Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were different after the war. Everyone in Class 2-A was. 

Even if they tried to pretend the opposite, slipping into old habits felt like a cheap facade, especially when the proof of their change was displayed so clearly for the world to see. Their bodies littered in darkening bruises, broken bones, and scars mapped across their skin; some worse than others, their quirks permanently impaired by jumping into battle far too soon, far too young.

There were just some questions that a 16-year-old should never have to answer: How do you deal with losing a part of yourself that had been there all your life? How do you clean off the blood on your hands paid in the price of incompetence? 

In the months after the war, the bravest ones were the loudest. Iida and Yaoyorozu, the infallible class presidents, held the class together with structure and empathy; but it was Kirishima and Kaminari that made things feel almost normal again, their slapstick routine managing to drown out even the darkest thoughts on the worst days. 

But the most noticeable change was those two. Once described as the heart and soul of their class. Former childhood friends turned war heroes practically overnight. 

Midoriya Izuku had been acting differently long before the battle was over. His classmates would never forget the blank, haunted look in his eyes when they found him out in the ruined city. Self-proclaimed vigilante, but all they could see was the once innocent angel of their class caked in blood and grime to the point of being unrecognisable. A true Symbol of Peace in a world that no longer believed in it. 

Thankfully a fragment of the normal Midoriya seemed to return once they brought him home, and he could even smile earnestly once the war was well and truly done, but it was undeniable that the once easily flustered and naive hero-in-training had matured lightyears beyond his peers. 

Between classes and restoration efforts, it became common for Midoriya to disappear for meetings with the rebuilt Hero Commission, discussions with the police, attending interrogations with villains, or the increasingly frequent check-ins with the former Symbol of Peace. 

As much as the teachers at UA tried to restore normalcy — or as normal as it could get for a classroom of war veterans — there were some things even they couldn’t deny. 

Their students had stepped up and succeeded where the adults had failed, and Midoriya Izuku had near-singlehandedly stopped a villain that would have caused worldwide devastation. As much as they hated to admit it, these weren’t children anymore. 

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t worry, and when they weren’t worrying about Midoriya, they were worrying about Bakugou. 

Bakugou Katsuki seemed to shrink into himself after the war. What used to be a roaring fire had dimmed into a slow simmer, tempered by the heart monitor he had to carry around everywhere he went. His words remained as harsh as ever, but it lost most of its bite when it wasn’t immediately followed by the sound of explosions popping from his palms. 

The partial loss of his quirk, no matter how temporary, felt like the biggest blow to the class. They couldn’t remember a time when the explosive blonde wasn’t at the forefront of everything, loudly demanding to prove his superiority and downplay all the extras at every given opportunity. 

Instead he hung behind said extras now, slowly working his way towards rehabilitation. Any frustrated outbursts and threats thrown at his doctor had been dealt with at the hospital, and all that was left behind was the gnawing realization that there was no fast track to recovery. Especially not for the person who had literally died and came back to life. 

Nobody in the class would admit this to his face, but sometimes they had to look over to make sure he was even there; not used to the tense silence that seemed to follow the blonde everywhere now. 

But they would get used to it.

They would get used to a lot of things. 

At the very least, one thing remained the same amidst all the change. Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki were still their heart and soul, although that meant something entirely different now. As the world watched the two young boys go through the absolute wringer and come out triumphant, Class 2-A saw blind optimism and wild passion replaced with an unbreakable tenacity and vision for the future. 

Midoriya and Bakugou were still fighting to become heroes, and they would too. 

Katsuki knew things were going to be different. You don’t fucking die and come back to life without some shit changing. He just wished it wasn’t so annoying and — ugh — emotional. 

One of the first things the Commission had done post-war was mandate therapy for all UA students. Practically kicking and screaming, he had been shoved into a hospital room one day with a mousy-looking middle-aged woman with pity-filled eyes, dressed in the blandest fucking shade of beige.

He couldn’t stand the way she looked at him, gentle gaze unwavering even when he snapped at her; albeit under his breath with one eye constantly on his heart monitor. 

But there were only so many ways he could answer “how are you today?” and “how do you feel about that?” without losing his fucking mind. Clearly he wasn’t giving the answers that she wanted, because she kept on persisting with that wide-eyed stare and hopeful look that reminded him too much of a certain nerd. It was uncanny. 

“Don’t you want to get better?” she had asked softly one day, and he felt a dormant competitive spark race through his body. He had forgotten what that felt like. Not since his only worthy rival had suddenly dropped out of the race.

The dam cracked. 

There was nothing he hated more than talking about his fucking feelings, and he would never admit it out loud, but being in therapy helped. Bakugou “Kacchan” Katsuki had a lot of issues, so sue him. Worst of all, it was becoming clear that most of them had to do with a certain green-haired loser. 

He still could hardly believe he had cried, actually sobbed over the realization that De— no, Izuku had lost his quirk. He didn’t even cry when he returned from the brink of death for god’s sake, but when he heard the word embers , his already-weakened heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, and in that moment, it felt worse than death. 

And he could say that now that he knew what death felt like. 

At least back then, on the battlefield, he was dying a hero. A name that would go down in history books. But this? This future wasn’t even on the table. 

To make matters worse, the smiley dipshit had brushed it aside by saying some bullshit about “being happy he got to live this dream” and that “he wasn’t really sad” while Katsuki bawled his fucking eyes out in front of his longest friend and a room full of people.

Now here’s something he didn’t even tell his therapist, but somewhere between the training and the dying for him, Izuku had become more than just an annoying childhood rival. 

He doesn’t have a lot of memories from the time he lunged at Shigaraki, his body too hopped up on adrenaline to remember jack shit. Just one crystal clear goal: He needed to buy more time for Izuku. He knew they were fucked the moment Izuku was portaled to the wrong place. His head wasn’t so far up his own ass that he thought they stood a chance without One For All’s crystallized power. 

Somewhere along that train of thought he realised that his life was a small price to pay, as long as he could buy even five minutes for the person who could finish the job. So he threw himself head first into battle, because he knew Izuku would show up eventually, and he would win. Even if Katsuki wasn’t going to be there to see it. 

Later against all odds, he found himself once again standing on his own two feet. Every cell in his body burning from the strain of each step, each breath; Edgeshot pumping the shit out of the mess of bloodied meat that was his heart. 

Even then, it was the thought of Izuku that kept him putting one foot in front of the other. His irritating leech of a friend who had come to mean so much more was still out there fighting, and he’d be damned if he let him do it alone. 

Now that Katsuki thinks back to it, that might have been the first time he had thought of Izuku as a proper partner. Not something as simple as a friend or a rival, but an inseparable unit. 

Imagine coming to that dramatic conclusion. 

Imagine having it crushed into tiny pieces by one fucking word. 

Embers, fucking stupid. 

Katsuki had felt like yelling. If anyone should be emotionally wrecked in this situation, it wasn’t him. It should be Izuku who just gave up his entire life’s dream like the realest fucking hero this country had ever seen, and this self-sacrificing idiot still somehow managed to emerge the biggest loser. 

Deku the loser and Kacchan the winner, right? The blonde felt his heart ache from the thought, the weight of his guilt crunching and grinding his ribcage into bits. 

“Seriously… Just how have I been treating you until now?” He choked out between sobs. 

It didn’t make any fucking sense. That he was the one standing here in one piece, quirk intact, when he should have died , and Izuku is the one who had nothing left and was smiling like a fucking angel visiting Earth for the first time. The irony of their shared past wasn’t lost on him. Whichever cosmic overlord was writing this full-circle story could fuck right off. 

The words escaped his mouth in a blur. 

“I guess I thought… we’d be competing… and I’d be on your heels for the rest of our lives,” he confessed, but it wasn’t the whole truth. 

What he didn’t say was, he thought they would have more time. More time to push each other and to win as a team, as equals. More time to be heroes together. More time for Katsuki to make up for the world of hurt he put his childhood friend through.

A wobbly smile and unbearably sad look flitted across Izuku’s face. 

It seemed like he got the message anyway. 

He barely heard whatever All Might had to say after that, his eyes locked on the green-haired boy as a flash of understanding passed through them. And without uttering a single word between them, their relationship took another step.

As soon as Kacchan was cleared for rehab, the two immediately resumed their training together. Izuku didn’t even have to ask. 

Bright and early one morning, the blonde had busted into his dorm room with a gym bag in hand. Izuku had jolted awake in an instant, an irrepressible thrill shooting through his system once he understood what was going on. He may have face planted like a dumbass while trying to detangle himself from his bed, but the smirk on Kacchan’s face was worth it. 

To be honest, Izuku’s body still itched as he refrained from using One For All in training — trying to save the usage of his quirk for missions outside of school — but there was an unspeakable relief in being able to spar with his childhood friend again. 

He had trained with the rest of the class in the months after, everyone filled with a nervous energy that refused to dissipate after the war, but fighting side-by-side with Kacchan brought a familiarity that was so sweet it was painful. It reminded him of the times they worked on One For All together, stress testing his new quirks and growing a little bit more each day. 

In a way, what they were doing now wasn’t any different. Crippled and broken, they traded blows until it felt like their bodies belonged to them again. They ironed out each other's weaknesses with stubborn perssistence, pruning new mannerisms that had sprung up like weeds in a neglected garden. 

Kacchan had given him a nasty headbutt when he caught him shedding a tear over this, but Izuku couldn’t help it. Training together in the cold early mornings, before the world woke up and demanded even more out of them, was the closest feeling in his life to peace. 

Neither of them spoke about the inevitable, but they both know it. 

That one day Izuku will lose his quirk entirely. 

That Katsuki’s quirk might never be the same again. 

Maybe that’s what drags them to the school gym every morning. When most things in life were uncertain, neither of them were known to take things lying down. They would relearn, resculpt their bodies from the ground up if they had to. Every morning, they built a new line of defense against a world that demanded adults out of high schoolers. 

It reached a point where their classmates began noticing the change. 

The two had become inseparable, even when they were apart. It was as if they had a psychic link, Kaminari commented with a shudder. When one entered the room, the other knew instantly. They no longer needed to look at each other to catch a thrown drink can, or dodge a surprise smack to the head. But it was the scariest when they were paired together in combat. 

Long gone were the days of fighting each other on the battlefield. Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki were a well-oiled, well-trained ass-kicking unit; able to synchronize moves with nothing more than a nod, leaping to cover each other’s blindspots and shortcomings out of pure instinct. 

Even Aizawa-sensei had commented that they displayed a level of teamwork that surpassed some Pro Heroes out in the field. If he didn’t know any better, Izuku would think that their homeroom teacher was even a little proud of his most problematic kids. 

At the very least, he seemed to enjoy pairing the two together during training exercises; a familiar, sadistic grin on his face as the rest of the class groaned. 

Izuku was not-so-secretly pleased. 

Half a year goes by. Everything changes, but everything stays the same. 

The dorm system had become obsolete in this new era of peace, but nobody from Class 2-A could find it in their hearts to move out. Not for longer than a week to check in with their families, or the occasional weekend away, but they always gravitated back to each other.

The war had bonded them in ways they couldn’t even begin to describe. The all-knowing Principal Nezu had foreseen this, allowing the class to cope with the change in any way they needed. 

Katsuki found this mess of shitty teenage hormones absolutely fucking unbearable. 

Some of their classmates had actually started getting together. Who knew the threat of death would be such a good motivator? Even if Katsuki didn’t care for relationships, he wasn’t fucking blind. Hagakure and Ojiro he saw coming a mile away, while Jirou and Kaminari weren’t exactly a shocker. Puns fuckin’ intended.

But they could hardly judge each other for being teenagers, or for being clingy as hell for that matter. Katsuki himself had lost count of the number of times he woke up in a sweaty dog pile of limbs attached to the “Bakusquad”, a largely self-proclaimed nickname that Katsuki had no say in whatsoever. It’s like these fuckers took a page out of Izuku’s book or something.

Some nights it was just Shitty Hair and Pikachu, sometimes Tape, Pinky and even Ears. These losers pissed him off to no end, but dying must have turned him into a fucking softie, because he never once turned them away at his door.

Thankfully the rest of the class had enough self-preservation instincts not to bother him in the middle of the night; which is why it surprised him one night to find a soft mess of forest green curls standing outside his door, and not one of the usual suspects.

Katsuki only needed to take one look to know that something was wrong. 

He sidestepped wordlessly, observing Izuku’s face light up with mild curiosity as he stepped inside. Katsuki realised that this was the first time his friend had been in his room. 

If it wasn’t already clear, the two boys didn’t spend time with each other that way. The war may have bought them a lot of Katsuki and Izuku time, but they still had their own friend groups and schedules. As for all the time they did spend together, the entire class would attest that they aren’t exactly the most emotionally open pair. 

Katsuki thinks he used up his entire quota for the next decade after that dramatic apology in the rain, darkly picturesque as the city laid barren around them and the storm thundered heavily on their backs. Their classmates still weren’t done teasing him for proclaiming all that in front of everyone, but it’s not like he had a fuckin’ choice, alright? 

After all that, having practically died for Izuku and then breaking down by his hospital bed was just the shiny cherry on top of his sundae cone of embarrassment. 

He preferred the way they usually communicated. Through actions, not words. But as he watched the green-haired boy gently perch himself on the edge of his bed, far too cautious for someone who had been through life and death with him, he knew that too was going to change. 

“What the fuck did you want, Izuku?” Katsuki grumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep. 

“I don’t know if this is that serious—“ 

“Of course this shit’s serious if you woke me up at fucking—“ he glanced at his alarm clock. “—2am in the morning.” Izuku’s expression was harder to make out in the dark, but he knew the nerd was looking sheepish right now. It pissed him off. 

“Spit it out,” he threatened, but without any bite behind his words. He landed roughly on the bed next to Izuku. Jesus, he could feel the nerd’s nervous energy from here. 

“I can’t sleep,” he finally admitted lamely. 

“Obviously.” 

“I mean,” Izuku hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I kept dreaming of you.” 

“Gross.” 

“Shut up, not like that.” Katsuki could hear the smile in Izuku’s voice. That made him feel gross. “I mean, I can’t sleep because I keep seeing you de… dead.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I mean, I didn’t die,” he offered, not knowing what else to say to that. Izuku properly laughs this time, and Katsuki feels a little insulted. 

“Is that the best you got?” The nerd dared to tease him.

“Shut the fuck up. You know I hate this… talking about feelings and shit.” 

“I know, Kacchan.” He muttered, his voice sounding disgustingly fond. “I don’t know what to say, honestly. I tried sleeping but I just couldn’t. I had to come see for myself that you were alive.”

“This the first time?”

“N-no,” he stammered out. “Just the first time I came to see you.”

Katsuki groaned, lying back onto his bed with his arms tucked under his head. “You idiot. What the fuck did I say about dealing with things by yourself?” He barked exasperatedly. 

“I know , Kacchan.” He exhales shakily. “I don’t even know— I just feel like I’m stuck in fight or flight mode. Like any day now something is going to go wrong.”

This fight or flight thing, Katsuki could understand. Ever since the war began, ever since Izuku left them with only a shitty note for an excuse, he found he couldn’t rest easy without doing a headcount of all the stupid extras before heading to bed each night. He hated how much peace it brought him, how much it helped keep the guilt at bay. 

“I keep thinking about what I could have done right,” Izuku continued. “Maybe if I just tried harder, I could have saved Tenko and all the people we lost— If only I had sensed Himiko Toga, and didn’t get pulled into that stupid portal, maybe you wouldn’t have had to di—“ Izuku’s voice cuts off prematurely, as if even saying the word would hurt him. 

The blonde sighed, deep and resigned. ”You weren’t there. We erased all his shitty quirks and he was still too strong for all of us.” 

“Exactly, I wasn’t there—” 

“And it wasn’t your fuckin’ fault, was it, nerd?” He rubbed his palms into his eye sockets, his eyes strained from being awake way past his usual bedtime. “Ain’t the point anyway. Shigaraki— All For One— whoever the fuck was fuckin’ strong and I wasn’t strong enough. That’s that.” 

“But Kacchan, you’re amazing!”

“No, I’m not.” 

“But—”

“I have a fucked up arm, a half-working quirk, and a weak ass heart to prove that I ain’t all that. But I don’t regret it.” His eyes met with Izuku’s then, who had leaned down to look at him. “Dying, that is.” 

“Then what would I have done?” Izuku snapped suddenly, his voice rising above a whisper for a second. “How could I have lived if you had really—“

The green-haired boy seemed so small all of a sudden, his body curling into itself as he placed his face in his hands. 

“I was so fucking angry when I saw what they did to you,” he said in a tiny voice. Katsuki raised his eyebrows at the swear word. “If it weren’t for Lemillion, I think I would have lost my mind there and then.” 

Katsuki tried not to think too hard about the connotation behind the confession.  

“Oi, if you had done that, I would have risen from my grave to kick you in the ass.” 

Izuku huffed in amusement. 

“The fuck? You think I’m joking?” Katsuki sat up, challenging his childhood friend to meet his stare. “I knew you could beat that dickwad and we couldn’t, so I did what I could and bought you some time. We were fighting the biggest supervillain of all time, idiot. This shit happens.” 

Izuku met his eyes with an uncharacteristically harsh look that sent a shiver down his spine, even in the dim light. “I would have never forgiven myself if you had died.” 

“I know, shithead. And I didn’t die, did I?” Katsuki shot back at him. 

“Yeah,” he whispered. Only then, his gaze seemed to melt and his posture softened.

Katsuki leaned back onto his mattress, not breaking eye contact. His mind unwillingly flicked back to the memory of a particularly chaotic morning; of content, peaceful smiles cuddled against his chest before he expelled them from his room with a shout that was definitely not safe for his heart monitor. 

Fuck. He was going to regret this. 

He shuffled around the mattress until he was back in sleeping position, his eyes glaring a hole into the wall. “C’mere,” he patted the empty side of his bed. 

“Wha—?“ the nerd squeaked. 

“It might help you sleep, or whatever. I ain’t saying this twice,” he added as an afterthought, “or offering it twice.” 

After an unbearably long period of silence, long enough to make him think Izuku was just going to leave after Katsuki had embarrassed himself in front of him again , he felt his mattress shift as the other boy laid down next to him. 

Soft curls tickled his exposed neck. 

“Thank you, Kacchan.” 

“You’re fuckin’ welcome.” He muttered, ignoring the brief uptick in his heart monitor. 

Over the course of the night, they must have gotten more comfortable because Katsuki woke up to the soft sensation of Izuku’s face nuzzling against his chest, his scarred arms wrapped gently around his waist. If it was anyone else, Katsuki would have kicked them out of bed by now. But with his partner-in-crime resting so peacefully in his arms, he felt an unfamiliar sense of calm wash over him. 

If they skipped training that morning, neither of them spoke about it. They preferred actions over words, anyway.

Chapter Text

Class 2-A was now 3-A, and Katsuki was exactly where he dreamed he would be as a kid.

Well, not entirely. 

He was a lot more scarred than he thought he would be, the aftermath of the war permanently painting a row of diamonds across his cheek. He also wasn’t class president, the honor reserved to Four Eyes and Pony-Tail Chick for three years in a row. His quirk was no longer as powerful as it used to be either, but he regained more control over his right hand with every day that passed. 

But some things were exactly like he imagined. He was part of UA’s Big Three. He was consistently at the top of his class. He was interning with Best Jeanist, the current Number #1 Pro Hero in Japan. Plus, he was doing it all alongside his best friend. 

(And Icy-Hot was there too, whatever.)

The best friend part was still new. It had taken a lot of internal turmoil for him to come to terms with this, but over the past year, the freckled nerd had wormed his way back into his life in a big way. It reached a point where the old hag wouldn’t shut up about it every time he visited home, yapping on and on about how nostalgic it was to watch them spend time together again. 

Don’t get him wrong, Katsuki still wasn’t one of those sappy losers who would go around calling Izuku his best friend. But he didn’t exactly mind it when the green-haired boy told others on his behalf. Shitty Hair had the cheek to call it character development. What a dick. 

Back to being the new Big Three. It felt fucking awesome. 

He could do without the harassment from overenthusiastic juniors, or the frankly disgusting amount of love confessions, or the paparazzi dedicated to “documenting” the former war heroes every time they stepped outside of UA; but every time a junior not-so-subtly watched his back with gleaming, reverent eyes, he felt an old sense of pride flow through his veins. 

Yeah, third year Bakugou Katsuki was pretty fucking awesome. 

He was in such a good mood these days, he even felt excitement over the menial tasks Aizawa-sensei had them doing. Like teaching the fresh meat in Year 1 about their upcoming work studies. 

The Big Three squared up in front of the gaggle of first year students, observing closely as expressions varied between nervous and overconfident. His tongue danced along the edge of his canines in glee as his eyes raked through the crowd, taking too much pride in the way most of them broke eye contact with him in fear. 

“Don’t scare them too much, Kacchan.” Izuku reprimanded, but his grin betrayed his own excitement for the impending battle. They practiced feigned ignorance at the questioning whispers of ‘Kacchan?’ from the back of the room. 

“Eh, how else are they going to learn?” He grinned back. 

“Aizawa-sensei told us not to break any bones.” Todoroki piped up from behind them, rolling back his sleeves and getting into a battle stance. They had taken inspiration from their weirdest senpai and brought the first year classes out to the gym for a good ol’ sparring session. 

Fight us and see how much difference it makes to have real-world experience , Izuku had proclaimed proudly, as if their year hadn’t survived a whole ass war. These snot-nosed brats didn’t stand a chance. 

“Sure, whatever, loser.” Katsuki replied as he stretched, flexing out the numbness in his right arm. “Now, which of you brats wants to lose to me first?” 

A handful of the bravest students launched at him before the question left his mouth. Pretty good , he thought, but not good enough . He side-stepped their obvious advances, letting loose a series of controlled explosions to their backs, whacking them down like moles. He wasn’t going all out on them, of course, but it still felt cathartic to see how far they’d come in just three years. 

Out of the corner of his eye, a patch of ice spread like wildfire across the gymnasium floor, freezing most of the students in place. Icy-Hot hadn’t pulled that move in ages, too slow for the types of missions they were being sent on these days, but it seemed to work just fine on these brats. 

The students in the back had a little heads up, dodging Todoroki’s attack just in time… right into Izuku’s warpath. Even without the telltale crackling energy signalling his quirk, the final member of the Big Three was an absolute fucking sight to behold. He seemed to dance across the battlefield, demonstrating a new agility in combat that didn’t need to rely on his quirk to be deadly. Every part of his body was a refined weapon, each movement calculated to a tee. 

As Katsuki took down his final student, he found his eyes instinctually seeking out Izuku; watching as he deftly dodged attacks from multiple directions, gracefully chaining into a move that took out two students at once. 

The green-haired menace had decided to forgo the usual UA tracksuit for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, preferring the mobility it granted him in combat. All it did was draw attention to the definition in his calves and thighs, the practiced flex of his muscles as he fought without expending his quirk.  

Don’t scare them, Kacchan? He could laugh. Izuku didn’t seem to realise how terrifying he was, his trademark sunshine smile not wavering for a single second as he quickly worked his way through the crowd of students. All without using a quirk. Holy shit. 

“Dude. You’re whipped.” Todoroki commented next to him, a rare smirk gracing his face. 

“What the fu— Who the fuck even taught you that word?!” Katsuki sputtered, shocked out of his one-sided staring contest. 

“Ashido.” 

“That pink shithead.”

“Am I wrong, though?” He raised one eyebrow, his voice as monotone as ever. 

“What the fuck! Of course you’re wrong!” He snapped. “A guy can’t even look at someone fighting without a whole ass romantic subplot?!” 

That was something else that was new. The shippers. Katsuki reluctantly had the information forced onto him when the umpteenth group of first years couldn’t stop giggling at him and Izuku having lunch together. Like two normal friends who needed sustenance in the middle of the day like normal fucking people. His patience had snapped, and he had a classic Bakugou Katsuki™ flare up in the middle of the cafeteria.

That was when Raccoon Eyes had pulled him into their classroom and explained to him, much too enthusiastically, that all the excitement came from their juniors wanting to see Katsuki and Izuku together. Romantically. 

She thought it was cute. He thought the world was going to shit. His face had burned crimson in a matter of seconds, a hot mix of embarrassment and anger. Fuck his life. Fuck this school. Fuck his heart monitor. Didn’t people have anything better to do with their time?!

The only person who could calm him down after that was Izuku, and that didn’t exactly help the allegations. Class 3-A still brought up the Hulk and Black Widow jokes to this day, and it made Katsuki want to off them all and then himself.

“It’s not just someone though, is it? It’s Midoriya.” Todoroki’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“No shit,” the blonde muttered, eyes snapping back to Izuku as he reached out his hand to help one of the first years to their feet. Even from this distance, he spotted a faint blush on the young student’s cheeks. Gross. 

“You know it wouldn’t be the end of the world, if you dated.” 

“You’re saying that like I don’t have a fucking say in this.” 

“No, I’m just saying I see the way you look at him.” The calm hero-in-training shrugged, walking away before Katsuki could even think up a retort. 

Big Three be damned. He fucking hated this guy. 

It was their third year and Izuku finally felt entitled to a normal, high school life again. 

With financial aid and welfare coming in from nations around the world, Japan bounced back from the war in record time. Homes were restored, roads were rebuilt, places of business reopened, and families were relocated and moved home safely with a pat on the back. 

Things went back to normal so quickly that Izuku had to do a double take the first time he arrested a criminal for petty theft. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t saving someone — or in fact, the world — from mortal peril. Now his biggest concern was stopping a thief who had the misfortune of running into him on his weekend grocery run. 

Some days it almost felt like the war never happened to their country, but he still noticed the remnants it left behind in its citizens. Behind the shiny new windows and fresh coats of paint, he saw the warm look in people’s eyes when they recognised him in public. He noticed the gentler way people talked to each other, like everyone had a little more kindness to spare. 

Sometimes the guilt of not being able to save everyone still ate at him, the hero’s curse of perfectionism, but he couldn’t deny that the world had changed for the better. 

Izuku saw it firsthand during the first few weeks of restoration efforts, a young child bloodied and dirty wandering onto the busy sidewalk. His first instinct was to jump into action, but miraculously, someone else had reached out their hand first. 

An older lady, one of the victims whose house had been devastated in the wake of the battle, was bending to wipe the tears from the child’s eyes. As he approached the pair, Ochako following closely behind, he heard the tail end of her sentence: “... Granny is here for you.” 

Izuku wanted to bawl on the spot. Ochako had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, a similar teary smile on her face. 

That was another thing that was different now. Where once there was shy admiration, and maybe even an inkling of romance, there was now true kinship between him and the anti-gravity heroine. It had taken a war for Izuku to realise how similar they were as people, bonding over their dilemma towards Tenko and Himiko, then sharing in grief over two people the world was more than happy to lose. 

If he had to spend the rest of his life changing the way the world thought about Heroes and Villains, at least he knew Uraraka Ochako would be right there with him. 

As the embers of One For All steadily grew weaker throughout their third year, it was Ochako who brought up the idea of teaching. It made sense. He wanted to keep making a difference, and what made a bigger difference than guiding the next generation of heroes?

When he brought up the same idea to Kacchan, they had their first big argument since becoming best friends again. Izuku had already come to terms with the reality that being a Pro Hero was out of the picture. He was even starting to warm up to the idea of becoming an educator, but his closest friend’s blind insistence drove a stake through his heart. 

“I’ll protect you,” Kacchan had argued. “We’ll be a hero duo. We’ll prove everyone wrong.” 

There was a time when those words would have made Izuku the happiest person in the world, but now he knew he’d be resigning his friend to a miserable fate. 

Hero society worked on the basis of regulating quirk usage for law enforcement. A quirkless Pro Hero was not only unprecedented, but dangerous. It didn’t matter if he could bench press All Might in his prime, or that he could hold his own pretty well in a fight, it was still like bringing a knife to a gunfight. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his childhood friend in that moment, knowing those piercing ruby eyes could drag out truths that he wasn’t even ready to think about, much less confront. 

“Become Number #1,” he had said instead. No, demanded . “For the both of us.”

“Fuck— l just—” The blonde let loose a string of curses under his breath, his muttering sounding eerily similar to Izuku’s trademark habit. “Fine. I’ll do it.” 

Izuku whipped his head back to stare at his friend in shock, not expecting him to agree. The Kacchan from two years ago would have rather died on that hill than back down, but he supposed plenty had changed in the last two years.

“But you better watch me.” He continued, thumping his chest with a look of serious determination.

Izuku grinned. As if that was ever going to change. 

“I will, Kacchan. I’ll be Dynamight’s biggest fan!” 

“You’re a fuckin’ embarrassment, that’s what.” Kacchan shoved his head playfully, a tinge of red on his cheeks. 

When Izuku decided it was time to visit All Might and Aizawa-sensei to explore options for his future, Kacchan was the first to volunteer. One of the two adults was a little more shocked than the other, Aizawa sheepishly confessing that he had already seen this coming. He admitted to discussing the matter with Principal Nezu privately and even had a job offer prepared. All Izuku had to do was take the necessary teaching exams. 

He didn’t need to say what everyone already knew. That Izuku’s sacrifice had the entire country forever in his debt. That the Pro Heroes felt like they had selfishly robbed a young, promising hero of his lifelong dream. That UA, the place that was supposed to protect him and failed, owed him at least this much. 

Instead, he said something that had Izuku beaming. 

“You’d be good at it, kid.” 

“Fuck yeah, he would.” Kacchan echoed, ignoring the disapproving glance from their homeroom teacher over his choice of words. 

All Might’s reaction was a little different, immediately waxing poetic about his one and only prodigy following in his footsteps albeit 40 years too soon. He shared that he, too, had a difficult journey of acceptance once he gave up One For All. Even though he had initially gone into teaching to find his successor, he had come to find fulfillment in the short time he had this job. 

He prayed, in the overdramatic fashion befitting the former Symbol of Peace, that Izuku would find the same fulfillment from life no matter where he landed. 

So halfway through their final year, with his teachers’ blessing, Izuku made his decision. He would enjoy his final few months as a student, before taking the teaching exam and joining UA’s faculty after graduation. His path would split away from his friends, who would go on to become sidekicks and establish their own agencies as Pro Heroes. 

He tried his best to ignore how much his choice felt like a death march. 

Kacchan, to his credit, had been nothing but supportive after their initial argument. It made the harder parts of his decision easier to ignore. Together with Ochako, the three of them looked into teaching qualifications and exams, schooling him on what he needed to prepare and which papers he needed to take. Somewhere along the lines, his two closest friends had even developed a weird not-quite-friendship. 

Izuku supposed they had always held mutual respect for each other since the events of the UA Sports Festival in their first year. But over time, that shared respect had developed into a sort of friendly rivalry.

He thinks he’ll never get used to the kind-mannered Uraraka mercilessly ribbing into Kacchan, or his best friend being comfortable enough to play-fight with the girl as they bickered. But he was happy to see his two friends get along in their own way. 

The thought occurred to him that they might end up together one day, although he didn’t know why it sent a twinge of pain to his heart. And just like every other painful feeling that popped into his mind these days, he swallowed it down without giving it a second thought. 

The final embers of One For All disappeared right before graduation; not with a bang, but with a whimper. 

Kacchan was there with him when it happened. They were on patrol together when a villain raced past them on a motorbike, nothing more than a simple snatch thief. It would have been so easy for Izuku to catch up to the villain and arrest him, but when he flexed his calves and waited for the telltale crackle of One For All, he was met with complete silence. 

Izuku had a feeling about it this morning. Some days he woke up and the embers barely flickered within him. He had once tried explaining the sensation to his classmates, but it was hard to describe the feeling of being perpetually half-cup empty. 

His brain already felt too quiet these days, too used to the phantom voices of the previous wielders rattling inside his skull, but losing One For All felt different. It felt like he was losing something deeper. His soul, maybe? No, that wasn’t right. It felt more like it was unravelling a part of his physical being.

It was ironic that Izuku could become so attached to something he never truly had to begin with. It had only been a year, and yet, One For All had become as much a part of him as his right hand. 

Ever since he gave it up, he had to actively suppress using his quirk for menial things; hoping to reserve it for occasions that mattered a little more than helping his mum clean the roof gutters without using a ladder. But no matter how much caution he practiced, he knew this day was inevitable. 

As he helplessly watched the villain escape his sight, the shimmer and smoke of Kacchan’s quirk firing off in hot pursuit, he found himself feeling strangely calm about it all. He knew this would happen eventually. He had prepared for this for months. He could get through this. He would get through this. 

It was only when Kacchan finally returned to his side, his expression painted in nothing but concern, that Izuku felt his defenses crack. 

“I-It happened.” He hated how his voice wavered.

“Izuku…” Kacchan reached out to touch him, eyes darkening in understanding.

“Don’t— Don’t w-worry, I’m fi—” Izuku pushed him away with one hand, the other wiping furiously at the tears that were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want it to happen like this. He was going to be fine , damn it. 

“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re fine,” the blonde read his mind like always, closing the short distance between them to pull him into a tight embrace. 

They were in the middle of a crowded street, but all he could hear was the faint thumping of the taller boy’s heart. He felt Kacchan rest a heavy but comforting weight on the top of his curls, and the overwhelming wave of relief and safety was enough for Izuku to finally let go. 

His shoulders shook violently as tears streamed down his cheeks, his mind racing madly between a million thoughts and none at all. He could hardly feel the empty void that One For All left behind for all the overwhelming pain constricting his chest, choking out his every breath and causing him to hiccup desperately for air. 

His arms reached up to grab onto the back of Kacchan’s hero costume, trying his best to ground himself back in reality, when he felt the pair of solid arms tighten their hold on him. He barely registered the hand softly combing through his curls, or the fingers reaching up to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks.

After what felt like forever, Izuku’s senses began to return to his body. The first thing he registered was the worried look on his best friend’s face, almost unrecognizable without his trademark grumpiness. 

The next was the arm wrapped around the side of his body, half supporting his weight but mostly just holding him close. Their sides pressed together warmly as Kacchan faced forward like a hero, his lips tightening into a grim line as he quietly guided them back to the Best Jeanist agency building. Work was definitely done for the day. 

The next thing he knew, he was being handed a piping cup of tea and sat in front of the Number #1 hero. Slowly, he recounted what happened while they were out on patrol. Kacchan stood by his side the entire time to provide any missing details, but frankly, there wasn’t much to say. 

There were no dramatics. No grand fanfare. No bloodied fist raised to the sky in triumph. One For All had entered his life with a thunderous roar, but when its time was up, it slipped through his fingers as quietly as grains of sand. 

Best Jeanist sent them home early with a few gentle words and a large, warm hug. Whatever conversations they needed to have about his future could come later. For now, Izuku needed rest. 

As the pair made their way down the skyscraper, his fingers sought out his best friend’s and it was answered with a small squeeze. 

“Y’sure you want to go back to the dorm?” Kacchan asked, as gently as he had ever heard him. 

“I’m— Yeah, I want to.” Izuku steeled his resolve. He was feeling a lot calmer now. “I think they deserve to know, after all the support they’ve given me these past few years.” 

“Fuck ‘em. We can go home to Auntie Inko and spend the weekend without these extras. You don’t have to talk about this today.” The blonde grumbled, before adding on a question of consent. “If you want, that is.”  

“No, I’d rather just get this over with.” 

Kacchan remained quiet for a second. “If you’re sure.” 

“Just one thing—“ 

He raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. Izuku felt the numbed, broken engine of his heart rev into motion. 

“Stay with me while I do it?”

“I thought you gave up your quirk, not your brains. ‘Course I’ll be there, dumbass.” Kacchan huffed, while the green-haired boy stared at him incredulously. He even had the audacity to grin. “What? Too soon?” 

“Too soon, dumbass .” Izuku shot back, but he couldn’t help cracking a small smile. 

They walked most of the way back to UA, opting to take the long route to give time for their new reality to sink in. The sun began to set sometime during their journey, bathing the world around them in shades of orange and crimson. Kacchan remained uncharacteristically silent, and Izuku found himself slipping into a whirlpool of his own thoughts and memories.

He thought about his first meeting with All Might, the way his body moved without thinking when he saw Kacchan in danger. About clearing Takoba Beach right before the entrance exam, the first time he’d ever felt complete and utter triumph. About the relief and happiness he felt when he was accepted into UA, how Ochako’s kind gesture was the nicest thing a stranger had ever done for him.

He thought about Tenko. About Kacchan getting kidnapped. About All Might using up his final embers in Kamino. He thought about saving Kota and Eri-chan. About losing Sir Nighteye. He thought about how he was saved by his classmates in the rain and rubble of the vacant city. And he thought back to all the times he made his mother cry. 

He relived all the trials and tribulations he had surmounted to get to this point, then his mind drifted to the boy next to him; whose fingers were laced so tightly around his own, it was like he was afraid that if he eased up even a little, Izuku would fade into mist and float away. 

Most importantly, he thought about Class 3-A. Still referred to as Class 1-A by the public and media. These were the heroes-in-training who had been with him through hell and back. These were the friends he trusted with his life, his death, and then some. 

There was a tiny, almost insignificant part of him that worried they would begin treating him differently once they knew. 

He already had two school experiences as a quirkless student and neither of them were pleasant. Even though he had long overcome the bad memories from his childhood. Even though, logically, he knew that his fellow classmates would never treat him that way. He still found a long dormant part of his brain bracing for the worst possible outcome. 

But before they could even reach the steps of the dorm, the front doors slammed open to reveal one bubbly Uraraka Ochako. She flashed a wide, cheeky grin at their joined hands and began to speak with nothing but mirth in her voice.

“Oho, let’s see what we have here—“ Her gleeful eyes traveled up from their hands to Izuku’s expression and her sentence immediately died in her throat. 

She flashed a panicked look at the other boy, who answered silently with a single nod. 

“I-I’ll get the others,” she gulped. 

“Thank you,” Katsuki mumbled, and Izuku couldn’t even find it within him to be shocked at the blonde’s polite tone. He simply allowed himself to be ferried to the center of the common room and sat between his two closest friends, each one holding his hand while the room quickly filled with people. 

In front of all his peers who had seen him at his best and worst, Izuku took a moment to swallow his fear and shakily retold the events that happened that day. 

For the longest minute in the world, there was nothing but deafening silence and horrified looks. Izuku thought for a split second that his worst fears had come true, that things would forever be changed between him and the rest of Class 3-A; but as soon as the first classmate leaped at him for a group hug, their sobs deafening in his ears, he knew that everything was going to be alright. 

Eventually someone pulled out the emergency snack reserves and the entire dorm pooled their blankets and pillows in the common area. Izuku and Katsuki were practically forced onto the same tiny couch and drowned in blankets before they put on a movie. Izuku’s favourite.

The usually explosive blonde held him close the entire night, their bodies glued to each other like they were four again. Izuku finds a comfort that feels like home in Kacchan’s warm touch. Probably a side effect of his quirk, he sleepily filed that information away for later. Right now, surrounded by a roomful of people he loved, he didn’t feel like thinking too much about anything. 

As he finally succumbed to sleep, Izuku thought about how blessed he was for his lot in life. 

Class 3-A was graduating from UA, and Katsuki was exactly where he dreamed he would be as a kid.

He was graduating top of his class, heading off to a secured sidekick position with the Number #1 Pro Hero in the country. He already had a growing fanbase among the public, and he adored the attention as much as it annoyed the living hell out of him. He even had a merchandise line in the works, which made perfect sense, because he was an absolute legend in the making. 

Sure, the diamond-shaped scars on his cheek were never going to fade. He also wasn’t the graduates’ representative for their year, the honour going unanimously to Shitty Glasses. His quirk was no longer as powerful as it used to be either, but he climbed closer to his peak with every day that passed. 

Above all, he was proud to have — ugh — loving parents, and — double ugh — trusted friends and schoolmates that he could count on when things got tough. 

(And Icy-Hot was there too, whatever.)

Somewhere in the middle of this giant win-win equation that was Bakugou Katsuki’s life, there was only one thing missing: Midoriya Izuku. 

As Four Eyes wrapped up his speech and Katsuki exploded onto the stage with that dickhead from Class 3-B, school jackets flapping in the wind for one final time, his eyes immediately sought out Izuku in the crowd. His facial scar had healed a little over the months and his haircut was shorter, but he was still the same freckled little nerd he’d known all his life. Quirkless and all.

When Izuku locked eyes with him, he beamed like the sun was shining out of his ass, and Katsuki couldn’t make it out from this distance, but he knew that idiot was probably happy-crying up a storm.

Their relationship that was, frankly, complicated to begin with had gotten even more complicated in a hurry. Katsuki wasn’t known to be the most emotionally open person, but everyone could see that Izuku losing his quirk affected him as much as it did the former-future Symbol of Peace. As if the final barrier between them had faded together with the embers, the two became virtually inseparable in their final weeks at UA. 

Time seemed to rewind their relationship back to the beginning. When they were two children at the start of their entire lives, with nothing to do with their time except gush about All Might and play by the creek with their friends. Back to the days when their mothers couldn’t pry them away from each other even by force. Back before his quirk manifested, and Izuku’s didn’t, and everything went tits up. 

Now if you wanted to look for Izuku, you’d follow the sound of Katsuki’s voice. If the two weren’t training together, they were hanging out in their rooms playing video games. They prepped meals together and studied together, and sometimes even fell asleep side by side; much to the delight of everyone snapping proof for future blackmail. 

And then there was the physical contact. Izuku had always been a touch-starved little gremlin, meaning Katsuki had literal childhood albums filled with pictures upon pictures of them as toddlers, holding hands and cuddling each other to sleep. When the old hag was in a particularly torturous mood, she had the habit of pulling out those old pictures to tease her only son. He used to hate those fucking albums. 

But now as he rejoined the rest of his class for group pictures, the heavy bass of Present Mic’s DJ set  thumping in the background, he didn’t even protest as Izuku casually tucked his hand around his waist. Katsuki idly wondered if he was just fucked in the head. 

Maybe this was all a subconscious atonement for his past sins, or maybe a part of him looked down on the quirkless boy because he felt responsible for him. 

Or maybe, just maybe, in his tiny emotionally constipated heart, hardened and wounded by rage over the years, there was a simpler truth that he was too afraid to admit. Because it made him feel horrifyingly, disgustingly soft . That he simply enjoyed being in Izuku’s company. 

Katsuki could drown out the rest of the world over the feeling of Izuku’s thumb tracing idle shapes along his waistline, but today’s grand occasion was a stark reminder that it wasn’t meant to last. 

Sure, they still lived in the same neighborhood. Their parents were still friends. They might bump into each other at the neighborhood grocery store or at work events, and he supposed they could make plans to hangout every weekend or so. But it wasn’t the same as living in the dorms together, seeing each other first thing every morning and last thing every night. 

Again and again, it seemed like the world couldn’t grant Katsuki enough time. Not enough time to atone. Not enough time to heal. Not enough time to figure out what the fuck was going on between him and his best friend who had come to mean so much more before the world pulled them apart, again. 

The reality was, Katsuki and the rest of Class 3-A were leaving for the dazzling stage of Pro Heroes, and Izuku would remain right here in UA. Even if the shitty nerd put on a brave face, acting as if he was content with the cards life had dealt him, Katsuki knew better. 

He saw the way his eyes trailed wistfully after the others as he sat out of quirk training. He noticed how his body sometimes tensed out of reflex before his mind caught up to the present. Or the sad, faraway look on his face when he thought no one was watching; Katsuki recognised it as the same sad look he had caused in the past. He suddenly felt like his stomach was being wrung inside out. 

“—you okay, Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice snapped him out of it. The nerd had tilted to get a closer look at the blonde, his curious eyes too fucking close to his face right now. Much to his mortification, Katsuki felt a slow blush crawl up the side of his neck.  

“Yeah, loser. I’m fine,” he muttered, electing to ignore the teasing looks from the rest of his classmates. He would explode all of them for that later. “You?” 

The green-haired boy blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting to be asked anything in return. 

“I’m alright. Just thinking.” He paused, before adding on. “It’s kind of funny, you know. It all came full circle. I applied for UA when I was quirkless, and now I’m graduating from UA quirkless. It just feels like everything that happened in between was one big, crazy dream.”

There he was again. Going on about his dream like it was already over when it had barely begun. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Izuku. You’re more of a hero quirkless than all of these quirked fuckers combined.” Even me , he added in his head. “If you wanted to become a hero, you know we would all support you. Hell, I think some of these crazy dipshits would burn down the entire Hero Commission building if you asked.” 

The boy let out a small chuckle in response. 

“What? They wouldn’t burn down a fucking building for me .” He grumbled, secretly relishing in the smile that formed on his best friend’s face. He could feel his expression morphing into something horribly fond. 

“You know what I’m going to miss the most, though?” Izuku asked quietly. 

“What?” 

“You.” 

His heart stopped. “...Idiot. You know I literally live a block down from your house, right?” 

“I know.” Izuku’s head landed softly on his shoulder and Katsuki felt his sick, wounded heart start back up again. “But I’m just so used to being around you and training with you. I know we could probably get a gym schedule going or something, but soon you’ll be busy being a sidekick with Jeanist and then I’ll start working at UA. I don’t know if our schedules will sync up anymore, and now that I think about it, it’s going to be so weird to have Aizawa-sensei as my colleague—”

As the nerd continued down his muttering spiral, Katsuki felt an unspeakable weightlessness. Every single one of his fears was being spoken outloud and echoed, and suddenly, the solution that evaded him for weeks seemed to stare him in the face. Like he was the dumbass for not realising it sooner. 

“So move in with me, then,” he interrupted. 

Izuku stopped mid-ramble, staring at Katsuki like he had gone insane. “Wha— with your parents? I mean, how would that even work—” 

“No, idiot. Let’s get our own place. We can be roommates.” 

He watched as a familiar spark reentered the boy’s eyes, his body detaching from Katsuki’s for a moment as he began to bounce with excitement. 

“Y-yes! Of course, Kacchan!” 

As Izuku immediately began formulating plans for telling their parents, when they should go apartment shopping, and how they should display their All Might collection, Katsuki felt on top of the fucking world. 

“Awwww, he said yes!” Uraraka yelled from somewhere in the crowd. At that, everyone around them collectively lost it. 

“Shut the fuck up, Round Face!”

Chapter Text

From their first day at kindergarten, to their first apartment together. 

It was official. Katsuki and Izuku couldn’t get rid of each other even if they tried. 

It had taken longer than expected, five or six months of their tumultuous entry into adulthood, but they finally moved into their new place. It was a small, cozy apartment with plenty of “personality” (translation: plumbing issues) located in a “safe neighbourhood” (translation: crime rates went down significantly after the two war heroes who defeated All For One moved in). 

Most importantly, their tiny apartment was positioned almost equidistant from Best Jeanist’s agency and UA, twenty minutes by train from their childhood homes if their parents ever missed them, and five minutes walk from the nearest 24-hour convenience store. Izuku fell in love the moment he saw it, and Katsuki couldn’t say no.

But as two young adults with nothing to their names except for a legacy — that didn’t fuckin’ pay royalties, by the way — they could barely afford the place as is. 

That was when the old hag swooped in to save their asses from a hefty downpayment, cackling while saying it was a gift to Izuku for “taking my shitty brat off my hands”. The double meaning wasn’t lost on Katsuki. She was acting as if she was shipping her only son off to get married, and his eyes had rolled so far back into his skull, it’s a miracle they ever snapped back into place.

Moving in was the tougher part. Despite sharing the same brain cells for most things, Katsuki and Izuku were still very different people. One look at their dorm rooms back at UA and you’d get the idea. While Izuku’s room looked like an All Might novelty store had exploded in it, Katsuki’s room was relatively normal save for a few All Might and heavy metal rock posters hanging from his walls. 

After a fierce debate that may or may not have ended in a wrestling match, they finally settled on something that worked for the both of them. 

Izuku agreed not to turn their apartment into an All Might museum, if Katsuki didn’t decorate it with skulls and other death symbolisms. Katsuki got full control over the kitchen, as long as Izuku got to sneak in a few hero merchandise mugs from his collection. And if the nerd decided to display his limited-edition Dynamight merchandise around the living room, well, he didn’t have a problem with that. 

It was a little all over the place, definitely not making it into the next edition of Heroes Digest, but it was starting to feel like home. 

They fell into a routine almost too easily. Some things felt just like high school; they would wake up together at dawn and go for a jog in the nearby park, grocery shop on the walk back, bicker as they cooked meals together, and they made it a point to eat together whenever they could. 

Their jobs were the newest addition to the schedule. It had taken no time at all for Izuku to get his teaching certification, which meant you were looking at UA’s newest first year homeroom teacher. Meanwhile, Katsuki was still adjusting to ramped up responsibilities as he transitioned from student intern to full-time Pro Hero at the Best Jeanist agency. 

Things were different, but they were comfortable. And it made Katsuki realise something real quick. 

Living in a dorm together was completely different from living alone. There were no more classmates, no more dorm rules to act as a buffer between them. It was just comfortable, domestic companionship all the goddamn time and every day felt more heart-wrenchingly intimate than the last.

Katsuki felt like he was losing his fucking mind.  

Even worse, he was a fucking hypocrite. Just a few months ago he had been bitching about not having enough time to figure things out with Izuku, but now that he had arguably all the time in the world, he found himself reduced to silent contentment as their legs tangled up with each other on their tiny ass couch. 

He was a hypocrite and a coward, and practically the entire class knew it.

“Only you two would act like a married couple without actually being together yet,” Uraraka rolled her eyes. Their class had made it a point to meet up at least once a month. Their schedules were pretty busy as Pro Heroes, so it was rare that everyone could make it, but it was nice to see a handful of familiar faces at the end of every month. 

Katsuki had the misfortune of being stuck in a conversation with Round Face over here. This was the last time he would arrive at one of these things early. 

The nerd wasn’t even here to save him from this awkward conversation because he was still stuck grading assignments at UA. Katsuki swore the next time he saw Aizawa that bastard, he was going to lay one on him.

“Fuck off. You know he’s busy with his job right now.” 

“Yeah. And the next time you want to find a better excuse, maybe you should look up your gay ass.” 

Katsuki wasn’t sure when Uraraka “Round Face” Ochako had become his fucking relationship counsellor, but it probably happened somewhere between the time he fought her during their Year 1 Sports Festival and after he discovered that Uraraka had more balls than the rest of the class combined. Turns out she also had the mouth to match it after a few drinks, and they say the rest is history. 

When she started joining Katsuki and Izuku during their hangouts, the heroine had put two and two together fairly quickly. She had called it a woman’s intuition, but Katsuki called it being a nosy bitch. He even said as much to her face, but she only stuck out her tongue at him and laughed. 

Uraraka had the rare pleasure of being one of the people on Planet Earth that he couldn’t win against. Of course, Katsuki was pretty sure she would lose in a hot minute if they ever picked a fist fight, but in the realm of mental battles, Uraraka danced giddy circles around the explosive blonde until it drove him clinically insane. 

He would never again underestimate a woman’s ability to worm out information, somehow managing to get him to confess things he’d never confessed to anyone before; albeit in the roundabout way he admitted to anything vulnerable in his life, between copious amounts of yelling and cursing. 

Unfortunately for him, she was an expert in reading between the lines, and had turned it into her life’s mission to make sure Katsuki would never live this down. 

“Tell me again how your place only has one bed?” She batted her eyelids innocently. 

“Shut the fuck up. So we just started working and we’re poor as balls, what of it?” 

“Riiiiiiight.” 

“I was planning to sleep on the couch!” Katsuki exploded in self-defense. 

“And how did that work out for you?” She raised her eyebrows. She had him there. 

“Izuku forced me to sleep in bed with him,” he muttered under his breath. 

Uraraka cackled in a way that sent shivers down his spine. It reminded him of his mother. Jesus, it was like he was a magnet for meddling women. 

The best thing about all of this was Izuku — clingy, touch-starved, innocent Izuku — seemed to remain blissfully unaware of his roommate’s increasingly complicated feelings. He couldn’t blame the guy for having more important things on his mind, but sometimes Katsuki felt like he was being so stupidly obvious, only to realise Izuku simply hadn’t noticed anything. 

Maybe this worked out for the best. After all, Katsuki was currently preoccupied with something more important. It definitely wasn’t because the thought of doing anything about his feelings made him want to throw up. Nothing like that.

“Whatcha laughing about?” Shitty Hair’s voice boomed over his shoulder, just as Katsuki felt a firm hand clap him across the back. Kirishima shot a quick look between the blonde’s exasperated face and Uraraka wiping tears from her eyes. 

“Ah, the usual I see.” It was insulting how quickly he got it. “You should tell Midoriya about your feelings, man. It’s not very manly to keep feelings inside for too long.” 

“I don’t wanna hear this from the guy who was bitchin’ and moanin’ to me about Pinky for years without doing jack shit about it.” 

“Hey, at least we got together in the end!” He grinned. “What’s your excuse?” 

Katsuki shot him a murderous glare that meant this conversation was over. Out of the corner of his eye, Uraraka was doubled over the table in silent laughter. 

“Alright, alright. Just saying, bro.” He grinned, raising his hands in peace, before quickly double checking the room. “Anyway, how’s that other project going?” 

Katsuki nodded. “Pretty good. They tested the tensile strength of the armour last week and it’s fucking incredible. He’ll be able to withstand a metric shit ton of force with litte to no backlash, and according to All Might, it feels like wearing a second skin.” 

“Shit, man. Makes me kinda wish I had some of that.” 

“Says the guy with hardening skin,” Uraraka piped up. 

“Touché,” Kirishima shrugged. 

“Who the fuck taught you that word?” Katsuki smirked. As Shitty Hair barked out a laugh, good-natured as always, they continued to chat idly about the project while waiting for more classmates to show up. 

Project Make-Deku-A-Hero-Again, or Project Supersuit. It was an idea birthed during the weeks he spent stuck in his hospital room, left with nothing to do except digest the fact that his best friend was quirkless again. He must have gone through the entire goddamn cycle of grief before he decided he was going to do something about it. 

Because despite what the majority of the public thought about him, Katsuki wasn’t just a dumb blonde with anger issues. He graduated at the top of his class for good fucking reason, and he never met a problem he couldn’t solve if given enough time. Good thing time was all he had in this godforsaken sterilized prison. 

Hopped up on painkillers and restless energy, Katsuki turned the problem over and over in his head until an idea began to form, so crazy that it might actually work. 

The moment he was discharged from the hospital, he had practically rushed over to meet All Might with only one question on his lips: Was it possible?

As it turned out, the former Symbol of Peace still had a few miracles to pull out of his ass, because he immediately made a call to some friends in the US. He even brought in that crazy chick from the Support Course that had worked on the rest of Izuku’s hero suit. Katsuki didn’t believe in a higher power, but in that moment, All Might felt like divine intervention incarnate.

Over the next year, Katsuki and All Might worked on this project in secret, bouncing back and forth on blueprints and designs until they were satisfied. It helped that Melissa Shield and Hatsune Mei were some of the best in their field and more than happy to help their dear friend Midoriya Izuku. The research progressed fast and his idea— no, Izuku’s dream started taking shape.

Once they perfected the design, then came a whole new problem: How the hell were they going to afford it? 

Even after Melissa and Mei had graciously donated their time for free, and All Might dipping generously into his savings to cover a large chunk of the initial research costs, the suit was still the most expensive thing they’d ever worked on. The technology alone was generations ahead of its time, beyond what most governments were using, and far beyond the capacity of regular support companies here in Japan. 

But only the best for Izuku. And Katsuki knew who else held his best interests at heart. 

He started with Round Face and Shitty Hair who rallied the rest of their classmates, and soon, everyone in Class A was onboard with the idea. He would never admit it, but he was relieved to have the entire class back him up. Hell, when he saw the amount that Icy-Hot and Pony-Tail Chick alone were able to contribute, he’d never been happier to be friends with a bunch of rich fucks in his life. 

Everyone else in the working class hunkered down the same way he did, picking up extra shifts and brand deals, while the number in their humble collection slowly grew over the months. The suit itself would take about seven to eight years to complete, but thanks to everyone’s help, most of the research would be funded in due time. 

They were at the beginning of a long road, but none of them were going to rest until they gave Izuku back his dream. After all, what was Class A without its heart, right? 

Suddenly, Kirishima tapped him on the shoulder and made a zipping motion in front of his lips. He halted mid-sentence as a mop of green curls peeked into the room. “Hey guys!” 

“You’re late, Midoriya!” 

“Is Aizawa-sensei working you too hard?” 

“Were you grading assignments again?” 

“Wait, is it even exam season at UA yet?” 

“Come sit down and eat something, Deku!” 

“It’s not him, I swear! I just lost track of time!” Izuku replied sheepishly, making himself comfortable in the seat next to his roommate. 

“You shouldn’t work yourself too hard, nerd.” Katsuki piped up. Uraraka raised her eyebrows from across the table, and he shot her a death glare when the boy wasn’t looking. 

“It’s alright when I have Kacchan looking out for me!” he replied instantly with a giant smile, and Katsuki felt like he was going to have a second heart attack. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he mumbled, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

Eight more years. Just you wait, Izuku.  

It felt like his first day at UA all over again. 

Heart pounding and palms sweaty, his nerves a giant jumble of tangled wires in his chest, Izuku stepped through the UA barrier with a deep breath. This time not as a student, but as a teacher. He kind of felt like an imposter in a suit and tie. 

The thing about Midoriya Izuku was that he could go toe-to-toe with the biggest baddie in the world without breaking a sweat, even held at gunpoint and still be thinking about his next training session with All Might. But ask him to speak in front of a crowd of people, and he gets reduced to the nervous, quivering kid barely on the cusp of adulthood.

To say his first class was a disaster was an understatement. He had been completely wiped out. A stuttering, mumbling mess with curly hair and shiny adult shoes; in front of a classroom of teenagers, all trying to piece together their image of Deku the War Hero with their extremely nervous-looking Midoriya-sensei. 

It was so bad that he spent the entirety of his lunch break in the teacher’s lounge feeling sorry for himself, when Aizawa came by to pat his new coworker on the back. “The second day is always better,” he said in his usual unaffected tone. 

It was. 

After he got over his initial nerves, Izuku realised that there was nothing to worry about. It turned out that he loved teaching, and he was pretty good at it too. 

His naturally analytical mind and curious nature made the perfect combination for offering guidance to heroes-in-training. A few days into the job, he was already scribbling out quirk analyses and planning training regimes for each of his students; it felt like slipping on a pair of old shoes. 

Teaching gave him a strange glimpse into a life he could have chosen even without One For All. Maybe he could have become a quirk analyst, or worked as a support staff at a Pro Hero’s agency. The thought that he could have ended up being a hero one way or another brought a smile to his face. 

A few months into the role, he was even brought in for a personal chat with Principal Nezu. The principal had mainly wanted to see how their latest teacher was doing, but it turned out the renowned quirk expert and Izuku had plenty in common. 

Their first meeting had lasted a legendary five hours as they animatedly discussed the various theories surrounding the psychological and physiological evolution of quirks across the years, until Aizawa had to physically bust down the door and force them to go home. 

Was this the future that Izuku always dreamed for himself? Not exactly. But he was too happy with his present day to think about possible futures too much. 

And Kacchan, well, Kacchan had been incredible. His explosive childhood friend had been nothing but sweet since they moved in together. 

Don’t get him wrong, he was still delightfully unpleasant with a foul mouth to match, but Izuku knew him well enough to see that he was truly relaxed these days. Maybe having some space from their classmates and other so-called extras was doing him some good. Or maybe he was just happy about getting to be a Pro Hero for real. 

Still, it surprised Izuku to see that his roommate had woken up extra early for his first day at UA, greeting him with a gruff “you’re late” and a stack of pancakes with maple syrup. He grumbled the entire time as he taught Izuku how to tie a tie, and had even shoved a packed lunch in his hands before kicking him out the door with an unceremonious: “Don’t die”. Izuku had grinned all the way from their apartment to UA’s front step. 

When the chance finally came for him to invite guest teachers, Izuku knew right away that he wanted to show his best friend what teaching at UA was like. 

Plus, there were fewer things better than the expression on his students’ faces when Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, sidekick to the Number #1 Pro Hero and the war hero who saved All Might’s life, walked into their classroom one morning. 

He had to stifle a laugh as their expressions morphed from surprised to shocked when Kacchan opened his mouth, a myriad of colorful language falling from his lips as he challenged his poor first years to a fight. Even more so when the angry blonde had turned around to muss their homeroom teacher’s hair and call him a loser. Izuku would usually reprimand him, but well, it was villain combat training after all. 

It was painfully nostalgic to watch Kacchan in action again, the evolution of his quirk making his trademark explosions pop and sparkle even against the bright sun. He was truly at home in the air, an unmatched mobility and ferocity that sent his students scattering in panicked reverence. 

It was one of Izuku’s greatest regrets for not becoming a Pro Hero, that he could no longer watch Kacchan fight up close like this anytime he wanted, but it made for an incredible training exercise for his students.

It helped that Kacchan made a great teacher, not that his roommate would ever let him see the light of day if he said this out loud. Even when he was still trying to figure out One For All, the blonde was always his most attentive training partner and greatest critic, pointing out the tiniest flaws and micro adjustments to his moves that most people wouldn’t even notice. 

By the end of class, Izuku felt revitalised. His students got a valuable learning experience, and he got to spend the entire morning hanging out with his best friend. He wished every day could be like this. 

“Thank you for helping out, Kacchan.” Izuku beamed, as his class filed out for lunch break. 

“You don’t need to thank me, nerd.” His best friend leaned against his deck, facing forward towards the now-empty classroom. “It was fun messing around with the brats.” 

The two relapsed into a comfortable silence, afterimages of their ex-classmates filling the empty seats in the all too familiar Class A study hall. Kacchan sauntered across the classroom, his imposing frame feeling out of place amidst the familiar setting. 

His hero suit had gone through a few upgrades since they left high school. He had kept the mostly-black design from his winter suit, his entire body covered in the thermal material to help with his quirk all year round. His gauntlets now sported a slimmer, matte black design, more suited for blending into the shadows when he needed to, but his fierce-looking eye mask and explosive motif still remained. 

Izuku’s the one who suddenly felt out of place in his suit and tie, eyes trailing mindlessly after his best friend’s form. He watched as the Pro Hero plonked down in his old seat, tilting his head up to make eye contact with the teacher. 

“You really get to teach in this classroom every day, huh.” Kacchan leaned back and rapped his knuckles on the surface of his roommate’s old desk. Come sit.

“Yeah, it’s weird.” Izuku chuckles, walking over to join him in reliving their memories. “Sometimes I turn around from the blackboard and hallucinate Iida-kun raising his hand at the back.” 

“Maybe you’re the one that needs glasses, Four Eyes .” 

“Har har.” 

“You like it so far?” 

Izuku didn’t miss the hint of concern in his roommate’s tone. “I do! The students are a pleasure to teach. They’re so sweet and bright and attentive,” he gushed. 

“I’m sure we weren’t like that with Aizawa,” Kacchan barked out a laugh. 

“To be fair, I think Aizawa thinks all teenagers are monsters,” he giggled. That seemed to be even more true now that they were coworkers. “Although I think we still hold the record for most problematic class in UA history.”

As they idly bickered with each other, Izuku found himself staring down the back of his childhood friend’s head. He couldn’t count the hours he had spent memorising the gap between the end of his blonde locks and the top of his collar. For all three years at UA, he had the same view day after day, hour after hour in class. Yet, his view now couldn’t be more different. 

The boy from his childhood had grown into a man in the short months since they graduated. Where there once used to be lean muscle now rested broad shoulders, and planes of muscle that appeared even more defined under his skin tight suit. Now, Kacchan barely fit into the chair where they had spent their entire teenhood. 

“It’s kind of weird to be seeing the back of your head again. It feels like I never see you like this anymore.” Izuku mused, suddenly overcome with the urge to reach out and touch his short, blonde hair. 

“Oh, really?” 

Kacchan suddenly leaned back, his head lying flat on the table behind him. His mask was pushed up over his eyes, pulling back the soft, spiky hair that Izuku had wanted to run his fingers through just moments earlier. A strong scent of burnt caramel reached his nose, an after-effect of the hero using his quirk, and his body instinctively relaxed. It smelled like their home. 

It was only then Izuku noticed that he was just inches away from Kacchan’s face, his face burning quick and hot as piercing ruby eyes briefly darted to his lips. He jerked his head away in surprise. 

What was that? What was that ? 

“I better get back soon,” Kacchan coughed, getting up to check his phone. “I got another fucking night shift later.” 

“O-okay! I’ll see you at home?” Despite his heart pounding in his ears, Izuku raised his eyes to meet the blonde hero standing across the classroom. Just in time to catch an indiscernable expression cross his face. 

“Yeah,” Kacchan let out a small smirk, like he had just decided on something. “See you then, sensei .” 

Izuku didn’t think it was possible for him to turn any redder. One word had dug up feelings and thoughts that he hadn’t had since the start of high school. It wasn’t like he had the time for it between all the hero-training and war-fighting, but things were different now. So he did the only thing that came to mind. 

He pulled out his phone and sent an SOS to the one person who was equipped to handle this, before he buried his face in his hands and screamed. 

“So the day has finally come,” Ochako leaned back in her chair, triumphant. 

“Yay.” Todoroki chimed in monotonously.

“I still don’t know why I’m here,” Iida looked around the group confusedly.

The “Dekusquad” — also self-proclaimed with reluctant approval from its namesake, including members Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Shoto, Iida Tenya, and Asui Tsuyu — had gathered at a local bar near Izuku’s apartment to discuss his situation. None of them were frequent drinkers, but the place had private rooms and a strict policy on discretion, making it the go-to hangout spot for Pro Heroes in the area. 

Izuku could only groan in embarrassment. His face was permanently welded to his palms at this point, as he tried to avoid the sly looks from his friends. 

If Kacchan could see him now, he would definitely make fun of him, saying he was roleplaying as fucking Shigaraki Tomura or something. Ugh, why was he thinking about Kacchan again? Stupid Kacchan and his stupid hair and his stupid voice and stupid… everything . 

“Why we are here, my boys, is because our dear friend Midoriya Izuku has finally—” Ochako took a deep breath, “— finally awakened to the one truth that we’ve all known since our first year of high school.” 

“What do you mean since first year?” Izuku squeaked. 

“Are you and Bakugou finally dating? Congratulations, Midoriya!” Iida clapped happily. 

“No, not yet. I would have heard about it.” Todoroki corrected their former class president. Just like Katsuki, the dual-quirk hero was also a sidekick with Best Jeanist, although this was a temporary position while things got sorted out at his father’s agency. 

At that, Iida looked disappointed. Izuku looked mortified. 

“Sorry for the overenthusiasm, Midoriya. We’ve been kind of looking forward to this for a while,” Tsuyu explained, placing a gentle pat on his head. “Maybe you can start from the beginning?” 

“Here, this will help.” Ochako slid a glass of fruity drink over to him. 

Izuku eyed it warily before downing it in one gulp. Eyes widened across the table. “So you know how I invited Kacchan to be the guest teacher for my class this week? I thought it would be nice to show him what it’s like to teach at UA, especially after he supported me so much on this journey. Plus, his quirk was perfect for the training I had planned—” 

“Did it go badly?” Iida questioned. 

“No! No, it went perfect! My students loved him, even though I think he permanently traumatised a few of them, but I kind of saw that coming anyway. The problem is what happened after ,” he rambled on. “You know how I teach my classes in our old classroom? So we were reminiscing over memories from high school, and even sitting in our old seats—” 

“They were always so dramatic like that,” Todoroki whispered to Iida, who nodded. 

“—and then I’m sitting there staring at the back of his head, wondering if his shoulders were always that broad and how his hair would be really soft to touch right now—” 

“Deku, you are so down bad,” Ochako smirked. 

“—and then he just leans back! Without any warning! His face was so close to mine and I didn’t even notice at first because I was too busy thinking about how his quirk makes his sweat smell like burnt caramel—” 

“I guess I’ve kind of noticed that,” Todoroki mused. 

“Wait, burnt caramel?” Iida cocked his head. 

“I mean, it’s not scientifically proven or anything. But after the nitroglycerin in Kacchan’s sweat burns up, it sort of leaves behind a sweet—” 

“Don’t tell me you kissed him?” Tsuyu suddenly leaned forward. 

Izuku turned a violent shade of crimson at the thought. “No no no! He left for work after that, but before that he might have— maybe— called me sensei ,” he whispered the last word out, immediately returning his head between his hands. 

The table fell silent except for a low whistle from Todoroki. 

“I don’t get what’s the big deal,” Iida piped up. 

“To be honest, I didn’t think Bakugou even had that much game,” Ochako sipped slowly from her drink.

“Same,” Todoroki nodded solemnly. 

“Ignore them, Midoriya.” Tsuyu rolled her eyes, reaching over to gently hold their friend’s hand. “What’s important is how you feel about it.” 

Izuku raised his head quietly, his mind easily flooding with thoughts of his childhood friend. They had been through so much together, more than some people went through in their entire lifetimes, but that wasn’t what made him feel this way. No, it wasn’t quite right. 

Even after all the blood spilled for each other, their bones broken and fractured into a million tiny pieces, and bitter tears cried over hospital beds, the one memory that pushes itself to the forefront of Izuku’s mind is horrifyingly simple. 

Kacchan is golden. The first rays of dawn illuminate his silhouette like a gentle halo. He is scarred and bruised and his chest heaves in effort. Beads of sweat drip off the sharp edge of his face and he wipes it off with a fierce grin. His eyes sparkle like rubies with the glint of a challenge. He is victorious, and he is alive. He is beautiful. 

“I feel good about it,” he smiled softly. 

“And that’s all that matters,” Tsuyu smiled back, squeezing his hand. 

“But I don’t know if anything will come from it. I mean, does he even look at me that way?” 

Ochako spluttered into her drink so violently that Iida quickly reached over to thump her on the back. “I’m about as sure as All For One is dead,” she replied dryly. Izuku groaned. 

“Don’t even joke around. I’ve never even dated anyone before. Who would want me?” 

“You’re kidding me,” she deadpanned. 

“I don’t think he’s kidding,” Iida pointed out. 

“Oh my god, you’re not kidding.” Ochako was practically bouncing on her seat. “Deku, the entire school had a crush on you. You can’t tell me you didn’t know. Even I had a crush on you in our first year!” 

That last one Izuku knew about, but that was because she had told him. To his face. They were close enough now that their possible romance was out in the open without any hard feelings, but he was feeling a little more doubtful about these hundreds of other so-called admirers from high school. 

“Okay, but Kacchan received a confession every other week and I didn’t get a single one,” he reasoned. Ochako took a big gulp of her drink and massaged the gap between her eyebrows. 

“Tsuyu-chan, help me out here,” she pleaded.  

“Remember at the start of second year when that first year girl came to our class, and started telling you how much she admired you?” The frog heroine asked gently.

Izuku remembered. She had short black hair and a sweet smile. 

“I remember her, what about it?” 

“That was practically a confession!” Ochako groaned. “You said thank you and left her there!”

“Oh, and what about that third year with the pink hair? He told you he liked you a lot, and asked if you wanted to go to the library to study.” Todoroki added, doing air quotes around the word study . 

“Uh-huh.” 

“He was asking you out on a date!” Ochako exclaimed, unable to contain herself. 

Izuku recalled going to the library with him and talking for hours about quirk training. Oh god. 

“There were a few dozen more, but eventually word got around that you were too much of a jock to care about dating, and people just stopped confessing after a while,” Tsuyu explained. 

“M-me? A jock?!” He squeaked. 

That was when Ochako leaned forward to place two hands on his shoulders. “Deku, I say this with all the love in the world so please believe me. You. Are. Hot. Shit.” 

Even Iida was nodding seriously, and Izuku felt like he was going to pass out. 

“Although I’m not attracted to the opposite sex that way, I have to admit that you’re definitely desirable. Not only are you our country’s hero, you have a good heart, and uh, a good body,” the bespectacled boy finished rather awkwardly. 

“Don’t forget about Bakugou,” Todoroki piped up, causing the rest of the table to nod in agreement.

“W-what about Kacchan?” 

“When the two of you were together, he used to glare at all the strangers who even tried to come close to you. I can’t believe you never noticed.” 

“I believe people called you Japan’s Sweetheart and his Guard Dog,” Iida recalled. 

Izuku’s head was spinning with all this new information.

“So you’re telling me that at least a dozen people had a crush on me in UA, but most people were too scared to confess to me because of Kacchan, and the ones that were brave enough, I was too dumb to even notice?” 

“I wouldn’t say dumb. Maybe, misguided?” Tsuyu offered kindly. 

Izuku slumped down in his seat dejectedly. Suddenly, he had a lot to think about. 

“Bartender, I think we need a few more drinks here.” Todoroki waved the man over. “This is going to be a long night,” he muttered.

Chapter Text

“Oi, ‘Zuku. Wake up.” A familiar voice grumbled, drifting in and out of Izuku’s consciousness. He thinks he must be having a good dream if Kacchan’s voice was entering his subconscious.

“I like it when you call me that,” he smiled dopily, clinging onto one muscled, well-toned arm. He briefly registered being swept off his feet princess style, the sound of his friends’ drunken hooting and hollering in the background. 

“Fuckin’ Round Face, I know this is your fault. You nerds went too far today.” 

“Boo. Killjoy.” Ochako flashed their grumpy friend a big thumbs down, her arms slung over Tsuyu and Iida as they guided her to her cab. “Maybe you should ask him what we talked about tonight,” she smirked. 

“Ignore her, Bakugou,” Tsuyu smiled apologetically. “But it’s really nothing bad, I promise.” 

“He really cares about you, you know,” Todoroki adds, before stepping into his driver’s car. Izuku snuggled further into the blonde’s arm. He was so warm. “Anyway, see you at work tomorrow.” 

“Go die,” Kacchan grunted in parting, already starting the short trek back to their apartment.

The temperature around them grew colder as they left the warmth of the bar, the hustle and heat of summer giving way to autumn’s cool breeze. Izuku couldn’t care less about the cold, only the steady thump of Kacchan’s heart against his cheek.

“You’re like a fuckin’ koala today,” his roommate muttered. 

“S-sorry Kacchan, head is spinnin’,” he mumbled. He liked the way the blonde’s chest rumbled softly each time he spoke. 

Kacchan sighs, deep and heavy. “What were you even talking about with those losers?” 

“S’not nice, they’re not losers,” he slurred sleepily. “Just talkin’ about how amazing Kacchan is.” 

“You know you can tell me that to my face.” 

Izuku giggled softly, recognising the familiar cockiness entering his tone like the melody to an old song. “Noo, too embarrassing,” he turned his face, hiding it against Kacchan’s chest. 

“As if it’s more embarrassin’ than half the shit you say normally, ‘Zu.” 

Izuku didn’t need to see his best friend’s face to know that he was rolling his eyes. God, he liked him a lot. “I like it when you call me that too,” he whispered. 

“Oh, you like that, Izu?” 

“That too,” he mumbled. Izuku had a feeling he was being teased right now, but his heart felt too warm to protest much. Especially not with the feeling of Kacchan’s chest silently vibrating with laughter. 

“Hey, we’re home.” He felt the temperature around them warm up, the smell of burnt caramel pleasantly filling his senses. “D’you wanna take a bath?” 

“No, wanna stay here with Kacchan,” he pouted. Izuku realised the blonde hadn’t let go of him yet, his body still being cradled steadily in his arms. 

“Fine, just change then. I’m going to sleep on the couch if you even think of sleeping in your dirty ass work clothes.” Only Kacchan’s tone was harsh, as he carefully and gently set Izuku down on the cold tiles of their bathroom. A set of clothes was thrown his way, as the pair of footsteps retreated further into their apartment. 

After lazily changing into more comfortable clothes, he stepped out of the bathroom to a glass of warm water being shoved into his hands. “Drink,” Kacchan ordered. 

Izuku drank up greedily, quenching a thirst he didn’t even realize was there. He vaguely recognised the limited-edition Golden Era All Might glass that he held in his hands.  

“Go to sleep,” his roommate ordered, leaving for the kitchen again. 

Izuku could only nod, padding softly to their shared bed and promptly collapsing, the exhaustion hitting him deep in his bones all at once. The bed creaked and shifted as Kacchan eventually crawled in next to him, Izuku instantly moving to tuck himself under the blonde’s arm. A familiar dance, if not for the unfamiliar way Izuku’s heart raced. 

The words escaped his lips before he could help it, his heart awash with the warmth of being together in their shared home, their shared life. 

“I like you so much, Kacchan.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sleep it off, ‘Zuku.” 

“No, I mean, that’s what we were talking about—“ Izuku’s sentence cut off with a shuddering yawn. “—at the bar with Ochako and the others. We were talking about how much I like you.” 

There was a long silence, and Izuku wondered briefly if Kacchan had fallen asleep. 

“You mean that?” He whispered hoarsely, as if he would break the magic if he spoke any louder. Izuku nodded into his chest, quietly repeating the three words again. 

“Then tell me again in the morning when you’re not so fuckin’ drunk, idiot.”

Izuku smiled. “Mmm’kay Kacchan.” 

First thing tomorrow morning. Izuku would talk to Kacchan about everything. He felt the blonde pull him even closer, his heart thumping out a steady beat. He felt his warm fingers traced idle patterns against his back. For now, this was enough. 

The chance never comes. 

Kacchan is gone by the time Izuku wakes up, his head vaguely registering the empty bed as his head pounded from last night’s bad choices. Izuku finds a single note, a glass of water, and a hangover cure sitting on their bedside table. 

Called for urgent mission. Will try to be back tonight. - Katsuki

The apartment was dead silent and Izuku felt a shuddering chill run through his body. He padded across the empty apartment to fix himself a cup of coffee, noting the remains of a breakfast half-made in the kitchen. It must have been a really urgent request if Kacchan rushed out without cleaning up first. 

He washed up the pots and pans silently, not being able to muster enough energy to eat. His stomach still churned from the night before, threatening to empty itself at the slightest jostle. Maybe he would grab something from Lunch Rush later. As Izuku got ready for another work day, every sound in their tiny apartment seemed amplified without the presence of the loud blonde. He almost felt relieved to lock their front door behind him and head to UA. 

He first had an inkling that something was wrong when Aizawa didn’t show up to work. Izuku had been called in to substitute for his class, but he couldn’t answer any questions his students had about their teacher. Instead, he asked them to self study and sat there, fiddling with the pen in his hand, a sense of dread growing by the hour. What was going on ? 

That was when it began raining. 

Izuku had a weird relationship with rain. He used to love the pitter patter of the raindrops against his rooftop, a sign to cozy up with a hot drink and an old edition of the All Might comic books. When he was younger, he used to rush out in his raincoat to splash in the puddles, praying for the chance to see a rainbow when the rain finally eased up. 

These days when it rained, he thought of Kacchan’s dead body. His blood seeping out onto the mud and grass, staining his crumpled limited-edition All Might trading card. 

He thought about how he had rushed over from the island, completely oblivious to the fact that his world no longer had Kacchan alive in it. It reminded him of those months when he almost didn’t want to be alive, trying to search for hope in a ruined city that was out to kill him every day. 

Izuku expended every fragment of willpower left in his body to power through the day without worrying his students. But just as he was about to leave campus, ready to spend the rest of the night waiting by the front door for Kacchan to get home, Present Mic walked into the teacher’s lounge. 

“You need to see this,” he said quietly, placing a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. The storm outside raged on.

The usually loud-mouthed hero was eerily silent as he led the young teacher to the staff meeting room. Most of the Pro Heroes on staff were there, crowded around a television screen. When they saw Izuku, they immediately cleared a space for him in front. 

At first, he couldn’t make out what they were looking at. The news channel’s camera was shaky and distant, the noise from the storm and the battle too overwhelming, then he saw it. A flash of orange. A sparkling explosion. His heart dropped to his stomach. 

“—the Number #1 Pro Hero, Best Jeanist, deployed the full force of his agency—” 

“—gigantification quirk, suspected to be a freak mutation after ingestion of an illegal quirk enhancer—”

“—fighting viciously to contain the damage within this area—” 

“—being pushed back, with Best Jeanist suffering a critical wound—” 

“—rookie Pro Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight seems to be holding back the villain for now—” 

Izuku felt a firm hand squeeze down on his shoulder. He looked up to see Hizashi Yamada mirroring the same, anxious expression. He placed his own hand on top of his and squeezed back. 

“Aizawa and Monoma are out there too, assisting with capturing the mastermind,” he explained. “They’d been working on this raid for months. The big guy is just one of his lackeys, but his quirk mutation caught them off-guard.”

Izuku felt sick to his gut. For months . How could he have not noticed?

“I’m sorry you have to see this, kid,” he continued quietly. “But he’s going to be okay. He’s made out of tougher stuff than this.” 

“Isn’t there anything we can d—” The futile words caught in his throat. Even if they could make it there, fight through the oceans of civilians and stalled traffic, Izuku was quirkless. He would arrive at the battle scene only to get squashed like a bug. 

“It never gets easier,” Yamada shook his head, not loosening his grip on the green-haired man. “We just have to trust in them. You should know Bakugou better than anyone. This is nothing.” 

He did know Kacchan better than anyone, but this wasn’t nothing. Even from this blurry distance, he could see that the size of his explosions weren’t right. That his movements were more sluggish, strained from the prolonged battle. 

Izuku knows Kacchan. They had trained with each other every day in the wake of the war, baring their flaws to each other in the early mornings where no one else could see, so they could remold themselves into the image of the heroes from their childhood. But there were some things that couldn’t be fixed. Izuku was intimately familiar with how the war had permanently disabled them both. 

And everyone knew how much Kacchan hated the rain. 

His mind was suddenly brought back to his mother, wondering how many times she had been in this exact position. Unable to keep watching her son get hurt, but unable to tear her eyes away from the screen until she was sure he was safe; all the while he threw his broken, aching body into battle without a single care for himself. He felt like throwing up. 

A large explosion snapped him out of his own head. It wasn’t Kacchan. No, something in one of the buildings had exploded, causing large chunks of rubble to fall right above the battleground. A giant cloud of dust erupted despite the rain and Izuku found himself, not for the first time in his life, praying for a miracle. 

The storm chewed its way through the dust cloud quickly, the cameraman managing to steady his shot as the world went silent. The whole room seemed to hold onto their breath as the live broadcast zoomed in on the scene clearing beyond the smoke. The room erupted in cheers. 

Izuku choked back a sob. 

A large piece of rubble had critically incapacitated the villain. Looks like it had been a war of attrition after all, with the effects of the quirk enhancer wearing off just in time. Kacchan, his Kacchan stood above the rubble, one gauntlet pointed right at the weakened villain’s head, his expression tired but triumphant. 

Izuku clapped both hands over his mouth, giant tears clouding his vision in sheer relief. Yamada slung his hand over the young teacher’s shoulder. 

“See, I was right. I was right!” He repeated, more to himself than anything.  

They watched as the district police and the first wave of rescue heroes rushed to the scene, relieving the blonde hero of the villain and pointing him in the direction of the nearest medic. The news crew moved in just as quickly, clearly hoping to steal the hero of the hour away for an exclusive. 

“Excuse me, Dynamight! You were absolutely incredible in that fight, especially as a rookie! Do you have any words for—” The reporter began. 

“I’ve got some words for you, alright.” He pointed at the reporter, and Izuku winced. Kacchan wasn’t exactly known for his media-friendly personality. “I’ve got someone important waiting for me at home, so I don’t have time for this bullshit. Leave me the fuck alone.” He emphasised every word in his last sentence before storming away without further comment. 

The camera slowly panned from the shell-shocked reporter to the explosive blonde, currently engaged in a heated argument with the medics. They seemed like they were trying to force the hero into the ambulance, to little success. In the background, the reporter quietly whispered a question clearly not meant for the broadcast. 

“Did Dynamight have a partner?”

Izuku felt like he was going to melt into the floor. 

His old English teacher howled with laughter beside him, yelling something about how the kids were on another level these days and how nice it was to be young. From the other side of the room, Ectoplasm piped up. “I believe that means I win the bet. Pay up, everyone.” 

No, now Izuku felt like he was going to disintegrate into non-existence. 

Through the haze of his humiliation, the young man vaguely registered his phone ringing in his pocket. Eyes quickly scanning the hospital’s name on the Caller ID, he stood up in a hurry. Right, emergency contact. 

“Go get your man!” Yamada hollered after him. 

The sound of his ex-teacher’s voice continued to ring in Izuku’s ears as he raced off campus, but his mind only played one thought back to him in a loop: Kacchan was alive. He was alive. He was alive!

When Katsuki woke up, the first thing he saw wasn’t a head of soft green curls blocking his view. It wasn’t the smell of the strong, citrus-scented shampoo that the nerd liked to use. It wasn’t even the sound of light snoring, because the man couldn’t keep his mouth shut even when he was sleeping. 

Instead, he woke up to white hospital walls and the sterile smell of antiseptic. 

Fucking shit. He fucked up.

He strained his neck to look at his bedside table, noticing a basket of his favourite fruit and a note in the old hag’s violent handwriting. His gym bag and a set of fresh clothes sat in the chair next to him. A few flower arrangements and teddy bears dressed in tiny Dynamight costumes littered the room. 

He never understood the appeal of all this gift-giving. It’s not like he was dead . 

Shit, Izuku. He didn’t get home last night. Did Izuku know where he was? Katsuki tried to sit up to search for his phone, but the sharp pain in his ribs shot straight to his head. He landed on his back with a weak thump, lungs already straining to catch his breath. Jesus. 

He vaguely recognised the sound of his room door opening, frantic footsteps rushing over to his bedside. A messy mop of green hair entered his view, his adorable freckled face was contorted with worry, and was that a Dynamight hoodie? Maybe he had died and gone to heaven after all. 

“Kacchan? Oh my god, Kacchan, you’re awake!” Izuku almost spilled the cup of coffee in his hands in his haste to get to the blonde’s side. Katsuki noticed the light eyebags above his freckles and he frowned. 

“Izu, you’re here,” he croaked. Shit, when was the last time he drank water? 

As if reading his mind, his personal angel was already pouring out a cup for him. “Here, drink this,” he ordered. It all felt strangely familiar, minus the limited-edition Golden Era All Might glass. When he finally made it through the cup of water, he asked the first questions that came to mind. 

“What the fuck happened? Why’d I just wake up? Don’t tell me I got knocked out and fuckin’ comatosed my way twenty years into the future or some shit.” 

“N-no, the medics kind of had to sedate you,” his green-haired angel explained sheepishly. “You were refusing to go to the hospital so someone knocked you out with a quirk, then they healed you while you were sleeping. But you can’t move around yet, the damage to your ribcage was pretty extensive.” 

“Fucking shitbags. I told them I didn’t need it.” Katsuki grumbled, trying to sit up again. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku protested, laying one gentle hand on his chest to calm him down. Despite himself, Katsuki felt his heart rate even out. God, he really was whipped. “Anyway I should go get the doctors—” 

“No, stay. Please.” He closed one hand around the scarred palm on his chest. Hell, he was already in the hospital. He could be needy if he wanted to be. Blushing, Izuku slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the hospital bed. 

“How’s Jeanist? He better not be dead,” Katsuki grunted. 

“No, he’s recovering well. He should be discharged within the week.” His roommate thought for a moment, before adding on. “Aizawa, Monoma, and Todoroki are already back to work. Apparently the arrest of the syndicate’s big boss went smoothly.” 

The blonde heaved a deep, shuddering sigh that spelled his relief. 

“Of course I had to get stuck with the mutated motherfucker while those bastards got to have a straightforward clean-up,” he grumbled. Izuku was playing with his fingers, tracing over the scars that mapped across his hand. It was nice. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Kacchan,” he whispered softly.

“How long have I been out?” 

“Three days.” Fuck, no wonder people were leaving him teddy bears and shit. “That villain got you real bad. I was so worried watching the broadcast.” 

“That’s how you found out? Jesus, I’m going to murder Eraser and his gloomy-lookin’ ass the next time I see him,” he cursed under his breath. 

“Yeah, but Kacchan won, right? So everything is alright.” 

Katsuki didn’t even have to look up to know that he was lying. 

“Drop that fake ass smile, ‘Zuku.” He pressed his best friend’s scarred, powerful hand tightly to his chest. “You ain’t fooling me. What’s wrong?” 

“I-I’m fine, all that matters is that you’re fine.” Izuku repeated. “Unless you’re not fine? Oh god, are you not feeling okay, Kacchan? Because I could go get the doctors—”

“Enough about the fuckin’ doctors,” Katsuki snapped, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on his roommate’s face. “Shit, Izu, I should be the one asking you that. I got the call and all I could do was leave you that shitty note. I couldn’t even tell you more details ‘cause of all this confidentiality crap now that you’re apparently a civilian. What kind of stupid ass excuse is that?”

He ran his free hand through his hair, frustrated. 

“Then that shitrag of a villain had to go shoot himself up with some dollar store street drug that didn’t even work properly, ‘cause he went absolute apeshit, and now I’m stuck in the goddamn hospital after being knocked out for three fucking days. Fucking fantastic.” 

Izuku let the blonde work out his rage, continuing to draw idle circles on his palm. 

“I didn’t even get to come home to you after it was all done,” he murmured quietly. “This fucking sucks.” A bubble of silence enveloped the both of them, filled with words left unspoken. 

“I-It was killing me, Kacchan,” Izuku finally whispered. “Watching you out there fighting, while I was stuck at UA and not being able to do anything. You’ve always been within arm’s reach, but now—”

Tears began to drip down his freckled cheeks, much to Katsuki’s horror. 

“What if something happens to you next time and I’m not there?” 

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” He reached out, a finger softly lifting a tear from the other man’s cheek. “I managed alright, didn’t I? As if some oversized twerp would defeat the future Number #1 hero so easily.” He thumped his chest in a show of bravado, immediately wincing as it came in contact with one of his many bruises. 

“If only I still had One For All, I could have— I don’t know—” 

“You do plenty as is, ‘Zuku.” 

“I’m quirkless , Kacchan. What the hell can I do?!” Izuku snapped. Katsuki was stunned into silence. “What if I wanted to do more? What if I wanted to be out there, fighting alongside you, like how we were back then?”

Katsuki so desperately wanted to tell him. That he had been thinking the exact same thing ever since second year when he found out that Izuku had lost his quirk. That his dream of becoming a Pro Hero meant nothing if everyday was just a cruel reminder that Izuku wasn’t by his side. That he and all their friends had spent the last few years working their asses off to earn back Izuku’s dream, even if they had to claw their way there piece by fucking piece. 

His heart ached with the knowledge, but he quickly suppressed the urge. He didn’t want to raise his hopes for nothing. Not while research was still in progress, not when the suit was far from done. 

Instead he cupped Izuku’s cheeks with both hands, his thumbs roughly wiping away the fresh tears that had formed. “Listen to me, idiot. We’re always going to be a team. Doesn’t fucking matter if we’re fighting together or apart. We’re always gonna be fighting for the same future.”

“And who’s going to protect you?” Izuku mumbled, his cheeks pressed between Katsuki’s palms. 

“Firstly, fuck you, I’ll protect myself. Secondly—” he sighed. He would curse the person who turned him into this sappy piece of shit. Except it was kind of a Catch-22 because he kind of loved that person, so he really fucked himself there. “—you will.” 

“Huh?” 

“Listen, ‘Zuku, cause I’m only going to say this once.” His childhood friend leaned closer, careful to avoid his injured side. “Every fucking inch of me was fighting to make it back to you. Every battle, every villain. Ever since our fight with All For One all the way until now. All the fucking way. It was you who did that.” 

“Kacchan,” Izuku whined. His bright, green eyes instantly flooded with tears. 

What a crybaby. 

“Does that make you so sad?” Katsuki commented wryly, smiling softly as his roommate reached up to cover his palms with his own. His eyes traced the familiar scars on his angel’s arms. Izuku really had him beat in that department.

“I really— God— That’s not it—” Izuku hiccuped through the tears. “I just really like you, that’s all.” 

This was the second or maybe third time Katsuki was hearing this, but he still found his heart skipping a beat all the same. A giddy, boyish grin snuck onto his face despite himself, his hands pulling away to cover his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Fuck— I— You’re really something. I didn’t know if you remembered.” 

There was a split second of silence. “Wait, remembered?” Izuku demanded, shoving his arms off his face in confusion. “Remembered what?” 

“You already said this the other night, nerd. When you got fucking shitfaced with Round Face and the other extras. You said— well, that. I thought I was tripping balls. I could barely sleep.” 

“Oh god,” Izuku’s face paled. “I really confessed to you while I was drunk?” 

“Or I guess you didn’t.” Katsuki laughed brightly, the giddiness in his chest threatening to break free. He couldn’t resist bringing his hand to Izuku’s cheek, feeling the way it warmed at his touch. 

“A-And how do you feel about it?” 

“I fucking died for you and you still have to ask, nerd?” He gently caressed the scar where his freckles used to be, delighting in the way the man leaned further into his touch. “I like you too.” 

Katsuki watched as the emerald eyes in front of him gleamed with happiness, his mind flashing back to all the times he’d seen this familiar smile in his life. Across the countertop in their apartment. Over his shoulder in their old classroom. In the heat of the battle with the cityscape at their backs. By the river where they spent their summers as children. When they first met.

It had never looked as dazzling as it did right now.

Fuck it. Bakugou “Kacchan” Katsuki didn’t do things halfway. 

“Actually, no. I take it back.” 

“Wait, what?” Izuku blinked in confusion. 

Katsuki pulled him down gently to press a kiss where his thumb had been, right over his scar. “I love you.” Another kiss on his freckles. “Obviously.” 

Izuku practically melted where he sat, his body turning a bright shade of red as buried his face in the pillow next to Katsuki’s head. The blonde took the opportunity to press another rough kiss to the top of his partner’s head, his free hand reaching out to pull him even closer. 

“Kacchan, you can’t just say that.” Izuku protested, voice muffled in the crook of his neck. “Of course I love you too.” 

“Ha, I said it first though,” Katsuki murmured proudly. “I win.”

Chapter Text

After everything they had been through, it was funny how little about their lives changed. On the day that Katsuki got discharged from the hospital, they returned to their apartment to find everything had remained the same. The faint intermingling scent of citrus and caramel, the mess of UA paperwork left behind on their countertop, even the last television channel they were watching. 

The only thing that was different was them. Katsuki had never been happier for change. 

On paper, the two of them were ordered to take the week off to “physically and emotionally recover” from last week’s events. Off record, they suspected it had something to do with the suspiciously large betting pool surrounding their relationship status among the Pro Hero circuit. Of which Izuku was mortified, and Katsuki couldn’t give two shits. 

He got his man, and he just got five days paid time-off from work. As an overworked young adult trying to pay for a state-of-the-art supersuit, you wouldn’t catch him complaining. 

Still, it felt strange to be doing nothing. To not be needed anywhere except right here, on their couch, with Izuku nestled in his lap and muttering Pro Hero trivia into the crook of his neck. The two were on the third film in their superhero movie marathon, having just decided to order takeout because they didn’t want to leave their couch. Because for the first time in a long time, they didn’t have to. 

Katsuki thinks he could get used to a life like this. Where nothing mattered except the feeling of Izuku idly playing with his hair, his body cuddling even closer each time the blonde placed a tender kiss on his forehead. 

He finally understood the meaning of home being a person, not a place; because right in this moment, Izuku was the four walls of his entire being. With each touch, each caress, he felt his lover build a home around his heart and soul. His whole life could exist within this bubble with Izuku and he would remain horrendously, disgustingly content. 

On the second day of their mandated break, Katsuki kissed Izuku for the first time. They were in the middle of breakfast, their toes playing footsie under the dining table, and he couldn’t remember for the life of him what Izuku was talking about. All he remembered was his roommate looked radiant, the early morning sun painting his dark green curls viridescent, smaller frame drowning in another goddamn Dynamight hoodie stolen from his closet. 

Katsuki leaned over and placed a soft, tentative kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. Breakfast was quickly abandoned, their lips connecting again and again until their backs screamed in protest against the hard wooden chairs, until Izuku was left breathless and pliant under his touch. Katsuki always thought he was above addiction, but he chased after his partner’s affection like a drug, each kiss pulling him further into an abyss he would drown in with a smile.  

He honestly didn’t know what he had done to deserve this. Not after he had spent his entire life being nothing but a monster. An all-powerful and victorious monster, to be fair, but a monster all the same. 

Katsuki wasn’t blind to the way rage licked at his core, the fuel that ignited his flames burning him whole from the inside. He got used to the stares and the comments. He used them to pave each painful step towards ultimate victory until he could pretend it was easy. Katsuki was comfortable there, hiding behind the bravado of a hero, choosing to cradle his guilt and sorrow and other unspeakable feelings where no one else could see. 

But this softness broke him. Each gentle smile dismantled him piece by piece, unravelling even the sutures in his aching, broken heart as the blood flowed out of his chest anew, before dutifully putting him back together again. Izuku had cradled his life in his hands before, but Katsuki would gift him his whole existence now. If only to become the version of himself reflected in Izuku’s eyes, the monster that his green-eyed angel loved. 

On their third day off, Katsuki confided in his mother. 

He had always been a momma’s boy, although he would rather stab himself than admit it. His father, bless his gentle soul, had been fighting a losing battle for favourite parent since the day he was born. Partially because Bakugou Masaru had come in second in every category of the gene race, but mostly because Katsuki came out of the womb screaming for a fight, and Mitsuki had provided him with one every single day of his life. 

Bakugou Mitsuki’s ability to go head-to-head with her son was unmatched by anyone in their lives. She knew exactly which buttons to press, what tone and words to use to send her son fuming into the stratosphere. But she also knew how to disarm him and when to give him enough space, before spilling the hard truths he needed to hear.

For anyone who asked, her secret was simple. Mitsuki only knew her son as well as she knew herself.  And she had already spent forty years dealing with her own shitty personality. 

When she saw that her son had finally gotten his inflated head out of his ass long enough to confront his true feelings for their green-haired neighbor, Mitsuki could have done a victory dance all the way to the moon. Then she found them napping together in Katsuki’s hospital bed, in a position far too intimate to be just friends , and that’s when she began scheming. 

A few excited text messages and a picture to Inko later, her plan quickly fell into place. When the two boys finally showed up at her doorstep, hand-in-hand she might add, she had greeted them with the happy announcement that the legendary Bakugou-Midoriya family dinners would be reinstated, starting tonight. 

The dinners were a weekly tradition started by Mitsuki and Inko when they first found out they were pregnant together; one that persisted all the way through the boys’ kindergarten and elementary school days, through Inko’s husband leaving the picture, through the manifestation of Katsuki’s quirk, and the discovery of Izuku’s quirklessness. After that, well, the relationship between their children became too strained to continue. 

The significance of restarting the tradition wasn’t lost on anyone. It was a day that both mothers had hoped would happen for years, and the thought that it was finally here made them giddy with joy. 

It wouldn’t have mattered if it was friendship or love that brought them back together. Mitsuki didn’t think either were mutually exclusive. But between you and her, she had always hoped that Izuku would be Katsuki’s person. The same way Masaru was the calm wave that met her riotous storm, or the way Inko was the emotional heart to her fighting spirit. Her son seemed more at peace when he was with Izuku, and that was all that mattered to her. 

Still it surprised her, even after all these years, that her shitty son was a lot more serious about the boy next door than she thought. 

Katsuki had been uncharacteristically quiet since he got home, a thoughtful expression on his face that she hadn’t seen since the months after the war. She knew not to disturb him when he got like this, better to let him sort through his emotions before opening the floodgates, and so she resigned herself to waiting. She would wait as long as he needed. 

When the question finally came, it was spoken so softly that she half-thought she imagined it between the rhythmic echo of him dicing chives in their kitchen. 

“Ma, how did you know you were right for the old man?” 

Mitsuki paused to look at her son. He was furiously looking down, as if chopping those goddamn chives were a matter of life and death. A fond smile made its way to her face, and she resisted the urge to drop everything and hug him right now. 

“For your dad? Ha, I didn’t really care if I was right for him or not,” she laughed, recalling the chaotic way she had pursued her future husband’s affections when they first met. “I liked the way I felt around him, and your dad was quite the looker you know, so I just went for it.” 

Katsuki fake gagged, and Mitsuki laughed. She would never get tired of grossing out her only son, but she had told him this story a million times before. 

“Why the question?” 

“I just— Ugh— What if I’m not good enough for Izuku?” Katsuki spat out his true feelings like a poison, and Mitsuki felt her heart squeeze in pain for her son. 

“Oh honey.” She put down her knife then, gently placing one hand on his shoulder. “Why do you think you aren’t?”

“Shit— You— Do I really have to get into it? You know what the hell I did to him all those years ago.” 

Mitsuki nodded sadly. It’s true those years weren’t her proudest moments as a mother, and she had to have plenty of hard conversations with Inko before they could come out of it as friends. 

“But you were a kid. Both of you were.”

“No excuses,” Katsuki shook his head sternly, moving onto the next bowl of vegetables. Despite herself, Mitsuki found herself smiling softly. Her son and his principles, it really made her proud. 

“But you’ve talked about it, right?” 

He nodded gruffly. 

“And you apologised to him? I swear to god, if you haven’t apologised, I will kill you myself.” She whacked him across the back. He was built like a tank these days, he could take it. 

“Yeah, yeah! I apologised!” Katsuki yelped. “Jeez, stop hitting me, woman!” 

“Don’t call your mother that!” She sniped back in their familiar dance. “But seriously, shouldn’t that be enough? I’m not going to butt into your business—“ 

“Too fuckin’ late for that,” he muttered. 

“—but it does seem like Izuku has forgiven you.” She nudged her head towards the living room, where the soft remnants of a lively conversation between Masaru and Izuku leaked into the kitchen. Her husband and Izuku really were alike. 

“But what if I fuck up again?” Her son whispered, as if it was too horrible a possibility to imagine. She understood that feeling all too well, having sunken into the same well of sorrow, tortured with the same terrible thoughts. 

“Then Izuku will set you straight. God knows that boy can deal with you as well as I can at this point.” She squeezed his shoulders, tight enough to bruise. “Don’t look down on that kid, Katsuki.” 

“M’not,” he mumbled, his chopping slowing to a stop. 

“And don’t you dare look down on yourself either,” she threatened. The corner of her eye caught on the metallic glint of her wedding ring. Visions of herself and Masaru as young adults flashed through her mind, a lifetime before Katsuki came in and blessed their lives. 

“You know, there was a point when I wondered why your dad even chose me. I was this loud-mouthed punk that kept picking fights with people. I swore all the fuckin’ time. I wasn’t exactly the sweet, shy stereotype of a girlfriend that everyone wanted. But he completed me, and I trusted that I completed him in some way too.” 

She raised her hand to muss Katsuki’s untameable blonde mop. He was taller than her now. Imagine that. “And now we have a shitty son who’s the best of the both of us,” she teased.

“Shut the fuck up, you old hag,” he mumbled, but the small smile on his lips betrayed him. 

“Hey, you get all those good looks from this old hag.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, returning to dinner prep at a steady pace. Mitsuki didn’t miss the quiet ‘thank you’ mumbled under his breath. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied loudly, cackling as his face turned red. 

Tonight had been the first Bakugou-Midoriya dinner in years, but it felt like no time had passed at all. 

The two sweet, sensitive Midoriya’s had always fit into their chaotic family dynamic like a much needed balm. Inko was as close to her as a sister, and now Izuku felt even more like a son to her. It brought her back to memories of past dinners; the adults having a drink as they gossiped about their children, while their little gremlins raced around the house playing pretend heroes.  

Mitsuki let her mind wander to a distant future when she could call Midoriya Inko her real sister, and her sons had little gremlins of their own running around the house. Though maybe that future wouldn’t be so distant after all, she thought, noticing the way Katsuki subtly rested his arm across the back of Izuku’s chair, the other boy comfortably leaning back like he belonged there. 

Even as her son groaned at the questions about their newly minted relationship, Mitsuki didn’t miss the softness that entered his tone. Nor the way their chairs seemed to inch slightly closer to each other as the night progressed. 

A fond look was shared among the adults around the table, silently watching as their boys seemed to disappear into their own world, bickering quietly about hero rankings and grocery shopping. After everything they had been through, horrors their parents couldn’t even claim to understand, it felt painfully sweet to watch their boys like this. Young, together, and in love. This was what children their age should be doing, not fighting wars in oversized boots. 

The evening ended far too soon for her liking, Katsuki and Izuku saying their early goodbyes to catch the last train home. As they stood at their front door, Bakugou Mitsuki found herself hoping, in the selfish way that all parents do, that things would remain this peaceful forever. 

“You better come visit us again next week, or I’ll come to your workplace and tell everyone Pro Hero Dynamight hasn’t visited his mother in weeks !” She hollered, loud enough for their neighbors to hear. 

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, old lady,” her son rolled his eyes, practically dragging Izuku away with him.

“W-We’ll see you next week, mom, Auntie Mitsuki, and Uncle Masaru! Thank you for dinner!” The more polite of the two waved animatedly, until only the tips of his fingers could be seen over the top of their front gatel, eventually disappearing into the night. 

Everything seemed to quiet all at once, leaving behind nothing but the sound of cicadas and rustling trees. Inko let out a small, content sigh. 

“Our kids did pretty well for themselves in the end,” she mused. 

“Yeah, they did.” Mitsuki squeezed her best friend’s shoulder, leading her back into the house. “Another drink?”

“That sounds nice.” 

Katsuki knew this peace wouldn’t last. 

The harbinger of chaos herself, code name: Uraraka fucking Ochako, showed up at their doorstep like the goddamned devil herself on the last night of their break. He had checked the peephole only to see her round, grinning face as she held up several bags of food and drinks. A group of familiar faces stood behind her, threatening him with a good time, or a broken front door if he didn’t let them in right now. 

They were lucky that Izuku held a soft spot for Class A, practically elbowing his poor, injured boyfriend out of the way to let their old classmates flood into their tiny apartment. Katsuki would have probably kicked them to the curb. Instead, he watched as a familiar, chaotic ruckus took over the small space in an instant. 

Round Face had been the first to push through the crowd, dumping the gifts of sustenance onto their kitchen countertop, all the while bitching about how she’d never forgive them for making her lose the bet. As his boyfriend turned a new shade of beet red, Katsuki somehow managed to gather that this infamous bet had been nothing but an elaborate guessing game all along.

How would Katsuki and Izuku get together, and who would confess first? He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted that it wasn’t even a question whether they would get together eventually.

Surprisingly, their ex-teacher Ectoplasm had been one of the two people to guess that Katsuki would slip up on national television. He had always been one of their more perceptive teachers. Maybe it had something to do with managing all those clones simultaneously. The other person was one extremely smug Todoroki Shoto. 

Katsuki groaned. He would never let him live this down, and with his shitty luck, of course Daddy Issues would be one of the extras to invade his apartment tonight. 

Now that he thought about it, most of Class A had made it tonight. Katsuki saw these fuckers often enough, the Number #1 hero agency constantly fielding team-up requests, but it had been a while since Izuku had seen everyone, even with the monthly meet-ups. Well, he supposed almost-dying was as good of an excuse for a party as any. 

As the drinks and conversations began to flow, he found himself quickly separated from his green-haired angel. The girls had trapped Izuku across the room, presumably questioning him about their new relationship, based on the stupid thing he did with his hands when he got embarrassed. 

It was kind of amazing how his little habits never changed over the years. Izuku was still wearing those ugly ass gym shorts and that stupid T-shirt that said “shirt” on it. Although it had gotten progressively tighter with each passing year, and those ugly shorts did make his ass look great. Katsuki’s gaze began to drift downwards before he snapped himself out of it. 

Great, it had been a total of five fucking minutes and he was already experiencing Izuku withdrawals.

“You are so down bad.” Todoroki smirked next to him. Katsuki flipped him off without looking. 

“Fuck. You. Icy-Hot. Who the hell taught you that?” 

“I did.” 

Katsuki felt a muscled arm hook around his neck before the man popped into his line of sight, flashing his fucking shark teeth in his face. He had the distinct feeling that he’d had this exact same conversation before.

“Pinky’s rubbing off on the both of you.” 

“I think she would take that as a compliment,” Kirishima remarked fondly, following his line of sight to watch his girlfriend animatedly interrogate the red-faced Izuku. “But seriously, bro, I’m happy for ya. It’s about time you manned up and got together. But I’m still kind of annoyed that you didn’t confess to Midoriya on top of a mountain during the sunset.” 

“What the fu— Why the fuck would we be on a mountain?” 

“Because it’s manly!” 

“I thought he might have a soft side and write him a letter,” Sero piped up from the other side of the countertop, smirking as Katsuki bared his teeth at him. “But I can see now that it was a long shot.” 

“I bet that he would do it in the middle of a fight, since Bakugou is, you know, like that .” Kaminari popped his head into the conversation, one hand hooked around his girlfriend’s waist. Katsuki noted that the two were fucking conjoined to each other these days.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“See what I mean?” The electric blonde gestured, laughing wildly. 

“That would have been manly too.” Kirishima nodded in approval. 

“Well, I was totally wrong. I could have sworn Bakugou would confess while we were still in high school. They were practically glued to the hip in our third year!” Jirou piped up. 

“There’s no way, babe!” Kaminari immediately protested. “Don’t you remember how Bakugou was such a baby about his feelings? He would have never— oh my god, don’t hurt me!” He barely dodged as Katsuki reached out to swipe his collar, immediately pushing through the room to escape out of reach.  

Jirou cackled at her boyfriend before following closely behind. 

“I feel like I can’t add anything to this conversation because, as you all know, I was the only one in our entire class who got it right,” Todoroki announced to no one in particular. 

To that, everyone boo’ed in unison. 

At least that was something they could all agree on, Katsuki smirked. Taking a sip from his drink, he lazily scanned the rest of the room; familiar voices and laughter converging into a singular background hum. They were adults now, most of them more colleagues than classmates. They saw each other in their hero costumes more than they saw each other in casual wear. But with everyone together like this, it almost felt like they were 18-years-old and back in the UA dorms again.

As his eyes landed back on his green-haired partner, his gaze softened. Maybe he should go and save his boyfriend though. The man was looking even more flustered by the minute, and it didn’t look like Round Face and Pinky over there were going to let up anytime soon. Maybe he’d even go over there and kiss him right in front of them. As revenge, that is. Revenge. That was definitely it. 

His rescue plans were interrupted by a soft clinking from the other side of the room. Kaminari was standing on their fucking living room table with a mug in one hand, and a spoon in another.

“I would like to propose a toast!” He proclaimed to the now silent room. 

“Oi, when did you get so fancy, Denki?” Sero hollered. 

“You better not break my fucking table, Dunce Face!” Katsuki threatened. 

Kaminari ignored both of them and continued with his speech. “Tonight, not only are we celebrating Bakugou’s victory and rise in the hero rankings—” 

“Twenty spots up, by the way!” Izuku piped up from across the room, beaming proudly while their friends whooped and cheered. Katsuki really wanted to go over to him right now. 

“Not only are we celebrating the union of the two most emotionally constipated members of Class A—” 

“What the fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed. 

“Yeah, about time!” Ochako yelled from across the room. 

“—but we’re also celebrating another union, because Kyouka and I are engaged!” 

All eyes were on Jirou who lifted her left hand shyly, revealing a shiny silver ring. The room erupted into absolute chaos. 

Katsuki made a mental note to send an apology text to their landlord as a huge wave rushed over to tackle the newly engaged couple in a group hug, yells of congratulations and wails of happy tears bouncing off the walls. Scratch that, he would probably need to apologise to the whole goddamn apartment complex. 

He was about to pull out his phone from his pocket when he felt a familiar pair of arms close around his waist. His perfect, adorable boyfriend smiled up at him and Katsuki felt his heart grow a million tons lighter. He leaned down to plant a kiss on his crown of curls, joining him in watching their ex-classmates threaten to ruin their apartment with their combined excitement. 

“You know, they’re wrong about the bet,” his sweetheart commented idly. 

“Hmm?” Katsuki hummed into his curls.

“Technically I was the one who confessed first, although I don’t even remember it.” Izuku scrunched his nose in embarrassment, and the blonde couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and peck it.

“S’fine. That one was just for me, so it doesn’t count.” Katsuki placed two fingers under his chin and tilted his boyfriend’s head up, delighting in the way his eyelashes fluttered instinctively. “These dipshits don’t need to know everything about us.”

Katsuki was a bastion of discipline, but it turned out he had a vice. He leaned in to capture his boyfriend’s soft, plush lips in a dizzying kiss that made the chaos around them fall silent. He could drown in the scent of Izuku’s stupid citrus shampoo, the feeling of his scarred hands bunching up his shirt in anticipation, the slight taste of wine on his tongue. God, he had waited the whole fucking night for this. 

Gasping apart and face flushed, Izuku hid his burning face in his chest. “Is it wrong if I want all our classmates to leave right now?” He mumbled. 

“You’re the one that wanted to hang out with these losers, remember?” Katsuki chuckled. “But when they leave, you can have all the time in the world to enjoy me later.” His voice dropped lower, his eyes sparking with interest as his boyfriend shivered. 

“Gross. Get a room, you two,” Todoroki remarked dryly as he walked into the kitchen. 

“T-Todoroki!” His boyfriend yelped. 

“Shut the fuck up! You’re the one in our apartment, dumbass!” Katsuki retorted immediately, pulling Izuku closer to his chest defensively. 

“Jeez, I think I liked you better when you were still pining for each other.” The calm man poured himself another glass, before raising it in cheers. “But thank you for the hospitality.” 

And hospitality they offered until the early hours of the morning. Like young, raucous heroes with the world in the palm of their hands, only learning the taste of regret as they dragged their half-dead bodies to their morning shifts and adult responsibilities, and Katsuki got to have the last laugh.

With him being eased back into hero work and Izuku not needing to work on the weekends, the two spent one final, quiet morning just for themselves. They kissed each other awake and held hands over breakfast and coffee, right before their lives unpaused and the world continued turning. Everything, the same as always. Yet different all the same.

Chapter Text

Years passed. 

The children who had fought in the war all those years ago were no longer children, while the adults who had lived through the end of the war passed on their wills to the new generation. Those who survived long enough to see both were out there making a change in the world.

Ochako, Iida, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu were making waves with their expansion of the quirk counselling  system. With Uravity leading the charge, children like Toga Himiko and Shimura Tenko would never grow up feeling like they didn’t have a place in society.

Meanwhile, Shoji had been awarded the Imamura Peace Prize for his peaceful resolution of heteromorph hate crimes in the country’s rural areas. Izuku had heard that, with additional support from Koda and Bondo from Class B, the project would be rapidly expanding into new regions. It made Izuku’s heart swell with pride.

In the heart of the city, Lemillion was the new Number #1 Pro Hero at the top of the charts. It reminded Izuku of the bright future that Sir Nighteye had foreseen all those years ago, because Mirio Togata was absolutely dazzling at the top. 

Everyone who knew him personally was determined to give their beloved Mirio-senpai a run for his money, although Todoroki was the closest in their class to achieving that feat. That hero that used to be known only as Endeavor’s son had truly stepped into his own spotlight over the years. 

Not to brag, but even Izuku was experiencing a historical moment of his own back at UA. Because Kota Izumi had just joined Class 1-A this year. Kota! 

The water gun hero-in-training had finally joined the UA Hero Course with grand ambitions to take over his parents’ legacy as Water Hose and become the greatest hero ever, just like his Deku-sensei. 

Sometimes he felt like an imposter when he looked into his student’s gleaming, hopeful eyes. The Deku that saved him from Muscular all those years ago was gone, just like the shy little kid who hated heroes at their summer training camp. 

In his place was a confident, driven teenager who had just become Class 1-A’s new class president, although he still wore those familiar red sneakers and slipped up occasionally calling Izuku “older brother” instead of “teacher”. 

Now, Izuku tried not to play favourites with his students, but it was heart-warming to see how far Kota had come. He still kept the letter from the young boy framed after all these years, right on his staff desk at UA. His first acknowledgement as a hero-in-training, and now, a small reminder to do his best as a hero every day. Even if being a hero these days looked a little different than what he envisioned. 

As his friends raced towards their futures, Izuku felt like the only person who stayed the same since graduation. He could tell that he was older. He filled out his suit properly now, he was a little taller, and his curls had long since grown over his scar. But it was only when his first batch of students graduated from UA, that the reality shock hit him tenfold. 

The students he had nurtured at the start of their hero journeys had moved on now. They would go on to become incredible Pro Heroes in a society working towards long-lasting peace. Some of them had signed on to become sidekicks at his friends’ agencies where they would do good, life-changing work. Maybe someday he’d even see them in the top rankings on the hero chart. 

All while he remained. Here at UA. 

Izuku wasn’t proud of the way he handled his first graduation ceremony as a teacher. He had managed to hold it together long enough to bid everyone farewell with a smile, but as soon as the final student left his sight, he felt the tears trickle down his face. He locked himself in his empty classroom, mortified and exhausted, unable to deal with the twisted feeling that had lodged itself in the pit of his stomach. 

So he cried and cried, until the sun set and he had no more tears left to give. Until Kacchan had exploded down the classroom door and swept him into a crushing hug without uttering a single word. Until his consciousness, and the grief, ceased in turn under the covers of their warm bed. 

But that was a long time ago! Izuku had taught and said goodbye to almost four classes by now! He was practically a pro! 

He had just celebrated his fourth anniversary as a teacher, and maybe it was a little early to be saying this, but he could see himself doing this for the rest of his life. His students were bright and sweet, he enjoyed making a meaningful impact on the next generation, and he even began working with Principal Nezu on his upcoming quirk research. 

To be honest, these days he was so busy with UA work that he hardly had the time to dwell on possible futures. Things were good now. Izuku was happy. 

And Kacchan, well, Kacchan had been nothing short of incredible. The two had been together since childhood, and officially dating since three years ago, but Izuku still felt like he was falling deeper in love with his partner every single day. The tiny apartment where their love blossomed had been their home for almost five years now, and recently, they had even started discussing moving someplace bigger. 

If Izuku was being honest, it wasn’t that they needed the extra space. He was more than happy to squeeze in with Kacchan; the tiny corridors and smaller rooms giving him an excuse to cling a little closer, to be a little needier. But when he thought about a bigger place, maybe a proper home with more rooms and a garden, he found that he liked the promise of something more than this. 

Ever since Kaminari and Jirou had gotten married in a whirlwind of an event that felt more like a music festival than a wedding, it had gotten Izuku thinking. Then Kirishima and Ashido settled down a few years later in a surprisingly traditional affair, and just last week, Ojiro and Hagakure had announced that they were engaged. The thought that began as a tiny sapling had taken firm root, and Izuku couldn’t stop it from arresting his mind in place. 

Since they were kids, he had always known that Kacchan would be a part of his life, but now he wanted a life with Kacchan. One where they were married and lived in a house together, and maybe even had a few kids who could grow up to be whoever they wanted to be. Before he knew it, he had caught himself absentmindedly searching up ring prices online. 

He felt bad for not contributing more to their new house fund, but he figured that could wait. They could always get married then move in later if Kacchan said yes. (Correction: When he said yes. His boyfriend had been insistent on him being more confident in himself lately.) 

Until then, he would cradle the dream of a gold engagement ring with an emerald inlay close to his chest until he could make it a reality. 

It would also give him some time to figure out what had been bothering his boyfriend. Kacchan had been restless lately, some days even borderline jumpy. Which was weird, because Izuku thought he was the jumpy one in their relationship. 

He thought maybe it had something to do with Best Jeanist retiring. He knew the former top hero meant more to his boyfriend than he let on. Maybe he was facing a crisis of direction after the denim-clad hero stepped down and passed on the agency to his sidekicks. 

Still, it was unlike Kacchan to be so stuck. Back when they were graduating, everyone had bet that he would be the first in their class to strike out on his own. Yet over half a decade later, with the stubborn fervour of a bull, the blonde continued to ground both feet in place and refused to move. Even Izuku couldn’t convince him otherwise. 

He was worried that Kacchan had been hiding something from him; both of them had the bad habit of trying to shield the other from the weight of the world. Or worse, maybe it was a work-related issue that he couldn’t even tell Izuku because he was technically a civilian. Whatever it was, he could only trust that Kacchan would speak to him when he was ready, and until then, he would wait for as long as he needed. 

“Midoriya, have you seen this?” 

The voice of their ex-homeroom teacher broke through his thoughts. Aizawa was holding out a phone screen to his face. The man was slightly older now and his hair shorter, although his unkempt appearance and tired aura remained the same as ever. 

Izuku squinted at the screen, only to see his boyfriend’s grumpy face staring back at him. Speak of the devil… and was that on TikTok ? 

“Your old friend is going to drop in the charts again,” the teacher commented dryly. The emphasis on old friend wasn’t missed. Aizawa was more than aware that his two most problematic students were a little more involved these days, but that didn’t mean he was about to butt his head in the awkward business of his student-turned-coworker’s love life. 

On his phone, the green-haired teacher watched as his partner threw a death threat at yet another reporter. That would bring this month’s total to fifteen. He sighed, sheepishly. 

“You spoke to him about changing the way he talks, right?” Izuku asked. 

“It was pointless. Now I’m pretty sure Todoroki will shoot ahead in the rankings,” Aizawa replied resignedly, before adding on. “It’s almost like Bakugou doesn’t want to rise the ranks. Even though he has enough potential to be in the top ten.”

Izuku listened silently, something in his head clicking a thousand miles away. 

There was a brief silence between the two coworkers, only broken by the sound of chattering students in the far distance. The evenings after classes ended were always so peaceful. 

“Do you ever miss it?” Aizawa asked quietly. 

Suddenly, Izuku doesn’t feel like a 25-year-old high school teacher of four years but a 17-year-old student being assessed by his scary homeroom teacher. Even after all this time, Aizawa still had a way of seeing through them better than they saw themselves.

“Do you?” He shot back a little defensively, instantly regretting it as a small breeze revealed the corner of his old teacher’s eye patch. 

“Not really, it was a lot of work,” he shrugged dispassionately. The faintest hint of wistfulness flashed across his face before it was replaced by his usual frank expression. 

Izuku realised, in that moment, for whatever unspeakable tragedies they had been through as students, there were likely a million more that his teacher had experienced that they didn’t even know about. Maybe this was something they would never know. 

“Years ago, back before I lost my quirk, I thought to myself,” he finally replied. “Even if I go back to being quirkless, at least I’ll still be able to use my experience to encourage others. I thought that was pretty cool in a way.”

Aizawa eyed him thoughtfully. Izuku felt like he was melting a little under his old teacher’s gaze. 

“Do you think I’m cool now, sensei?”

“I wish you were stricter with your students.” The teacher immediately shot him down, as blunt as always. “That’s important too, you know?”

“Ouch, no mercy.” Izuku laughed, placing a hand over his heart in mock pain. 

“The kids in our current society think that making it to UA will guarantee them a great future as heroes. We have to be strict on them to prevent them from having inflated heads. Got it?” 

“Aww, but you were so nice to us!” He joked. 

“And I regret not expelling half your class when I had the chance.” 

“But not me, right?” He peeked at his old teacher. 

An imperceivable expression crossed Aizawa’s face, like he had gone back to a time before the war, when he still held the fate of the legendary Class 1-A in the palm of his hands. Then he flashed his old student a familiar, sadistic grin. 

“Maybe.” 

“Just maybe?!” 

A few weeks later, the day finally arrived. 

When the message from the jeweller popped up on his phone, Izuku had to suppress a giddy smile before anyone noticed. Right now, he was the only person in the world who knew about his plans to propose to the blonde, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

After his boyfriend’s not-so-subtle proclamation on national television, the relationship between Deku and Dynamight was pretty much an open secret. The first couple of months had been a constant barrage of paparazzi and gossip columns, only fueled further by the fact that Kacchan quote-unquote didn’t give a damn what other people thought. He would kiss his boyfriend and grab his ass whenever he wanted, thank you very much. 

Even Izuku’s classes were in on it, once they realised they could ask their young teacher for anything as long as Dynamight was around. An extended assignment deadline here, an early lunch break there. It got to a point where his class would look forward to the explosive hero visiting as much as Izuku did. 

In exchange, Izuku got his revenge by giving Kacchan the chance to let loose on his students. Over the years, the explosive hero had built a reputation for running the toughest first year training course in the history of UA. It was a great training opportunity for his kids, and he got front row seats to watch his boyfriend in action. Izuku would consider that a win-win. 

But like all hero-related gossip, even they became old news eventually. These days, Dynamight was like an old piece of furniture around the UA campus; whether he was there to drop off Deku-sensei’s forgotten lunch, or to bring Deku-sensei out for dinner after classes were over. Some of the faculty (see: Present Mic) even joked that the blonde should just apply for a teaching position and get it over with. 

Today was a strange one though. It was clear to anyone that Deku-sensei was in an extra good mood, but his partner was nowhere in sight. And yet, Deku-sensei had wished everyone a happy break and let them out a whole ten minutes early at the end of school, completely oblivious to his students’ inquiring looks. 

Izuku couldn’t help himself. He had practically hopped and skipped the entire way across town to collect the first part of his plan, the gears in his head already churning in anticipation for the coming week. 

The plan was perfect. Next week, he and Kacchan had scheduled an entire week off together. It had been a while since either of them had taken a break, much less together. But through a cosmic stroke of luck, the summer semester had just come to an end at UA, and things were going unnaturally smoothly at the former Jeanist agency. Kacchan had applied for a break and it was approved almost instantly. One whole week of staying at home and doing absolutely nothing together. It sounded like heaven. 

Of course, his partner wasn’t aware of the secret second half of the plan. 

Izuku had already made reservations at his boyfriend’s favourite restaurant, a spicy ramen place across town that had great food and a cozy, intimate atmosphere. He planned to invite him on a post-dinner walk along the riverside, where a meteor shower was scheduled to happen that night. Izuku knew a secluded area with the best view, under a giant oak tree that overlooked the entire neighborhood. 

There, under the curtain of leaves and falling stars, he would get down on one knee and propose to the love of his life. He hoped he would say yes. 

It was a simple plan, but Izuku figured they had enough grand declarations to last them a lifetime. No more screaming over battlefields or crying in thunderstorms. He wanted this to be a quiet, beautiful moment just for the two of them, away from the prying eyes of the world. He was sure Kacchan would love it too. 

Now, one final errand before putting his plan into motion. 

All Might had just flown back from America and asked to meet up with his young mentee. They didn’t spend as much time together anymore, now that his old mentor had retired from UA, but they always made sure to meet up every time he was back in the country. 

The retired hero had even gotten into the habit of bringing him hero merchandise lately. Izuku idly wondered what it would be this time, maybe a wall scroll? 

The casualness of it only highlighted the absurd nature of it all. Izuku had been entrusted with the man’s greatest legacy, fought side-by-side in earth-shattering battles where life and death were on the line, and he still hung up posters of the man around his apartment . 

But somehow, the man he’d come to see as a father figure and the man he’d idolised since he was a child were two different people in his mind.

There was All Might the Hero, the untouchable Symbol of Peace. The omnipotent idol whose power couldn’t be summed up in words. Even when he wasn’t around, his strength pulled people to their feet, his bravery encouraged voices to speak up, and his smile protected the happiness of generations around the world. For as long as Izuku could remember, All Might had been his dream. 

Then there was Toshinori Yagi, the gentle mentor and father figure the world may never know. The teacher who dutifully trained him into bearing the world’s greatest burden, the person who cooked him katsudon and took care of him during the toughest time of his life, and the man who told young, quirkless Izuku that he could be a hero. 

He thought of asking All Might to walk him down the aisle. Well, all in due time. 

Without realising it, he found himself face-to-face with his mentor’s statue at Ground Zero. He had the habit of coming here when he was feeling nostalgic about his school days, but maybe today it was a little bit of All Might’s fault too. 

He used to visit this place more often, but he didn’t like to think about those times. When the city was in ruins around him, caked in dirt and blood like a second skin, he would come here and stare at the painful legacy that had been passed down to him, wondering whether he was making the same mistakes as his predecessor. Izuku shook the memories out of his head. He really shouldn’t keep his mentor waiting. 

Just as he turned to leave, out of the corner of his eye, a child tripped. Without thinking, his body immediately dived to catch him. Simultaneously, two white discs flew in their direction but fell a little short. As the child apologised and ran away, Izuku found himself stunned by a strong sense of dejavu. It had been a while since he experienced an adrenaline spike like that. 

“De… Huh?! Deku?! Wow! You’re a real guy!” An unfamiliar kid yelled in his face. 

The young student had giant white circles dotted across his hair and an ecstatic expression that Izuku recognised on himself from a long time ago. He quickly helped the kid up, noting the way his knees and elbows were peppered with dust too. 

The tidalwave of dejavu came rushing back as he took in the kid’s nervous expression. The way his lips quivered, eyes cast downwards as he spilled his worries and reasons for coming all the way to Ground Zero. His death-like grip on his middle school backpack. The antsy way he glanced at his hero Deku as if he couldn’t believe he was real.

It reminded Izuku of himself, he realised. A small smile tugged at his lips. 

“Can I be a hero just like the two of you?” The question left the middle school student hesitantly. 

It had been such a long time since Izuku had heard those words, but he remembered the feeling of speaking them like it was yesterday. The desperate hope of validation. The overwhelming relief of a dream coming true. He looked at the student in front of him and saw all his hopes and dreams on the line. 

“Don’t worry.” Izuku reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “Just now, you tried reaching out to that kid, right? You can be a hero.” 

The student’s eyes instantly sparkled to life, his lips wobbly with emotion. 

Izuku found that he had so much more that he wanted to tell him. That the road ahead might be bumpy, that he might have to overcome trials that didn’t have a start or end, and despite all that, the journey would be worth it. All of a sudden, his eyes flicked to the time on his wristwatch. 

“Oh shoot, I’m going to be late!” 

Wait, one last thing. 

“Do your best, kid!” He beamed at the wide-eyed student, hoping that he did enough to encourage the young hero. Maybe Izuku would see him in his class next year. He waved goodbye as he ran off to meet the hero who had inspired his own dream. 

When the green-haired teacher finally arrived back at the gates of UA, right back again where he started, the first thing he heard was Toshinori Yagi’s booming voice. The old man was as spirited as always, though the white streaks that crept into his pale blonde locks betrayed his true age. 

“What took you so long, Young Midoriya?!” 

“Sorry, I could’ve gone to the airport if you told me sooner!” 

“It’s alright! I was excited!” All Might waved off his apologies. “I wanted to bring you a surprise gift!” 

“Is it a wall scroll?” The young man perked up. Hopefully it was the limited-edition Bronze Age All Might wall scroll that had an extremely short run a few years ago in the States but was recently reprinted due to popular demand—

All Might proudly dropped a suitcase into his arms.

This was not a wall scroll. 

Not one to dawdle, his mentor jumped into an energetic explanation about how his friends overseas had collected the data from his fight with All For One eight years ago, which in turn, sparked a technological revolution in the support equipment industry. With the data from that battle, they could now replicate and simulate multiple quirks using technology alone, and best of all, they wanted Young Midoriya to pilot test the technology. Wasn’t that incredible!

Izuku was dazed. 

He vaguely gathered that All Might was talking about a suit, and that they wanted him to use the suit, although his brain was struggling to keep up with the rest of the hurried exposition. 

“But why— It looks so expensive—” He choked out, already feeling the tears welling in his eyes.

It was all so sudden. He was just picking up Kacchan’s ring, then talking to that kid, and now— 

He could barely even understand where this suit came from, much less where he came into the picture, and it looked like it cost a fortune. 

There was no way it could be— 

He had already long accepted that his dream would be—

“Young Midoriya, this suit was made with you in mind.” Toshinori smiled gently. “The research was led by our friend Melissa Shield in America alongside Young Hatsune Mei here in Japan, but the project itself was funded by the Class A alumni, with Young Bakugou at the heart of it!” 

Izuku felt his knees go weak in shock. 

Kacchan . 

The ring felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket all of a sudden. 

Toshinori clapped his hands on his mentees shoulders, shaking him out of his shock.  

“Your body still moves on its own, right?” He smiled knowingly. The two of them had been vessels for One For All. He knew this fact to be true, even without the connection of their shared quirk.  

It seemed like a lifetime ago when he had jumped into action, quirkless and weak, to save his childhood best friend who looked like he needed saving. When Izuku’s body moved without thinking, just like all the heroes he watched on television. When he inspired his own lifelong hero back into action, and his entire world turned on its axis. 

Izuku could barely manage a nod. 

His mind dug up a later memory, the morning dawning over Takoba Beach a few hours before the UA Entrance Exam. The feeling of complete triumph as he saw the end of his training reflected in the clean horizon. The day he earned One For All fair and square, even if he could hardly believe it.

He had been an absolute mess that day. Elated, exhausted, nervous, relieved, excited, and terrified all at once. His heart didn’t know what to feel. His mind didn’t know what to think. He had been standing right here on the precipice of his entire future, looking up at the same view of UA’s reflective towers, and wondering how the hell someone like him even made it here. 

Izuku really didn’t think he would get to experience these emotions again. 

“Take this to heart, kid. This, too, is a power you have earned fair and square,” Toshinori echoed his words from nine years ago with the same infectious grin. His mentor was nothing if not dramatic, after all. 

“All Might— I— Thank you!” Izuku tearfully tackled the man into a hug, one hand securely holding onto his new dream. “T-This is incredible! I don’t even know where to begin!” 

“Still such a crybaby.” The former Symbol of Peace chuckled, patting his mentee’s back fondly. “But I don’t believe it’s me you have to thank.” 

“No, you’re right,” Izuku sniffled, stepping back to wipe away the tears. Silently, he pulled out the ring box from his pocket and All Might’s eyes widened. “I’ll be seeing him later—“ he began to explain. 

“Why wait?” His mentor raised his eyebrows, gesturing at the suitcase in his hands. 

His mentee gaped at him. 

“Go ahead. It’s yours. Take it for a spin.” 

There was a brief pause as the gears in Izuku’s head began whirring. He grinned, opening the suitcase and took a good, hard look at his future for the first time. 

Looks like Kacchan would be getting one more dramatic declaration after all. 

Katsuki felt like his nerves were going to explode him from the inside out. 

The day had finally arrived. All Might should have flown in from America this afternoon, and if his calculations were accurate, Izuku would have received the super suit from their old teacher by now. Eight years of research, testing, and funding packed into one tiny suitcase. Fuck, he was so nervous he was going to be sick.

They had wanted Katsuki to give it to him, as the one who came up with the idea, but he had immediately refused. The suit was a representation of Izuku’s lifelong dream. Katsuki insisted that it had to be All Might who gave it back to him.

The old man had the gall to tease him about it. “Seems like you have a romantic side after all, Young Bakugou,” he boomed, clapping the blonde on the back.

But it wasn’t just that. The project had grown far beyond the crazy idea he had while high on painkillers in his hospital bed. Now, the results of this suit stood a chance to impact the entire support equipment industry at large, and nobody could think of a better pilot tester than the person who had once commanded seven quirks at once. 

Class A had jokingly called it The Deku Effect. Katsuki had no other explanation for it. 

None of them except All Might had even seen the suit in person yet. They had requested the design to be as close as possible to Izuku’s old suit, but they hadn’t seen anything beyond blueprints and shitty videos sent over text messages. They wanted Izuku to be the first.

Katsuki half-wished that he had selfishly agreed to give him the suit. He wanted so badly to be there with him right now. To see his gorgeous smile as he received their eight-year-long surprise, to hold him close as he inevitably bawled like a big baby about it. But he was a little preoccupied right now. 

Unbeknownst to most in their circle, Katsuki had been working on a second secret project while everyone worked together on the first. 

This second project was a fucking long shot if he was being honest, because he didn’t even know if Izuku remembered any of this. But ever since they were four and fell headfirst into the vibrant world of heroes, Katsuki and Izuku had dreamed about starting a Hero Agency together. 

He wouldn’t blame him if he forgot. The dream, and their friendship, had died when Izuku discovered he was quirkless. 

Yet inexplicably, over the years, the spark of that familiar dream began to flicker back to life. As their relationship evolved from enemies to classmates, classmates to rivals, rivals to best friends, and best friends to something more, that tiny flicker turned into a roaring flame that threatened to swallow his heart whole. 

Katsuki had always planned to leave the choice up to Izuku. It was his life, his decision. The man could turn down the suit they had worked on for eight years and he wouldn’t even be mad about it. But it pissed him off like nothing else that Izuku never got the choice. He had decided that he was going to give the man so many choices, he wouldn’t even know what to do with them. 

So the blonde grit his teeth and got to work. 

He was thankful that Best Jeanist took him under his denim-clad wing after graduation, not just as a sidekick but as a mentee. He taught Katsuki everything he needed to know about starting his own agency, throwing him into every role and responsibility possible to satiate his need for information. It would have taken him years to learn the ropes anywhere else, but with help from the Number #1 hero, he accomplished it in two. 

The waiting was the easy part, because Bakugou “Kacchan” Katsuki was nothing if not a stubborn son of a bitch. Even as the rest of their classmates began to leave their old agencies to strike out on their own, Katsuki wouldn’t budge. He had decided he wasn’t going to create his own damn agency until Izuku was right by his side, and he didn’t. Instead, he busied himself with working hard and saving money. 

Falling in love with Izuku along the way was inevitable. Izuku loving him back felt like an impossible dream come true. In the end, the years flew by without him even realising it. 

Then all at once, their eight-year-long dream suddenly felt real. The final iteration of the suit was greenlit at every stage, Shield and Hatsune gave it their last stamp of approval, and All Might had begun making flight plans back to Japan. It had been a goddamned miracle that not even a peep about the suit made it back to Izuku’s ears this entire time, which meant the team was about to complete a perfect run on their eight year secret. Katsuki barely knew what to do with himself. 

He was pretty sure Izuku had been onto him these last few weeks. He had been so unlike himself, nervous and jumpy like a fucking nerd. Katsuki blamed it all on work stress and hoped to god that his boyfriend took the bait. 

But it seemed like it had worked out in the end. There was no mayday text from All Might so he could assume that everything went smoothly. Now all he had to do was capture this stupid villain, clock out of work, then find his Izuku. He could do this. 

Except this villain was a pain in his fucking ass. He had some warping quirk that activated whenever he touched his fingers to skin, teleporting the target somewhere random within a 1 kilometre radius. Now his team was split up and Katsuki had already gotten warped three fucking times, and he swore he was going to explode this guy into bits if he heard his obnoxious laugh one more time. 

Suddenly, a flash of yellow and green sprinted out of the corner of his eye. His heart panged for no apparent reason, until an achingly familiar Black Whip prototype reached out to secure the villain in place. 

No skin contact, no warping. 

The heroes won, but Katsuki found himself stunned where he stood. 

Forest green curls and a tattered yellow cape whipped around in the wind, every inch of defined muscle covered in dark green carbon fibre plating, leading up to a pair of white gauntlets and steel-reinforced boots. The hero handed the villain over to an equally stunned police officer, who definitely didn’t have the redebut of Pro Hero Deku on his bingo card today. 

“It looked like you needed saving.” Izuku approached him, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“You cheeky brat.” Katsuki smirked. 

His eyes trailed down the familiar sight, a gloved hand dazedly reaching out to feel the sturdy armor. Minus a few minor adjustments, it looked like a perfect replica of Deku’s old suit from eight years ago; the team had really outdone themselves. 

“You really couldn’t wait a few fuckin’ hours?”

“I couldn’t wait.” His boyfriend replied simply, his smile wobbling a little before he enveloped Katsuki in a crushing hug. “Kacchan, it feels so incredible. This suit— How did you— It’s too much— I can’t even—” he gushed. 

“Full sentences, ‘Zuku,” he chuckled. 

“How long have you and the others been working on this?”

“Eight years.” 

“E-Eight years?” Izuku pushed him away at arm’s length, two hands clamped firmly on his shoulders. The green-haired hero looked absolutely floored. “You worked on this and kept it a secret for eight years?!”

“S’nothing.” The blonde looked away, suddenly feeling embarrassed under the scrutiny of those wide eyes. 

“No, this is amazing. You’re amazing!” Izuku blubbered, tears starting to drip down his cheeks. “How did you even afford this? It must have cost a fortune! I can’t believe you would all do this for me. Wait, was that why you took on all those extra shifts? I don’t even deserve this. How do I even begin to repay all of you for this?”

“Shut up for a second, idiot,” Katsuki placed both hands on his freckled cheeks before his partner could spiral any further. He gently wiped the tears away, like he had done a million times before. “It’s really fuckin’ simple. You don’t repay us. You earned this fair and square, didn’t the old man tell you?” 

“H-he did, but I still can’t believe—” 

“Then you better believe it quick, because it’s not like we built this suit for anyone else.” His eyes flicked down to the telltale green colour scheme and signature white gauntlets. 

“B-but you hated the night shifts!” Izuku wailed, tears forming again in the corners of his eyes. Katsuki felt his big, mean heart melt all at once. 

“Oh, c’mere,” he sighed in amusement. He pulled his boyfriend into a tight embrace, finally letting him weep to his heart’s content. “You’re such a big crybaby.” 

“All Might said the same thing,” he mumbled bashfully. 

“I can just imagine the headlines now. Pro Hero Deku, Saviour of Japan, the new Symbol of Peace, major fuckin’ crybaby,” he teased. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku protested, bursting into a series of watery giggles. Katsuki laughed brightly, pulling him closer as they swayed in place. 

He might have lied when he said that he wouldn’t care if Izuku accepted the suit. In truth, he wanted Izuku to love the suit. He wanted it to be so undeniably perfect that he wouldn’t think twice about whether he had earned it or deserved it, or any of that self-deprecating crap. 

He needed Izuku to see for himself what everyone else saw in him: that he had always been a hero, and he never stopped being a hero. Not from the time he ran out like an idiot to save Katsuki back in middle school, and definitely not now as he gave up on his own dreams to grant them to the next generation. Well, fuck that. Katsuki would claw his dream out of concrete with his bare hands for the rest of his life if that would make Izuku happy. 

And maybe, in this tiny selfish heart, he really just missed being a hero with his best friend.

“Hey ‘Zu,” Katsuki called his name gently. He pulled back so he could get a better look at his partner’s face, chuckling softly when he caught sight of his puffy eyes and red cheeks. He gently traced a thumb over his freckles, marveling at the way the evening light reflected in his teary, emerald eyes. Katsuki thought he looked so soft like this. 

Without thinking, the words slipped out of his mouth. 

“Start an agency with m—” 

“Will you marry m—“

The two froze. They blinked at each other, then blinked again. What the fuck . 

“Wait, what did you say?” Izuku broke the stalemate, hesitantly. 

“What did you— Shit— I was going to ask you to start an agency with me now that you have the suit, but wait—” Katsuki choked out. He felt like his heart was going to explode a second time. “That’s not fucking important. What the fuck did you say?” 

The green-haired hero hid his face behind both hands, the tips of his ears turning a bright, contrasting red. “God, it’s too embarrassing to repeat.” 

“I swear to god . Izuku, if you don’t tell me right now—” 

“Wait— Fine!” His partner waved his hands around in ceasefire. “Let me— Let me just show you.” 

Katsuki gaped as his boyfriend pulled out a small ring box from his waist pouch and got down on one knee, in the middle of the fucking sidewalk. 

“I swear I didn’t plan this,” he started nervously. “Not for today, that is. Actually this is kind of the opposite of my plan. I just, well, I just love you so much and I was so overwhelmed after receiving the suit and hearing that you were at the heart of the project, that when All Might said I should just come straight over here to find you, I just did it without thinking—“ 

Katsuki wanted to tell him to stop rambling and get to the point, but the words caught in his throat. 

“Bakugou Katsuki.” His angel smiled up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes. “Kacchan.” 

He nodded dumbly, the familiar nickname sending his heart into orbit.

“Kacchan, it’s always been you for me. We’ve been together our whole lives now, and I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?” 

The entire world went quiet. 

Katsuki felt gentle fingers reach up to brush away tears before he realised he was crying. He instinctively moved to turn his face away, but Izuku cupped his face so softly, leaning in to kiss away his tears in an action that was so painfully tender. 

“Who’s the crybaby now?” His partner teased, their foreheads pressing together gently. Katsuki could smell the scent of his citrus shampoo. 

“I hate you,” he mumbled. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Fuck— Of course— Yes, you idiot. Yes, of course I’ll fucking marry you. Now, kiss me.” 

“Hold on, ring first.” 

Izuku pulled out the most gorgeous golden ring with an emerald inlay the colour of his eyes. 

“So you can always carry a part of me with you,” he explained it so sweetly, barely getting the glove off his hand and the ring on his finger before he was dragged into a furious kiss. 

Katsuki kissed Izuku like he was seething, and he kind of was. He felt like he was going deranged from the sudden onslaught of intense emotion, his mind relentlessly snapping between the cold metal on his ring finger and the sound of Japan’s sweetheart gasping into his mouth. 

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Katsuki grumbled. He pulled Izuku into another open-mouthed kiss, pausing to devour the sharp inhale as his back hit the wall behind them. His hands moved to cage either side of his partner’s stupid perfect face, as if it made this scene any more appropriate for semi-broad daylight. 

“Today was supposed to be my turn to change your life and make all your dreams come true and all that crap, so why am I the one bawling my eyes out because of you, huh?” he murmured, dipping his head to nip at his jawline, then his neck. 

“But Kacch—” Izuku’s voice was cut off with a whine. 

“Eight goddamn years of working my ass off and you decide,” he dragged Izuku into a head-dizzying kiss, “to fucking upstage me,” another provoking kiss, “with a fucking proposal.” 

A pair of hands travelled up his shoulders and knotted in the roots of his hair. Katsuki groaned as the fingers firmly tugged his head back, pulling their lips apart for a brief moment. 

“Guess that means I win this time,” Izuku stared up at him, steely and breathless, with a hint of challenge in his eyes. 

The blonde had a vague memory from years ago, of hushed confessions in hospital rooms. This competitive little twerp , he smirked. But as he leaned in for round two, he found that his path was blocked by an insistent hand. 

“—and uh, we kind of have an audience, Kacchan.” Izuku winced, his eyes nudging him towards the growing crowd of scandalised onlookers. There were definitely a few people who did not look happy that Japan’s top heroes were making out in their suburban neighborhood. 

Well, shit, the media was going to have a field day with this. 

Reluctantly, Katsuki pushed himself off the wall and gathered whatever fragments of his dignity remained. “Okay, show’s fuckin’ over! Leave me and my fiancé alone!” He announced loudly to the crowd. 

Glancing over at the green-haired hero, he finally noticed the obvious aftermath in flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Katsuki could barely suppress the inappropriate swell of pride in his chest. The thought of their one week vacation suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than before. 

He reached out his hand to his love. “C’mon, Izu— Deku!”

His fiancé took his hand with a shy smile and Katsuki felt like he was falling in love all over again. “Hey, do you want to see what this suit can really do?” His lover asked, a familiar mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Yeah?” 

“Okay, hold on tight.” 

“What the fuck for—?!” 

Katsuki found himself swept off his feet as Izuku launched them into the air like they weighed absolutely nothing, delirious laughter forced out of his throat at the shock of it all. His fiancé muttered something about Float and Fa Jin in a way that felt like they had travelled back in time.

Izuku’s bright yellow cape whipped around in the wind, and the grin on his face was freedom incarnate. Katsuki wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

Chapter Text

Breaking News: Pro Hero Deku Debuts New Suit & Engagement

Everything To Know About Deku & Dynamight’s Explosive Engagement

The Wonder Duo Break The Internet: New Suit, New Agency, New Engagement?!

“DekuMight Is End-Game!”: Fans Share Their Thoughts On Deku & Dynamight’s Engagement 

Close Your Eyes! Pro Heroes Deku & Dynamight Get Hot And Heavy After Engagement 

Izuku casually scrolled through the headlines on his phone, humming in approval or giggling wildly when he saw ones he liked. The television played softly in the background, neither of them paying much attention as his fiancé massaged random patterns into his thighs. His palms were warm to the touch, the seasons starting to turn cold again. 

“Ooh, I’m saving this one,” he tapped on a picture that highlighted the definition in Kacchan’s arms. He turned his phone to show his lover, biting back a laugh at the way his cheeks flushed light pink. 

“So fuckin’ cringe,” he groaned. 

“Look, people are even making fan art!” Izuku exclaimed, scrolling rapidly through an article compiling fans’ reactions to their engagement. He squealed when he saw that his favourite DekuMight fan artist had posted a new artwork congratulating them on the engagement, instantly saving it to a dedicated folder on his phone. 

“What— How the fuck— Do these people not have a life?” 

“I wasn’t the one who decided to get hot and heavy in public, Kacchan,” Izuku scoffed, turning his phone to show him the scandalous headline. 

“I said I was sorry,” he grumbled. 

“Oh, I know. I just think it’s funny,” he snickered, not noticing that a dangerous expression had overtaken his partner’s face. 

In a single fluid movement, Kacchan launched at him from across the couch, safely tossing aside his phone before fingers reached out to violently attack his sides with tickles. Izuku laughed like a maniac, gasping desperately for air as he violently tapped the blonde’s shoulder for a time-out. 

“P-please! I surrender!” 

“Now are you gonna pay attention to me instead of your fuckin’ phone?” His fiancé muttered, planting a barrage of kisses all across his neck leading up to his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah. You big baby,” Izuku smiled dopily, pulling him down for a soft, enveloping kiss. “I’m all yours.” 

The news of their engagement had spread faster than expected. Izuku supposed this is what happened when you were two former war heroes and one of the most well-documented couples in the country. He was suddenly grateful for their week-long vacation. He did not want to face any of his students right now. 

At least for now, they had the luxury of dealing with it by not dealing with it. Except for their parents, who they promised to visit this week, the two of them responded to everyone with the same message: a picture of Izuku and Katsuki with the ring held up between them. Then they promptly shut off their phones and slept in for the first time in years. 

They talked, a lot. About the suit, about the eight year long surprise, and whether they should get married or start an agency first. The discussions drove Izuku into a giddy fit; he hadn’t been this excited for the future in a while. But eventually, the conversation rounded back to the proposal.  

“You said that you weren’t planning to propose, right?” Kacchan asked, his fingers combing through the green curls on his lap. They were in the middle of watching an old All Might documentary they had already watched a million times.

Izuku closed his eyes, the soothing motions threatening to send him to sleep. “Yeah, I had something completely different planned. For tomorrow actually.” 

“You cheeky little— you were gonna propose to me this week?” Kacchan brushed against the ticklish spot on his neck, causing the green-haired hero to erupt into giggles again. “So what was it?” 

“What was what?” 

“Your plan.” 

The gears began to whir in Izuku’s head until an idea clicked into place. “Wait, why don’t I show you?” 

“Hah?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be fun! Let’s go on a date tomorrow, Kacchan!” He kicked his feet in excitement, sitting up to grab his partner's face in both hands, almost colliding heads in the process. “If you want, I can propose to you again and maybe this time you won’t even cry,” he teased. 

Kacchan rolled his eyes. 

“You’re lucky I love you otherwise I’d fuckin’ murder you,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss the words out of Izuku’s annoying mouth. 

On the morning of the big day, the green-haired hero woke up alone. His sleep-addled mind barely even registered it, one arm reaching out to pull his lover closer, only to find nothing but cold, empty sheets. Izuku padded sleepily out of their bedroom, his tiny voice echoing throughout the apartment. 

“Kacchan?” 

A yawn caught in his throat as he turned the corner, coming face to face with the largest bouquet of sunflowers he’d ever seen in his life. He gasped, his eyes blinking wide open. He didn’t even notice his fiancé cooking breakfast next to him. 

“Got 'em this morning.” Kacchan glanced over his shoulder. “You like ‘em?” 

“Like them? I love them, Kacchan!” he gushed, immediately pulling out his phone to snap ten million pictures. Izuku squealed even more when he saw that the blonde was cooking up his favourite breakfast. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Well, if you’re going to propose to me again, we better do it properly this time.” 

Izuku felt a pang of affection stake him through the heart. How did he get so lucky? He reached over to embrace his fiancé from the back, sighing contentedly as he breathed in a faint caramel scent, nuzzling closer to place a firm kiss to the back of his neck. 

“You’re perfect, Kacchan.” 

“I know,” he smirked. “Now, eat.” 

Izuku happily sat down as they settled into breakfast, eyes wandering back to the big, yellow sunflowers again and again. He thought his face might get permanently stuck this way if he smiled any harder. 

“So what’s the big plan today, ‘Zu?” Kacchan asked, joining him at the table. 

“Well, it was going to start with us sleeping in and cuddling, although I don’t think that’s happening anymore,” he replied, drooling at the breakfast spread in front of him. “So I was thinking, maybe we could play that video game you bought a month ago.” 

“Hell yeah.” A few years into adulthood, the couple had realised that the real tragedy of growing up was not having any time to play video games. What was the point of earning money then? 

“Then at night we have a reservation at your favourite restaurant.” 

“That ramen place?” 

He nodded through a mouthful of food. 

Kacchan celebrated with a small fist pump. Izuku smiled lovingly at his dorky fiancé. 

“After that,” he paused, lost in thought. He had checked the weather forecast before sleeping last night. The plan was still good to go. “Well, after that is a surprise.” 

The blonde narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay, nerd, keep your secrets.” 

Izuku giggled. “I promise it’ll be worth it, Kacchan!” 

“Fine,” he relented. “At least I know how to make up for the cuddling.” 

The green-haired man found himself, an hour later, in his favourite place in the whole wide world. Sitting between his lover’s legs, bodies pressed warmly together as Kacchan rested his chin on his shoulder. He leaned back comfortably, enjoying the way the blonde’s soft, spiky hair tickled his neck as he listened idly to him muttering about the game. 

Not for the first time, Izuku realised how much they adopted each other’s habits over the years. The same way his lips became a little looser, his words a little tougher whenever he got into a fight; he would catch Kacchan muttering analysis under his breath when he became extra focused. Sometimes he had to double take when he caught a reflection of his lover’s smile in his own toothy grin; the same way he recognised a familiar, sweet look on the blonde when he caught him looking at him. 

Maybe that was love. When a person loved you enough to always keep a part of you with them. Bit by bit, Izuku would gladly trade himself away so he could find himself again, reflected in his lover.

“That’s so cringe, Kacchan,” he snickered, hours later. 

“What?!” his lover’s voice was muffled as he pulled on a sweater. “You got a ring on me, I want all these fuckers to know that you’re mine too.” 

They were getting ready to leave for dinner when his fiancé had dumped a Dynamight hoodie in his lap. Izuku had figured out pretty early into the relationship that this was Kacchan’s secret guilty pleasure. The way the blonde thought he was being subtle as he checked out his partner wearing his merchandise sent Izuku into a fit of giggles, but he couldn’t deny that he loved the extra attention. 

He made sure to wear plenty of Dynamight merch after that, giddy with the way Kacchan seemed to be looser with his affections, showering him in kisses and cuddles even in front of all of their friends. It had taken him weeks to realise that Izuku was onto him, and it had taken a lot of kiss-bribes before he was forgiven. Izuku didn’t regret a single second of it. 

Now it was a running joke between them. When either of them wanted a little more affection, a piece of Dynamight merchandise would suddenly fly his way. Izuku obliged every single time. 

If Kacchan held his hand a little tighter than normal on the way to dinner, or sat a little closer when they got comfortable in their usual spot at the back, Izuku didn’t comment on it. Instead, he basked proudly in the warm glow of being loved by Bakugou Katsuki. 

Although in retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision in the world to display so much public affection after going viral on the internet just a few days ago. Definitely not when the green one was wearing the most obvious Dynamight hoodie in the world, and the blonde one was sporting a shiny golden ring for everyone to see. 

They were spotted the moment they were trying to pay the elderly couple that ran the ramen shop. Kacchan was engaged in a heated argument with the old lady, a common occurrence for the two regulars. She insisted on treating them as congratulations for their engagement, while the explosive hero was having none of it, slamming too much money on the table and trying to get her to reveal her secret recipe to him so that she could retire already.

Izuku usually found this song and dance amusing, but something about the atmosphere sent warning signals to his brain. He quickly scanned the room, noticing an alarming number of hushed conversations and phones being whipped out. 

He tapped his fiancé on the shoulder, trying to communicate his panic with his eyes. But to his horror, a crowd had already begun to gather, a few brave souls already inching closer to try and catch them in a conversation. 

“Follow me!” 

In a split second decision, Izuku grabbed the blonde’s arm and dragged them out of the restaurant. Laughter rang out through the night air as they broke out into a run, quickly outpacing and losing sight of the crowd of nosy onlookers, feet pumping towards their next destination.

The base of the oak tree loomed above them, not a soul in sight except for the young hero couple leaning against its large roots, aching from laughing too hard and throats dry from gasping to catch their breath. The lights of the city twinkled at their feet, the distant noise reduced to a quiet hum. Izuku realised belatedly that they didn’t get to pay for dinner after all. 

“Where the fuck are we, Izu?” Kacchan leaned back, his chest still heaving from the sudden adrenaline spike.

Izuku took a moment to take in the familiar view. It had been a lifetime ago since he last stood on top of this hill. He had stumbled upon it one day while on patrol, the entire area secluded, with only the view of the city to accompany him. On the days when the weight of his legacy was too much to bear and he needed to be alone, he would come here to think. 

“I used to visit here a lot when I was, uh, being a vigilante.” He made exaggerated air quotes at the word vigilante . He sat down to join his fiancé on the grass, their backs against the oak and their shoulders pressed together. 

“You mean when you were being a fucking dumbass,” Kacchan shot back, raising his eyebrows challengingly. 

“I kind of was,” he admitted. “I’m lucky that Kacchan and everyone else was there to save me.” 

“Wouldn’t be much of a partner if I didn’t,” the blonde muttered, lacing their hands together and squeezing tightly. Izuku rested his head on his shoulder, turning their interlaced hands around to admire the way the green gemstone sparkled, even in the faint light. 

“I was shocked when I found out you and the entire class basically jumped the Number #1 hero to steal my GPS tracker,” he chuckled. 

“I would’ve done worse,” Kacchan replied simply, before adding on softly. “I would’ve done anything for you, ‘Zu.” 

“I know.”

The two fell silent. Izuku forgot how quiet it was up here. Nothing but the distant city lights blinking at their feet and the glowing moon above to keep them company. He breathed in deeply, feeling all the stress in his body evaporate in the cool night air. 

“So what the fuck are we doing here, ‘Zu?” Kacchan asked finally. 

“Well, we were supposed to have a nice, romantic stroll after dinner along the riverside before coming here, but then we got noticed—“

“Fuckin’ tourists,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Well, it’s fine. As long as we reached here in time for—“ Izuku jolted to his feet, noticing the first streaks of light painting across the sky. The meteor shower. 

“Kacchan! Look!” 

In a bright flash, the entire night sky was taken over by a wave of shooting stars. He had read that this happened when bits of comet debris burned up in the planet’s atmosphere. Izuku had never seen a more beautiful kind of destruction, save for the expression on his lover’s face in the heat of the battle. Even the city lights seemed to pale in comparison. 

“It’s gorgeous,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. 

“It really is,” his partner replied softly. 

A cheeky thought suddenly occurred to him. “Hey Kacchan, will you marry m—“ he began jokingly. 

Izuku turned around and gasped, the sight enough to knock the air out of his lungs. 

Under the curtain of leaves and falling stars, Bakugou Katsuki was down on one knee. His crimson eyes seemed to pierce through the dark, right through Izuku’s tender heart, only his flushed cheeks betraying his otherwise well-concealed nerves. In his fingers, he gently held up a gold engagement ring with a matching ruby inlay.

“Kacchan, when— How—” Izuku stammered, clapping a hand over his mouth as tears began to form. 

“I pulled a couple of favors.” 

The blonde reached out to hold his hand, pressing a whisper of a kiss to his ring finger. “Midoriya Izuku,” he began, “I can’t believe I let you fucking beat me to this.” 

The green-haired hero let out a watery giggle, one hand moving to wipe away the tears that were already trickling down his cheek. 

“You are everything to me. You are the sun, the stars, the sky, and the whole fucking universe combined. You are so bright and so fucking beautiful that it freaked me out as a kid. I just couldn’t understand why someone so good would stick with someone so bad, unless you were a complete fucking moron—“

Izuku was cry-laughing at this point. “Is this a proposal or a roast, Kacchan?” 

“The long and short of it is I don’t deserve you, ‘Zuku. But I’ll fucking work my ass off for the rest of our lives to make sure I earn this spot next to you. I swear it to you, I’ll make you so goddamn happy you won’t even remember what sadness feels like.” 

Izuku fell to his knees at that, the tears racing down his cheeks. “You don’t need to do anything , Kacchan. You have me. I’m yours,” he croaked out, leaning in to press their foreheads together. 

“I’ve been yours since the day we met, ‘Zu,” the blonde whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t even fucking know it ‘cause I was such a brat, but our entire lives, it’s always been just you for me,” Kacchan echoed Izuku’s words from a few days ago, his ruby eyes glistening with tears. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Kacchan! Of course— God— Yes!” Izuku nodded furiously, wiping away tears as his fiancé slipped the ring onto his finger. 

The look on Kacchan’s face was unbearably soft as he reached up to cup his face, gently brushing away the tears that had settled there. “My sweet crybaby,” he murmured, pulling Izuku into a tight embrace. His lover shushed away the tears as they rocked gently under the leaves of the big oak tree, with only the falling stars in the sky to act as their witness. 

Months later, Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki would get married. All Might would walk his mentee down the aisle and everyone would cry their eyes out. It would be the wedding of the decade. The two would open their own agency soon after, giving Todoroki some serious competition at the top of the rankings. Izuku still taught once in a while. His students never complained when his husband made a cameo in the classroom. 

Years later, they would start their own family and finally fulfill Bakugou Mitsuki’s dream of having grandkids. Their child would meet their first best friend, and the couple would see a hint of themselves in the two children. Their kid would grow up in an era of lasting peace, raised with the freedom to be anyone they wanted to be. Although between the two of us, they really wanted to become a top hero like their dads. 

But that was a distant future, and for once, the future could wait. For now, Izuku would rather stay under this curtain of leaves, cradled in the arms of his lover with the stars raining down on his heart.