Work Text:
Midoriya stepped towards him as he retreated, placing his foot in between Bakugou’s.
The kiss started as something light.
Midoriya’s lips were soft and buzzing. Intimate and intense, and soft.
Then, he pushed further.
“Izu-“ he tried to say in between gasps, but was quickly smothered again. His back hit the fence, and the straps of his bag fell from his shoulder. Midoriya pulled him in again, doing something unsavory he really couldn’t think to clarify.
One of his hands interlocked with the coiled of the metal fence briefly, before it dropped to his side.
Desire churned in his stomach, making its way into his mouth. As Midoriya relaxed, as he pulled away, Bakugou caught his hair less than gently, pulling him in all over.
“Fuck.” He kissed him again, feeling Midoriya’s hands glide down and around his hips, rhythmically.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” He mumbled into his open mouth, but wasn’t willing to stop. It was selfish. This was..
Okay?
If anyone walked by, anyone at all, it would be a scandal.
Strangely, the fact enticed him.
“Kacchan..”
The fucker, he facilitated it. No way he was having second thoughts now.
Bakugou pressed pepper light kisses across his jaw, allowing him the sliver of space.
“People will see us.”
“Don’t care.” He nipped, and Midoriya’s hand bunched the shirt fabric by his waist.
“I think you will when you’re being interviewed later about it.”
He grabbed his tie in one hand, loosening it, just to tease.
“Kacchan-!“
It wasn’t busy anyway. The sun had set not too long ago, and the sky was quickly darkening above them. Chances were, only one person was watching, max.
“I can feel you grinning, stop.” He said in a way that conveyed he wanted him to keep going. Bakugou knew him like that. Knew it like he knew there wasn’t an inch of him he hadn’t explored. And sure, he should’ve been ashamed to admit that, but he couldn’t bother to be.
He nipped the area below where the collar usually sat, knowing that was free range. Midoriya was hot underneath him, and was gradually melting into his grasp.
“This is embarrassing.” He grumbled, flushed and annoyed, and his grip on Bakugou’s waist betrayed the frustrated facade he was putting up. Midoriya was a terrible liar when you knew him closely.
He pulled away, but not without biting Midoriya’s jaw a little, satisfied at the reddening of the pale skin near his collarbone.
He smiled at him smugly, just an inch taller, he had forced Midoriya onto his toes to make it all possible.
“I like your teacher outfit.” He retightened the tie, hiding everything he’d done, awfully aware of the tension between them. “It’s a bit ironic you have to enforce a PDA rule, yet have me doing this.”
Midoriya looked at him, playfully frustrated.
“What time are your meetings running till tomorrow?
“Two, but I have a patrol till twelve, 30 minutes after they end.” Bakugou was genuinely sorry. He wanted to have more free time.
“They have you working 18 hours straight?” Midoriya was still very close to his mouth. He wanted to kiss him again.
“Your hours aren’t much better.”
“Still..” Midoriya shifted, one of his thighs pressing against Bakugou’s temptingly, hands still on his waist.
They weren’t officially together, really. Bakugou deemed it totally normal to sometimes have too much to drink and get sordid in the sheets with his childhood best friend. Midoriya seemed fine with it, too. All was really really well.
Plus, the uncertainty kind of did it for him. Not necessarily forbidden, but also a secret the two of them shared.
“My apartment?” Midoriya asked, looking at him through eyelashes, like the alluring monster he was. Bakugou was flying by the seat of his pants, and thinking with what resided underneath them.
He nodded and kissed him again.
“Dynamight, is it true you and UA teacher-Pro Hero Deku are engaging in an elaborate love affair?”
“Deku has been my long-time rival and friend.” He answered cooly, putting his hands on his hips due to the fact he couldn’t cross his arms in costume. “These baseless rumors are just configurations of the sharks to try and stir up drama. I can assure everyone our relationship is nothing if not strictly platonic.”
“What about the reports and pictures of you both participating in public indecency near downtown Musutafu’s train station last Wednesday?” Another reporter shouted, shoving her mic close to him. He rolled his eyes. The crowd seemed to hush when he raised his hand, the press surprised he was actually giving an answer to that instead of starting to bite into the microphones.
“I was training halfway across Japan at the time the photos were said to be taken, and Deku has reported he was at UA. The police looking into it theorize these pictures were of look-alikes, then edited and posted in order to create a scandal. It’s a waste of my time, and a defamation of me and Deku’s character.” His voice raised towards the end, as he quickly got overstimulated by the growing flock of reporters.
“It’s upsetting how willing some lunatics are willing to go in order to embarrass or mock us. Frankly, the fact this even happened creeps me out.” He scoffed. “Now scram. I have work to do.”
“Mr Dynamight, why do you think you and Pro hero Deku have seen an increasing number of these allegations over the past three years?
“I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“Can you give us some details on how you and Midoriya grew up?”
“No. That’s personal.”
“In the battle against the villain shigaraki, footage was released-“
“I’m going to stop you right there.”
“Are you dating anyone!?”
“I haven’t got time for romance.”
“Your hero agency's stocks dropped recently, did you know this was happening?”
“I don’t know, ask my broker-“
A camera flashed, he glared, trying to blink away spots.
“Will you stop that!? My vision is-“
“When will your next line of hero merch be released?”
“Check the goddamn website, okay? I don’t fucking know.”
“Will you and shoto team up again soon?”
“I would rather di-“
“How long have you been dating Midoriya Izuku?” Someone triple his age asked in a tone he didn’t like.
“Get the fuck away from me, assholes. You’re disgusting.” He tried backing away, but they followed.
And this was the part the videos always cut to.
“Damn it! I’ll get you all arrested if you don’t leave me the fuck alone. I’m trying to work.”
He stormed away from the incessant questioning lot and into his hero agency, police finally showing and doing their fucking jobs blocking the reporters from following.
Kirishima downed a shot, Bakugou followed. He screwed up his face and hiccuped, and a drunk Kirishima found this particularly funny.
“Dude, those fucking media reports are insane. Bakubro, that fake scandal is everywhere.”
Kaminari laughed, somewhat less drunk but still stupid from it. “Oooh that’s so fucked. They edited you and Midoriya. The picture is actually so funny.”
“Wanna know a secret’..” Bakugou, having consumed more liquor than the two of them combined, looked around the otherwise empty fancy private booth in suspense.
“I lied.”
The two stared in drunk confusion for a few seconds, processing.
It clicked.
“Ooooh shitt.” Kaminari fell back into the booth, and Kirishima began laughing hysterically.
“No way.” Kirishima cried, wiping his eyes. “You actually made out with Midoriya near a public park, and weren’t expecting to get caught!?”
Bakugou shrugged. “It felt really fucking good.”
Kaminari wheezed.
“You’d expect him to be like, be shitty.” He slurred. “But he is so not shitty.”
“I knew it!” Kaminari pointed at him accusingly. “I fucking knew it since our second year. You guys were so grossly into each other, it was insane.”
“I died for him AND funded the majority of his super suit, and people still remain oblivious to it. So fucking funny.”
“Why don’t you guys just come out with the relationship?” Kirishima wondered.
“Well, we aren’t actually together.” Bakugou reasoned. “Plus the secrecy floats his boat.”
“Gross.” Kirishima jabbed him in the ribs good naturedly. Bakugou laughed, even if it wasn’t really all that funny.
Kirishima seemed to realize something.
“Wait, does this mean all the past scandals between you guys were real?”
Bakugou looked away. “Based on truth.”
“Ugh, you freaks.” He pushed a laughing Bakugou away roughly. “No shame.”
“Live a little.”
“You call being in a scandal every week living?”
“It ups my merch sales.”
“You’re attracting a wrong, wrong audience, Katsuki.”
“Aw, fuck” he groaned, and the toilet bowl mocked him with an echo. “This is below me”
“Aaand there goes all my sympathy.” Midoriya’s hand stopped on his back. Bakugou pinched his thigh. Hard.
Midoriya slapped his hand away half assed. “Jerk. Stop that.”
“You’re being mean when i'm deathly ill.”
“Didn’t know the number two hero couldn’t handle a little alcohol.”
“Half and half usurped me again!? Oh that asshole. I’ll kill him.” He held onto the edge of the seat like a lifeline, preventing his face from touching it.
“You ruined your own image. Todoroki didn’t do anything.”
“They were asking me about you.”
“I saw.”
“Fanboy.”
“I can’t help it.” He began rubbing his back again. Bakugou would’ve preened under it if he didn’t feel so sick.
“You’re very convincing.”
“I can’t believe they got a picture this time.”
“I warned you, Kacchan.”
He flipped his hand dismissively. “We both know you didn’t bother to stop it, either, shitty tie.”
“Hey!”
“Helpless.”
“Alcoholic.”
“Shaddup!”
Bakugou’s knees royally hurt as Midoriya helped him up. He took Bakugou falling onto him in stride, using his two hands to stabilize his waist.
“Mm take off your clothes.”
“No. You smell awful.” Midoriya deadpanned.
“I wanna go to bed.” He leaned further into his shoulder, just to annoy him. “Kiss me.”
“Kacchan-!”
“Stop touching me, freak. I need to shower.”
“Kacchan.” Midoriya stopped him from fumbling with his shirt buttons sneakily, breathily sighing.
“Just one kiss.”
“Kacchan.” He sounded really annoyed, now. For good reason, too. “There’s towels in the cubby under the sink.”
“I know.”
“Take a shower and brush your teeth.”
“Fine.”
“Don’t talk to me in that tone.” Midoriya seemed more aggressive than him.
“Or what?”
“You’re sleeping on the couch.” He joked.
Bakugou dizzily yanked a towel from the stack underneath the sink. “Yeah, right.”
“Don’t slip and crack your skull. I don’t want to explain this to recovery girl, or, god forbid, Eri Chan.”
Bakugou grimaced, before immediately starting to take off his shirt. Midoriya flushed, Bakugou looked at him confusingly.
“Then make sure I won’t.”
Midoriya froze from where he was retreating from the room, his entire body seemingly becoming a new shade entirely. His eyes flicked down Bakugou’s abdomen, then back to his eyes.
He looked like he was banishing a thought.
“No, Kacchan, that's wrong. You're drunk and I haven’t had a sip.”
“Who fucking cares, I didn’t say we had to..”
It was his turn to flush. He shook his head.
“I mean, if you don’t-“
Midoriya was already unbuttoning his work shirt. Bakugou cut himself off.
“But first brush your teeth.” Izuku jabbed his finger into his chest. Then, he shucked his shirt entirely too eagerly.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Midoriya washed his back softly as Bakugou held his head in his hands. Still feeling a tad bit sick as the adrenaline wore off. They both sat on a fancy ledge in the shower, the tile cold. Midoriya’s teacher-hero salary clearly paying him plenty.
Midoriya pressed soft kisses across his shoulders, shower running and falling into the drain in a steady, small stream. The sound made the experience more pleasurable.
“Hard week, huh?” Bakugou grimaced, sore, playfully rubbing his lower back to put on a show. Midoriya laughed dolefully.
“Sorry.”
Bakugou shook his head, wet hair dripping and face flushed. “Don’t be.”
Midoriya took a shower head from where it was propped on the wall, spraying warm water across his shoulder blades and neck, then re-wetting his hair. Intimately lathering shampoo into his scalp.
He leaned backwards for better access. Midoriya took this as an invitation to shift, cross-crossing his legs and setting Bakugou’s neck onto his shins.
“Great. Now I’ll smell like you.”
“Mint and cucumber isn’t that bad.”
Bakugou hummed, looking up at him. Izuku looking so focused.
“I’ll stick with my coconut and shea butter, thanks.”
Midoriya looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.
“But I guess I’ll manage.”
Midoriya turned his focus back to running his fingers across his scalp, sometimes lifting his head upwards to get the back of his head.
Somehow, despite how the both of them were stripped bare, there was nothing sexual about this scene. It was serene, and the feeling of Midoriya’s soft hands on his scalp.
“Why did you go out drinking?”
“Kirishima was in town and wanted to.” Bakugou interlocked his fingers across his chest.
“So you got blackout drunk? You remember what you did last time?”
Yeah. he became the problematic hero of the month. He still remembered lipstick smeared across his face and far too much champagne. It was the nail in the coffin that decided he really did not like girls that way.
He cringed.
“I’m still sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Kacchan.” Izuku said, like he hadn’t given him the silent treatment for a month, even after he had gotten tested.
He gently worked the shower head to prevent soap getting into his eyes, then, he moved onto a conditioner. Working it across his hair.
“Up.” He left the conditioner in to do its work. Bakugou sat up and faced him, and Midoriya re-soaped the scrubber, beginning to diligently work it across his shoulders, neck, and arms.
“How are the new years?”
Midoriya laughed, caught in a memory. The air lightened with it. “Rowdy. They remind me of our class, it’s endearing.” He moved onto his ribcage, slow and rhythmic. Bakugou looked at the short pigtails Izuku managed to get his hair into, its true length showing itself when it was stretched. “They put Kota in 1-A, as well as Eri in the 1-D class. They like to try and trick me into dropping my professionalism around the rest of the school. It doesn’t work.”
Bakugou smiled, it was sweet, Midoriya’s fondness of the two. He obviously had some sort of big-brother dynamic with them.
“How’s Kota, anyway? I know he is a huge fanboy of yours, even if he tries to hide it.” He saw Eri a month ago in passing, but hadn’t heard a word from the angsty kid.
“Still wearing that hat.” Izuku grinned. “I think it’s cute he still wears red shoes, too.”
Midoriya’s gaze softened as he worked the soap across Bakugou’s chest scar, slightly faded to time.
“This is only my second year of teaching, but I can understand why Erasure Sensei seemed so distraught with our class.” Midoriya sighed fondly.
“It’s also kind of weird having so many people look up to me. Instantly there’s all this respect, and I have to maintain it somehow.” Midoriya tutted softly, mourning lightheartedly.
“why didn’t you go into heroism full time?”
“I kind of like playing a role in raising the future hero’s. I look at them and see myself, and you, and everyone else, really.” Midoriya chuckled. “You know, there’s this one broody blond that acts like middle school you and 1B Monoma combined. The little devil.”
“Sounds like a handful.” He said dreadfully.
“I’m sure she’ll shape up nicely. She just needs someone to understand her.”
Bakugou hummed. “If anyone can do it, it’d be you Izuku.”
“You should help me teach a class sometime.” Midoriya moved onto his arms, extra gentle over the scar tissue.
“If the rat’s okay with that. I doubt we’d get permission, though.”
“He has something like a soft spot for our grad year. I’m sure we could work something out.”
“I wouldn’t call it a soft spot.”
He moved onto his legs, reapplying more soap to the scrubber.
“Well.” Midoriya tisked. “Nevertheless, the kids would love to meet the occasional top hero Dynamight.”
“Hey, if you’re gonna say it, say it right.”
“Do you regret that yet?”
“Fuck no.”
“I’ll give it five more years.” Midoriya sprayed him off, as well as the conditioner.
Bakugou frowned. “What about you?”
Midoriya looked confused, before realizing. “Oh, I already showered.”
Bakugou sighed. Subconsciously knowing this somehow, yet still being disappointed. Midoriya’s hair had been wet when he picked him up.
“What, did you want-“
Bakugou ripped open the curtain, flushed.
“Never in a million years.”
“Oh stop.” Midoriya shut the water off, hanging up the shower head, giggling.
Bakugou threw a towel at his head.
After quickly tying it around his waist, he seized Bakugou’s wrist, snatching his towel and yanking it onto his head.
“You never dry your hair. It’s gross and makes my pillows wet.”
“Hey! No! It messes up-“
Midoriya started laughing, drying his hair into an aggressive fluff-ball.
“You damn idiot!” Bakugou shouted, the heat not genuine, Midoriya wheezed as he looked over what he had done.
“It’s gonna be like that tomorrow, asshole!”
Bakugou wore his own black shirt that miraculously ended up in Midoriya’s closet, and some sweatpants with a small cute character from a children’s show he’s never watched. And, for more reasons than one, he had his own underwear drawer in Midoriya’s room, allowing him to wear a completely clean set of clothes. It became a necessity after his frequent visits that lasted well into the night. Midoriya had something similar of his own in Bakugou’s apartment.
He finger combed his hair, trying to clump it together somewhat, which helped none.
“You’re evil, Izuku.” He found himself grumbling underneath his breath, even as he was pulled by his waist to the bed.
The nerds room was still disgustingly fanboyish, but with the addition of their old classmate’s hero merch. Bakugou tried to ignore the fact that half of a wall was uninterrupted him. It was grossly bigger than the All Might section. He knew his merch was harder to come by, too. The only reason he agreed to start a line was to fund Midoriya’s suit.
“Very very evil.” He spoke into the lips of the kindest person he ever met.
“I think you look silly.”
Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.
“I wonder how your students would react to this shitty ass room.”
Midoriya glared, offended. “My indoor decor is no one’s business but mine.”
“Well, I have to look at it, and it has to look at me.” Bakugou pulled up the blankets as they settled into them, pulling Midoriya close. “I don’t want a Kirishima figure ogling at my asscheeks.”
“Shush.”
“I mean, considering how there’s so many faces in here, how do you guilt-free-“ He made an unwholesome gesture with one of his hands.
“Kacchan! Quiet!” Midoriya flushed, slapping a hand over Bakugou’s mouth.
Bakugou clapped twice, turning the lights off. When Midoriya released his lips, he hummed distastefully.
“I guess like that.”
Midoriya pinched him in the thigh hard, then snuggled into his side.
“You're insufferable when you drink.”
“I’m insufferable all the time.”
Midoriya huffed, setting his forehead on his collarbones, quick to sleep.
Bakugou dreaded the migraine he would have tomorrow and pulled Midoriya closer.