Archive of Our Own

The conversation started after Kaminari came out as trans. She spent about five minutes stuttering and stammering about it, until finally she spit the words out. The group went silent for a moment. Katsuki remained slouched over; he got the impression he was supposed to react, but fuck if he knew how.

Ashido was the first to speak.

“You have got to come to girls’ night next week!”

“Congrats, dude!” Kirishima cheered, then immediately put his foot in his mouth—“Er, well, girl.”

The tension eased after that, but Katsuki remained as he was. He didn’t know anything about this stuff—trans stuff, girl stuff. What could he add to the conversation?

Luckily, the conversation didn’t need him, so he sat, brooding and listening while everyone started sharing their coming out stories.

“When I told my mom I was a lesbian, she was totally shocked. I was like, Mom, I told you I was in love with a girl for the first time when I was, like, seven. It was my babysitter, but still,” Jirou said.

“I had the exact opposite problem!” Kirishima laughed. “I had to argue with my moms to get them to believe I was straight. And sometimes they still make comments…”

“I’ve still not come out to my parents,” Ashido said. “They barely understand ‘bisexual,’ I am not opening up the cupioromantic can of worms.”

“How do you even realize something like that?” Sero asked. “I mean, gay and bi I get. Trans, that makes sense. But when do you know that something’s not there?”

Ashido shrugged. “I just… got done with waiting, I guess. I’m willing to change it if something comes up.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “How did you realize you were straight?”

Sero put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m a simple guy. I saw a dirty magazine at age nine, and, well, the rest is history.”

And then everyone began sharing their realization stories.

Eventually, all had shared except Katsuki. They all looked at him expectantly.

“What?” he asked.

“How’d you realize you were, uh, straight?” Kirishima asked.

“Never said I was.”

“Well, then, how’d you realize you weren’t?” Ashido asked.

“Never said I wasn’t, either,” Katsuki grunted.

“You gotta be something,” Sero said. “Bi, maybe?”

“I don’t ‘gotta be something,’” Katsuki said. “I’m me.”

“Well, who do you like?” Jirou asked.

“No one, as I’ve told you all many times.”

“Really?” Kirishima asked. “Not even Midoriya?” He waggled his eyebrows like his face was spasming.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki said, and he began to stand before Ashido laid a hand over his on the armrest. He quickly pulled it away from her, but listened as she spoke.

“Come on, if he says he doesn’t like anyone, he doesn’t. Maybe he’s aromantic, like me.”

That seemed to satisfy the group. Katsuki accepted it; he didn’t care about labels, but if it made the rest of them happy, they could say what they pleased about him.

And after that, it just… stuck.

After Icy-Hot’s big number-two celebration, Katsuki drove Kirishima to the train station to the Chiba prefecture, where he was living and working these days.

The silence was terse.

“Sorry if I, uh, made things awkward earlier,” Kirishima said. “I just—I know how you are, and Midoriya has never been the type to pick up on subtlety—”

“If you’re sorry for making it awkward earlier,” Katsuki said, voice strained in a demonstration of restraint for the ages, “then show me by not making it awkward now.”

Kirishima shut up.

“It’s fine if he doesn’t want to be my sidekick,” Katsuki said. “He’s got his teaching. It’s fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Kirishima agreed.

“Why? Is it ’cause you think teaching isn’t important? I’m sure you’ll get a shitty intern one of these days and change your tune—”

“I didn’t say anything, dude,” Kirishima said.

Katsuki, too, finally shut up.

They drove in silence for a while, and then Kirishima’s phone buzzed. He sighed and answered.

“Hey. … Again, really? … Alright, alright, I’ll head to yours once I’m off the train. But it’s too late to be walking around, so I’ve gotta stay the night. … Yeah, like you’re so beat up about it. Alright, see you soon, babe.”

After he hung up, he was all smiley. Katsuki made a point not to say anything, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Mina melted her keys in the altercation today,” Kirishima said. “It’s like the third time she’s done that. I have the spare key, so I’ve gotta head to her place instead of mine.”

Katsuki hummed.

Kirishima quieted down for the next part, just barely. “It’s going really well with us. I know I just moved back to Chiba not that long ago, but… I might talk to her and see if she wants to move into a place together. I’ll have to buy out my lease, though.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He would probably add more to the conversation, but he was tired and—he could admit privately—cranky. And Kirishima didn’t care; he was too giddy with love to notice Katsuki’s silence.

“I like her,” he said. “A lot. I think I wanna marry her.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki asked.

“Yeah,” Kirishima repeated. “I mean… I dunno. We haven’t talked too much about it. I don’t know if she even wants kids. But—maybe that wouldn’t matter to me. Not if it was her.”

He was tired, and lovesick, and dumb. Katsuki knew kids mattered to him more than any girl would. Still… if Ashido did want kids, they’d make a pretty good match.

Katsuki sighed. It felt… weird. To think about two of his friends from UA settling down, having kids.

He turned on the music.

“Oh, I love this song!” Kirishima said, and then he rolled the window down to lean out of it, singing loudly. Katsuki rolled it back up and turned on the child lock.

They were only a few minutes away from the train station, anyway. Kirishima kept mumble-humming, but Katsuki could hardly hear it.

“Oh, turn here!” Kirishima yelled, the noise shocking to Katsuki, who already knew the way. He pulled up next to the station.

Kirishima attempted to exit the car, but failed when it was locked. He looked around for a way to unlock it, failing again, and finally Katsuki took pity on him, hitting the button for him. He stumbled out of the car and then leaned over the door.

“We gotta do this again soon,” he said. “I miss you, bro. I miss all of us.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said. “Sure. We’ll see.”

“Night, bro!”

“Night,” he mumbled right before Kirishima slammed the door heavier than could ever be necessary. Katsuki had half a mind to be angry about it—in his new car—but Kirishima was just a thoughtless lovesick puppy right now. No cure for that but time.

He turned off the music as he drove away. Easier to think that way, and besides, music sounded like shit ’cause he couldn’t hear higher frequencies, anyway.

It made sense that Deku wouldn’t come to his agency. Most teachers at UA remained independent, often only holding titles at agencies if they retained financial stakes. The Dynamight Agency was doing well, but Katsuki couldn’t afford to grow it, which is the only way he’d be able to let Deku invest.

Well… If he and Katsuki were partners—if Deku had equal responsibility to grow the agency—maybe then. But he was too busy for that. Especially since Katsuki’s agency was so far away.

He might be able to relocate now that he wasn’t putting money toward Deku’s suit… Closer to UA. To their families, too.

Katsuki would have to find a new place to live. Hell, the nerd had a spare bedroom—he’d probably offer it to Katsuki. That would definitely make it possible. And then Katsuki would be able to support Deku’s daily routine, really facilitate the hero work. He probably would need to make a lot of changes if he were to get back into regular hero work—more than the few hours a week he did now. Heroes needed a high-protein diet, and Deku hadn’t maintained one since he was at UA. Katsuki could cook for him, help him bulk back up…

He sighed. Deku hadn’t even wanted to be his sidekick. He was happy as a teacher.

Katsuki knew he should just leave it be.

...still, he could move his agency closer to UA.

He did.

It was an investment, but one he could afford, and it would be good for him in the long-term. He bought an old auto repair shop that had been abandoned a couple decades before and more-or-less gutted the place, filling it with the exercise equipment that kept him in shape, the tools he used to maintain his gear, and a desk for the endless amount of bureaucratic paperwork he had to fill out. Most of the room was empty, but he knew he’d fill the space eventually—maybe with a sidekick, once he found the right person, or he could lease out space to another hero.

A small second story that used to be reserved for the non-mechanical work—the paperwork, cleaning the laundry, breaks and such—was turned into his apartment.

What had been the office became his bedroom, and with his bed tucked into a corner, there was plenty of space for a dresser, few shelves, and a chair for reading.

The break room had a kitchenette with a stove, sink, space for a mini-fridge, some cabinets, and a countertop, and though he had to put up with a toaster oven, he was looking into ripping out the stove and putting in a proper oven soon enough. With all of that infrastructure pushed into one corner and the washer that had probably been used to clean rags and uniforms in another, the space had room for a two-person kitchen table.

The bathroom was the biggest challenge—it didn’t have a shower, but there was plenty of room for one to be added since it had been made accessible. Except adding a shower meant plumbing work, and plumbing work meant permits, and permits were hell on fucking paper. Katsuki only got through it because of a very nice librarian who helped him find all of the forms he needed.

Eventually he did get a shower put in, and though it wasn’t a nice model, the infrastructure now had room to support a better shower. One day he’d gut the bathroom completely and make it work for him.

When he finally got the place up and running, Deku originally wanted to take his entire class. “It’ll be like a field trip to a real agency! It will be a field trip to a real agency!”

Katsuki didn’t want a bunch of kids crowding the space. Besides, the agency itself was still mostly empty, with his office on one end of the building and his car parked at the opposite end. Most of the area between that was empty space.

Still, as soon as Deku stepped into the agency, he was dumbstruck.

“Whoa,” he said as soon as the door opened and Katsuki flipped on the light. “There’s so much space! It’s perfect—you’ll have so much room to grow.”

Katsuki smiled and sat on the corner of his desk while Deku walked around.

“Oh—this wall would be perfect for your awards!” Katsuki’s brow furrowed, and he was about to point out that he didn’t have any awards until Deku added, “Or, you know, just big moments. You could print a picture of you fighting All For One! That would be so cool.”

“Hmm, maybe.” He wasn’t much one for that type of flaunting, but… maybe.

Deku kept looking around. He commented on everything—suggested that Katsuki should get a cot in this corner, and had he ever considered a mannequin to display his first costume? Apparently you can find used ones for pretty cheap, especially if a clothes store is shutting down—but all of the sudden, he got quiet.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Eh? I didn’t say anything.”

“No. It sounds like… a meow.”

Katsuki stood suddenly, running straight toward his car. “Fuckin’—” In an instant he was pulling the bugger off of one of his tires. “It’s a stray. Was living here when I bought the place. I keep throwing him out, but he keeps coming back.”

He held the cat by the scruff, and in an instant, Deku was pulling him away from Katsuki.

“Hey! You shouldn’t hold a cat by the scruff like that. And don’t be angry—this was his home first. Well, her home.”

Deku gently cradled the cat, who just melted into his arms like a wet rag. Katsuki rolled his eyes and walked to the back door so he could hold it open for Deku.

“Let it out,” he said. “You shouldn’t be handling it—might have rabies or mange or some shit.”

“Oh, but I’m vaccinated for rabies, and she’s so nice! She’s probably a stray. You should take her to the vet and see if she has a chip.”

“Deku, put that thing down.”

“Not until you promise to take her to the vet.”

He put on his sad eyes. Katsuki looked between him and the cat—a little wiry gray thing. It probably blended right in with this place. Katsuki sighed and closed the door.

“Fine. But don’t touch her! I’ll get… I don’t know, a cage for her. Take her to the vet later.”

“Aww, but what if she’s hungry? Who knows how long she’s been in here now that you keep the doors shut.”

Katsuki sighed. “I’m not giving the cat food.”

“Well, what if she’s thirsty?”

Katsuki sighed. Again.

“Fine. I will put out a water dish for her. But if she’s hungry, she can catch a mouse. I’ve seen a few already.”

“Hey, if she doesn’t have an owner, maybe you can keep her! She could be your agency cat. That’s a thing, right?”

“You’re thinking of a ship cat.”

“Well, this is kinda like your ship!”

“Put the cat down. I will go get a bowl.”

Deku looked forlornly at the cat, then let her down, and whispered something Katsuki couldn’t hear.

“Let’s go upstairs, where there’s no feral animals to give us disease.”

“She’s not feral, Kacchan.”

“Ain’t no fuckin’ princess, either,” he said.

“Well, you could be her new king.”

Deku followed Katsuki up the metal spiral staircase to the living area.

The space was smaller, but more full. Deku gawked at it too. He was impressed by Katsuki’s economy, his ability to be stylish in such a small space, the fortitude of the bones.

“I can’t believe you did this, Kacchan! Not only do you have your own agency—you turned an abandoned building into your headquarters!”

Katsuki shrugged. “It was mostly just cleaning.”

“You have always been so good at cleaning.”

He did let that stoke his ego a little bit.

Deku sat at the table while he got to cooking—katsudon, of course, the nerd’s favorite. They chatted idly, though mostly Katsuki listened. Deku talked about work, mostly. School work. His students and the administration and a million other things.

When Katsuki finally brought them their meals, he was impressed by how committed Deku was to speaking with his mouth full. He had to remind the nerd how fucking rude that was several times. But still, he kept trying to talk about it all. He really loved UA—more than ever, despite all the years and everything else.

“I don’t wanna talk about work,” Katsuki said. “What’s going on with you?”

“Me?” Deku asked, grains of rice falling out the corners of his mouth, where his lips met his chubby cheeks. He finished chewing before he spoke again. “Not really anything. I—You know, I’ve been focused on work.”

“Nothing else?”

“Well… Um, I went on a date with the new UA librarian.”

Katsuki went quiet, then realized how that was… weird. What reason did he have to go quiet?

“Yeah?” he asked. “What’s—What’re they like?”

“She’s really nice!” Deku said, his eyes all cheery. “This is actually her first job as a librarian—she did her bachelor’s in literature and her master’s in history. She wrote a really fascinating thesis on the role of pre-quirk literature on the post-quirk world, but using a feminist lens…”

He kept going, but Katsuki stopped listening—well, mostly he stopped being able to listen; the nerd was talking too damn fast. Still, it gave him time to collect his thoughts.

Why did he feel bothered that Deku went out on a date? Not like it was any of his business. Plus, a nerdy hero librarian—it seemed like a natural fit.

“What do you think, Kacchan?” Deku asked eventually, his voice practically leaping—both in tone and pitch.

“I, uh, thought you were focusing on UA,” he said. “I didn’t know you were dating.”

Deku shrugged, sheepish all of the sudden. “I don’t have a lot of time, but it’s easier when it’s someone at UA,” he said. “She lives in the faculty dorms too! Plus my mom’s kinda been on me recently—she wants grandkids, I guess.”

Grandkids? Katsuki tried to think of Deku with kids. Hell, they were kids. Though… Kirishima was talking about it, too.

It was easy to forget that somewhere along the way they stopped being kids themselves. Then again, with all they’d gone through, that probably happened earlier than anyone wanted to admit.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea, Kacchan?” Deku asked.

Katsuki shrugged this time. “I dunno. You shouldn’t date anyone just to please your mom. And you probably don’t want to shit where you eat. And…”

He stopped, acutely aware of how unfair the next thing he was going to say was.

“What?” Deku asked.

“Nothing.”

“Really, what?”

“’S really nothing.”

“I want to hear your opinion.”

“It’s not a good opinion.”

“Your opinion matters to me.”

Dammit. Dammit all to hell. When he made his eyes all big and round—bigger and rounder than usual, even—how was Katsuki supposed to say no?

“I figured if you had extra time, it would be for hero work,” he said. “Getting back out on the field. But, you know, what do I know about romance and family stuff? I just… forgot, I guess. That you don’t have my same priorities. It’s stupid.”

“Oh,” Deku said, and he put down his chopsticks. Katsuki shouldn’t have said anything. “I mean, it was just one date. But… Relationships take time. I don’t want to wait another five years and then rush it when I’m ready to settle down.”

So he’s not ready to settle down. Katsuki didn’t know what to do with that observation.

“Besides, I’m doing pretty well for myself in the field. I mean, I know my ranking is so high partially because of my popularity, but for a part-time hero, I’m keeping pretty good metrics. Of course, nowhere near as good as yours.”

“Yeah. No. You’re right.”

The room went silent. Katsuki took another bite; Deku picked up his chopsticks.

“Have you considered partnering with an agency?” Katsuki asked. “It might make it easier to get back on the field. You’d have to do less paperwork. Could help you make more connections.”

“I’d love to, but… Well, I don’t want to work for an agency that’s just going to use my image for profit, and smaller agencies where I have more of a say will be taking on a lot of risk and possibly incur more costs than I offset. I’ve spoken about it with my lawyer. I’m happy where I am.”

“That’s stupid.”

“What, Kacchan? I assure you my lawyer isn’t stupid—he’s from the same firm All Might used!”

“No, I mean—any agency would be lucky to have you. You shouldn’t stop yourself just ’cause you think they don’t want you.”

“I think it would be complicated.”

“Well, don’t over complicate it yourself,” he said. “Hell, you could come here. There. Simple. I won’t use your image, I don’t care about the risk—I mean, my quirk’s destructive enough, I’ve already got all the paperwork and insurance sorted, it would be easy to add you.”

“Kacchan…”

“Come on, Deku. Isn’t this what we wanted? Heroes, together?”

Deku pushed his bowl away from himself.

“This is your agency. I don’t want you to invite me even if it hurts your chance at being number one.”

“It is my agency. And since when have I cared about climbing the ranks with Icy-Hot or Moony? I wanted to be better than All Might.”

I wanted to be better than you.

Deku looked down, closed his eyes, and for a moment Katsuki was sure he’d just screwed it all up—that Deku would leave and they wouldn’t talk again. Not for a while. Eventually they’d get back to it, but… it wouldn’t be the same.

Then he stared real intently in Katsuki’s eyes, and he hated that but he knew if he wanted any chance at salvaging this he had to meet the nerd’s gaze.

“When we had that party after it was announced that Shouto was number two—was Kirishima telling the truth? Were you asking me to be your sidekick?”

Katsuki finally looked at his hands, unable to bear it anymore. “I mean… No. Yes. I don’t know. You don’t have to be my sidekick. I want you to be a hero, Deku. A real hero.”

“I am a real hero.”

“Fine. Then yes—Kirishima was telling the truth. When he said I want you at my agency. But—not as a sidekick.”

Everything went silent again.

“I have to teach,” Deku said.

“‘Have to’ my ass.”

“I want to. I like it.”

“You don’t have to choose.”

“Kacchan, you know it’ll never be like we thought it would—right?”

He swallowed and pushed his bowl to the middle of the table, too. Then he gathered them both and brought them to the sink to clean up.

“I’m not saying no!” Deku added. “I—I’m not. But… When Kirishima said you were asking me to be your sidekick, I thought… he was reading into it because of how it was before I lost One For All. And then you said that you got the message and I figured I’d sent a message I never meant to send and you never asked to get, because you’ve never told me you wanted me to come to your agency. I’ve known I wanted to teach since third year. You’ve known, too. You never said anything back then.”

“Deku, I told you that—that I wanted to compete with you. And then I spent years working on getting you that suit. What did you think after all that…?”

“That I could be on the field with you again.” Suddenly a hand was on Katsuki’s shoulder and he turned to where Deku had snuck up on him, nearly hitting his forehead on the cabinets above. “That I could help other people—quirkless people and people who don’t think they’re good enough. That I could help my students better. You never said anything about joining your agency.”

Katsuki turned back to the dishes. There were too damn few—he was too good at cleaning as he cooked.

“Well,” he said. “I’m telling you now. But—I get it. If you want to use your free time to date, or… If you just don’t want to be at the agency. ’S fine.”

“Kacchan…”

“I’ve got a meeting with a support gear agency early tomorrow morning. I need to sleep. You can… get back to me with your answer. Whenever you have it.”

Deku didn’t say anything, and Katsuki didn’t look at his face—he couldn’t bear to. He knew Deku’s answer. By letting him come when he was ready to say yes, and never forcing him to give a “no,” they could save face. Save what friendship they had left.

“Well, then… I’ll be on my way out.”

“I’ll get the door behind you.”

Katsuki followed Deku to the door then waved him off as he began the walk to the train station. On the way back up to his apartment, he tripped over something that shouldn’t have been there—and lo and behold, the cat was beneath his feet, her eyes reflecting in the dim light.

“Oh, outta the way,” he huffed. “I have enough to deal with without you.”

Still, he’d honor his promise to Deku.

Back upstairs, he didn’t wait to get started on his nighttime routine. Wash up, get ready for bed, then he’d conk the fuck out. He really did have a meeting with a support gear agency—he was number five, so even as a solo hero at his own agency, his business was big, and they were giving him a tour of the facilities—so he needed to sleep.

Usually his head would hit the pillow and he’d be out in three or four minutes.

Not tonight.

Katsuki rolled over once again for the millionth time, trying to find some comfort.

He really didn’t care if the nerd dated that librarian. She was probably perfect for him, and they’d probably make perfect babies and Auntie Inko would be happy… His mother would probably comment about it when she saw it happen. “Why aren’t you settling down and giving me grandkids?” she’d asked. He’d tell her to fuck off.

But he hated the idea of it. Settling down. They were some of the best heroes in the world. There was a reason All Might never had kids. A lot of heroes never even married, and of the ones that did—Katsuki thought about Kota and Water Hose. About Aizawa, Present Mic, and Eri.

Hero families were rarely normal, and for as much as everyone and their dog longed for something different and new in their lives, no one wanted a strange family.

If Deku joined Dynamight, they’d easily become the best agency in the world. Easily. And wasn’t that what formed the basis for their entire friendship—for their entire relationship?

If Deku said yes, one day they’d be able to afford to get out of this garage. They could erect a building taller than Might Tower and each have a penthouse suite. And if Deku wanted to bring all of his friends in, there’d be room for them in the building, too. Just to make him happy, Katsuki would deal with Cheeks and Four-Eyes every day.

Why wouldn’t he want to come to the agency?

Katsuki hated it. Hated knowing he was on the cusp of glory and there was nothing he could do to tip over the edge, not on his own.

He wanted Deku to say yes.

Two days later, that Sunday, Kirishima came down to Musutafu. He’d somehow roped Katsuki into letting him use the empty space in the garage for building—he was making a custom desk for Ashido for their anniversary.

“Okay, I figure I’ll do all the table saw cutting since there’s no risk of me getting cut—you know, with my quirk and all. You good on the screw gun?”

“Sure,” Katsuki said. “Whatever.”

They were still on their way back from hauling the lumber. Katsuki drove in silence.

Truth told, he didn’t like the idea of being around a saw, either. Though he’d gotten enough strength back in his right arm for most activities, even enough to have a lightweight version of his gauntlet, sometimes it could be unpredictable. He needed a steady hand for sawing. Yeah, it wasn’t ideal for using a screw gun, either, but the worst he could do with a screw gun was drop it on himself or tear up the wood. Kirishima knew what he was getting into.

They hauled everything in together through one of the garage doors, then Katsuki closed it back up. It was winter and they didn’t need to lose the warm air.

When he turned back to Kirishima—who was supposed to be setting up the sawhorses and table saw—he instead found a distracted fool petting a cat.

“Aww, you let him come back?” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Deku made me promise to bring her to the vet. She didn’t have a microchip, so I’m stuck taking care of her unless they find her owner.”

“So you’re gonna adopt her?”

“Didn’t say that.”

Katsuki pulled out the crate he’d bought for her and shoved her in it, then placed it in the corner.

“You know, she really shouldn’t be around all the sawdust and everything,” Kirishima said.

“She’ll be on the other side of the room.”

“Katsuki, really? Just put her up in your apartment.”

He huffed, but he knew Kirishima wouldn’t budge. So he brought the crate up to his apartment.

She’d be warmer up there, at least.

When Katsuki came down, Kirishima was setting up the saw. Not long after that, they got to work. And then, thank God, there was too much noise for any non-essential conversation.

Lunch came sooner rather than later.

Katsuki made them beef udon while Kirishima cooed at the cat through the bars on her crate. Except when he turned back, he saw that Kirishima had actually pulled the cat out altogether, stroking her in his lap while she rubbed her head against his hand.

“Get her back in the crate,” Katsuki instructed, wasting no time asking why Kirishima would do this. “Right. Now.”

“Oh, come on. She’s purring! You can’t help it—you’ve accidentally adopted a sweetheart.”

Katsuki couldn’t hear the purring.

“She’ll get fur everywhere.”

“She’s a short-haired breed and it’s winter.”

“She’ll get too comfortable.”

“Oh, please. If you promised Midoriya you’d take care of her, there’s no way you’re getting rid of her now.”

Katsuki gave up. At least Kirishima was keeping her contained on his lap. He turned back to the cooking.

When it came time to eat, Kirishima let her off his lap, and she quietly perched herself on top of the counter. Katsuki tried to shoo her off, but failed.

“You could build her some enrichment platforms on the walls,” Kirishima suggested. “I mean, if she’s usually downstairs, it probably won’t matter. But it’ll be helpful for when she’s up here. She’ll probably like being nearby while you cook.”

“Stop talking like she’s already mine.”

Kirishima only raised his eyebrows and took another bite.

“Oh! Did I tell you I asked Mina about kids and stuff?”

“Nope, you didn’t.”

“Well, we talked about it. We’ve been talking about it, really. She does want kids, but I guess she’s worried about it. I didn’t really realize how much that can fuck with a female hero’s career… She told me that, like, sixty percent of female heroes who go on maternity leave never go out into the field again. Sixty percent! A lot of them end up taking on administrative duties or becoming consultants or teachers. Apparently a lot of agencies have super strict rules about getting back onto the field, including her agency, and it’s just easier for heroes not to do it.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. I told her she could join my agency if she wanted, but that doesn’t really make it better, ’cause she’d probably be off the field for more than half her pregnancy, plus maternity leave and any time she takes on desk duty after she comes back. And at small agencies it can be hard to reassign that desk work once one person has been doing it for a while. And if we have multiple kids it’ll be even harder. And most agencies co-owned by couples don’t survive breakups, and we’d both have to start over if we broke up, and throwing kids into that mix just… doesn’t seem fair.”

Katsuki was suddenly glad he didn’t have to deal with this shit—romance and all of the attached shittiness. Then again, it was Ashido who told him he was aromantic all those years ago, and she was something like aromantic, too. What was it? Veneromantic or some shit?

“Anyways. She’s really beat up at the prospect of not having kids, so I don’t really know what any of this means for us. I suggested maybe we could get a surrogate. There’s an entire weird industry for hero surrogacy and women who donate eggs when they have good quirks and stuff—we probably wouldn’t look there, or ask someone we know, but it’s common, is the point. I said I could take a paternity leave if she wants to keep doing field work part time. I don’t think she really believes me, though.”

The kid talk reminded Katsuki of what Deku had said yesterday—that he had gone on that date because Auntie Inko wanted him to have kids. But this was different. Kirishima and Ashido had been together for years already, and they both wanted kids for themselves, not just for their parents. They were thinking things through. They were smart about the whole thing, considering what it meant for their lives and careers.

Katsuki took another bite of his udon.

“Thinking about kids these past couple of months has made everything seem more real,” Kirishima said. “I feel more delicate when I’m out on the field. Which is crazy, ’cause as far as heroes go, I’m literally as far from delicate as you can get. But, you know. I’ve been thinking about the future like crazy. But I’m excited for it, too. Anyway, you probably don’t want to hear about this—all the romance and kid talk. Thanks for just listening, though.”

“Course,” Katsuki said. He tended to just listen, and truth be told, he didn’t mind it. He’d done a pretty piss-poor job of keeping up with everyone from school, and Kirishima was the only one who consistently bugged him until they hung out and talked to him until they were caught up. Katsuki may not be one for talking, but he knew it was good for him.

“Anyway, when was Midoriya over? What’s up with him?”

Katsuki shrugged. “He’s doing pretty good,” he said. “Always going on about his students.”

“I can see Deku-sensei is the same as ever.”

Katsuki might have breathed heavily through his nose in a gesture toward a laugh, but he just didn’t really feel humorous about Deku right now.

“We, um, talked about him joining my agency. For real, this time.”

“Oh? What’d he say?”

“I told him to get back to me. But… I guess, teaching is his main priority. Hero work isn’t at the top of the list.”

“I’m sorry, man. I know how hard it must be. But—just ’cause he doesn’t work at your agency doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. I mean, it’s like you said—teaching is his priority.”

“I know it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care,” Katsuki snapped, and then regretted it. The cat seemed to sense the tension and jumped down from the counter to rub against his leg. He almost kicked her away, but decided against it at the last minute.

Deku was a grown-up who could do what he damn well pleased. And Katsuki knew that if they didn’t spend much time together, it was because he never made time for them. Still, he liked to imagine a world where they didn’t need to make the time—where they knew when they’d be seeing each other next because it was at work, or because they lived together, or because it was built into their schedules for a million other reasons.

Katsuki liked schedules. He wanted Deku to be part of his.

Kirishima stood up and brought his own bowl to the sink. He was always such a fast eater—Katsuki wasn’t half done with his.

“When Mina first took the job back in Chiba and I was still in Esuha, I was constantly looking for a reason to meet up with her. Took me a long time to just own up to the truth. But I think that’s what made it so we could stay friends even when we weren’t seeing each other—just letting her know that I was thinking of her. I know it’s not the same ’cause I was kinda lovesick, but if you want to be close to Midoriya, just tell him that. Anyway, I’m gonna go back down and get started. You take your time to finish—we can work on assembly together if I get done early.”

When Katsuki was driving Kirishima back to the train station, he got a call from Deku. And since he was driving, he took it on speaker, so he had to tell Kirishima to quiet down.

“Hey,” Katsuki said as he answered. “What’s up?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah. I’m not doin’ anything.”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer to join your agency.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to accept.”

In his periphery, Katsuki saw Kirishima air pump. He didn’t react.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think it would be good for us.”

Us.

“Alright. I’ll, um, need to fill out some paperwork—right now my agency isn’t registered to have multiple people, so that’ll need to go through, and then we’ll need to get you into the system, but so long as you’re up to date on all your licensing—and you must be since you work at UA—that’ll be quick. And we’ll need to go over finances, too, and talk about schedules and shit.” Katsuki realized he was rambling almost as bad as Deku usually did. He shut up quickly.

“I’m really excited, Kacchan. I have time now, actually, if you wanted to meet up?”

Katsuki finally glanced over at Kirishima, who was grinning at him like a kid on Christmas.

“Yeah, I’ve just gotta drive back from the train station—I was helping out Kirishima today. I can be at your place in half an hour.”

“Sounds good! I’ll put together something for dessert.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and then hung up as quickly as they said their goodbyes.

“Dude! That’s fucking awesome—he said yes!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki said. “Of course he would. My agency is fucking awesome.”

“Of course. But… Must be nice to know he’s gonna be around more.”

Katsuki didn’t respond. When he made it to the train station, he let Kirishima say goodbye for them.

On his way to UA, he turned up his music real fucking loud.

It wasn’t until summer break where they got everything officially sorted. Deku wanted to revise some of the agency material—he had a website with a mission statement that read “I win fights,” and Deku wanted to expand on that a little bit more, as well as add links to a public email address and some pictures. Katsuki wasn’t thrilled, but it wasn’t all bad—they even did a photoshoot together.

And then… well, Deku started hanging around the agency a lot more. Not every day—when school was back in session, he usually only came around two or three times a week—but it was comfortable. Predictable.

Deku got his own desk. An entire quarter was dedicated to Queen Explosion Purrder.

(The name was a compromise. Katsuki tried to bring back King Explosion Murder, but Deku argued they could do something a little more gentle. He suggested Dynyamight, which Katsuki shot down mostly because it would be too confusing.)

When they worked together, it felt right.

“Alright, I have to get going,” Deku said one evening.

“You should stay for dinner.”

“Tomorrow is a professional development workshop day at UA so all the faculty is going to dinner together tonight. I told everyone I’d be there.”

“Is that librarian going to be there?” Katsuki asked.

“It’s for all the faculty, yes. Even non-teachers.”

He stared at his laptop, though the words no longer meant anything to him. He had an email to send, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be in the right headspace to write it tonight.

“I’ll drive you to UA.”

“Why would you do that? It’s not a long walk.”

“It’s hot as hell outside.”

“I was going to shower when I got back, anyway.”

You could just shower here , Katsuki wanted to suggest, but he heard how absurd it sounded.

“Well, then… I guess you should get going, then.”

“Alright.” Deku stood and paused a moment to pet Queen Explosion Purrder. “Be a good kitty, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Katsuki closed his laptop and stood.

“What are you doing, Kacchan?” Deku asked.

“Meal prepping,” he answered. He hadn’t planned to start his meal prep until later, but now was as good of a time as any. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”

They both walked to the exit together.

Classes started again on Monday. Deku was teaching first-years, and UA had started building in time for community service hours for first-years after summer breaks, since students now had to be at least second-years before they could get a provisional license. Deku would be working hard on coordinating their assignments and assuring they were completing their work—not just completing it, but going Plus Ultra with it. He’d be busy for the next two weeks.

He planned to come in for a patrol next weekend, but the routine would be different.

Katsuki held the door open for him.

“I’ll see you next weekend, Kacchan!” Deku said as he left.

“Later,” Katsuki mumbled.

He closed the door and immediately headed toward the staircase.

Once upstairs, he genuinely did start meal prepping. He liked meal prepping. You couldn’t really go wrong with it. If he made too much food, he could just send it over to Deku and call it a gift. It made life easier, especially given how he had to make so much from scratch just to get enough protein in his diet. It gave him time to think. It made his hands feel useful.

He tossed some chicken to Queen Explosion Purrder, now perched on a shelf built just for her, as he got to work.

He shouldn’t have brought up the librarian earlier. They’d been dating since winter, but not overly seriously… Of course, Katsuki mostly didn’t know. Deku didn’t bring her up unless he did first. Katsuki knew he didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. He didn’t know about romance or dating. Still, their relationship seemed to be moving pretty slowly.

He’d met her once, just for a little bit. When Deku was updating the agency website, they went to the UA library and she helped them with some of the technical stuff. She was nice. Sweet. She had a visual memorization quirk that she could use to save her field of view from a moment in time for later. It helped her with research but also art—the whole library was decorated in her paintings. Hero-inspired stuff. Real nerdy shit. Deku rambled about it for like ten minutes while they were there. She even had a Dynamight painting—she’d made it while doing her bachelor’s. She asked him to sign it.

She and Deku hugged when they were done. Katsuki had walked out to start the car.

It wasn’t his business what they did. It wasn’t his business whether she was at the dinner for UA faculty or the professional development workshop.

He tried to focus more on everything they’d gotten done over break. Deku had even started patrolling four days a week most weeks, excluding when he was at camp. They’d spent more time together than they had since school. And though he wouldn’t be around as much now that the semester was starting, they still had a plan for their future. Katsuki liked that.

They talked about plans for later on. Deku said now he legally couldn’t send any students from UA to intern or do a work-study with the Dynamight & Deku Agency—something about a “conflict of interests”—but Cheeks’s quirk counseling program had been going strong for a few years now and she knew some students who’d gotten into hero programs. She said “quirk misuse” among youth rarely had to do with the quirk and instead was a byproduct of deeper behavioral issues—and she said so with a tone that heavily implied this was the case with Katsuki. Anyway, she had a few such students she was asking Katsuki to consider for internships and work-studies. He had said no initially—he stood his ground, he’d only teach a student who wanted to surpass him—but Deku was urging him to consider otherwise.

Maybe once this year’s group of second-years made it through the exam, Katsuki would have someone else around the agency. It would make Deku happy. He’d get to impart his wisdom on someone other than his own students, and it was always nice to see him in his zone like that. He was always at his perkiest at the start of a new school year.

Long-term, they’d talked about where the agency would be, too. They probably were stuck in the garage for a while more, but they could offset the costs by leasing to another hero eventually, or once Katsuki paid down more of the mortgage they could start leasing the space out entirely. Katsuki knew their very own Might Tower was a long way off so long as he kept refusing brand deals—he had some of his own merch, at least—but with their rankings, they weren’t far off from Katsuki being able to afford a living place big enough to give him a sofa.

And speaking of rankings, they were still a few months off from the new ones dropping, but Katsuki expected they’d both go up at least a rank. (Or maybe he’d go up two ranks and Deku would stay where he was.) Mobility within the top ten was difficult, but not impossible. Lemillion was a fan favorite; Shouto had the benefit of a good quirk, good backstory, and his father’s agency that he’d reformed once he was old enough; but Mount Lady was vulnerable, especially considering what a narrative it would be if Dynamight, Deku, and Shouto were all back-to-back in the rankings. If Dynamight and Deku could become three and four—no matter what order—they’d be unstoppable. And then they could work together to take down that Half-and-Half Bastard.

Katsuki thought about the day when they finally became number one and number two. (When he became number one.) He didn’t give a damn what anyone else said; they’d have a party to decimate Shouto’s number two celebration, they’d drink themselves blind, and then they’d spend however the fuck long they wanted recovering. Katsuki considered what they’d even do if they were stuck together in a hotel room or one of their homes—they’d probably want to watch something, but the only thing they could ever agree to watch was All Might documentaries. Though Katsuki could definitely get those—maybe he should invest in some now, actually. He could get a projector and play it on the walls of the garage.

By then maybe they’d have their own documentaries to watch. Deku and Dynamight: The Dynamic Duo or something corny like that. They’d probably watch them together and laugh at how wrong the documentarians were about it all.

Katsuki kept mulling all this over in his head as he did his meal prep. Before he knew it, Queen Explosion Purrder was headbutting his heel to tell him it was time to eat, and he realized that he really should, too. So after feeding the cat, he pulled together the ingredients for some lentil curry and made his own dinner.

He ate silently, still thinking about his future with Deku. And then he remembered why Deku wasn’t eating with him now—’cause he’d chosen dinner with the UA faculty (including the librarian) over dinner with Katsuki.

He took a while to fall asleep that night.

The next time Class A came together, it was to celebrate Kirishima and Ashido’s engagement.

Kirishima was the one who organized it, but he asked for Katsuki’s help to invite everyone. And since Katsuki had no fucking idea where half of the class ended up, he had to ask Deku for help.

But it worked out and they had rented a private room at a bar to celebrate. Once everyone was there, Kirishima popped a bottle of champagne (nearly breaking a light fixture) and started a toast.

“Everyone! Everyone, I want to say a few words.”

The chatter of the room died down. Everyone looked to where Kirishima stood next to Ashido. He only looked at her.

“Mina and I have known each other for longer than most people in this room—everyone except the ‘problem children,’ of course, our very own number four and five.” There was a laugh across the room and Katsuki scowled, but laid off it when he saw Deku smiling along. “But if you went back twelve years to when we were in middle school and told me one day I’d be about to marry Mina, I’d probably ask, ‘Who?’ And if you said it was the pink-skinned girl from class C, I’d probably say, ‘Ew, girls.’” Again, the room laughed.

“I think everyone in here knows that it was Mina who inspired me to become a hero, but I think I haven’t been giving her enough credit for all she does. It wasn’t just the one time—she inspires me to be a hero every day. She inspires me to be happy. And despite how much she does, she manages to remind me that it’s not about her. It’s about all of us, together. I’m a hero not because I want to save any one person but because I want a world where we can all come together as a group and drink champagne and be happy. And I’m pretty freakin’ psyched that she agreed to help me do that every day for the rest of our lives.”

He sat down and leaned in for a kiss, but Mina pulled away before he could, standing up to everyone. Apparently, she had a speech of her own to give.

“E…” she said, dreamily, happily, staring at him while he grinned like the dork he was. She didn’t say anything else to him, though, just looked out over the room. “I just want all of you to know… I’m gettin’ married, bitches! WOOOO!”

The room broke out in a rowdy cheer and they kissed. Katsuki didn’t do much; he couldn’t pick up the sounds of the room very well when there was a lot going on in it, so he just had to wait for the noise to die down.

Eventually, it did. And since Katsuki was seated right next to the happy couple, he was part of the endless parade of everyone coming up to say hello and congratulate them.

“Bakugou!” Sero said as he waited for Kirishima and Ashido to finish up talking to Ponytail and Four-Eyes. “Heard you own the place for your agency now—I’d love to swing by and see it before I head back tonight.”

“Well, I ain’t driving you,” Katsuki grunted.

Suddenly others started hovering around them too. Great . In a stroke of great timing (for someone), Sparky was walking by as they were talking and stopped to join the conversation.

“Ei said it’s rad, an old auto shop he turned into an HQ,” she said. “I’d love to come by, too!”

Katsuki was about to say no when Deku popped into the conversation.

“Ooh, I’d love to show you the agency!” he said. “Kacchan did all of the hard work but I’ve been doing a bunch of decorative work—it looks pretty good now!”

“Bet it’s a shrine to All Might,” Sero laughed.

“He kinda gets that one, though,” Ears said, butting in. “I mean, he is All Might’s successor.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Sero said. “Still, you got any of your own merch in there? Or any of Dynamight’s?”

“I do!” Deku said. “I get a lot of fan mail with crafts inspired by my costume—mostly the costume from back when I had One For All—and I try to cycle what I have on display regularly. It can be hard, though, so I have to keep a lot of it in storage.”

“Wait, you really keep all of it?” Kaminari asked. “That’s crazy. I remember you getting bucketloads every week back in high school.”

“Ah, well, it’s slowed down a lot…” Deku laughed.

“Katsuki gets a lot of fan mail too!” Kirishima butt in, as though this wasn’t his engagement party. “He just throws most of it away.”

“Hey!” Katsuki snapped. “I read most of the letters. I just don’t want fans thinkin’ there’s any reason to waste their time making shit for me—there’s better things to do. Plus, if I stored all of it, I’d have to get a storage rental, like Deku.”

“Really? You have a whole storage unit?” Jirou asked.

Deku’s ears were red. “Yeah…” he admitted. “But how can I throw any of it away?! It’s all so precious. I finally started scanning all the letters a few years ago, but I have old ones that I never got around to digitizing…”

“Maybe your new librarian girlfriend can help out with that,” Ashido teased. Great, now everyone was joining the conversation.

A chorus of “what?” and “who?” and one “nice, a sexy librarian!” filled the air. The red on Deku’s ears spread to his cheeks.

“Deku, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend!” Cheeks yelled. Katsuki didn’t even know where she came from.

“She’s not,” he said. “We just—We’re just dating. It’s not that serious, and who knows if it’ll even work out...”

“Who’s the girlfriend?” Kaminari asked.

“The librarian at UA,” Katsuki snapped. “And they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re just dating.”

“Ooh, is she pretty?” Hagakure asked.

“Let’s not talk about this tonight,” Deku said. “It’s for Kirishima and Ashido! We should be celebrating them.”

There were some protests, but the group moved on easily enough.

Good.

Katsuki stayed late that night to help clean up. The last two people were him and Icy-Hot. (Deku would have stayed, but he was behind on his grading.)

They waited together to close out the group’s tab. The room was silent, but for Katsuki, that was a relief—his ears were ringing.

“How are you, Bakugou?” Todoroki asked while they waited.

“Just peachy,” he responded, his tone flat.

“Good to hear. It’s been a while since we saw each other. I would love to stop by your agency and see the space. Izuku tells me you have a cat?”

He hummed in response. It was too late for him to come up with some reply, and despite everything, he knew Todoroki well enough to know he didn’t take it personally.

“I’m glad you two are at an agency together. I always thought you both worked best together.”

“Yeah.”

“Truth be told, I was surprised when Izuku told me he had gone on a date with the librarian from UA. I always thought you two would start dating.”

Katsuki perked up, his eyebrows furrowing. “Eh? What are you talkin’ about, Icy-Hot? I’m aromantic. Everyone knows that.”

“Oh, I know, but… So is Ashido, isn’t she? I was under that impression, anyway. I don’t really know how it works. It just always seemed like you two would be good together.”

“Well, I ain’t interested in the whole ‘romance’ thing,” Katsuki said.

“Oh. Well, in that case, I’m glad he’s dating someone else.”

Katsuki’s hand furled into a fist.

“And I’m glad he joined your agency. I wouldn’t be surprised if either of you surpassed Mount Lady this year.”

He let his hand relax.

Todoroki didn’t mean anything by it, of course.

Still, Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t glad Deku had found someone else.

That night, Katsuki couldn’t get to sleep.

He tossed and turned for hours, took a melatonin tablet, read to distract himself… but nothing was working. It was all because of Icy-Hot, dammit. Why’d he have to go and be happy for Deku?

But it was that very question that made Katsuki feel guilty. Truly, why didn’t he feel happy for Deku? What was wrong with him? Was he just so aromantic that he couldn’t even care for someone else’s romantic happiness?

That wasn’t it. He wasn’t admitting it to himself, but he knew that wasn’t it. When Kirishima called and told him that he and Ashido were engaged, he went full nostalgia mode—scrolling through Kirishima’s Instagram to look at how much everything had changed. (It may not look like a lot, but for Katsuki, that was basically leaping for joy.)

He didn’t want Deku to be alone forever if that’s not what he wanted. But… Katsuki knew his plans wouldn’t happen if that was the case. If Deku settled down, had kids, he’d probably fall on the charts. Maybe one day he’d even pull out of the agency.

It was more than that, though. Katsuki wanted more from Deku than he was getting now. He wanted it to be a true partnership—he wanted Deku to quit his job, go pro full time. If he did that, they’d be able to move in together, grow the business…

Katsuki wanted to be life partners with Deku.

Fuck. Fuck.

Three hours later, Katsuki finally hit the “call” button on Kirishima’s contact.

He was pacing the garage. He’d waited until seven to hit the button—it was all he could do, even though he knew they’d stayed up late last night.

Indeed, Kirishima answered the phone all groggy.

“Katsu? What’s up? Is everything alright?”

“How the fuck do you navigate this whole ‘romance’ thing?”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I mean—I’m freaking the fuck out, okay? What the fuck are you supposed to do when you start to feel shit for someone?”

“What is this about?”

Katsuki was about to respond, but he heard soft murmurs from the other side of the line, followed by Kirishima saying, “Nah, it’s just Katsuki. He’s asking about something personal. Go back to bed—I’ll take this call from the living room.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited until Kirishima initiated the conversation again.

“What’s this about?” Kirishima asked. “Do you have feelings for someone?”

“I don’t know,” Katsuki growled. “I’m—I feel weird. I just… Ashido told me I was aromantic when we were third-years, and it just stuck, and I never thought about what I’d do if this became a thing. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Who is this about?”

Katsuki remained silent. How could he admit that?

After a beat passed, Kirishima only sighed. “You don’t have to tell me. But—I mean, you don’t have to do anything. Just ’cause you feel that way toward someone doesn’t mean you have to do anything about it. Take it from me, I sat on my feelings for like seven years.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to feel this way for seven years.”

“Is it really so bad?”

“It’s weird. This is what it feels like to like someone? You just… think about them constantly? You don’t want them to be away from you?”

“That’s one way it can feel. Or it can feel other ways, too. Jeez, Katsuki, the way you called me, I’d have thought you were dying. You’re really this panicked over a crush?”

It didn’t feel like just a crush, but Katsuki couldn’t admit that. It felt like everything he wasn’t supposed to feel. He was supposed to be better than all this dumb romance shit that got everyone into trouble all the time.

“I’m serious,” he said. “I—I hate wanting something that I can’t have.”

“Well, why can’t you have it?”

“They’re—They’re in a relationship.”

“Oh.”

The line went silent. Katsuki began another lap around the room.

Before either could say anything, he heard murmurs through the line again.

“It’s really nothing,” Kirishima said. “He doesn’t—Okay, fine. Katsuki, Mina is insisting I put you on speaker.”

“What? No—”

“Bakugou, it’s me,” Ashido said.

He sighed.

“I hear you’re having some romance trouble?” she asked.

“Were you listening to us?” Kirishima asked.

“For one, we’ve lived together for the better part of a year and I can count on one hand the number of times Bakugou has called you, much less at seven AM on a weekend when we all just stayed up super late the night before, so I was a little worried. Also, babe, you’re already the loudest person I know, and you talk way louder to Bakugou because you know he can’t hear shit. And we live in a pretty small apartment.”

“Eh? You talk louder when you’re around me?” Katsuki asked. “Why—?”

“Not the point,” Ashido interrupted. “Are you panicking because you don’t know how to act on romantic feelings, or because you don’t like that you’re feeling romantic attraction at all?”

He considered the question for a moment. Why was he panicking? He didn’t have to tell the nerd anything, so maybe it was just the realization that he was never actually aromantic. But… Even knowing that he didn’t have to tell Deku anything, he didn’t like that he wanted to. Since when did he want emotional intimacy and vulnerability?

Since when did he wait three hours to call his friend just because of some feelings?

“Both,” he admitted.

“Okay. Well. One at a time. Bakugou, you know when I suggested you might be aromantic, I was never trying to tell you who you are, right? You don’t have to accept that label just ’cause I said it.”

“I know,” he snapped, then realized this was no time to get snippy. “I just… It worked. Because you were right, I hadn’t ever felt this way, and it made me feel different. And I don’t give two shits if I’m different but if it helped other people understand why I was different then good for them.”

“So… do you think you are aromantic?”

“I mean, I don’t feel aromantic right now.”

“Oh. No one ever explained it to you, did they?”

“Explained what?”

“Aromantic isn’t a feeling. I mean, yeah, it means you don’t feel romantic attraction, but it’s more complicated than that. For some people it’s just how they relate to the world. And it’s a spectrum. Some people feel no romantic attraction at all, but some people feel it sometimes, and some people feel it under specific circumstances, and some people—like me—don’t feel it at all but still want that type of relationship.”

“What, so you don’t love Kirishima?” Katsuki asked.

“Of course I love him. Though some aromantic people don’t feel love. Personally, I love Eijirou the way I love all of my friends, but with him, it’s just… more. We’ve talked about it, and he gets it, and that’s what matters. Plus, I trust him to fuck my brains out, so that’s something.”

“Mina!” Kirishima gasped.

“Oh, please. We were all friends with Kaminari back in her incel egg phase. This is nothing he hasn’t heard.”

Katsuki wasn’t exactly scandalized; he decided not to bring up the fact that Kirishima regularly had to apply concealer over hickeys when donning his super revealing hero costume. (His quirk added an extra layer of weird to that.)

“So… I can still be aromantic?” Katsuki asked.

“You could be. Or maybe not. Or maybe you just don’t care. What you’re called doesn’t matter. We can do anything we want so long as it’s safe, sane, and consensual.”

“Oh.”

“Does that make you feel better?” Ashido asked.

“I mean… Yeah. Kinda.”

“Good. I wish I had told you all this years ago. I didn’t realize how seriously you were taking it.”

“S’fine,” he said.

“Yeah. Well, onto the next part. And Bakugou, I want to ask you a question, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

He remained silent.

“Is this about Midoriya?”

Still, he didn’t say anything, but softly, from the other side, he heard Kirishima say “oh.”

When enough time had passed that it was obvious he wasn’t going to answer, Ashido started again. “Alright, well. It doesn’t matter who it’s about. If you’re telling the truth when you say it’s not possible, then… You might have to deal with what a lot of people deal with, which is yearning and maybe a little jealousy. But even if they are in a relationship, you can tell them, if you want. Clear the air. So long as you don’t try to break anyone up, that’s fine. And if they don’t understand it then they probably aren’t a good person to be friends with.”

“But what if he understands but he decides we can’t be friends?”

“I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“What if his girlfriend decides he can’t be friends with me?”

“Then she’s a shitty girlfriend. And if he listens to her, he’s being shitty.”

“What if—”

“Bakugou, you could go on all day. I’m not saying you have to tell him. But you can consider it. And if you don’t want to… Well, Ei knows a thing or two about being in love with a person and biting your feelings down. He could be over in a couple hours with some chocolate and a romcom.”

“I hate chocolate, and I hate romcoms.”

“It’s about the experience.”

He sighed.

“You really think Deku will understand?” Katsuki asked, since they all knew anyway.

“Of course, bro!” Kirishima said. “And, you know, it might be awkward at first, but you two have gotten through a lot worse. Plus, if there’s anyone who you couldn’t hide it from, it’d be Midoriya.”

“He is pretty oblivious,” Ashido pointed out.

“Not helping,” Kirishima said.

Katsuki sighed.

“I want to tell him,” he said. “But… We’ve only gotten our groove down for a few months. Telling him could change everything.”

“You’d hate yourself if you let it stay the same,” Kirishima said. “Ask me how I know.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He knew exactly what Kirishima meant; he’d been the primary point of contact for the seven years between when Kirishima realized just how in love with Ashido he was and when he finally got the nerve to tell her.

“Should I call him?” he asked.

“Maybe text?” Ashido suggested. “Ask him to meet up. Maybe you can get tea or something.”

“Right. You’re right.”

No one spoke. It was like they ran out of things to say.

“I should… go,” Katsuki said. “But thanks for talking. Um, sorry for waking you so early.”

“Hey, you’d answer the phone for me anytime. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“We love you, Bakugou!” Ashido cheered.

“Yeah, bro, love you!”

Katsuki looked at his hand, then sighed. “Love you, too,” he said, the words shrunken. “Gotta go. Bye.”

He hung up.

They agreed to meet up at a bubble tea place. Katsuki had never cared for the stuff, but they had a Shouto-themed drink with a novelty cup, and Deku had been talking about coming here for a little while.

Katsuki got there early, of course. By about an hour and a half. He spent the whole time thumping his leg and looking at the wood grain of the table. A few fans tried to approach, but he scowled them away.

Deku came in with a smile on his face and a baseball cap. He waved at Katsuki but made a beeline to order, eager to get his hands on the cup. When he finally came over, he was gazing at it longingly.

“Hi, Kacchan! I’m so glad you suggested we come here—isn’t it so cute?!”

The cup was split in half vertically, a separate straw coming out from each side, and the outside was decorated like Shouto’s suit. One side was filled with a white, milky liquid; the other was a pinkish color. It was supposed to be like his hair, but Katsuki couldn’t help but think it looked like his pale skin against the scar on his eye. He might have laughed on another day.

“I’m glad you finally got one of your own.”

“Anyway! Before we got to chatting, I actually wanted to tell you something.”

Katsuki’s stomach dropped, and he hated it, but more than that he hated recognizing the fact that he’d felt that before. For months now, every time Deku had brought something up, Katsuki was terrified he was going to break away from him somehow.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Akiya-san and I broke up.”

“Akiya?”

“The UA librarian? I guess it wasn’t really a breakup, since we were never official, but we… decided to stop seeing each other. She told me yesterday, and I didn’t want to bring it up since we were celebrating Kirishima and Ashido, but I wanted you to be the first to know, since you never really liked her anyway.”

“Who said I didn’t like her?” It was a kneejerk reaction; he heard it as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

He hadn’t realized he’d been jealous of her all this time.

“You always got a certain look on your face whenever I talked about her.” He hardly heard the words.

“Wait, she broke up with you? Why?”

Deku shrugged. “I was looking for something slow, and she wanted to move faster. And honestly, we were hardly dating at all. We spent most of our time together talking about heroes. We’ll still be friends! She and I are still planning on doing lunch together at work.”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry, Deku.”

“Don’t be. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Katsuki looked at the wood grain again. Did this change anything? No, it only meant that if Deku shot him down, it was because he wanted to.

He realized how much worse that was as soon as he thought it.

Katsuki swallowed and remembered how miserable Kirishima was for all those years when he was pining over Ashido; he had no idea how she felt, but he drove himself mad thinking over all the possible rejections. It was worse torture than if she’d actually just shot him down.

You two have gotten through a lot worse. Kirishima was right about that.

“I have feelings for you,” he said, the words spilling from his mouth like vomit. (Why do people always describe confessions of love as some cutesy, pink, shoujo-bubble moment? It’s utter fucking torture.)

Deku was mid-sip from the pink side of his bubble tea; he paused in the middle, and though he tried to hide it, it was obvious he had a tapioca pearl in his mouth.

After he finished chewing, he asked, “What, like, romantic feelings?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. It’s—I didn’t think I was the kind of person to feel that way, and I still don’t. But I like you. I want to spend my life with you one way or another.”

He put his cup down. Looked at his hands.

Katsuki was sure he was done for.

“You don’t have to feel the same way!” he blurted. “I wanted to tell you. But if you don’t feel the same, you don’t have to do anything. I just—I didn’t want to live with the not knowing.”

He still didn’t speak. Katsuki never was one for filling silences, and he decided not to become that person right now. It would be agony either way.

Finally, he heard a faint noise, barely saw Deku’s mouth moving to utter the words. He couldn’t make them out, though.

“What?”

“Oh, thank God,” Deku repeated, looking up this time, his eyes glassy but his mouth pulled into a smile.

Katsuki’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“You mean—”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” Deku said.

“You—You were in love with me? You never said anything?”

“I—I never thought it was an option. I always wanted to respect that. But—thank God.”

Katsuki didn’t move; he didn’t know what to say. Was it really that easy?

“What—What do we do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Deku said. “Maybe… We can go back to the agency?”

As soon as the words were spoken, Katsuki stood, pulling on his jacket.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Katsuki and Deku narrowly avoided the class calling another party two weeks later once it got out that they were together. But they couldn’t avoid all the questions during the afterparty of Kirishima and Ashido’s wedding. At least by then they’d gotten it more figured out.

“You know, you put me out like ten-thousand yen,” Kaminari said offhandedly at the end of the party.

“Eh?” Katsuki asked. He and Deku sat together, Deku leaning into his chest, Katsuki’s arm over his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t drudge up that old bet,” Jirou said.

“I wouldn’t have! It was Sero who insisted I pay up.”

“I used that money to buy manga, for your information,” he chimed in from where he sat a few chairs down.

“Want me to sign it?” Kaminari asked. “This book was brought to you by a twenty-six-year-old sucker getting scammed by her seventeen-year-old self.”

“What was the bet?” Deku asked.

“Well, Kaminari was convinced you two would never get together. I was sure it would happen.”

“Why were you so certain?” Katsuki asked.

“Well, I mean, it was obvious Deku was pining after you,” Sero said. “I never said it had to be romantic! I actually originally tried to get Kaminari to pay up once you became partners at the agency. I woulda sworn she was trying to scam me, but, you know, I figured I’d be and let be.”

“That’s not what you said six months later,” Kaminari muttered.

“Well, you shouldn’t waste your money on stupid bets like that,” Katsuki said. And the conversation died down, shifted away; Sero turned back toward the group where he sat, and Kaminari and Jirou started talking about something else.

“I can’t believe they knew,” Deku said, just loud enough for Katsuki to hear.

“Hmm? Knew what?”

“That I was in love with you.”

Katsuki smiled.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I made an exception just for you.”