Work Text:
What was wrong with him?
That was the question that continuously rang through Izuku’s mind as he mindlessly stared at the cracks on his dorm room ceiling. He hadn’t been able to shake the question for months now, not since Ochako had told him that she might have feelings for him.
He thought…he thought maybe he had felt the same way for her. At least, he thought he should have. She was a good person. She was cute, bubbly. She was a good Hero and she always made him smile. He should like her back.
But he didn’t. Not then, and not now. It didn’t matter how much he tried to talk himself into it (and gods did he try to talk himself into it), he couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to see her as anything more than a friend. And that? That had Izuku’s mind grinding to a halt and then spinning at a pace so fast it made him dizzy because, if not Ochako, then who ?
Izuku knew the answer to that question. He’d known it for a long time now.
Flashes of flaxen hair and ruby eyes interrupted his view of the ceiling cracks. He thinks if Kacchan had stood in Ochako’s shoes, he would have said yes. He thinks that means there is something deeply wrong with him, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information.
After weeks of internally struggling, Izuku isn’t really sure what conclusion he’s drawn. Does he truly even see Kacchan that way? Sometimes he thinks that these thoughts are just the product of proximity. They’ve known each other since they were in diapers. Kacchan knew all of Izuku’s deepest secrets, and he knew them before anyone else. It would make sense that he feels differently about him. Kacchan was home and safety. He was all that is important in Izuku’s life.
Sometimes, he could convince himself that’s all it was. They were just close, childhood friends and nothing more. Except, every time he told himself that, his mind sought to betray him. Suddenly, he was reliving Ground Beta.
He could feel Kacchan’s warm breath through the cracks between his sweet-smelling fingers as he held him down. He could feel his own chest, rising and falling. There was a tightness there that he couldn’t fit into words. It took the air from his lungs, but he wasn’t afraid of not being able to breathe. He didn’t know what caused it. Maybe it was the look in Kacchan’s eyes while he yelled at him—so broken and lost. Izuku never wanted to see that look again. He wanted to bring Katsuki into his arms and hold him for hours.
That wouldn’t have gone over well. He knew it then and he knows it now, but that never stopped his overactive imagination from picturing it every time he thought of that night. It never stopped him on nights when he felt particularly weak and vulnerable.
The same nights he silently cried to himself, thinking back on when they rescued Kacchan from the League and wishing, for the millionth time, that it had been his hand that Katsuki had grabbed and not Kirishima’s. He cried about it like it mattered, like it made any difference. They had saved him. They had saved his life and all Izuku seemed to care about was that he didn’t get to hold Katsuki’s hand. Hell, at that time, Kacchan didn’t even tolerate Izuku. Of course he didn’t take his hand.
Unfortunately, that logic never won out on those nights.
He turned over and watched the clock on his alarm change from 5:59 to 6:00, pressing snooze as soon as the first beep sounded. His alarm hardly woke him up anymore.
His face looked hollowed out, and splashing cold water on it in an attempt to wake himself up didn’t do much to bring back any life into his pallid expression. Izuku sighed as he slipped on his worn red sneakers, hoping that his morning run would bring some color back—make him look a little less dead.
Usually, he loved his morning runs, but even that little spark of joy was overshadowed by his whirling thoughts. Kacchan used to run with him, but he stopped about a month ago, saying he preferred to jog in the evenings—he said it helped him sleep better.
Izuku thought about swapping too. He told himself it was because he couldn’t sleep, but if he looked at himself with a critical eye, he knew it was because he missed the time spent with Kacchan.
That’s why he never changed his routine. He knew, without a doubt, that it was Kacchan’s way of putting distance between them. It hurt. Their relationship was leagues beyond where it had been even a year prior, but, for some reason, Izuku still wasn’t good enough to keep on Katsuki’s schedule.
As his run came to an end, he tried to shake the thoughts from his head. He was being selfish again. He didn’t own Kacchan. He repeated that like a mantra as he made his way upstairs to his room.
He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize he’d ignored his classmates in the kitchen. But, then again, they didn’t pay him much mind either, shrugging their shoulders and going back to their own activities.
All except for one. Katsuki locked onto Izuku the second he walked through the door, immediately sensing that something was wrong. He was determined to get to the bottom of it, and, if he could, to fix whatever it was.
It bothered him that no one else seemed to notice how off his nerd was, but he figured that was because no one was as attuned to Izuku as he was. Katsuki’s world revolved around him—of course he would notice when others did not.
***
In his exhausted stupor, it took Izuku longer than he would like to admit to notice the granola bar and smoothie on his desk. Once he did, he picked them up to inspect, revealing the sticky note they had been sitting on top of.
Eat, nerd. I can’t beat your ass if you pass out in training.
It made him want to cry. He knew that the note meant exactly what it said—Kacchan just didn’t want him to fall behind. He wanted to make sure his rival could keep up with him. But…still. He couldn’t help it.
He couldn’t help the way his cheeks flushed, or the way butterflies filled his stomach, flying up into his throat and choking him, no more than he could help the tears that welled in his eyes.
Grateful tears, that Katsuki would care for his well being. Shameful tears, because he knew that wasn’t actually the case. Tears of grief, because no matter how much he wanted it to be true, Kacchan didn’t feel for Izuku the same way Deku felt for him.
Izuku would move heaven and earth for Katsuki. He would destroy anyone, including himself, just to know that Kacchan would be okay—would be happy. Katsuki would endanger himself to prove to Izuku that he was the stronger of the two. It was…different.
He wished it wasn’t. That’s what made Izuku such an awful friend. He couldn’t even sort through the things he was feeling, yet he knew the burning in his chest was nothing but selfishness. Jealousy. A feeling of possession over someone he barely deserved to be in proximity to.
Still, as he sipped a smoothie made exactly to the specifications of his All Might Approved Meal Plan, Izuku allowed himself to daydream, just for a moment, that it was made with a feeling other than annoyance at his inability to care for himself.
Unfortunately, that daydreaming lasted most of the school day, and by the time lunch rolled around, Izuku realized he’d barely taken a single note all day. He was sure Kacchan was going to kill him for it, so he did his best to pack quickly, hoping to escape back to the dorms for lunch. His appetite was nonexistent, and the constant spinning of his mind had finally managed to physically manifest in the form of a stomach ache.
He thought he was safe, nearly past the cafeteria doors when he felt a yank on his collar halting him to a stop.
“If you think you’re skipping lunch you’re out of your fucking mind, Deku.”
Izuku fought the urge to yank himself out of Kacchan’s grip, to ignore the blonde and continue on his way to his dorm room, to take the time he needed to pull himself together and come back for the rest of the school day marginally refreshed and ready to tackle his classes.
If it were anyone else holding the collar of his uniform, he probably would have.
Instead, he placed that practiced smile on his face, and, turning to Kacchan, assured him. “I’m not Kacchan! I was just going to go in the far door so I could see what Lunch Rush made before I got in line.”
The lie was flimsy at best, but after a moment of contemplation, Katsuki seemed to let it slide, much to his relief. He let go of Izuku’s shirt and lazed into a relaxed gait beside him, effectively ruining Izuku’s backup plan, which was to escape as soon as the blonde rounded the corner back into the cafeteria. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate and made his way to the queue.
He didn’t actually look at what was made; he got the same thing every day he actually managed to eat lunch. Exactly one cup of rice, steamed veggies, grilled meat—the All Might Meal Plan Special that Lunch Rush always had on deck at the retired Pro Hero’s request.
It was bland, not super satisfying, but honestly Izuku liked that. He didn’t think he would be able to enjoy his food with the way his stomach was twisted into knots. Better to waste it on something bland than something he would have actually liked.
Izuku made his way to his usual seat at lunch, next to Todoroki, at the end of the table, across from Iida, and tuned out the world around him. Well, most of the world. As always, his unseeing gaze seemed to focus on Kacchan. Kacchan, sitting with his friends that were not Izuku. Laughing with them, though he pretended not to. Sitting far closer to Kirishima than anything Izuku could ever hope to get from him.
Seeing him so close to other people caused those nauseating butterflies to riot in his stomach once again. He pushed his food around on his plate to make it look like he was eating, nodded, and responded lightly and with a smile every time he was supposed to.
Izuku took the time to try and gather himself. It would have been easier in his room, where he would have had quiet; peace to get lost in his mind without having to be mindful of the conversation going on around him, but he made do.
By the time the lunch period ended, Izuku hadn’t actually eaten anything, but he did feel the clouds in his mind clearing just a bit. Enough that he thought he wouldn’t completely break apart during Heroics Class. Which, really, that was the best he could ask for.
Walking back to the classroom, he couldn’t help but to feel a heated gaze on his back—like he was being watched—yet, when he turned around to try and decipher who was attempting to get his attention, he only saw Kacchan, listening to Kirishima as he chatted happily. Izuku shrugged off the strange feeling, reasoning that, since Danger Sense wasn’t going off, it was probably fine.
***
Things were not fine.
Heroics consisted of quirkless sparring, which, usually, was one of Izuku’s favorite classes. He loved pairing up with Ojirou because he was so good at martial arts, and he always had something to teach him.
Except, today, they didn’t get to pick their partners. And Izuku, Izuku had the honor of being partnered with Kacchan.
Whatever luck the universe had granted him in order to gain All Might’s quirk and win the war had very clearly expired. He only became surer of his misfortune as he squared up, willing himself not to focus on the way Kacchan’s smile lines became more prominent the second that feral, yet comforting, grin graced his face.
Izuku was not successful.
Within two seconds of Aizawa declaring the match had begun, Izuku was flat on his back, Katsuki above him, red eyes glaring with a hint of concern bleeding through their depths.
“Shitty nerd, what was that?” he asked, voice exasperated.
He couldn’t help it. His mind was moving a thousand miles a minute, and Kacchan was right there , and he wouldn’t get up and he was acting like he cared and Izuku just couldn’t—he couldn’t take it anymore.
Izuku burst into tears.
At that point, multiple things happened at once. Aizawa Sensei called off the match, and Kacchan jumped back as if the tears had burned him. For his part, all Izuku could manage were warbled and spliced apologies, a thousand variations of “I’m so sorry” being repeated through sniffles and hiccups.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him, and he didn’t know what to tell Todoroki when he was suddenly by his side, asking what had happened.
He didn’t know what to tell Recovery Girl once he got into her office, and he didn’t know what to tell All Might when he showed up to check on him. Izuku didn’t know what to tell them because, frankly, he hasn’t been able to work through this himself.
He wasn’t hurt physically. He didn’t think he was hurt mentally either. Still, he felt like his skin was crawling. His chest was too tight. The air was too heavy. All he wanted to do was curl up into his bed and never leave.
Thankfully, he was able to do just that. A worried Recovery Girl eventually discharged him, since there was nothing for her to do. Izuku wasn’t injured, and it was the weekend. Weakly, eyes still leaking the occasional tear, he made his way back to the dorm, breathing a sigh of relief when the common room was empty.
He made his way up the stairs, into his room, and flopped on the bed immediately. Sleep was quick to embrace Izuku, regardless of the fact that he was on top of his blankets and hadn’t changed out of his gym uniform. He couldn’t have been more grateful for that fact, especially when the sleep was, blessedly, dreamless.
***
Saturday morning saw Izuku waking up to a clearer head. Unfortunately, in his sleep, he seemed to have finally come to a conclusion, and it was one he was absolutely terrified of.
Izuku Midoriya was gay. He was also madly in love with Katsuki Bakugo.
It was, in his mind, a worst-case scenario. He was terrified of telling anyone. How could he? How could he bring that up to All Might or his mom? His friends? What if they looked at him differently? What if he made everyone else uncomfortable in the locker rooms or the showers? What would the school do, knowing that he caused that kind of discomfort in his peers?
He couldn’t very well say “Don’t worry guys! You don’t have to worry about me looking at you because I’m madly in love with Kacchan!” That would only get him an explosion to the face and an expulsion for being a creepy stalker. Even Mineta wasn’t that bad.
But that left Izuku with so few options. If he couldn’t tell anyone without causing problems, then he would have to keep this revelation to himself. Still, that almost felt worse. A selfish part of him—the part that seemed to have the reins more and more often these days—screamed out that he would never survive if he kept on living like this. Izuku knew that voice was right.
The past few months had been hell. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, and now all of that was catching up to him in training. He couldn’t very well be the Symbol of Peace if his emotions overran him to the point of not even being able to block a single blow in a quirkless fight. He would put innocent people in danger if he even thought about entering the field in the state he was in.
During the war, Izuku was able to use his emotions. Everything he felt, he was able to channel into the fight. His tears and anger and longing propelled him into being the Symbol everyone expected him to be.
But this, this was something entirely different. Izuku couldn’t use this . He can’t channel his inner turmoil and hesitation into anything useful. He knew that, but he still couldn’t seem to figure out a way to shove it aside.
Honestly, now that he knew, without a doubt, what it is he’s been feeling all this time, pushing it into that emotional lockbox in his mind felt…wrong. Disrespectful, in some way he couldn’t explain.
Kacchan had been the driving force propelling Izuku forward for as long as he can remember, and, though he hated to admit it, it was the love he’d been denying for so long that bolstered that force, increasing its velocity to the point it was effective. Izuku was self-sacrificial to a fault, for sure, but on some level, he knew of his importance as the holder of One for All. He knew that he had to do his best to stay alive, to pass his quirk on to the next generation and keep the world safe long after he was gone.
All of that logic flew out of the window the second Kacchan was involved.
There is no limit, no line in the sand, no sacrifice Izuku would not make for Katsuki Bakugo. He knew it, and so did everyone else. Kacchan was the most important person to him, and now, he had fully realized what that meant, what it meant to love someone so wholeheartedly that the fate of the world is not a good enough reason to cause them even slight discomfort. The thought was scary.
Izuku pulled his blanket up to his chin, the tears that had dried during the night restarting anew. He was grateful that most everyone was out of the dorms this weekend, but especially Kacchan. It meant there was no one around to stop him from curling up in bed and not leaving for the next two days.
***
By three on Sunday afternoon, Izuku could no longer stand the taste of his own breath. Reluctantly, he rose from the nest of blankets and pillows that had been his home for the weekend and made his way to the bathroom. Since he was there, he figured a shower couldn’t hurt too.
As the warm water soaked his hair, he thought some more. He’d been doing a lot of thinking lately, and he’d come to yet another conclusion.
He had to tell someone.
He was scared, but the thought of getting it off his chest, of not having to shoulder this new revelation alone, was enough to make him consider risking the backlash. Even the secret of One for All was contained in a small circle. He could tell one person this. He could, and it would be okay.
As he got back to his room, throwing on the largest and comfiest clothes he could find, he stared at his phone before finally pulling up Todoroki’s contact information.
Shoto had told him the darkest secrets of his family in their first conversation with each other. Izuku figured if there was anyone that wouldn’t judge him too harshly for this, it would be him.
Hey Sho! Do you think we could talk after dinner tonight?
Izuku pressed send and fought against the urge to throw his phone against the wall. He already regretted it; he was sure it was a bad idea. He’d barely started thinking of alternative topics that would warrant that text message when he got a simple thumbs-up emoji in confirmation. There was no turning back from talking now.
Izuku jumped when there was a banging on his door, not realizing that almost everyone was back from their weekend away. A shout telling him to come downstairs for a class meeting from Iida had him reluctantly untangling himself from the blankets he’d just rewrapped himself in and walking downstairs. He was confused, sure there was nothing that warranted a class meeting going on but figured it would all be explained once he was downstairs.
He was one of the last to arrive in the common room, and his confusion only doubled when he saw Kacchan and Kirishima standing in the middle of the room. Kirishima had a comforting hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, and they were shooting each other soft smiles. It made Izuku’s stomach roll, but he did his best to ignore it.
Once everyone was settled in, a throat was cleared and Kacchan started into the speech he seemed to have prepared himself to make.
“Alright losers, listen up! I’m only saying this shit once,” he took a deep breath. Katsuki looked confident, but Izuku could tell he was nervous. His hands were shaking slightly when he shoved them into his pockets.
“Tomorrow is Pride Month, or whatever, and me ‘n Shitty Hair talked about it on our hike this weekend. Figured it was a good time to let you extras know I’m gay, so you better not annoy me this month about it, or I’ll blow your asses sky high!”
He punctuated the end of his speech with explosions, presumably to strengthen his threat. After the smoke dissipated, there was a moment of silence before a cacophonous roar of congratulations and excited squeals deafened Izuku to the world around him.
He couldn’t breathe. He could barely see through the wetness welling in his eyes, creating a blurry film over the scene of Kacchan, surrounded by their class. He was happy—they all were. No one was disgusted. No one was angry. Everyone was smiling, patting Kacchan on the back, and he was grinning back at them. He was accepted. Izuku could be accepted if he just—
No.
No. Izuku couldn’t. This was Kacchan’s moment. Kacchan was the brave one. Not him. Not Deku. He couldn’t take this moment. He shouldn’t even be intruding on it.
The tears finally started to fall, and Izuku silently backed out of the common room, soft footsteps unobtrusive as he snuck his way to his dorm. No one noticed him missing in the excitement, he was sure.
Ruby eyes, locked on his retreating back with a salty wetness of their own, would disagree.
***
Back in his room, Izuku was panicking. He couldn’t tell anyone now, not even Todoroki. If he thought people would be disgusted with him before, he was sure they would be now. If he came out like this, tonight, even Shoto would see it as him trying to steal Kacchan’s spotlight.
All anyone would see would be Izuku taking their “rivalry” to new heights, his perceived obsession with the explosive boy driving him to mold his own sexuality in order to match.
It could never be his own. He missed his opportunity, and now he would have to take it to his grave.
Besides, he knows . Izuku knows how hard it must have been for Kacchan to do that. How difficult wading through those feelings must have been. And yet, he was able to stand in front of the entire class, confident as ever, and tell them.
He hadn’t been alone though. Kacchan had Kirishima…He had spent the weekend with Kirishima…Talking about his sexuality…secluded in the mountains…He told the class with Kirishima’s hand clasped on his shoulder. He had reached for Kirishima’s hand. He laughed with Kirishima.
Oh .
Cries turned into sobs as Izuku connected the dots in his mind. For a brief moment, he’d had hope, that maybe Kacchan would return his feelings if he told him. Those were quickly dashed away. Now, he was left with the knowledge that he would have to keep everything inside, forever. No one could know he was gay. No one could know he loved Kacchan. Never.
He decided he would cry to his heart’s content tonight, then tomorrow, he would shove the entirety of the past months into that dark box and lock it away forever. He would be the Deku from before, and nothing would change, because it couldn’t. He wouldn’t let it.
***
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sobbing when there was a soft knock at his door. It was probably Todoroki, answering Izuku’s earlier text message. He didn’t want to talk anymore, and he ignored the knock, hoping he would assume Izuku was out and come back later, or not at all.
That hope was crushed when there was another knock, stronger this time. Violently, Izuku tried to wipe the tears off his face to answer the door, thinking of a way to explain his state to his friend, but stopped in his tracks once it was open.
It wasn’t Todoroki standing there. It was Kacchan, holding a bowl of food with a look on his face Izuku had never seen before. The laugh he let out was bitter.
“Damn nerd, did the news upset you that much?”
Nothing was computing in his brain. Izuku had half a mind to think that, maybe, after two days of no food or water, he was hallucinating. The only response he could formulate was a stuttered, “Wha-What?”
Instead of answering, Bakugou shoved his way into Izuku’s room, closing the door behind him and shoving the bowl into Izuku’s shell-shocked hands. At the confused look on his freckled face, Katsuki scoffed. “S’dinner, nerd. You missed it, and you look like crap. Figured it’d been a while since you ate.”
“Oh.”
“Yah, oh,” Kacchan mimicked, rolling his eyes. “So, you wanna tell me what’s got your All Might undies in a twist? What? Are you some homophobe or something?”
That had all of the synapses in Izuku’s fried brain lighting up, throwing the food down on his desk and waving his hands wildly. “What? No , absolutely not! I’m so happy for Kacchan!”
“Tch. Yah right. You look real happy, Deku.”
Izuku sighed, sitting on his bed across from where Katsuki sat on his desk chair, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie to avoid looking him in the eyes as more tears began to fall. He didn’t try to stop them anymore. It wasn’t worth the effort.
“Really, Kacchan, I’m so happy for you. That was…really brave. I wish I could be that brave,” he laughed, a despondent thing. “But I think it’s great. I know you and Kirishima-kun must be happy.”
A look of confusion flashed across Katsuki’s face before it was replaced with familiar anger. “Don’t bullshit me, Deku! If you’re so happy, why the hell did you run off to cry in your room? Hah?”
“Because I love you Kacchan!”
The second the words were out of his mouth, Izuku’s face morphed into a look of horror, and he was once again inconsolable, apologies falling from his lips faster than he could actually formulate the words, a garbled, incomprehensible mess.
Then, warm hands were on his cheeks, and he was forced to stare into the red depth that haunted his every moment. It took a moment, but eventually sound reentered his senses, and he could hear Kacchan, voice calmer and softer than he’d ever heard it before.
“There you are,” Katsuki said, the second consciousness returned to emerald eyes. He was kneeling in front of Izuku, a wobbly smile on his face and a few tear tracks of his own.
“Kacchan, I’m—”
“Izuku, I swear to God if you apologize again, I’m going to explode your All Might alarm clock.”
The threat felt empty when Katsuki’s hands were still firmly holding Izuku’s cheeks, thumbs rubbing away the tears he’d been crying for days. It only confused him more.
“But…aren’t you angry? Won’t Kirishima be angry?”
Kacchan barked out a laugh at that, questioning, “Why would Shitty Hair care? He’s probably jumping for joy right now.”
“But I thought…You both told the class together? And you spent the weekend together? I thought you…”
Izuku watched as Katsuki’s eyes widened in understanding before the blonde pulled back, confirming all the fears Izuku had in his mind. He expected him to rush out of his door, but instead Kacchan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a box.
“I’m not dating Kiri. I asked him to help me out with this. That’s why he went with me this weekend.”
He handed the box to Izuku who opened it with shaky, scarred hands. Inside lay a bracelet, woven with some kind of thick, orange and green material with a silver plate in the middle. It was engraved: Save to Win . Katsuki held up his wrist, wearing one that was almost identical, with the exception of Win to Save , adorning his plate.
Izuku watched, confused, as Kacchan’s ears turned a bright shade of red. “I love you too, nerd. Izuku. Always have, always will. Kirishima’s mom made them…we had to go pick them up this weekend so I could tell you tonight. Had a cheesy plan and everything, but you just had to steal my thunder, didn’t you?”
Instead of replying, Izuku launched himself at his Kacchan. His Kacchan.
Hugging him for dear life, joyous laughter peeling through his room like windchimes. Izuku felt lighter than he had since he was four, and as Kacchan’s gruff laughter joined his own, he knew everything would be just fine.