Chapter Text
Bakugou hated parties like this–ones where he was forced to dawn an expensive black suit and red tie that accentuated his eyes. Ones where he was forced to stand around, wine-glass half full and make small talk with other heroes because it was “good for his image.” Screw them. He didn’t give a shit about this. It was an excuse to get drunk, not to do anything actually useful. For god’s sake, this was supposed to be about strategy! Taking down violent gangs that had been recently threatening citizens! But of course they were just laughing about some gossip. Probably didn’t even know left from right by now.
Bakugou cursed his mother for insisting he come–talking about something or other. “Making friends.” Bullshit. He had the nerd and his group of idiots–that was all he needed.
He shifted uncomfortably, his face mostly neutral except for a slight downward quirk of his lips. He glanced at Midoriya, who had come with him. His one saving grace and the only reason he actually came–who was currently chatting with a lower ranked hero visiting from America. They were both smiling, faces slightly flushed from the alcohol–although guessing from how the hero was leaning into him, she was blushing from a little more than her drink. It wasn’t surprising. Who wouldn’t be into the nerd? His cute freckles and green hair? It was an odd but somehow beautiful mix of unique traits, ones so iconic that freckles had gone into fashion in Japan of all places after the war. He’d seen dozens of influencers giving tutorials on how to paint on freckles that matched the saviors of Japan.
He sighed, looking away. Maybe he could snag him in a few minutes and drag him home for a night of watching documentaries and debriefing the recent mission they’d been assigned. Bakugou had even stayed sober despite how irritating it was to watch several heroes try (and thankfully unsuccessfully, said a more selfish part of his mind) flirt with him. He snorted with sardonic amusement. Someone could go right up to him and say “let’s bang eachother!” and he’d think they were making a joke. Despite how he’d matured since their teen years and growing into a very handsome man with a sharp jawline and good form, he was still under the impression that he was average looking at best. It was almost cute how dense he was sometimes.
Then he frowned, remembering how exactly that notion got into his head.
Despite the fact they were now closer than they’d ever been, Bakugou had never truly forgiven himself for the bullying. Even after Deku forgiving him on the rooftop. Even after the war. Even after giving Deku his suit. He could never let go of how upset he’d made him. It was why, even after pining after Deku for nearly a decade now, he’d never made a move. After all, Bakugou had made a promise to himself to give Deku everything he deserved, and he’d never break it. Even if it broke his own heart in two.
He supposed it was just the price he had to pay for his mistakes.
“Hey, there,” a voice said from beside him. He looked over to see another American hero. He was dressed in light blue, bright orange hair surrounding his face, with a futuristic-looking weapon at his side. His suit was tight, showing off his lithe build, a cape wrapped around his shoulders almost like Izuku did. He smiled at Bakugou.
Bakugou shot him a glare and didn’t bother to reply, which unfortunately didn’t seem to deter the man. Ugh. Instead, he just laughed and sat down beside him, his glass held loosely, liquid sloshing against the sides. Jesus, wasn’t he scared of spilling his drink? Or did he just not care about staining the furniture? Bakugou narrowed his eyes, glancing back up to his face. This man, whoever he was, was getting on Bakugou's nerves.
“My name’s Ryjuin,’ he announced, smirking. He seemed cocky. And annoying. Likely a few years younger than Bakugou–maybe early twenties? Clearly no one had bothered to knock him down a peg yet. “And you must be the ever-elusive Katsuki Bakugou! Savior of Japan and swooner of ladies!” Great. Not only was he a theater kid that had never been put in his place, but he was under the false impression Bakugou was some sort of fuck-boy. Bakugou already hated him.
“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped.
“Ohh, feisty! I like that.” Bakugou wrinkled his nose, turning to give him an incredulous look. Seriously? This was the game he was playing? “Hey, what can I say? I’m into bad boys.”
Bakugou wanted to deck this guy in the face.
“I’m not a fucking bad-boy, moron. Leave me alone,” Bakugou hissed, turning away. He hated people who thought of him like that–as if he was just a trope they could fit into a neat little box. Like he was somebody's fantasy. Fuck that! Katsuki Bakugou was his own damn person for god’s sake and he wasn’t going to waste time on idiots who thought he was their love interest in a video game or some shit. Especially not when there was someone else he was already wholeheartedly devoted to, so much so he’d never even had his first kiss.
(And not to mention, even if he did entertain them, even a little bit, they’d probably be sorely disappointed when they realized he wasn’t a dominant with a shitload of experience in bed.)
“Oh, so you prefer to go outside the box?” whatever-his-name said. “That’s fine, I like that too. Y’know, I–”
“I don’t give a shit what you like.” He turned to give him a warning look. “Fuck back to your band of weirdos.” Bakugou shot a glare at the co-ed group of visiting heroes that were staring at the two, not-so-subtly supporting the man. One of them even had their phone out. Fucking perverts.
“But we’re having so much fun!” he insisted, leaning forward, smiling even more brightly. Fucking obnoxious.
“Like hell we are,” Bakugou said, watching him take another large sip of his drink. “Why the fuck are you even drinking so much?”
“Oh, so you do care!” He seemed far too delighted. “Well, the reason is simply, really. I just needed a bit of liquid courage!”
“Oh, so you’re a fucking coward,” Bakugou mocked. Ryujin's face turned red.
“I-well–,” he sputtered. This was probably the first time Bakugou had been happy all night, and he smirked the tiniest bit at the man's embarrassment. Unfortunately, he seemed to recover far too quickly, because his annoying smirk returned. “But seriously, man, who wouldn’t need a little to approach someone as handsome as you?”
Immediately, any amusement he might have had vanished. Because for one, Deku wouldn’t have. And for a second, he was trying to butter him up. And as much as Bakugou appreciated praise, he didn’t care for it from some shit D-lister he’d never met.
“I’m not impressed,” Bakugou informed him, raising his eyebrows.
“Well of course, how could anyone impress you when you literally saved Japan when you were sixteen!” Bakugou narrowed his eyes again.
Deku could, he thought bitterly.
“I didn’t save Japan alone, dumbass.” Bakugou frowned. What the fuck did this dude want? A relationship, a hookup or just information? And why was he acting like Bakugou hung the stars in the sky when Deku was right there? Deku was kind and brave and selfless and defeated One For All. Bakugou had just helped him. Deku was the one everyone should flock to–and for good reason. Deku deserved to be happier than anyone else.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Ryjuin placing a hand on his shoulder, far too close for comfort. “Wow, Katsuki! I didn’t realize how humble you were! It’s a nice change from your tough-guy act. But y’know what? I think you’re way better than all those other heroes–especially whatever that green guy's name was. Dekiru? Dolly? Doesn’t matter. So why don’t you and me get a little closer?”
In that moment, with all the people around him and bright lights, Bakugou had an idea.
A terrible, delightful idea.
He turned to the younger hero and gave him a smirk of his own, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the low light. Like an everburning fire.
“Y’know what? Fine.” Bakugou said slowly, placing a hand on his chest. The man’s eyes lit up, seeming to think he was finally getting somewhere. Like he was at the end of a long journey and had finally found treasure.
Only to be horrified when Bakugou pushed him off the couch completely, his head slamming into the hardwood floor. Heroes around him gasped, but Bakugou had already had enough. So instead of shouting, he just smirked and leaned down just the tiniest bit to say, “you’re an idiot to think you’d ever have a chance with me.”
Then he got up and walked away, grabbing a confused Deku's arm as he left, who dutifully followed him without complaint.
When they got into the car, Deku turned and looked at Bakugou, who had already started backing up. “What was that all about?”
Bakugou just rolled his eyes at the memory, already fading from his mind as he took in the gorgeous nerd’s face, illuminated by the moonlight. “Don’t worry you’re dumb little head about it, nerd.”
.
If Bakugou had ever bothered to watch the footage that had gone viral that night (which he didn’t), he would’ve noticed how the hero's face had gone completely red, staring at Bakugou’s back as he walked away; and undoubtedly would have noticed how Bakugou's actions had clearly awoken something inside the young man. But unfortunately, he would not. However, his teammates would mock him mercilessly for it, and the blonde-haired man would become a staple in the hero's fantasies.