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When you're loved, everyone can see it. Or at least, Midoriya thinks so. He feels so. Like everyone's looking at him now, and they see it on him. He wouldn't know for sure though.
He's never felt this way before.
Sometimes it made him self conscious. Like there was a big fat sign on his face in blinking, neon lights that said, "Hello!! Look at me!! Somebody loves me!!" It felt so tactless of him to be walking around like that, showing off that he was loved. Was there an off button somewhere?
But then other times, he felt...giddy. Was his skin glowing? Or maybe he was floating a couple of inches off the ground? Some days it felt like there was a warm, pink aura around him, that anyone could see if they looked at him long enough. It was hard to explain. But it made him smile. Even when he thought that people's eyes lingered on him just a bit too long, and he went to check if there was something stuck in his teeth. It was like they could all tell, just by looking at him:
Bakugou Katsuki loved him. And he was certain that it was written all over his face.
It wasn't something he'd expected to feel, when he used to imagine romance. Dating should've been amusement parks and hand holding, and crepes and ice cream, and kisses in the dark. And while it was sometimes those things, it wasn't just that. It was scrapes and bruises, bloodied mouths and bloodier words. Broken hearts, and broken rib cages; broken hands, and time that heals all wounds. It was pushing and pulling and constant, frustrating friction, followed by a deep, steadying breath of air. It was the surprising and calming realization that this is your home, so why don't you take a seat and stay for a while? I put the kettle on. There's a mug in my cabinet that's your favorite color.
Love was confusing. Love was all the wrong words and the right intentions. Love was years and years of miscommunication and sidelong glances. Love was on the other side of an impenetrable wall while you were drowning in loneliness.
Love was their happiness over yours.
"You know what I see when I see you?"
Love was baked into a blistering red stare, a fire that burned if you reached out, but wouldn't let you pull away, god dammit, let me go-
"I see a brat tripping over his untied shoelaces. Tears and snot streaming down his face with his knees all scraped up. I see a nerd that doesn't know when to stop fucking talking. I see the biggest, lamest fan boy I've ever known. I see All Might bed sheets and floppy red gym shoes that scuff when they walk, and freckles, and the widest fucking smile you could imagine. I see knees shaking and trembling, and yet always running forward, never back."
That's not true, that's not true. Bakugou idolized him, saw him as some perfect, golden standard, a pure and innocent boy wonder, a regret, a tragic symbol of his mistakes. Rivals, hero partners, equals - what could've been is always sweeter than what is. Somebody needed to point it out to him eventually, so he could move on. Of course, that duty fell to Midoriya. But what was this?
"I see that damn playground and I smell those fucking wood chips. I see bug nets and bed sheets tied around scrawny necks like capes. I see the nerd that never cared what was good for him, just for others. The guy that gave up his dream to save one fucking person. The man that still tries to help by teaching others. Still wants to be close to heroes. Cause he always has been, and always will be, the biggest fucking nerd."
What was this? What was this?
"I see the ugliest fucking knot you can imagine. I see a grown man that still trips over his damn shoelaces."
Was this…
"I see the boy that offered me his hand when I fell into a river. I see the kid that rushed to save me, when no one else would. I see why I don't gotta stand alone in order to be strong. Call it idolizing all you want, I don't give a fuck. What I know is that I'm in fucking love with you."
Love.
"Always have been, always will be."
Midoriya sobbed into his shoulder after that. Had he ever been seen before? Apparently he had. But he'd never felt like he was made of anything worth being seen. Not until that moment. Kacchan had been watching him, as he'd been watching Kacchan.
"I love you too."
It was painful. But he'd buried his love deep. He had to rip his heart open and dig with a knife to show it to the other. Yet for Bakugou Katsuki he would wear himself to the bone; he would run to the moon and back, collect all the stars in the sky, wait one thousand years in silence, and break his own back. It was his own fault he'd turned his ribs into a steel capsule and buried its beating captee miles beneath the earth; but really, it was nice being able to finally breathe again.
Funnily enough, it was Uraraka that was able to put it into words for him.
"You look happy, Deku."
She was smiling at him, and he smiled back. There was no bitterness between them. They'd tried it out, and it hadn't worked. That was all. And maybe she, of all people, would notice it the most, because of that.
"I am."
He thought for a moment, maybe that's it? The change inside of him. The air returning to his lungs and the life to his eyes. But then he shook his head. No, it wasn't that. Because he felt it, even when he was by himself. Bakugou's love lingered on him, hovering over his skin, sticky, like tack. He rubbed his shoulders and he felt it there. He rolled his neck and the weight shifted with his movement. He closed his eyes and he breathed it in. It was there, for all to see, and for him to remember, and never be lonely again.
"Hey Midoriya!" Always said with a knowing glance.
"What have you been up to lately?" And the corners of their mouths twitch up.
And it was okay, if it was true. Because secretly, Midoriya was selfish. Deep down inside, beneath the earth's crust, he liked it that they could see. That it shone from him like some sort of a golden halo. Sorry everyone, he thought, when their gazes caught on his face, and they smirked like they were slightly amused. And he just smiled wider, truer. He couldn't blame them for being distracted by the big red stamp Bakugou Katsuki had marked on his forehead:
THIS MAN IS WORTHY OF LOVE