Work Text:
The moonlight bathed the bedroom in a silvery glow, lending the room a touch of radiance and brightness that allowed Izuku to see as clearly as if it were daytime. He was lying on a large bed—the one he’d bought just two months ago, because it turned out he couldn’t fit on it with his partners. God, partners. He still couldn’t believe it was true. But the warmth radiating from their bodies lying beside his hips reassured him of it.
He turned his head to the right. Katsuki was frowning in his sleep and occasionally curled his lip, as if he were arguing with someone in his sleep. He had one arm draped across Izuku’s stomach, his fingers dug into his side, pulling him against his soft chest. In the moonlight, he looked even younger than usual. His hair had taken on a peroxide tint, and his skin shimmered.
He turned his head to the left. His nose buried itself in Ochaco’s thick brown hair as she lay with her head resting on his shoulder. She smiled contentedly in her sleep, a thin trickle of saliva running from the corner of her mouth and soaking into his pajamas. With one hand tucked into a glove—so as not to accidentally activate her quirk—she rested it on his chest, the other curled against her own, as if trying to force their hearts to beat in unison.
But Izuku felt as though his heart was about to leap out of his chest. It was pounding, his ears were ringing, and he felt a strange pressure in his throat that made him swallow constantly, forcing saliva through his constricted throat. Carefully, so as not to wake either of them, he pulled away from them and sat up. Katsuki rolled onto his back, and Ochaco curled up into a ball. Both were still asleep.
He treaded carefully across the floor until he reached the living room, where he opened the glass doors leading to the balcony. The cool morning breeze immediately refreshed his body. He was able to take a deep breath and inhale some fresh air. Ochaco’s sweet perfume and Katsuki’s rich cologne still tickled his nose. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked down. He saw only the blurred lights of the still-bustling city. He gazed into the distance. The moon was full and shining brightly. It was beautiful.
Just like the two of them tonight. It was the first time in those three months that they’d decided to spend the evening together. The three of them. It was—different. Izuku couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something about that evening just felt right.
When Ochaco asked him three months ago if she could talk to him and invited him to the park near his apartment, his heart was pounding like crazy. He’d noticed that she’d been looking at him longer lately, texting him more, blushing whenever he spoke to her. He tried not to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts telling him that maybe—just maybe—there was a chance she felt the same way about him as he did about her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wanted to be with her. To spend time with her, talk to her, hold her hand.
As he slipped on his red sneakers, he imagined what Ochaco would do when he told her he liked her and asked her out on a date. His heart gave a sharp twinge. A strong one. He had to clutch his chest to make sure his heart hadn’t actually burst right then. He exhaled loudly. “Izuku, come on,” he scolded himself when he realized what that meant. He was being selfish. Even though he liked Ochaco and was looking forward to seeing her big brown eyes, he longed for the red eyes belonging to his childhood friend to look at him with the same interest. Six months ago, Katsuki decided to strike out on his own and started his own hero agency. He became a hero who sought out sidekicks and climbed the popularity rankings all the way to number one. Izuku watched his journey from afar, just as he had done their entire lives, ever since childhood, when he admired Katsuki’s towering sandcastles while he himself couldn’t even build a standing cube out of a bucket of sand. Their relationship had changed a lot. At first, he was afraid of what Katsuki would say about him calling them friends, but when he once heard him say that he would “do anything for everyone I love. That goes for Izuku, of course,” he nearly fainted on the spot. Katsuki just rolled his eyes back then and let the green-haired boy admire him the way he knew how best.
That was why it was so hard for him to accept that his emotions were growing stronger and that his admiration was slowly turning into something rawer and darker. Something Katsuki must never find out about. He loved having him back in his life so much that he was willing to sacrifice his own reason for it—the voice in his head that screamed at him every time he decided to say goodbye to Katsuki and let him go again.
Ochaco was the right and easier choice. Although he felt like slapping himself for it. Anyone would be thrilled if this heroine were interested in him. He’d liked her for so many years! So why had his heart decided to act so selfishly and long for two people to take his hands instead of just one?
He quickly ran out of his apartment and made his way to the meeting spot. Even from a distance, he could see how nervous Ochaco was. She was pacing back and forth, biting her carefully manicured nails. He waved at her. She noticed him immediately. She pulled her hand back to her side, blushed, and stood still. Izuku was running up to her just as Katsuki appeared at her side. Izuku blinked in surprise. “Finally,” Katsuki growled at him then, “Ochaco almost done a new path into the sidewalk here.” Izuku blinked in confusion. Ochaco? Since when did Katsuki call her by her name?
“Izuku,” Ochaco said, taking his hand—which felt unnaturally hot against her cool one—“Can we talk to you? Both of us?” He couldn’t get a word out. He just nodded. “Please sit down; there’s a bit more to it.”
Izuku smiled at the memory. He remembered sitting down on the bench, and before either of them had even had a chance to catch their breath, he started crying and asking why they hadn’t told him they were a couple. Neither of them understood. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? That’s why we’re here.” Ochaco blushed bright red, started waving her hands in front of her face, and said something about “that’s not it”; while Katsuki squirmed, let out a gagging sound, and muttered something like a “no one would force him to voluntarily touch a pussy.”
Izuku didn’t get it. Until each of them took one of his hands and knelt down in front of him. It looked weird. Like they were confessing their feelings to him. Izuku tried to push the thought away, but once it was there, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It turned out he wasn’t that far off the mark again. Only instead of a marriage proposal, they both asked him if he wanted to date them. After that, he didn’t remember much, because he passed out and didn’t wake up until he was in the hospital, with a tearful Ochaco by his side and a screaming Katsuki demanding more water and better pillows for Izuku from the hospital staff.
It wasn’t until he got home that evening—while Ochaco was trying to stuff him with chocolate to give his body a sugar boost and Katsuki was complaining that the fridge was full of nothing but instant meals—that he realized what had happened in the park. “What the f—,” he trailed off as he looked at them both, and they both grew serious.
It took nearly five hours, a few tears, and detailed questions before Izuku understood what they actually wanted from him. “You don’t have to answer right away,” Ochaco assured him as she handed him a cup of hot tea. “We’re not pressuring you. It’s entirely up to you, Izuku,” Katsuki said seriously as he wrapped him in a blanket.
They both slept on the living room floor that night, while he couldn’t sleep, watching their contented faces. They both wanted him. They wanted to be his partners. They would take their friendship to the next level. Ochaco talked about how she’d had a crush on him since high school, and those feelings hadn’t faded even after graduation. Katsuki admitted that when they finally started talking again, the resistance he’d felt inside him disappeared, replaced by nothing but sincere concern and a desire to be close to him.
In the morning, he had dark circles under his eyes and was incredibly tired. Katsuki made pancakes for them, while Ochaco made him take a shower and put his dirty clothes in the wash. “But you two…?” he asked as he ate breakfast, with both of them sitting across from him, gazing at him as if he were a holy image. They looked at each other. They were friends. They shared a desire for one man. That was what bound them together. But they weren’t jealous of each other. They knew how to support one another. Even if Izuku chose only one of them, the other would never stand in the way of their happiness. Even if Izuku ultimately decided he didn’t want either of them, they would be by his side until the end of his days. And if he wanted both—they were willing to share. “Just don’t make me kiss her,” Katsuki stuck out his tongue in disgust. “I’ll never touch his penis,” Ochaco began, shuddering. “Can’t you just say ‘dick’ like a normal person?” Katsuki asked her, and Ochaco blushed. They started bickering like little kids, and it finally relaxed Izuku enough that he laughed. They both joined in.
Nothing happened for a while. Until Katsuki messaged him, asking if he’d go to the movies with him. Just like that. During their time off. In the evening. To see a new superhero action movie. He couldn’t say no. When Katsuki bought him popcorn and found their seats right in the middle of the back row, he hopped up and down with joy, looking forward to spending some time alone with his friend. But during the movie, all he could think about was how Katsuki’s hand had found his thigh, massaging and squeezing it the whole time, his eyes fixed on the screen as if it were the most normal thing in the world. That evening, he walked him home and hugged him briefly at the door. Then, with a blush—which Katsuki still denies he had on his face!—he drove home, leaving Izuku alone with his confusion.
Two days later, just as he was finishing up at school, Ochaco knocked on the door. She had baked him the cheesecake he loved so much and brought it over while it was still warm. They opened the classroom windows to let the pleasant summer air flow in, sat down at their desks, and happily dug in. They chatted and laughed. Time flew by at a dizzying pace. At one point, Ochaco reached out her delicate hand toward his face and wiped the crumbs from his lips. She then put them in her mouth and murmured contentedly. Immediately after, she continued recounting her latest experience on patrol as if nothing had happened, while Izuku trembled with excitement.
They both met with him, wanted his attention, wrote to him. Izuku couldn’t get enough of it. Every time his phone vibrated, every time he heard a knock on the door of his apartment or office, or saw a shadow that began to follow him, he smiled. He waited for their words, their touch, their presence. He enjoyed it.
And yet…
Katsuki and Ochaco didn’t have any feelings for each other. At least not romantic ones. They were friends and colleagues. They trained together, posing in front of the mirror with their biceps flexed. They laughed at the same jokes, and sometimes they’d go to a bar together, where they’d both drink themselves into a stupor because they wanted to prove to the other that they could drink more beer. They respected each other, they could work together, and yet there was a playfulness in them that made them tease and bicker with one another. Perhaps, to the untrained eye, they might have seemed like a flirting couple, but Izuku knew that it was “just” a deep understanding, reflected in the fact that they were both attracted to the same man.
Izuku felt selfish. He had drawn two different, yet beautiful moths to his light, and they fluttered around him in the hope that he would turn one of them into a butterfly whose wings he would admire for the rest of his life. It was a burden that weighed him down. He couldn’t choose. He couldn’t favor one over the other. If he chose Katsuki, he would soon miss Ochaco’s warm embrace. If he chose Ochaco, his heart would forever rejoice at Katsuki’s successes, which he would want to experience by his side.
His head was spinning. He had to lean against the railing and take a deep breath. He snapped back to the present, but he wasn’t any clearer-headed than he had been a moment ago. Dried sweat glistened on his forehead, feeling uncomfortably cold. He closed his eyes.
He saw tonight playing out before him like a scene from a movie. Three months had passed since they’d opened up to Izuku about their feelings for him, since they’d asked him out on dates, since they’d spent evenings at his place, and occasionally—occasionally—when the mood was right and their hearts were beating in unison, he’d kissed them and given in to the fleeting excitement that came with the kisses. But they never did anything more. Neither Katsuki nor Ochaco pressured him, but they tried to stop him together when his hands started wandering too far down and the kisses moved lower than his collarbone. They didn’t want to be just a memory of a passionate night. They wanted it to mean something. And they still felt that it didn’t mean that much to Izuku. He understood them; logically, he understood their every move and step. Yet it tormented him. He longed for them so much.
Tonight couldn't have been better. Ochaco and Katsuki decided to spend the evening together this time. They didn’t try to shout each other down or outdo one another. Yes, Ochaco frowned when Katsuki fed him a taste of what he’d been cooking on the stove, and yes, Katsuki made gagging noises when Ochaco wrapped her arms around Izuku’s shoulders and started stroking his hair until he began to purr contentedly. But nothing else. They helped each other in the kitchen, set the table together, and sat across from Izuku so they could both reach him. They played with his fingers, sometimes brushing his calf with their feet under the table, then returning to their conversation as if it didn’t give Izuku panic attacks.
He couldn’t take his eyes off them. They said they were just stopping by, having dinner together, and watching a movie, but they’d both put on clothes that perfectly highlighted their figures. Ochaco’s neckline was deeper than usual; Katsuki wore a T-shirt that was clearly too small for him and hugged his muscles tightly. Her skirt was short, and his jeans highlighted his toned thighs. They were both wearing the necklace he’d given them for Christmas last year. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d given them the same one with a sun pendant. Because that’s what they were to him. Both of them. His suns.
Dinner went smoothly. When they watched movies, they sat next to him; Katsuki put his arm around his shoulders, and Ochaco rested her head on his lap. They were watching some romantic comedy that neither of them was paying any attention to. Both of them gently stroked him—Katsuki on his shoulder, Ochaco on his knee—and smiled contentedly as they did so.
When they went to bed, everything was innocent. They lay down next to each other, said goodnight, and just before turning off the lights, they kissed. First he kissed Ochaco, then Katsuki. Both just as quickly and innocently. Both smiled at him and lay down. Soon they snuggled up to him and fell asleep.
It was a strange evening, but Izuku couldn’t get enough of it. He couldn’t imagine waking up tomorrow morning and neither of them being next to him. That they’d just be friends again, occasionally sending each other funny videos or reading about each other in the newspaper. He wanted to be a part of them.
But—did they want that too? They’d agreed not to compete, but what if that stopped working over time? Ochaco had low self-esteem, Katsuki was jealous. Izuku couldn’t meet all their expectations. He wasn’t—enough.
He shivered. The wind brushed against his skin again. It was already cold. Yet he couldn’t even move.
The balcony door opened. He didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. He would recognize those heavy, yet quiet footsteps anywhere. When Katsuki reached him, he stood a step away, his back against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at Izuku as if checking to see if he was hurt anywhere. He always took care of him; he always put him first. Oh, Katsuki, Izuku’s heart leapt with joy.
They stood there, side by side for a moment. Izuku stared absently into the distance, his mind loud and screaming for him to do something. But he had no idea what that something was.
Katsuki broke the silence between them. “Do you regret it?”
Izuku looked at him for the first time. “What?”
“That you’re with us?”
“No,” he replied honestly, “I could never regret that. I’m grateful to be here with you both.”
“Hm.” Katsuki slipped his hands into his pants pockets and tilted his head back. He looked up at the sky. The stars were clear and bright tonight. “Does Ochaco bother you here?”
“God, no,” he replied, perhaps a little too quickly, but he wasn’t ashamed of it, “of course not. Ochaco is perfect. Her warmth, her touch, her voice… everything. I-I…” He couldn’t put it into words. There was no other way to say it than with those two words he was so afraid of.
Katsuki tilted his head to one side and looked at Izuku’s face, which was focused. He was frowning. Cute, Katsuki thought. He suppressed his own smile and asked seriously, “Does it bother you that I’m here?”
“No, Kacchan,” Izuku replied gently.
Katsuki frowned. He didn’t start mumbling like he did with Ochaco. Maybe… “Maybe you just don’t want to hurt me.”
“Of course I don’t want to hurt you, Kacchan. That’s been clear since we were kids, hasn’t it?” He smiled and looked at Katsuki. He paused. He looked serious. Too serious. “Ka—”
“If you’ve made your choice, you can tell us. You know what we promised you at the beginning, and if Ochaco is the one who’s better for you—”
“No, neither of you is better for me. Because you’re both perfect.” Katsuki pressed his lips together and looked into Izuku’s eyes. Where did he find so much courage? Since when had he looked at him with such charisma and conviction? “Kacchan, you know very well how much I admire you. For years, you’ve been the most important thing in my life, and honestly, I don’t know if you’ve ever been anything less than my everything. I can’t imagine losing you. I don’t want to lose you.” He gripped the railing in his palms and shuddered. “God, I don’t want to lose you or Ochaco—I lov—” He slapped his hand over his mouth. He stared at Katsuki in fear.
Katsuki parted his lips. He blinked in surprise. “Izuku,” he whispered.
“N-No,” he stammered, “I-I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t you feel that way?”
Of course he did. And that was exactly what was so wrong about it! He shouldn’t feel this way, right? He shook his head. “It’s just… it’s just…” He trembled. What was he supposed to say? For years, he’d struggled just to accept that he was bisexual. He’d hoped that one day he’d find a partner who would accept him for who he was—with all his quirks and flaws. But he’d never imagined it could be Katsuki and Ochaco. His two closest people. His two loves.
Katsuki wrapped his arms around Izuku’s shoulders and pressed him tightly against his body. Izuku didn’t resist. He immediately wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s waist and buried his head in his shoulder. “It’s okay, Izuku,” he whispered, gently kissing his hair. Gradually, he moved the kisses further—to his ear, his neck, his cheek—until he stopped at his lips. He opened his mouth to ask if he could kiss him, but Izuku beat him to it. He pressed their lips together and moaned contentedly. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before they pulled apart, and Katsuki kissed his forehead and ran one hand through his thick curls. “You know that Ochaco and I love you. Now it’s your turn. How do you feel about us?”
Izuku shuddered. He didn’t know if he could say it out loud. Once he did, there would be no taking it back. He would never be able to hide it again. He didn’t know if he was ready for that.
More footsteps. Softer, shuffling. Ochaco. “What’s going on?” she asked quietly. Izuku tilted his head to the side to look toward the door. She looked sleepy, her hair sticking up cutely. She’d taken off her gloves, a blanket draped over her shoulders. When she saw Izuku’s troubled face, she woke up immediately. She looked at Katsuki. Her expression softened. She was probably reassured by how open and gentle Katsuki looked. Izuku needed her, too. He reached out his hand to her, and she took it immediately. She intertwined her fingers with his and stepped closer to them. Katsuki moved one hand to his shoulder so she could kiss him and rub her nose against his cheek, where freckles still remained. “We’re here for you, Izuku.”
“Always,” Katsuki added.
Izuku knew that. He just had to stop being so afraid. Because then he would finally be able to love the way he felt. “Thank you,” he whispered, but said nothing more.
Ochaco and Katsuki stood there with him, hugging him, kissing him, comforting him. They knew he needed time. And they were willing to give him all the time in the world, as long as he stayed with them.