Work Text:
Bakugou Katsuki frowns at the line of cars making its way around the driveway, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Tell me again why I have to put up with this nonsense,” he grumbles to the approaching reflection of Kirishima.
“It’s the terrible price of being rich,” Kirishima says, his voice thick with amusement. “Throwing fancy parties, eating overpriced food, drinking expensive champagne, and dancing and mingling all night long. I really feel for you, Bakugou.” He holds out Katsuki’s dress shirt expectantly. When he’d been younger, Katsuki had chafed at the lifestyle he’d been born into, resented the restrictions and public eye. Now, he’s learned to navigate it, even enjoy the perks that came with having enough money for several lifetimes–though not without some complaint.
“I don’t,” Mina grumbles from where she’s sprawled on the chaise. “Why do we have to work tonight while Bakugou gets to have all the fun?”
“Want to switch places then?” Katsuki snaps.
“No,” Kirishima cuts them off. “Bakugou, you’re going to pretend to be sociable for at least two hours. Mina, go check on the security team.” His gentle yet stern tone tempers his harsh words. Mina huffs and leaves, while Katsuki resigns himself to the rest of the preparations.
His so-called friends suck.
Ten minutes later, Kirishima deems his attire complete and then holds out a small bottle of glowing blue liquid and a simple black mask with a gold patterned trim.
“What’s this?” Katsuki asks, taking the bottle and holding it up to the light. He can just barely make out the ceiling through it.
“A potion that will change your hair color for the evening,” Kirishima replies. “I didn’t think you’d want one for your eyes.”
Katsuki’s grip tightens, threatening to crack the delicate bottle. “Do I even need this?”
“Your red eyes and blond hair are distinct, Bakugou. And this is supposed to be a masquerade.”
“ This is supposed to be a masquerade ,” Katsuki mocks Kirishima with a glower. He lets out a heavy sigh and downs the potion in one. The magic tingles down to his stomach, along his spine, and then across his scalp.
When he examines his transformation in the full-length mirror, his hair is now raven black. Similar to his mask, his suit is black with gold thread stitched stylistically along the trim. He doesn’t look half-bad.
“It’s not too late,” Katsuki tries one last time. “You could still go in my place—”
“Have a good evening, Bakugou,” Kirishima says firmly, shutting him down. “Try to relax and have some fun.”
Katsuki misses the days when Kirishima would cave. The red-haired traitor shuffles him out of the room and down to the back staircase, where he can slip into the entering crowd unnoticed.
“Remember to smile!” Kirishima grins and then closes the door in Katsuki’s face before he can respond. One of these days, Katsuki’s going to hire someone that won’t force him to attend these ridiculous events. Is it not enough that he throws them?
For a half second, he considers making a run for it. But he knows Kirishima told the chefs to make those finger sandwiches and Katsuki will endure this spectacle for those alone. Grumbling under his breath, Katsuki casually slips into the crowd. He grimaces at the multitude of scents invading his home. The maids will have to use the extra-strength cleaners after tonight.
Katsuki navigates straight to the table of food. For the next hour, his scowl and steady intake of appetizers and champagne keeps everyone at a distance. He thinks he’s figured out everyone's identity. Most of them have changed up their hair and eye color, but they haven’t changed their bodies, their gait, or their speech patterns.
To his surprise, Sako Atsuhiro has made an appearance. He’d have thought they would be too busy chasing their own tails after their recent tangle with Guardian that led to an investigation into their company’s business by the authorities. Not to mention, the loss of several precious items—the hidden, illegal wealth of Sako's corporation. Jewelry pieces, paintings, and ancient artifacts.
Guardian.
A vigilante and a thief.
Katsuki’s been searching for him since he first appeared two months ago, going off the scarce eyewitness accounts, but no luck. All he has is the faint trace of a—
Scent…
His entire body stiffens. That scent. Here. Guardian is here .
Who is it?
Katsuki sets down his half-finished flute and enters the battlefield that is the dance floor. The orchestral music becomes a dull roar in his ears, everything focused on that scent. There’s no way he’d ever mistake it for anything else. Ever since he picked it up two weeks ago on the site Guardian had targeted, it’s haunted his dreams, called to him with an intensity he’s never experienced before.
He avoids the attempts to pull him into a dance. The scent grows more potent. His eyes lock on a figure in front of him, broad-shouldered, half a foot taller than him. At last. He's located the vigilante—but just before he makes contact, the scent vanishes. The man he’d been about to accost turns around.
“Er, sorry, I’ve already got a partner,” he says, glancing down at Katsuki’s out-stretched hand.
“Sorry,” Katsuki mutters as he withdraws his hand. “Thought you were someone else.” Has the vigilante slipped from his grasp? He grinds his teeth, turning on his heels, but there’s somebody directly behind him. Thanks to his quick reflexes, neither of them go sprawling.
That scent is back.
Katsuki looks at the person in his grasp, his heart pounding. Gotcha .
“Excuse me,” Guardian says as he tries to tug himself free. “I think you must have confused me for someone else—”
“No, you’re exactly who I was looking for,” Katsuki cuts him off. His scent is more powerful up close. And he still wants more. “Dance with me.”
Guardian’s lips twist, but there’s no way for him to refuse without causing a scene. “I’d love to dance,” he says stiffly, avoiding Katsuki’s eyes, and Katsuki can’t help but smirk.
A new song starts as Katsuki shifts his grip to Guardian’s hand and waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Guardian’s scent becomes more potent with every inhale. It’s intoxicating. Katsuki knows whatever’s happening is dangerous, but he can’t help but lean closer. His nose nearly touches Guardian’s neck as he breathes deeply.
Mate , his instincts scream. His teeth ache with the desire to sink into that pale, freckled neck and Claim—
A sharp static shock jolts him out of his trance. Katsuki forces himself to pull away, mind whirling with confusion. Mate? Guardian’s cheeks are bright red as he continues to avoid meeting Katsuki’s eyes.
“I don’t know who you think I am, but—” Guardian starts.
“What’s your name?” Katsuki interrupts.
Guardian stumbles over his footing, but Katsuki tightens his grip to prevent him from falling and uses the momentum to dip him.
His heart stops in his chest as their eyes finally meet.
That green shade. It couldn’t be.
“Thanks for catching me, Bakugou Katsuki,” Guardian— Deku , it’s Deku —says, the wrong name falling from his lips.
“You—” he starts, confused, angry, straightening up rigidly. “How—”
Deku twists out of his grasp. Before Katsuki can reach out, a stranger steps between them.
“OMG, Bakugou!” the stranger shrieks. “I’m so glad I found you—”
“Excuse me—” He steps around them, but another stranger blocks his path.
“Bakugou! I was hoping for a moment of your time to discuss—”
He tries to push through, but the crowd swarms around him. How the hell are they recognizing him? Even if Deku had said his name—
Oh.
The static shock. Deku must have canceled out the magic on his hair. That little shit . Of course, he has such an annoying talent.
By the time he manages to extricate himself from the crowd, barely holding himself back from exploding, Deku is nowhere to be found. Damn it . His instincts batter at his self-control and demand that he tracks the Omega down and claim him. He’s never had this much trouble being an Alpha before. Other Omegas, even in the midst of Heat, haven't affected him like Deku.
Katsuki ignores the crowd calling after him and makes a strategic retreat up the stairs to his study. Luckily Kirishima isn’t around to nag at him for leaving the party early. While he waits for his trap to spring, he reviews the case files with suspected mage involvement from the police. With that half and half bastard out of town, his workload as the city's sole remaining S-tier mage has tripled. His eyes keep getting drawn to the Guardian ones; they shine in a new light with the knowledge that Deku is the culprit.
What happened all those years ago? All Katsuki knew was seemingly overnight Midoriya Enterprises collapsed, Midoriya Hisashi committed suicide, and Auntie Inko and Deku vanished. Investigative reports concluded they died outside the city, their corpses unrecoverable. If Deku is still alive, had Auntie survived as well?
Ugh. He’ll have to let the old hag know about this. Tomorrow though.
Tonight, he wants Deku to himself.
As he thinks that, a small red light blinks to life on the underside of his desk. Intruder in the archives. Katsuki grabs his sword with a smile. Deku won’t be escaping a second time.
He strides confidently through empty corridors, Everyone’s focus is on the party, just as Deku intended.
Just as Katsuki intended.
After analyzing Guardian’s targets, Katsuki anticipated he'd eventually be one as well. The people Guardian has taken down are all stakeholders and businessmen. Corrupt ones. Katsuki can’t say that his hands are completely clean, but his company is spotless. He’s gained everything by his own merit.
Guardian wouldn't have believed that without verification, but surely Deku would. Katsuki had hoped that the alarm wouldn’t blink. Since it has… that means Deku thinks Katsuki had done something illegal. The distrust makes his heart clench painfully.
Katsuki waits until his heartbeat steadies and then kicks in the door to the archives. The bright fluorescent light stings his eyes. On the opposite end of the room, a figure straightens. A mask covers his face and scent blockers hide his scent—but Katsuki knows.
“Find anything interesting?” Katsuki drawls. His grip is loose around the hilt of his sword; that can change in an instant. “If you wanted to know something, all you had to do was ask.”
Nothing about Deku’s posture shifts, but he suddenly disappears in a blur. Katsuki raises his sword and blocks a strike. His muscles strain with the effort to push Deku back. A grin twists his lips. Deku had gotten stronger. How strong? His grin turns feral. He can’t wait to find out.
Their second dance of the evening begins.
Sparks scatter through the air as their blades collide again. Deku maneuvers Katsuki around the room with unrelenting slashes. Neither of them call on their magic.
Katsuki leaps on top of the cabinets to avoid a swipe at his legs, rolling off the other side when Deku nimbly changes direction to aim for his skull. He leans back and raises his leg, kicking out at the cabinets as Deku skirts over the top of them.
Deku loses his balance. He lands improperly and stumbles. Discarding his sword, Katsuki slips under his guard. His foot hooks around Deku’s, knocking him to the ground, and before Deku can slip away, his hands lock around Deku’s wrists. The Omega writhes beneath him, but Deku can’t gain enough leverage in time to prevent Katsuki from pinning him.
A small part of him preens at the way Deku’s eyes widen.
Now that they’re closer, both breathing heavily, Katsuki can detect Deku’s scent again. It’s almost soothing. It makes him want to lower his guard. His body automatically responds by flooding the room with pheromones inviting Deku to calm down.
Moments pass in silence. Slowly, Deku relaxes, though his eyes remain wary. Katsuki wishes he could remove the mask, but he knows the moment he loosens his grip, Deku will strike.
“I thought you were dead,” Katsuki finally says. Deku doesn’t respond. “Is Auntie still alive as well?”
“Why do you want to know?” Deku snaps. His muscles tense and he glares, but he still doesn’t try to escape.
“My best fucking friend suddenly vanished without a reason,” Katsuki snarls back, unable to stop the flash of anger. “What the hell happened, Deku?”
“We were betrayed, Kacchan ,” Deku replies. The way he says Katsuki’s nickname rankles. “Someone used my family’s company to traffic arms illegally, killed my father when he found out, and then tried to kill me and mom when we fled.”
“And you thought—” Katsuki’s mind races, trying to fill in the missing pieces, the new connection established. Guardian had been going after everyone that had acquired a part of Midoriya Enterprises. And—
“It had to be someone close to us. Someone who had something to gain with my company’s demise.” Deku’s voice turns weary. “Who was closer? Who gained the most? Prestige Holdings, your company , acquired a majority of my company’s assets.”
“Why didn’t you target me from the start?” Katsuki asks.
“Working up to the big fish,” Deku says nonchalantly, but he can’t hide the hurt in his eyes. According to him, the Bakugous had been the most likely culprit. The only reason not to target them first is because Deku hoped to find evidence exonerating them beforehand. Hope swells in Katsuki's heart.
“I—”
Deku’s eyes flicker briefly to the side. Like he’s listening to something else. Guardian has a partner? The surge of jealousy twists Katsuki's stomach with a dark heat; he's like a predator pacing in a tight cage. Deku is his, his instincts insist.
His pheromones shift from calming to inviting. He’s rewarded by the dilation of Deku’s eyes.
He’s interested back.
Katsuki’s hand moves without his conscious decision to rip the mask off of Deku’s face. His fingers drop to Deku’s cheek, brushing against the light pink dusting his cheekbones. The world suddenly spins and Deku’s above him, the situation reversed.
But Deku doesn’t move. A strange spell holds them both. Not willing to break it, Katsuki doesn’t fight back, though he’s upset he’s no longer touching Deku. He contents himself with re-mapping the freckles dotting Deku’s skin with his eyes.
When he feels Deku tense, he tenses in return, prepared to chase—
Katsuki is not prepared for lips to press against his. Just a soft brush. His lips tingle, ache for more. He’s not ashamed of the whine that spills free, especially when it brings Deku’s lips back to his. Deku isn’t teasing him this time. His lips force Katsuki’s to move in a desperate slide of heated emotions. Katsuki raises the stakes by opening his mouth, attacking with his tongue.
He loses track of time, lost in their third dance of the evening, until his lungs burn from lack of breath and he has to part, letting out a frustrated growl. Deku’s lips are swollen. He did that.
Just like that, the spell is broken.
Deku shoves Katsuki into the ground and darts away.
Katsuki’s mind struggles to shift gears. His legs are numb as he stumbles out of the archives after Deku, just in time to see his back disappear down the hallway.
No. He can’t lose Deku again.
His strength returns as he sprints down the hallway, but it’s not enough. Deku’s already disappeared into the crowd. Katsuki breathes through the tightness of his chest.
Movement at the edge of the crowd all the way across the room catches his attention. Found him. He’s moving towards the exit with an older man and a woman with long blonde hair. He mentally scans through the guest list, putting names to the figures: David and Melissa Shield, a father and daughter duo at the forefront of technological research and development.
Deku suddenly looks back. Their eyes meet. Then Deku breaks eye contact and the three of them move even faster.
Katsuki’s hands clench into frustrated fists. There’s not enough time to cross the floor and stop Deku.
Fine.
For now, he’ll accept that he’s been outplayed. Deku managed to escape him twice this evening.
There won’t be a third time.