretending to consider something.  “Or, hey, maybe we won’t release the video. You can become a hero in the closet, never able to be yourself, always at risk of being found out, of ruining not only your life but Midoriya’s life. Isn’t that right, Dabi?” Dabi had lost his smug, mocking face. He seemed downcast, pensive.

“You know there is actually a hero in the top ten who’s gay. But he has to hide or else the hero commision would fire him. He can’t have a life beyond heroism– no friends, no lovers, no companions of any kind. And you think you can live like that, cut off everyone, go solo– but you can’t. You’ll burn out, probably kill yourself before you reach middle age,” Dabi seemed genuinely saddened by what he was saying. Like the plights of this top 10 gay hero seriously affected him. 

Katsuki was literally gagging on his fury, teeth clenched and veins bulging. So fucking what? The hero world didn’t like boys who liked boys, apparently. Fuck them. He’d become a hero anyway. He’d beat the shit out of anyone who said a word about him, because even though he wasn’t gay, he knew that stupid ass extras would see what they wanted to see. He’d do whatever the fuck he wanted, just like he always did. The plan he’d had in his head ages ago, of cutting off everyone and reaching number one hero before he graduated, taunted him. It sounded exactly like what these villains were talking about, a life of solitude– but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he was fucking terrified right now, that his heart was clenched like a fist and his throat felt like it was closing up. He didn’t fucking care that he was trembling, that maybe he felt like the world was ending a little bit, that maybe his future was seeming bleak for the first time in his life, that it was the thought of ruining Deku’s life that made him actually tempted to say yes. Deku would never forgive him if he did some stupid shit like that, hero career be damned. He would not break because he was not a fucking villain!

“Maybe you didn’t hear me earlier, you dumb fucking cunt: FUCK OFF AND DIE!!”

Despite shaking in rage and fear and horrible, horrible pain, Katsuki didn’t miss the smugness droop from Shigaraki, the murderous aura coming back in droves, and maybe he was about to be disembowled or skinned alive but he didn’t fucking care, he’d never give in to these evil motherfuckers.

Shigaraki sighed, then pointed towards Kurogiri and the marble fucker that had imprisoned him at the camp.

“He’ll come around. Eventually,” Shigaraki gave Katsuki a once over, “after we take off his hands, perhaps. No use in a hostage that could take down our hideout.”

Katsuki nearly threw up– take off his hands? He couldn’t move– he was still handcuffed to the chair, his head wound hadn’t even begun to heal, and the awful injury to his bicep was still bleeding steadily. He couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t run away– fucking think! What the fuck do I do? What should I do?

A knock at the door.

“Hello! Pizza-La, Camino store.”

Huh?

Looking around, everyone’s faces wore matching confused expressions, besides Shigaraki, who looked kinda pissed at the interruption. The lizard-looking villain headed for the door.

“SMAAAASH!”

The wall imploded. Villains flew back, some smashing into the wall, along with bits of dry wall and furniture. A bar stool slammed into Katsuki’s shin, not hard enough to break it, but he’d have a hell of a lump tomorrow. His chair was bolted to the floor, so besides the shin bruise and a bit of wind, he was a lot better off than the groaning, abused league. 

All Might and other heroes burst through the new hole in the bar– Kamui Woods, Gran Torino, Edgeshot– and took care of Dabi and a few other villains. All Katsuki could do was sit and watch, the fear draining from him in an instant. All Might is here, I’m okay, it’s all okay… 

“Medic! We need a medic!” A hoard of police officers filed in, all scrambling around like ants descending on a picnic.

“Oh, young Bakugou… you must’ve been so scared. Your injuries… I’m so sorry, my boy. You’re safe now. I am here.”

A police officer ran over and unlocked his cuffs– guess they were police issued. Katsuk ignored whatever implication that was because his brain was running on zero energy and half adrenaline-half terror. The officer also brought a black t-shirt and some loose fitting basketball shorts, which he gratefully accepted. He easily stepped through the shorts, folded them over a few times at the waist, but he didn’t even try to put on the shirt. Lifting his arm seemed like the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Katsuki stood, blessedly pantsed, stumbling towards All Might, who steadied him with his hand. He’d never seen All Might look so angry– he was staring at the gash on his forehead and the open wound that was his upper arm. And his eyes lingered on the scratch marks Toga had left on his chest. Katsuki was too exhausted to feel embarrassed, even as he noticed a weird fear in All Might’s eyes at the markings. He stepped on a small piece of glass, but it was just a drop in the sea of pain his body was in so he didn’t even flinch.

“Ha, I wasn’t scared at all,” Katsuki lied, trying to make the man feel better. He’d never been more terrified in his life. He was still shaking, trembling like a fucking baby, but he figured it was alright to be a bit vulnerable right after being kidnapped. 

 He focused on standing upright, ignoring the complaining villains and Shigaraki’s insane mutterings. I can breathe. It’s okay. He formed small explosions in his hand, stupidly elated at the simple feeling of his quirk in his palm again. The horror he’d felt at Shigaraki’s threat to take off his hands subsided– he’d like to keep those, fuck you very much.

“Is Deku okay?” He whispered. Deku’s screaming face was the last he’d seen of him. He wondered if Deku thought he was dead. He hoped not– he’d hurt him a lot in his life. Deku didn’t deserve more stress because of Katsuki. The villain’s threats played on a loop in his head, taunting him.

All Might didn’t hear him– too focused on Shigaraki, asking him questions that the villain didn’t answer. All Might pulled Katsuki closer as Hand-face started screaming the usual ‘this isn’t fair, I hate you’ villain dredge. 

Sore loser much? Katsuki nearly chuckled, but he felt like he was going to throw up. Maybe he was? But it felt wrong, unlike anything he’d felt before.

“What the fuck –”

Katsuki was choking. Black sludge was sliding out of his mouth, enveloping him, he couldn’t fucking breathe – All Might reached for him, shock on his face– but Katsuki was gone. He felt like he was in a trash bag full of the sludge villain, he was being squeezed through space, and he still couldn’t fucking inhale–

Suddenly, he was on his knees in a clearing, the black sludge slowly clearing from his airways. His head pounded, his arm dripped blood onto the ground, and he could barely breathe. Not again, not again, fuck this sludge shit… He hacked a glob out of his mouth, disgusted. The glass dug into his foot as he tried to find purchase on the ground.

“Well, aren’t you a sight. My apologies, Bakugou.”

Katsuki froze like an animal in a predator’s gaze. Cold and ancient– this man was different from the inexperienced losers in the bar. 

Speaking of which, said losers appeared in splashes of the same black sludge, coughing and gagging. Fuck, they got away! 

“You’ve failed me, Tomura,” the man, his face covered in a strange contraption, stepped towards Shigaraki. “But don’t be discouraged– you’ll try again. That’s why I brought back your associates. And as for Bakugou– he’s important to your plans, so you need to treat him with a gentler hand. I am here to help you. All of this,” the man glanced at the other villains, his non-eyes lingering on Katsuki’s bleeding form, “is for you.”

Katsuki was shaking. He tried to swallow the nausea, the pain, the fear, but it was building inside him and he wasn’t sure he could stamp it down again. Looking around, he saw the body of Best Jeanist, possibly dead, and a few other heroes strewn about. How do I get out of here? How do I survive? That must be the fucking boss villian– the actual boss, not limp dick Shigaraki. His heart pounded in tandem with his pain, sweat building on his brow. In his mind, memories flashed– Deku cheering him on, Deku kissing him, them holding hands, them splashing each other in the ocean, Deku laughing sweetly. What do I do? Think, think FUCKING think–

The boss villain chuckled, mumbled something. 

A flash through the air, and suddenly All Might and the villain were trading blows, and a shockwave reverberating outwards from the sheer force. 

The blast flung him 20 feet, skidding like a rock, and he felt one of his fingers snap and a shard of concrete impale his calf. He screamed, fought to stay conscious, and finally landed on his stomach. Which was good when he vomited straight stomach acid immediately upon landing. Black spots filled his vision, and he felt the threat of sleep tempt him. Fuck! Stay awake, Katsuki, fucking open your eyes, damnit!!

He couldn’t pay attention to the conversation the boss villain was having with All Might. He could barely fucking breathe, let alone hear. But when he looked up, All Might had been blasted back and he was once again alone with a dozen villains.

“All Might!” His voice sounded like his damn voice box had been grated down, but he couldn’t stop the cry out for his childhood hero. Where is he? Is he dead? Did I get All Might killed?

The boss raised a hand, instructed Shiragaki to take Katsuki and leave, but Katsuki couldn’t fucking let that happen. He was finally without quirk suppression cuffs, he was out in the open with a chance to escape, and he couldn’t let it slip through his fingers. 

Katsuki took a breath. Bit his cheek so hard he had to spit out blood, then raised to his feet. All Might and the boss villain were fighting again, thank fuck he’s not dead , but the other villains were grinning at him like the dumbasses they were.

Katsuki punched his chest and roared, “FUCKING COME AT ME! DIE!”

It was six to one. He knew something was going to give and it’d most likely be him, but he’d rather fucking die before he lost again. He dodged, blasted, limped out of the way of Toga’s knife, literally tossed himself to the floor so marble-man couldn’t touch him and entrap him again. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up– the others were mostly toying with him, but he knew that they’d be trying harder and harder the longer it went on. 

His dodging was getting sloppier– Toga sliced his shoulder, he felt Twice grab his impaled calf, his grip only slipping off from the blood. He nearly went down when he was punched straight in the mouth twice in a row, his teeth rattling around his gums in a worrying way, and the snap of his head causing his stomach to heave, but he was fresh out of food and stomach acid so he just dribbled spit like an idiot. He had to clench his jaw as tightly as he could bear because he was pretty sure at least 5 of his teeth were itching to pop out of his mouth. Call him vain but that wasn’t gonna fucking happen.

In the background, All Might and the boss guy were still fighting, but All Might was distracted by Katsuki, the fear for his student blocking him from going all out. Goddamnit, Katsuki was fucking burden! He was in the damn way!

How much longer until my leg gives out? Until the pain gets to be too much? I don’t know how much more time I have…

And then, to his left, a wall exploded, followed by a huge ice mountain. Half n Half…? The villains turned, distracted. Katsuki stared as familiar, oh thank fucking god , green lightning dashed across the ice wave and into the air. His vision was heading to shit, but he could make out those shitty red spikes anywhere, as well as the lego build of Four Eyes. He watched, dumb and stunned, as they soared through the sky for a second.

Bleeding, aching, half-concious, he heard it, the best fucking sound he’d heard all day: “COME ON!” Kirishima screamed, a plea and a promise all in one. We got you. 

Hands facing the ground, sweat already dripping from effort and sheer terror, he pushed all of his fear, his anger, his hope into the palms of his hands, felt the warmth explode out and down, had to close his eyes against the nausea of the sudden, jarring ascent into the air. He raised his hand blindly, groping the sky, hoping against hope – 

A hand grasped his, nearly dropping him from the slick blood and sweat that coated his palm, but Kirishima was no weakling. Shitty hair yanked and Katsuki groaned in pain at the harsh jostling but he didn’t give a fuck when he felt the hand settle into his own sturdily. Thankfully, Katsuki’s hurt arm was tucked into his side, or else he’d probably be a smear on the concrete right now.

“Bakugou, oh my god, oh my god, fuck man you’re-you’re bleeding– ”

Katsuki was currently a stiff ragdoll. He tried not to move, or be too limp or too tense because every wrong move felt like he’d lose consciousness. And while he trusted Kirishima not to drop him, he was scared that if he fell asleep now, he wouldn’t wake up again.

“Shit– Midoriya, WATCH OUT!”

A shadow passed over them as Mount Lady halted a few straggler villains on their tail. Pretty metal of her to stop them with her face, though. 

The group landed, and it wasn’t exactly a soft one– Katsuki felt a scream tear from his mouth as his arm scraped against asphalt, then that scream lodge in his throat as he felt something give in his chest. His head was spinning, he’d fucking hit it again and subsequently lost another few braincells in the process. He could tell the injuries were catching up with him and his adrenaline was shot. The double vision was back, worse this time, and his entire brain strained against his skull, like it needed to pop out. While he’d probably be embarrassed later, right now he let himself cry a little, the cold tears on his cheeks actually feeling really nice and refreshing. That contrast, cooling tears and burning, searing pain everywhere else cracked something in him, and then he was laughing, ignoring how it caused sharp, searing pain in his chest.

He heard someone gagging, then a splash on the concrete as they vomited. Hands, gentle and shaking, wrapped around his wrists, then, even as he laughed and cried, helped him stand.

Several footsteps approached, and through his fucking insane laughter, he heard crying and gasping.

“We need a doctor–”

“ Bakugou?!”

“His-his arm, holy fucking shit!”

The person holding him up was shushing him, softly, like a mother calming a child. He leaned into them, got a whiff of sour sweat and a familiar sweetness.

“D-Deku? Tha’ you?” His horrible, dry voice silenced the others. With his jaw still clamped, his voice was even more muffled than with just the broken nose. Wet, sniffling sounds followed his question. He tried to look, but his eyes were fucking useless, and he could only see a triple green blur. His loose teeth were bleeding, and he kept awkwardly dribbling spit and blood out of the corner of his mouth. Distantly, he was aware that he probably looked like shit.

“ Yes, Kacchan. I-I’m here,” Deku’s voice was wet and thick, but it was music to his ears. He leaned into him, relishing the contact, the warmth.

“Are you ‘kay, De–” He choked, coughed, felt something wet slide out of his throat, spat it on the ground, “Deku? You al’right?” He was slurring, but he needed to get that question out. 

He felt Deku shaking next to him. “Y-Yeah, Kacchan. I’m–” He was cut off by wailing from the background, maybe Kirishima? “I’m okay. We’re safe.”

“Midoriya, what’s wrong with his eyes?” That was Kirishima, but Katsuki ignored the question. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he swung his head to look at the various shapes around him. Half n Half was there for sure, and Four Eyes, but the last shape was confusing, maybe Ponytail…?

“C’n we go h’me? I’m tir’d,” Katsuki’s brain was shutting off, and he knew he needed to stay awake, but Deku was here now. Deku wouldn’t let the villains get him again, so he could sleep now, right?

“Momo–”

“On it, Midoriya,” Ponytail (hah, he was right) said, her voice sounding thin. A few seconds passed, then he felt himself being lowered onto what felt like a hammock. It was satiny, so while the fabric didn’t feel good against his injuries, it was tolerable. 

“Just lay down, Kacchan, you’re okay, we’re-we’re all okay,” Deku was saying, and he had that panicked tone in his voice that he got all the time, but Katsuki didn’t even bother getting annoyed because Deku’s voice was better than any damn medicine.

“Iz’ku, what happ’n’d, I’m tir’d,” he slurred out. Did he repeat himself? He was pretty sure he didn’t say that earlier. It was getting harder and harder to be coherent. Why did he have to stay awake again? Why did his head hurt so much?

He jolted forwards, hissing at the friction of the hammock against one of his cuts. “My fucken head hurts! I ‘ave a, uh, um, uhhh–”

“Concussion?” Icy Hot chimed in. He, too, sounded just as strange and choked as the others. 

“Yeah. I can’t go, um, to sleep,” Fucking shit, he said that already. “Fuck! I’m dyin’, I think.”

He heard Four Eyes start to sob.

“No! Kacchan , no. You’re fine, it’s just a small concussion, no n-need to be afraid,” Deku seemed more and more weepy. 

They were taking him in the hammock somewhere. He checked multiple times to make sure that they were his friends and not the villains, but Kirishima kept crying over his shoulder and Four Eyes kept giving increasingly weepy directions to whoever was carrying the hammock. Only the losers he knew would be crying while hauling him around, so he was reassured that at least he wasn’t being kidnapped again. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help it, and he started crying again quite a few times. While they were pretty gentle, the hammock still jostled his head and arm a few times, and the injuries were screaming for attention, which in turn caused him to scream out in pain. 

He asked them where they were going, probably more than a few times, but he’d forget the moment they told him so it was better to just stay quiet. Every once in a while, he’d have to remind them that hey fuckfaces, I’m dying, I can’t go to sleep! But they didn’t seem to get the damn memo because he was definitely drifting off.

“Deku? Are you th’re?”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m right here, Kacchan, remember?” Why did he sound scared now? Wasn’t he just crying?

“I’m dyin’, Deku. It hurts. ”

“You’re not dying, Kacchan, and I’m so, so sorry that it hurts. We’re almost there, okay? Only a few more minutes.”

“Midoriya, I don’t know if it’ll help, but I made a dry-ice pack. Is his fever rising?”

Fever? He had a fever? Then why was he so cold?

“Kacchan, can you open your mouth?” He did so, even though he didn’t like the metal thing placed under his tongue, nor the way his teeth seemed to be barely clinging to the gum. Had he had his temperature taken before? He didn’t remember. His teeth wiggled around painfully, but he couldn’t distinguish between jaw/tooth pain and head/brain pain, so it just made him shed a few more tears at the clusterfuck of agony that was above his shoulders.

They exchanged scared, flurried words, but Katsuki didn’t care whatever the fuck they were talking about. Probably nerd shit anyway. He wished his eyes were working– all he wanted to do was look at Deku’s freckles again. He’d probably feel a lot better if he could see his stupid sparkling eyes, too.

“Deku,” he whispered, like a secret, “c’me ‘ere, I need to–” Deku leaned in before he could finish. Katsuki could kind of see the nerd’s face from this close, though it was still pretty blurry. He looked kind of different though…

“Di’ you grow a beard?” 

Deku released a startled chuckle, self-consciously bringing his hand up to take off the fake facial hair.  

“It was a disguise, Kacchan. We hatched this crazy plan to help with the rescue, and–” Deku cut himself off, chin wobbling. “I’m so glad we were here, Kacchan. You–” Again, he couldn’t finish his sentence. Which sucked, because Katsuki really wanted him to keep talking.

“They chain’d me t’ a wall. Fuck’n lame,” Katsuki said, then immediately regretted it when Deku’s face fell even more, and he felt tears dripping onto his chest. 

“Oh, Kacchan. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry–”

Katsuki raised his hand, wanting to wipe his tears or cup his face or something, but Deku stood up and covered his face. Loud sobs filled the air. Katsuki fumbled for him, trying to pull him back down, because Katsuki was fucking dying and he needed Deku here, he needed to say sorry and he wanted to say everything else bottled inside him before it was too late. He needed to warn him about the villain’s video, and how Katsuki had ruined his life.

Four Eyes opened a door and Katsuki’s eyes were assaulted with horrible, sterile light. He slammed his eyes, whimpering at the renewed stabbing pain, and even more at the cacophony of noise as doctors and nurses rushed to put him on a gurney. Deku? Where’s Deku? He can’t leave, the villains–

Katsuki screamed the second someone placed a hand on him. These were the fucking villains, weren’t they? They had come back to kidnap him again. He swiped weakly, ashamed that he was sobbing in earnest now, but he couldn’t see, he couldn’t fucking see, and he heard yelling and protests from all around him. I can’t fight again, I can’t–

“DEKU, IZUKU, PLEASE–”

He heard a dull thud, then yelling and gasps, and then he felt the blessedly familiar hand in his. Deku was crying almost as hard as he was.

“I’m here, Kacchan, I’m here . I won’t leave you, I won’t leave, I promise–”

“Deku, the villains, they’re here , they’ll get me again, don’t let them, fucking kill me if they get me again–”

“ K-Kacchan!”

“I’LL KILL THEM! I’LL FUCKING KILL THEM ALL!” Katsuki wasn’t making any sense. He didn’t know where the fuck he was, who the fuck was around him, but all he knew was that Deku’s hand was in his and it was solid. Deku was real. He was here. 

Another hand grabbed his arm, the bad one, and right as he started screaming, he felt a sharp pinch in the crook of his elbow. A weird sensation, and then relief. Oh, thank fuck , the relief was intense he didn’t even stop crying. Fucking hell, he was weeping in joy . The gurney carried him away, but he refused to let go of Deku’s hand, even as he felt the medicine shutting down his consciousness.  

He felt Deku’s tears drip onto his cheeks. 

“D’n cry, D’ku,” His tongue felt like a fucking dead fish in his mouth. Stupid Deku didn’t listen and continued crying, so he squeezed the nerd's hand, felt a pleasant fluttering in his chest as Deku’s lips pressed against his knuckles.

More medicine pumped coldly into his vein and finally – he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Beep. Beeeep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.

Izuku had to stifle a strong desire to punch the heart monitor.

The cold, bleach-y scent of the hospital room, mixed with the ever-constant beep and the acrid scent of his own fear had become overwhelming about 8 hours ago. Not like he could do anything about it. Not like he would, anyway– that beep meant Kacchan was alive. 

His fingers were numb– he’d been holding Kacchan’s hand for well over 12 hours. He’d only let go for about 20 minutes when they had to put some butterfly bandaids on a knife wound across his shoulder, but even then he was hovering, fingers twitching, at the blond’s side. There was a dark, sick feeling in his gut that had made a home there the second he saw Kacchan’s bloodied face, and holding his hand seemed to keep the beast quiet, for now at least.

Police had come and gone, asking questions he didn’t hear and didn’t care about. He knew that he wasn’t being fair, and his rudeness might get him in trouble, but he simply could not give a fuck. Their words floating in and out, worthless.

Every time Kacchan would whimper in his sleep, or his brows would furrow, Izuku would squeeze his hand, lightly pat his shoulder, and press a kiss into his fingers. His stomach rumbled, his back ached from the cheap hospital chair, but he sat as still as he could. At one point, his eyes dried out from how hard he was staring at Kacchan, his next blinks feely particularly crunchy.

Occasionally, he’d dig his nails into his own leg, letting blood well up and drip down to his knee. His mouth was full of saliva and frothy blood from chewing his inner cheek, and he wasn’t positive, but he might’ve chipped a tooth from clenching his jaw so hard. 

He deserved it– the pain. Kacchan had almost died , and Izuku had spent the last week being petty and delusional, with a childish plan half-baked in his head running him away from Kacchan. Izuku’s feelings didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. All of this was his fault, and he deserved all of Kacchan’s pain. The fraction of it that he was inflicting on himself was nothing in comparison. 

The moment when they rescued Kacchan kept replaying in his mind, over and over again: 

Launching into the air, Izuku had to ignore his screams. 

Kacchan had been screaming– he’d heard his explosions, heard his labored breaths even from 20 feet away, and it took everything within him, as well as Iida literally holding him back, to not rush in and potentially get everyone killed in an effort to rescue him. So, he ignored them, even as sobs pushed forwards and he spat out his plan to others between stuttering inhales. The fear on their faces matched his own, because they had no idea what was wrong with their classmate but it sounded really, really bad.

They launched in the air, and for a few seconds, he was terrified that it wouldn’t work, that Kacchan was too injured; that they’d fail to catch him. Kirishima screamed something, and then an explosion– Izuku heard Iida gasp at the intense heat and light that brightened the world for a moment. They dipped as Kacchan’s weight was added to their group, and Kirshima moaned in fear.

“Oh god, oh my god, guys he’s-he’s bleeding a lot, we need a hospital, oh god–”

Izuku had to focus on landing. He couldn’t look back, check on the limp, bleeding form of Kacchan, his Kacchan. He had to make sure the villains weren’t following them, that they didn’t crash into the side of a building or fall from 100 feet in the air. But, by god did he want to look. He felt like fucking Orpheus, but he was determinded that he wouldn’t doom his love to death by looking. Kirishima was crying, shocked at the sight of Kacchan, and even when Iida yelled about a villain and Mount Lady stood up to block them from getting grabbed, he ignored everything, scanning the ground for a clear spot. Izuku lowered them down to a safe distance, but he couldn’t exactly control their descent, so they landed roughly, tumbling across the pavement. He heard a guttural cry rip from Kacchan as they bounced on the rough asphalt.

The second his feet found purchase on the ground, Izuku looked at him, eyes desperate in their search. 

And holy shit did Kacchan look dead.

He was bloody, open wounds and bruises covering his body from head to toe, and shirtless, as well as shoeless. His pants were old, baggy basketball shorts, the kind that Kacchan wouldn’t be caught dead in on a normal day (where were his clothes? Why did they take his clothes?), but that was hardly important right now. Izuku saw tears dripping down Kacchan’s face as he stared blankly at the sky– his pupils vastly different sizes, and there was a crudely sutured gash on his forehead that tore back into his hairline, about 3 inches up from his ear. Broken nose, double black eyes, and worst of all, his arm–

From behind him, Kirishima threw up, and Izuku didn’t blame him. The muscle and chunky fat was exposed on Kacchan’s bicep, with ribbony pieces of flesh on the outer corners peeling up. The USJ attack– what happened to Aizawa’s elbow– quickly connected the dots for Izuku. His calf was bleeding profusely, pieces of concrete still jammed into the bloody hole, as well as various other injuries, but it was his arm and head that were the most serious.

Iida seemed to be in shock, his chest heaving and jaw gaping. They’d all experienced pain, injuries, and terror, but it looked like Kacchan had been tortured. A first year hero student, barely past his first semester, had been tortured by villains. 

From the ground, and through his tears, Kacchan started to laugh, a horrible, choking sound. His blank eyes still staring, staring at the sky. His teeth were covered in blood. He looked terrifying.

Footsteps ran up, and if not for the gasps from Momo, he would’ve thought they were villains. Todoroki’s eyes were wide and scared, but he was the first to speak.

“We need a doctor.”

“B-Bakugou?” Momo cried out, covering her mouth.

“Bakugou, oh god, you’re arm–” Kirishima was still wiping vomit from his mouth, but he didn’t seem to bother with wiping his tears. Izuku watched all of this, feeling disoriented, floaty. No. No way the league had tortured Kacchan. Kacchan wasn’t crying and cackling on the concrete, blood already forming a puddle around him. He didn’t look dead, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

‘ Get a fucking grip, Izuku! ’ He thought, then slapped himself, as hard as he could, tasting blood and vomit that threatened to leave his throat. He took a shaky breath in, then walked towards the bleeding figure. Kacchan looked awful– his eyes were swimming around, unable to focus, and his wounds were oozing blood steadily. Izuku, as softly as he possibly could, grabbed his wrist on his good hand and helped him stand, biting his tongue as Kacchan hissed through his teeth, groaning unconsciously, laughs sputtering out even as his tears increased. Izuku was shivering, felt bile bubble up in his throat again, but swallowed down the horror. This wasn’t about him, or his feelings.  They needed to get Kacchan to a hospital. Everything would be fine if they just got him to the hospital.

The others were saying something, but Izuku couldn’t hear them. He focused on shushing Kacchan, trying to calm him, trying to do anything to offer comfort. Through, stilted, confusing conversation, his friends finally snapped into hero mode, Momo making a light satin sheet to carry Kacchan in, Todoroki, Iida, and Kirishima grabbing the corners while Izuku walked right next to the blond, who came in and out of coherency and frightening confusion. He’d start crying again, then open his eyes in terror, screaming, asking where the villains were. Sweat started dripping from his face even as his shivering increased and his lips started turning an alarming pale blue. Momo made a small thermometer, and it took both him and Momo coaxing Kacchan’s mouth open, then closed, before they could get an accurate read. His bloody teeth shifted against the metal and Momo had to pull over to breathe at the sight of his gums leaking blood.

The next 30 minutes were hell. Every heartbreaking thing out of Kacchan’s mouth made Izuku want to curl into a ball and sob until he was unconscious, but what was worse than the heartbreak was the rage. He wanted Shigaraki dead. It was impossible to stop the thought, which became stronger and stronger with every scream out of Kacchan’s mouth. If any member of the league happened to be in front of him right now, he’d literally rip out their fucking throats. If they didn’t let him in the hospital with Kacchan, he might hunt them down later anyway.

And when they finally entered the hospital, that rage transferred from the league to the doctors. He heard Kacchan break, screaming for him— not ‘Deku’, Izuku— and he fucking lost it. One of the doctors with some kind of animal quirk tried to pull him away from Kacchan and he punched him in the face. Square in the jaw– knowing that it wasn’t right, that the man’s cracking jaw wasn’t supposed to give him a sense of satisfaction, but he was trying to take his Kacchan away– 

After that was a blur. He didn’t even realize that he’d activated his quirk, the green lightning forcing the doctors to keep their distance and let him in the room. He saw Todoroki and Iida at one point, talking with irate doctors and security guards, saw Momo hand them a bag full of something, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything but Kacchan. 

Then, Aizawa arrived.

  Izuku was broken out of his reverie by his sensei’s hand on his shoulder.

“Midoriya, what did I say about biting your lip? You’re going to leave a scar. Here–” Aizawa rustled around in his pockets, bringing out a stick of mint gum, “that’ll keep you occupied.”

Izuku wordlessly took the gum, shoving the sweet mint into his mouth. It wasn’t going to work. He’d just spit it out once it lost its flavor, then go back to chewing his lip. He didn’t say that, though. The flavor of the gum wasn’t that long lasting, anyway. 

Aizawa sighed, lowering himself into the chair next to Izuku. They both just stared at the horrific vision in front of them, taking it all in, as if it wasn’t burned into their memories for the rest of their lives. Aizawa wasn’t the type to fidget, but compared to Izuku’s eerie stillness, his occasional shift seemed jittery.

Kacchan had more bandages and casts than visible skin. Literally head to toe white wrappings and casts. Glass in his foot, concrete impaled in his calf, slashes from Toga’s knife, broken fingers, broken ribs, random cuts, punctures, horrible bruises– all paled in comparison to his head. Even his arm, while no doubt scarred to hell, would heal well. As of now, they had no idea whether or not Kacchan would wake up and remember a thing. He most certainly had brain damage, based on the doctor’s initial shocked gasp at the first MRI. As far as they could tell, he had at the very least one of the worst concussions they’d ever seen, and based on Iida’s detailed accounts of nearly everything Kacchan had said and done on their trip to the hospital, the doctors were afraid that if he woke up, he wouldn’t be the same.

Brain damage. Potentially permanent brain damage.

Izuku was having trouble breathing just thinking about it. It's all my fault. If only I hadn’t been so stubborn, if only I was the one taken instead… 

Recovery Girl was their last hope, but she couldn’t begin work on his head until he woke up and recovered naturally for a week, preferably two. Kacchan’s other head injuries– broken nose and several teeth that had been knocked out but held in his gums by sheer force of Kacchan’s will– also could not be healed by the old nurse. A dentist was coming in to put braces on him, because about a dozen of his teeth had been knocked loose, and they’d already put a few butterfly bandaids on his nose. 

Izuku squeezed Kacchan’s hand again. How could he begin to forgive himself for this? Logically, he was aware that he wasn’t the one to kidnap him. Izuku had been horribly injured himself, even, from his fight in the forest, but the bigger part of his head kept replaying their last real conversation on the train. No matter what Aizawa said about Kacchan not having a right to insult Izuku, Izuku couldn’t help but feel like Kacchan should insult him. He’d take insults and hatred over the unconscious body in front of him.

Kacchan was going to wake up soon. His parents were on their way, which made him feel even worse that Kacchan’s own parents had been held up by police bureaucratic bullshit and Izuku had been able to stay here for hours without consequence– yet, at least. He was faintly aware that breaking someone’s jaw probably wouldn’t just quietly go away.

“Here–” Aizawa said, holding out something. Izuku took it without looking, but was forced to bring his attention when Aizawa cleared his throat. Izuku could afford to be a bit rude right now, but he knew he was pushing it if he continued to ignore his sensei. Examining the object, he honestly couldn’t say he knew what it was. He held it up, questioning.

“It's a fidget toy. Bakugou will need it to regain strength and motor control in his arm and hand, but I figured you could test it out for him. Make sure it’ll actually be useful.”

Izuku nodded, grasping the toy. It was a dodecagon, with various buttons, spinners, and switches on its sides. It was orange and black, with a bit of red on some buttons. 

“The support students made it. It’s blast resistant, water proof, bluetooth pairing, a few other unnecessary bells and whistles… a bit overkill but, then, so are most kids in the support department,” Aizawa muttered that last part, but seemed pleased with the effort the kids had put in on such little notice. Izuku couldn’t deny that the toy was expertly crafted, and he’d already started fidgeting with it before he could consciously decide to. Aizawa left to get Kacchan’s parents, leaving a mini bottle of water and some crackers. Izuku refused to even look at the crackers, but stuffed the water bottle into his pocket. 

He sat there, muttering to himself, one hand in Kacchan’s and the other hand frantically exploring the fidget toy, until the door swung open, slamming into the wall with its force. Izuku didn’t even flinch– no surprise who that was.

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU!” Mitsuki screamed. She looked exhausted and furious, her hair poofed out like a pissed off pomeranian. Masaru walked in behind her, his face a surprising match to his wife’s.

“MITSUKI! What did we talk about?” Izuku’s eyes were probably bulging out of his face. He’d never heard the man even slightly upset, let alone yell. It was obvious the man himself was unused to yelling, his voice already hoarse and breaking. In an instant, it was like they’d switched personalities. Mitsuki looked cowed by the yelling, her hands falling to her side.

“Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, we’re so sorry it took so long for the background check to go through, our systems are a bit overloaded right now,” said a doctor coming into the room. He was older, long salt and pepper hair pulled into a loose ponytail, his brown eyes hidden behind a pair of thick framed glasses. Izuku recognized him from their dramatic entrance into the hospital– he was one of the ones that caught the animal-hybrid man that Izuku had punched in the face.

If Izuku had his normal range of emotions, he probably would’ve leapt up and bowed to the floor in apology, but he only had access to fear for Kacchan and deep self loathing/regret right now, so he didn’t so much as wave. The doctor chose to ignore him, anyway.

Kacchan’s heart rate beeped steadily behind them, a macabre soundtrack as the doctor explained the teen’s injuries to his horrified parents. At one point, Masaru started crying– deep, chesty sobs that filled the room. Mitsuki, on the other hand, regained her fire the longer the doctor went on.

“ Permanent? He’ll be a vegetable, is that what you’re telling me?”

“No, I promise that Katsuki will wake up and he will be able to have a normal life, but as of right now, we’re not sure what the extent of the damage is. He could make a complete recovery, or he may, for example, have memory issues or develop a neurological condition.”

“What about his hero career?”

“Mrs. Bakugou, like I said, we really just have to wait and see–”

The heart monitor changed– getting a bit faster. Izuku felt Kacchan’s fingers twitching. He shot to his feet, peering into the blond's pinched face.

Mitsuki was still yelling at the doctor, and Masaru’s sobbing had increased. He looked broken, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. Their love for their son was palpable, painful even. The way that Mitsuki had somehow gotten the doctor to agree to better snacks and more overnight guest passes in the span of 3 minutes of screaming was impressive. Masaru’s emotional state over the trauma his child had been through could’ve made even the toughest observer shed a tear. Maybe other parents wouldn’t understand their reactions, but Kacchan was lucky to have such a caring family.

But Izuku had stopped paying attention to the Bakugous, because Kacchan was waking up– his eyelids lightly fluttering, his lips soundlessly parting. Izuku lightly squeezed his hand, a thrill running down his spine as Kacchan squeezed back. Finally, red eyes met his own. Kacchan’s so amazing. Only someone as strong as him could be awake right now! Izuku set aside the fidget toy, afraid he would break it with how hard he was squeezing.

“And tell me WHY THE FUCK my kid only has one, thin-ass blanket? Can we get a competent fucking doctor who gives MY CHILD more than one blanket?!” Mitsuki’s voice was reaching a never-before-seen pitch. Kacchan’s face screwed up, both in confusion and annoyance, before he opened his mouth and a garbled string of whispers came out. Izuku leaned in, trying to hear. 

“-ert to’ terpo aeap?” Kacchan said again, which wasn’t understandable at all, but his signature pissed off face made Izuku shake. He’s okay. He’s not brain dead, he’s okay!

“Mitsuki, look!” Sobbed Masaru, scrubbing tears off his face. 

Both the doctor and Mitsuki turned, then rushed over to Kacchan as he groaned. 

“Katsuki?! Can you understand me? Blink once for yes–” Mitsuki whisper-yelled, frantic. 

The doctor hit the call button, scribbling on his clipboard and checking the machines. Masaru was able to calm himself long enough to gently put a hand on Kacchan’s least injured leg, and Mitsuki, also achingly gentle, put a shaking hand on his shoulder. 

“-ahurt ame keel, ewaf ‘ku?” Kacchan said, still making no sense but at least he was awake. Kacchan scrunched his bruised face up, and while the different sized pupils and black eyes made it hard to look at him, his facial expressions were blessedly familiar. He even pouted a little, and Izuku nearly started sobbing at a half-scowl. Some part of his is still Kacchan. He’s still in there!

“Well, he certainly sounds like he’s brain damaged–”

“ Mistuki–”

“ Okay! He sounds not-good, but this is a good sign, right? He doesn’t look too confused!”

“Mrs. Bakugou, while this is a good sign, we still need to wait–”

“Doc, if you tell me we need to wait one more fucking time–”

“ MITSUKI !” She pressed her lips together at her husband’s yell, then turned to study Kacchan again. Masaru sighed. “Sorry, doctor, we’re just very tired. Thank you for all your help.”

The doctor nodded, then left to get some nurses. The Bakugous, who hadn’t seemed to really register Izuku’s presence, sat silently by Kacchan, letting the bruised teen mumble incoherently and frown at them like they were the odd ones.

Doctors came in and out, doing tests and scans and pumping Kacchan full of antibiotics and what not. Mitsuki and Masaru finally got around to greeting Izuku, but they were quickly distracted by filling out forms for Kacchan and asking a million questions.

The worst part was when the doctors needed to talk to the Bakugous, and they asked whether or not it was okay that Izuku was there. For a terrifying moment while they studied him, he was sure that he’d be asked to leave. That they’d rip his hand away from Kacchan’s and he’d never get to return. 

“No. It’s alright, he can stay.” Mistuki murmured, her face inquisitive and soft. She actually seemed to see him for the first time since arriving, not the distant hellos they’d exchanged before. Masaru, too, had something knowing written on his face, but he wasn’t the type to voice those things with company present. 

“Alright then. While there is very little evidence, and we’ll need to question him more once he becomes more coherent, we need to do a sexual assault test on him. The bruises on his wrists and ankles, plus some strange markings on his chest, worried us. Now, we won’t do the test if you ask us not to, but these things are usually time sensitive so–” Izuku couldn’t hear the rest of what the doctor said, because Mitsuki covered his ears. The expression on her face was equal parts horrified and murderous, her hands trembling but firm enough to block out the doctor’s words. Sexual assault? Kacchan could’ve been… He looked down at the blond boy, who had thankfully fallen back asleep. For the first time, Izuku registered thick, cuff-like bruises on his wrists, and deeper, more painful bruises and sores around his ankles. Like he’d struggled against them. The scratch marks on his chest he’d seen the night before stuck out in his mind. The basketball shorts, given to him by the police apparently, because he’s been in only his underwear.  

Torture. Kacchan had been tortured. And sometimes torture included–

Izuku wasn’t sure when he became aware of the world again. Based on the sticky, dry feeling of his eyeballs, he hadn’t blinked in a while. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Kacchan. Mitsuki’s hands had left his ears at one point, but he hadn’t even noticed the change in sound. All he could hear was ringing in his ears.

Izuku knew that the empty pain inside of him was worrying. Knew that he should be crying or furious, maybe even hopeful for Kacchan’s recovery. But he could only ache. He could only hurt. How could this have happened? How did Izuku let this happen? It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. Horrible images flashed through his mind of what the villains could have done to Kacchan. He’d said they chained him to a wall– did they assault him there? Did they break his fingers there? Was he crying out for help while Shigaraki disintegrated his arm? Izuku felt that horrible, subzero emptiness grow as he pictures more and more, his imagination quickly becoming his worst enemy. 

A blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders. Mitsuki and Masaru were on the opposite side of Kacchan, both asleep on each other. Izuku felt like such a piece of shit– here he was, wallowing in his own feelings, when he hadn’t even considered the feelings of Kacchan’s parents. Should he leave? The thought of letting go of Kacchan’s hand, of letting him out of his sight, made Izuku want to scream. He wasn’t sure he could do that willingly. But why was he prioritizing his emotions over the feelings of others? Even though the Bakugous had allowed him to stay in the room, that doesn’t mean he was just welcome to stay the entire time Kacchan was in the hospital. 

As if sensing Izuku’s restless thoughts, Mitsuki woke up, her head carefully removing itself from the tangled web that was her and Masaru’s bodies. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes, silently studying him. Her ruby eyes and permanent frown were so familiar it hurt.

“Izuku, I heard what you did for him, how you saved him. I know your teachers and the police are going to tell you off for it, but I just wanted to say thank you,” she didn’t break eye contact, her sincerity blatant. Izuku squirmed, uncomfortable. Did he believe what she was saying? A part of him liked to be thanked, unused to praise from anyone, let alone an adult like Mitsuki. It was the same part of himself that liked Aizawa’s apology. But the bigger part of him wanted to shake his head, refuse the thanks. His eyes drifted to the bandages around Kacchan’s chest and at his broken ribs from their harsh landing. Of course he knew that Kacchan would prefer broken ribs to being dead. That didn’t stop him from hating himself. 

“Izuku, look at me.”

He did, even though it felt like he was being strangled by her gaze.

“You deserve my thanks. You saved him,” Mitsuki’s voice was choked, her eyes watery, “You risked expulsion for my kid. God knows how much of an ass he was to you, and you still put everything you’ve worked so hard for on the line just to help him. I won’t forget that, Izuku.” Mitsuki bowed to him, and while it was a bit wonky so she didn’t disturb Masaru, it was more than he deserved. 

Delicately, Mitsuki reached her hand across Kacchan, careful not to touch his bandaged chest. Numb, Izuku grasped her palm, jolted by the same softness he felt in Kacchan’s. 

“Please, Izuku. I know that you want to stay and watch over him, but,” she chuckled wetly, “he’d be so pissed off at me if I let his ‘Deku’ keel over under my watch. Please go home. Rest, eat a full meal, take a shower, all of that. You can come back tomorrow, just please go take care of yourself.”

Izuku's chest tightened, and his heart beat a frantic tattoo inside his chest. Leave? She wanted him to leave. She’d just thanked him and even bowed, and yet she was kicking him out?

‘ … his Deku.’

His body wasn’t sure what to do. Half of him wanted to have a panic attack at the thought of going home, and sleeping without Kacchan right next to him, where he could wake up and check to make sure that he was here and he was breathing. The other half wanted to soar at the revelation that Kacchan’s mother described him as belonging to him. He was Kacchan’s Deku, simple as that. It seemed to settle somewhere in the middle where he blushed like a tomato while simultaneously chewing a hole through his cheek, swallowing blood.. 

“I-I’m scared, auntie,” he said. Her hand squeezed his, warm and soft. 

“I know, kiddo. But he’ll be okay, thanks to you. We don’t want him waking up and freaking out on you for looking like death warmed over.”

Self consciously, he pinched his ruined costume shirt. Dried blood, crusty and stiff with sweat and dirt, various tears and holes… Okay, he did look like shit.

He nodded at her, and Mitsuki’s whole body relaxed in a sigh. She squeezed his hand again, then let go. Izuku stood up, his knees shaking and black spots popping up in his vision. Damn, I’ve been sitting down for… at least 18 hours, maybe? Izuku had no idea what time it was. He wasn’t even sure what day it was. He steadied himself on the side of Kacchan’s hospital bed, giving the blond one last once over. His face was calm, not pinched in pain or scowling. Kacchan looked so peaceful. A knot came undone inside Izuku’s chest. Leaning down, he kissed the back of Kacchan’s knuckles. And he let go. And he left the hospital. Every step felt like lead, and the image of the last backward glance he’d taken of him burning itself into his retinas. He felt like his heart had been unplugged, a horrible emptiness filling the space.

He dragged himself home, not remembering most of the turns and stops he’d taken, but he was somehow at his door. 

Izuku reached for his key, realized he’d lost it somewhere. Curled up against the cold wood of his front door, and fell asleep.

In the morning, Inko would open it and scream. She’d weep over him, and he’d console her. Like a puppet, he’d shower, pick at his breakfast, take another nap, then head back to the hospital, then go back home.

The next day, the same: shower, eat a few nibbles, head to the hospital, return home.

Again: shower, take a bite of food, go to hospital, return home.

Over and over he did this. Over and over and over. 

Two weeks passed.