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And there it is! Bakugou Katsuki’s “King Dynamight’s” signature move!

Will Tetsutetsu be able to withstand the furious attack?!

The crowd goes crazy, cheers and screams rising around Izuku in an impenetrable wall of noise until the commentator’s voice is completely drowned out.

He doesn’t need to hear it to know the answer, though. He can see it with his own eyes.

Kacchan delivers the last of his cluster of punches, and Tetsutetsu wobbles uncertainly on his feet for two or three seconds before he hits the floor flat. The curve of Kacchan’s mouth as the referee grabs his wrist is pure sin. The smirk so devastating several women around him clutch at each other.

Izuku feels for them. His knees feel a little weak too. They always do whenever he sees his best friend fight.

Kacchan was born for it. Winning was just a state of being for him. He wasn’t born for the spotlight; he was the light. He’s the brightest thing Izuku’s ever known, and sometimes it blows his mind all over again, just how lucky he is to have been able to stay right beside him through it all.

Part of it was a promise made when they were just five years old, “I don’t want to be without Kacchan.” Kacchan looked at him as if he were stupid, “Then, don’t.” As if it was that easy.

And since they are still together twenty years later, Izuku supposes it was.

But, of course, there were also the years spent studying physiotherapy while Kacchan crushed every boxing tournament he participated in. And the late nights talking on the phone when they couldn’t see each other. The casual devotion they kept giving the other no matter the time and distance or the other people around them, and, well– Kacchan throwing a tantrum and refusing any other physiotherapist once Izuku finally graduated definitely helped in getting him here in this moment too.

And yeah, part of him will never get over it.

One didn’t just get to know Bakugou Katsuki and be over it.

Kacchan is–

“Hey,” a rough, warm hand lands on his back, Kirishima’s face leaning towards him a moment later, “You still here? We better go before Bakugou starts pouting because he can’t find you.”

Izuku blinks away the stars in his eyes and smiles at Kacchan’s teammate. “Right, we wouldn’t want that,” he says drily.

Kirishima laughs, hooking his big arm around Izuku and steering him towards the changing rooms.

They see Kacchan on the way there, being surrounded by reporters shoving mics in his face and fans hovering with markers and things they want him to sign. Izuku sees boxing gloves, notebooks, several copies of the Bakugou Katsuki autobiography that came out last year and – he cringes – a woman is giggling with her friend holding a bra… He hopes Kacchan doesn’t see her, or that is going to be another hater in the making.

Kacchan hates when fans aim sexual fantasies at him. He’s been pretty vocal about it, too. This lady should know. Ugh, now she’s just gonna go and ruin his best friend’s mood just because she can’t exercise a little decorum.

“Izu, where are you going?”

Izuku barely hears Kirishima as he makes a beeline towards her. She’s on the outskirts of the group, so he reaches her without attracting much attention. “Hello,” he deploys one of his sweetest smiles.

The lady gives him a onceover and raises an eyebrow, “Hi.”

Oh, she has no idea who he is. Good, the less she links him to Kacchan, the better. He sends a pointed look at the bra in her hands. “Are you aware that making Mr Bakugou sign that can be considered sexual harassment?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me, lady.” Izuku’s smile dips. “Mr Bakugou expressed in multiple interviews that he hates signing underwear and intimate body parts, and actually asked his fans to respect his boundaries. So why can’t you do that?”

The lady’s face turns a horrible shade of red. Izuku just stares at her, and predictably she goes off. “Who do you think you are, huh? I can do whatever I want, I’ve followed him for years–”

“So, what, you think he owes you shit?”

The lady chokes on the rest of her tirade to frown. “What?”

Izuku mentally berates himself for losing it enough to swear and tries to recover, smiling a little more sincerely. “Supporting him for all that time was your choice, he didn’t ask you to. So, you don’t get to make demands of him and make him uncomfortable just because you feel like you deserve something from him.”

The lady’s eyes fill with tears. She looks down at the bra, biting down hard at her bottom lip. Izuku winces internally; he hates making people cry, but if it’s to protect Kacchan in any little way he can, he’ll do it. Again, and again.

“I thought he’d be okay with it because it’s in his colours, see?”

It is indeed orange with black accents. “Yeah,” Izuku says, kindly. “It’s very pretty.”

Finally, the lady thrusts the bra at him and Izuku takes it, holding it along the palm of his hands as if it were a dead ferret. “Uh.”

“You keep it,” the lady says, “Or I don’t know if I can keep myself from giving it to him.”

Izuku lets out a strained laugh, “It’s your bra, I don’t–”

“It’s new, I promise, and I have like two more just like it. At home.”

“Right.” Izuku looks at the bra. What the heck is he supposed to do with it now?

“HAHAHA,” Inasa’s booming laugh saves him from having to say anything else. He grabs Izuku by the shoulders and throws a salute at the ladies.

Kirishima beside him smiles brightly at them. “We need to go, now, but your thoughtfulness is appreciated, ladies.”

And with that, they turn Izuku around and push-walk him the rest of the way to the changing rooms. Izuku’s still holding the bra on his palms. Sero standing by the entrance sees it and runs to him to take it from him. “You’re attracting attention,” he snorts, “What even is this.”

“IZUKU GOT IT FROM A FAN!” Inasa explains unhelpfully.

Kirishima pipes in, “Well, he kind of demanded it.”

“I did not!” Izuku hisses, snapping out of his embarrassed haze. “She was going to give it to Kacchan and ruin his mood, so I just…”

“Took it from her?” Sero finishes with a wide grin.

Izuku hides his face in his hands and groans as Sero and Kirishima hug each side of him and stir him inside as they laugh, while Inasa’s big hand ruffle his hair and his booming laughter drowns out everyone else’s.

They don’t see Katsuki follow their progress in the midst of reporters and adoring fans. How his eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth twists downwards as his teammates laugh and touch his best friend while Izuku blushes prettily. Mhmm.

💥

Sero throws the bra in the first bin they encounter, turning to look at Izuku with one of his awful wide grins that make Izuku want to implode. “So,” he crosses his arms over his chest.

But before he can say anything else Kacchan’s voice booms from the entrance, “Shut up, ugly. No one wants to hear it.”

Sero rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? I think you might.”

“DONE SHOWERING ALREADY?” Inasa booms, hands on hips. “INCREDIBLE.”

Izuku spares a rare glare at Sero and turns around with a smile already on his lips, “Kacchan!”

“Impossible, couldn’t give less of a shit about what you wanna say,” Kacchan grins unfriendly. He grabs Izuku by the hand, “Come, time for my massage.”

Izuku follows him without a word, ignoring the knowing looks the team is giving them.

Door closed but unlocked – because despite what most think nothing happens in here except for actual massages – Izuku takes in his best friend.

He’s changed into soft black sweatpants and one of his Dynamight black robes with the orange X on the back. Through its front opening Izuku can still make out the growling wolf tattoo curling over his collarbone, shiny with droplets of water.

And today, his face is unmarred and beautiful as always. Not many challengers get close enough to land a hit there these days, and even if they do, Kacchan has a way of looking raggedly handsome even bruised and bloody.  

Ignoring the cramping in his stomach, Izuku pushes Kacchan towards the massage bed and gestures for him to take off the robe.

Kacchan does, the soft material pooling on the floor at his feet in a soft rustle. Izuku can feel his eyes on him the entire time as he moves around, getting the massaging oil and straightening the sheet on the table. He glances at him sideways. “What?”

Kacchan shrugs. Then, “Did something happen?”

Izuku raises an eyebrow and wills his hands not to tremble as he pushes him to lie down. “Nothing you have to worry about.”

“Oof,” Kacchan grins, “Handsy today are we.”

“Ugh.” Izuku upends the oil bottle on his chest.

Sadly, it’s not cool enough to cause a reaction. Kacchan’s grin widens. “C’mon, tell me what happened.”

Izuku starts working on him, running his hands down the length of his arms, pressing up his sides and pecs, thumbs seeking any tension for him to ease. Kacchan doesn’t take his eyes off his face the entire time. Izuku feels his face flush. He narrows his eyes to cover it. “I just had a chat with a too enthusiastic fan.”

Kacchan’s eyebrows shoot up. “You hate interacting with my fans. What did they want?”

Izuku sighs, taking one of his forearms and starting the massage. There’s no point in lying, if Izuku wouldn’t tell him, Sero would be all too happy to. “She wanted you to sign her bra.”

Kacchan throws his head back on the cushion and makes a face, “Gross.” Izuku presses down his wrists, pulling at each extended finger, before Kacchan’s eyes are on him again.

“So, wait, you took it from her?”

“I didn’t!”

“That sounded very defensive, ‘Zuku.”

“She gave it to me!” Izuku’s voice rises slightly. “I reminded her of how much you hate stuff like that, and she came around and just gave it to me.”

“And where is it now?”

Izuku can’t help the icy tone, “Why, do you want it after all?”

Kacchan meets it with a grin, “Why, you jealous?”

Izuku rears back, hands freezing. His heart jumps. Meeting Kacchan’s grin tears something at him, “Why would I be?”

Kacchan’s grin dims, “No reason, I guess.”

Izuku shakes himself, going on his other side to work on his other arm. He keeps trying to sink in the zone, but it’s no use. His heart’s still racing. He can tell Kacchan is upset, and he doesn’t know why and he hates it.

Kacchan stills his hand with his free one. When Izuku looks at him, he’s smiling, “Thank you,” turns playful again, “My saviour.”

“Ugh,” Izuku pushes him hard against the table, punching a laugh out of him. “Be still already. Let me work on you.”

“You can work on me any time, baby.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku stares him dead in the eyes. “I will literally walk away.”

“You’d never. You take your job too seriously for that.”

“Since my job is you and you’re annoying me, I will.” He won’t, but he tries to look as if he would.

Kacchan doesn’t call out his bluff again, “Fine,” he blows a breath and rolls his eyes, “You’re so boring.”

Izuku hums, smiling to himself as he prods hard at some tension areas at the base of his neck, “That’s me. Boring little Izuku, which is good, you’re exciting enough for both of us as is.”

Kacchan winces and groans, turns on his stomach when Izuku pushes him not too gently and sighs when Izuku digs his thumbs on the sore muscles there. “You just pretend to be boring,” he says on a moan and goes completely pliant when Izuku rubs the last of a tension spot away. “But fine, I’ll let you be boring for today.”

“Gee, thanks,” Izuku snips, but he’s silently thanking every deity in existence that Kacchan can’t see how red his face is right now.

This is what happens when Kacchan keeps him out of the zone. When he keeps talking and play flirting with him as if he actually wants him.

It hurts a little more each time Kacchan does it. But he’s been doing it for years and getting upset now would only attract attention, and that’s the last thing Izuku wants.

“’Zuku, I can hear you thinking.”

Izuku presses down on his legs, “What am I thinking?”

Kacchan hums. His voice, when he speaks, is as sleepy as a cat, “Something dumb for sure.”

“Yeah,” Izuku sighs, agonising over his feelings for his childhood friend while he has him half naked under his hand can definitely be described as stupid.

“One night with me and you’ll forget what thoughts even are,” Kacchan drawls, sounding almost drunk.

“Yeah, right.”

“Bet.” Kacchan turns his head to stare at him.

Izuku digs his thumbs hard on the meat of his calves, “Stop joking already!”

Kacchan yelps and flinches so hard he shakes the massage table. He gives Izuku a disbelieving look that turns into a glare, opens his mouth as if he wants to yell at him, then visibly chews back on his words and deflates back on the table.

Izuku hates it. He hates how serious Kacchan looks about it at times. How it makes him hope and fantasize. It’s exhausting to wrangle his poor stupid feelings back in place.

💥

Izuku’s packing up his bag, surrounded by the boys, who give him help he doesn’t need and mostly just get in the way.

Izuku doesn’t tell them off, though. He smiles patiently and raises a single eyebrow when they’re being a little too rowdy, and it’s enough to put them in place.

All of them have varying degrees of a crush on the nerd. Of course, the nerd in question has no idea. And that’s how Katsuki likes it.

He’s not exactly proud of it, but he doesn’t mind glaring the rest of the team into good behaviour to make sure they don’t do something stupid like confess their feelings. If he looks like a seething guard dog, promising maimed limbs every time someone gets too close to him, so be it.

He didn’t just go through most of his life being in love with his best friend, only to lose to some extra that thinks he knows his nerd just from a handful of interactions where he was just being polite.

Plus, he knows for a fact that Izuku isn’t interested in any of them. Katsuki would know, he watches him too closely every day to miss it. And Izuku’s eyes only light up when he looks at him.

It’s the one hope that’s kept him going all these years. Since he was fifteen and realised he was already in deep. When Izuku missed two days of school because he was sick, and Katsuki felt like life was suddenly a drag without shiny eyes following him everywhere and a motormouth to keep him company.

What even is the point, if Izuku isn’t right beside him?

Which, ironically, is also the reason why he never confessed. Rejection would hurt like a bitch, but losing his best friend would mean the end of the world as he knows it.

So, he just hinted it at first, joked about it. And here was probably where he shot himself in the foot, because from then on Izuku never took his advances seriously, even when he’s dead serious and he knows part of Izuku knows it.

That’s what Katsuki gets for being a shitty little coward. The love of his life looking at him as if he’s breaking his heart each time he flirts with him.

He’s 92% sure that look on Izuku’s face is longing, but he just needs a little more confirmation. To know that Katsuki isn’t the only one agonising over this.

But for now, it’s alright. “Give me,” he grabs Izuku’s physio bag from him and easily shrugs it on his free shoulder.

“I can carry it myself, Kacchan,” Izuku pouts, following him close.

“Good for you, didn’t ask though.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, but breaks into a smile just as quickly, “Thank you.”

Yeah, it’s alright, Katsuki thinks. Being in love with his best friend is scary sometimes, but he can’t think of anyone else he’d rather give himself to.

So, he’ll be patient and wait. Izuku is worth all the time in the world, after all.

💥

On the team bus, Kacchan goes right to the back, slipping Izuku’s bag on the compartment above his.

The last two rows have been theirs since they started travelling with the team. Izuku isn’t sure why no one joins them and instead always leave at least three rows between them, but he suspects Kacchan has something to do with it.

Not that he minds, the journey home is always his favourite part. When Kacchan is loose and relaxed with a fresh win and more prone to smiling and laughing genuinely. It makes it easy to forget about the awkwardness from earlier.

Izuku takes out his phone and headphones and listens to three songs and a half – just until the bus reaches the highway – then, turns it all off, kneels up on his seat and pops his head over the back, resting his arms on the headrest to look at Kacchan, “Hi.”

Kacchan snorts, pulling off one earbud, “Nerd.”

Izuku’s so happy. The drowsy chatter and quiet laughter coming from the others, the sun streaming through the window and lighting Kacchan in gold and turning his eyes into specs of embers – it all makes his heart feel as if it’s grown too big for his chest.

“You were amazing today.”

Izuku sees Kacchan’s eyes soften in real time just as he smirks and tilts his head cockily, “Am I ever not?”

Izuku rests his cheek on his arms and hums, “I just thought the punch cluster move was neater, more beautiful than usual.”

“Only you would think me beating the shit out of someone was beautiful.”

Izuku frowns, “I guess that’s a bit messed up of me.”

“You think?” Kacchan cackles, “But that’s fine, that’s why we fit.”

Izuku smiles, his heart does a flip. Kacchan turns to look out of his window, a small smile on his lips. The silence isn’t awkward, they’re both used to spend time like this. Izuku lost in his thoughts and Kacchan waiting, one ear always ready to listen to him.

Izuku’s eyes rest on his neck. It looks so strong, sturdy – an odd thought to have about a neck probably but – every time he wants to press his lips there and hear what kind of sounds Kacchan would make. He can just about see the ears of the wolf peeking from the collar and Izuku wishes it was him, snuggled up on Kacchan’s chest, growling for everyone approaching to stay back. Or not… He’d love to leave a trail of kisses down the entire length of it, though. Collarbones to shoulders to back, to the base of his spine… Heat pools at the base of his stomach and he has to blink quickly to dissipate the images in his head, “Hey.”

He loves how quickly Kacchan looks at him. Izuku’s always looking at him and it feels good knowing it doesn’t take much to demand his attention back. Kacchan raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Do you remember when we met?”

“No, do you?”

Izuku shakes his head, “It’s kind of sad. I wish I remembered.”

Kacchan shrugs, “I like not remembering.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t care about remembering how my life was without you in it.”

Izuku straightens, breaks into a surprised smile, and feels his happiness radiating from his face, “I feel the same.”

Kacchan’s face does something curious. It turns red and he looks away, almost as if he’s flustered. “Duh,” he says stupidly and Izuku laughs at him.

Kacchan snaps and grumbles at him, but Izuku knows he’s just embarrassed even if he’s not sure why, so he smooths things over by talking again.

He talks about their childhoods, memories that make Kacchan cringe and others that have both of them in stitches. Their high school days, and the months they’d spent apart during his university years.

Kacchan keeps his eyes on him the entire time, mostly letting Izuku recount their shared memories and the way he felt in the moment, only chipping in here and there, but always, always listening.

A lifetime spent by the love of his life’s side. God, Izuku’s so lucky.

His arms keep squeezing the headrest, wishing it was Kacchan, wishing he could just gather up the courage to sit by him and hug him close and never let go.

But it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

His heart feels like it’s going to burst with how much he loves him, but it’s truly fine.

Somehow, right now, he thinks Kacchan knows and Izuku’s okay with it.

💥 💥

Izuku’s so stupid. He really is. 

He knows better than this, and yet he still did it anyway. Is still doing it anyway. 

He’s on twitter. Which is stupid, because he always ends up scrolling through his feed and replies for too long —until he inevitably finds the hate. 

Case in point. 

princess @yougogetalifebitch

¬ why is he always around Katsuki? doesn’t he have a life?

ugh @hessickofyou

¬ bet Bakugou is sick of always having him tag along

lola @patheticflieshavenoroomtotalk

¬ he’s so pathetic always hanging around him like an annoying fly

sand @getridofyourself

¬ so sad, Bakugou is probably biding his time until he can get rid of him.

No, Kacchan doesn’t feel that way. Of that much Izuku is sure… but what if someday he does?

Sometimes when Kacchan is with his team, Izuku feels like an outsider looking in, there but not really part of it. He guesses fans can see it too.

He doesn’t regret it, but it does make him think about his life choices. Did he really pursue a career in physiotherapy just to be by his best friend’s side? Because he’s in love with him?

What happens if he confesses and Kacchan rejects him?

He’s going to lose everything. His job, his life, his home. Nothing would make sense again.

Wow… he really is scarily co-dependent, while… Kacchan would be fine, his career is his own, his wins something he worked hard for himself. Unlike Izuku, Kacchan became who he is because of the desire to win always, while Izuku became who he is because he wanted to always be by Kacchan’s side…

It was never something he felt self-conscious about, because Kacchan never made him feel like he didn’t want him right there – he fought hard to have Izuku by him, after all.

But he can’t help but think of how increasingly hard it’s been to control his feelings, and the day they burst out… he’ll lose everything.

But how do you stop loving someone you’ve loved for the entirety of your life?

The door to Izuku’s office slams open. “Time for my massage,” Kacchan strides in, cocksure smirk in place.

“Yeah,” Izuku says distractedly.

Kacchan walks right up to him and lifts his chin with a finger, “Hey,” he studies his face. “You good?”

Izuku blinks widely, face growing hot; Kacchan is sweaty and sexy and — he frowns. “You haven’t showered yet!”

“Can I skip it this one time?”

“Ugh, no,” Izuku says scandalised. “Gross, gross man, go shower right now.”

Kacchan looks at him with a tiny grin before he laughs, “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

Izuku shakes his head and watches him go.

It’s only when he’s in the massage room, towels and muscle oil ready that he realises Kacchan had successfully distracted him from his bleak mood. 

Izuku’s heart thumps painfully. Everything he does makes him love him more. He wants to cry.

The door bursts open, Kacchan stands shirtless and in soft shorts.

Izuku just looks at him with raised eyebrows and surprisingly, Kacchan goes to lie down without a word.

Izuku’s glad to keep it that way as he starts to work on him.

The silence helps him focus on the shift of muscles and tendons, in this moment his hands are an extension of Katsuki’s body, here to serve and ease any pain. Izuku’s heartbeat slows. He wonders if this is what it’s like to meditate, to sink into something so deeply no worry or thought can reach him, until he just exists.

“Izu- ‘Zuku,” Kacchan’s voice is rough.

Izuku hums. He heard him, he’s just too focused on his work to look up right now.

“Izuku, what are you doing?”

Izuku frowns, looks up and stills. “What? Oh,” okay yes, his face is definitely closer to Kacchan’s than he expected. He straightens. “What am I doing?” Act cool, act cool.

“Your hands,” Kacchan swallows, looks at him then stretches, looks away. “Are you doing something different?”

“Uh,” Izuku looks at his hands. “I don’t think so.”

“That so,” Kacchan’s face a little red, he bends his knees and grabs it with his hands. 

Izuku stares at him, “What are you doing now?”

Kacchan chuckles. Izuku’s seriously worried now. 

“Are you alright? Did you get a cramp? Do you want me to massage your legs?”

“No!”

Izuku blinks at him.

“I’m,” Kacchan shakes his head, keeps hugging his bent knee, then blurts. “Y’kno I was thinking, one of these days I should massage you. Return the favour.”

The thought is so preposterous that it has Izuku stare at him unblinking for a few long moments. Then he sputters, “What? No! Why!? This is my job, you don’t have to return anything.”

“Yes, but still,” Kacchan grins and rumbles, “I want to.”

Izuku tries to imagine it. Kacchan’s hands on him, feeling his palms on his bare skin, on his back, his ribs, his chest… oh god, he wouldn’t come out of it alive.

Kacchan gets up, “I think it’s enough for today.”

“What? Already?” Izuku looks at him, Kacchan’s already halfway to the door. “Are you sure?” 

“Yup, you did great as always,” Kacchan gives him a weird thumbs up. Then, cocks a grin at him, “lemme know when you want that massage.”

Izuku glares at him, “Kacchan!”

Kacchan’s departing cackle settles him down.

Oh, he was just play-flirting again.

Ha ha. 

💥 💥

There’s a new recruit.

His name is Miyo. Kacchan obviously likes him.

Izuku can tell because he bullies and teases him in that slightly gentler manner he does with Izuku specifically sometimes.

He isn’t jealous.

That would be silly.

So silly for him to suddenly fear a random guy showing up and undoing their years of friendship. So silly for him to fear being replaced.

Kacchan wouldn’t do that, he knows.

But Miyo gets to spar with him, be part of the team in a way Izuku never can be. Izuku will always be an outsider looking in. Miyo is already part of them.

“New guy isn’t half-bad, huh?” Kirishima asks, throwing an arm around Izuku.

“I guess.”

Kirishima tilts his face down to look at him, “Why’re you pouting?”

“I’m not!”

Kacchan’s laughter pulls them back to the ring. Miyo is down on his fours, obviously having lost his balance after throwing a too enthusiastic punch.

Izuku watches as his best friend offers the new kid his hand and pulls him up. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

Izuku’s had enough. He can’t watch him flirt with someone else now.

“Hey, Izuku?” Kirishima calls out. “Where’re you going?”

“Out!”

“Don’t forget we got the welcome party for Miyo later!”

Izuku deflates, ugh, right.

-

“Why are you so grumpy today?” Kacchan asks him when they arrive together at the restaurant.

“No reason.”

Kacchan’s wearing street clothes, a dark bomber jacket with a white t-shirt and black jeans. Izuku just threw a hoodie over his work clothes and showed up. Kacchan looks hot and a little dangerous, Izuku suspects he just looks like something abandoned at the side of the street.

“Why do you like Miyo?”

Kacchan glances at him, “Who says I like him?”

Izuku keeps his eyes ahead, “I can see it from the way you act with him.”

A pause, then a shrug, “He reminds me of you.”

Izuku feels his heart shrivel a little. So, he really could be replaced… “Okay.”

“Izuku?”

They’re at the entrance and the others have already spotted them, so Izuku has the excuse to walk away to meet them. He gladly lets Inasa pull him by his side and takes the seat next to his.

Too late he realises the other seat next to his is the head of the table where Miyo sits. So, Kacchan is forced to sit on the seat in front of Izuku’s.

Kacchan frowns at him like he wants to know what’s up with him. Izuku studiously ignores him by letting the other guys pull him in conversation.

He’s acting so stupid and bratty and if he doesn’t stop it, everything he’s tried to hide will explode and ruin their lives.

But he can’t stop.

Miyo likes Kacchan back, he can see it in the hero worship in his eyes. The way he blushes when Kacchan teases and grins at him. Izuku wants to gouge his own eyes out.

It doesn’t help that Miyo tries to involve Izuku and that he’s very sweet about it too. Izuku feels like a monster every time he replies cooly and turns to talk to Shinso or Todoroki. He also doesn’t miss the criminal side-eyes Kacchan keeps giving him.

Already so protective of the kid.

When everyone pours beer in the cannister and dare Miyo to drink it, Izuku gets up. “Just need some air,” he says as the kid starts chugging.

He’s just made it to the sliding doors when a hand grabs him and pulls him to an alcove out of sight from everyone. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Izuku tugs his arm away a little too forcefully, “Nothing.”

Kacchan narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. It pulls at the fabric of his t-shirt and makes his chest and arms stand out. Izuku wants to die. “You’ve been a dick to Miyo all day.”

“I was not!”

“In your standards, yes, you were.”

Izuku mirrors the crossed arms. “Just because I’m usually nice doesn’t mean I have to like everyone.”

“Why don’t you like Miyo? The kid is all you, sweet and cute.”

“You think he’s cute?” Izuku blames the beer for how his voice wobbles.

Kacchan dips his head to catch his eyes, “Are you jealous?”

Izuku lets him and frowns at him, “It’s stupid right?” He shakes his head, “I don’t have any right to be. So, what’s the point to even–”

“You do!” Kacchan bursts, lifts his hands as if he wants to grab Izuku by the shoulders, then drops them.

“What?”

Kacchan takes a slow breath, pins Izuku with his eyes, “Do you want the right to be jealous?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku’s heart races; it’s in his throat. “Don’t joke about this. I can’t–”

“It’s not a fucking joke! It never was, you fucking idiot!”

Izuku stares at him. He thinks of all the flirting, the smirks, the casual possessiveness he exhibited when the other guys were standing a little too close to Izuku… he frowns, “You were serious this whole time?”

“Of course, I was fucking serious!” Kacchan hisses. “And I’m sick of you brushing me off as if I’m nothing! So, fucking tell me. Right now,” he jabs a finger to the floor. “Do you want me or not?”

Izuku’s head feels light. “You like me?”

“’Zuku,” Kacchan pinches the bridge of his nose, “Are you serious right now?”

Izuku’s eyes fill, he stumbles towards his best friend, the love of his life, “Kacchan, please.”

Kacchan catches him and freezes when he sees his face. He grabs Izuku’s face and holds it firmly as he says, “Izuku, I’m in love with you. Have been since we were two brats, I’ve been trying to tell you for years.”

The tears spill; Kacchan catches them with his thumbs. Izuku smiles, cheeks shifting under warm palms, “I’m sorry for being silly.”

“That’s fine,” Kacchan rubs his cheekbones gently, “But you haven’t answered my question yet. Do you want me?”

Oh, what a silly question. Izuku can’t help but laugh a little through the tears that keep falling. “Kacchan,” he shakes his head and grabs his face in return. “I might not remember when we met but I know that I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you.”

Kacchan sighs, long and relieved. He rests his forehead on Izuku’s shoulder and stays there for a long while. Izuku closes his eyes and basks in it. He’s half-certain this is a dream and he’s going to be heartbroken when he wakes up, but he doesn’t want to think about it now. He wants to make it last as long as he can.

💥

Kacchan bids everyone goodbye for both of them, trusting Kirishima with getting Miyo home safe. Then, he takes Izuku home.

In the uber, Izuku is hyper aware that they haven’t kissed yet.

Kacchan’s arm is around his shoulders, stroking and squeezing and pulling him closer at intervals. Izuku hasn’t stopped touching him either, fingertips brushing over the wolf as he’s always wished to do.

Kacchan nudges him with his nose – like a big puppy – and Izuku giggles. Kacchan’s smiling too, “Do you feel drunk?”

Izuku shakes his head, “I just had a beer.” Kacchan stares at him, eyes narrowed. “I’m buzzed at most,” he promises. “Why?”

Kacchan looks at him with a heady mix of softness and want that has Izuku licking his lips and leaning even closer. Then, he turns his head and smirks at the window, “No reason.”

“Kacchan,” it comes out a little breathy, a lot desperate.

Kacchan grins wider, “Oh, look, we’re here.”

The car stops. Izuku throws his head back and whines.

Kacchan opens the door and turns to him wide-eyed, “Woah, there,” he pulls Izuku out and closes the car door behind them. His eyes are only for Izuku as the uber drives off; he fits his hand around Izuku’s face, big palm cupping his cheek and neck, “So needy.”

Dream or not, Izuku wants to make the most of it. He wraps his arms around Kacchan’s shoulders and leans up on his toes to whisper in his ear, “I’ve wanted you for so long, you have no idea of the things I want to do to you.”

Kacchan’s throat clicks. Izuku hears it as clear as the ring of a bell and pulls back to see his expression. Kacchan’s eyes are slightly unfocused but he’s looking at Izuku as if he’s a dream come true, “I think I got an idea or two.”

Izuku smiles crookedly, kisses him on the cheek and looks up at him through his lashes, “Want to try some today?”

Kacchan leans down until their noses brush, “First,” he whispers, breath teasing Izuku’s lips.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whines when he doesn’t close the distance immediately and keeps Izuku from pushing up on his toes.

Kacchan laughs, a huff of a thing that has Izuku flutter his eyes open and smile in turn. Kacchan grabs his face in both hands and kisses him.

Finally.

Izuku sighs into the gentle pressure, then gasps when Kacchan bites on his bottom lip. The moment he feels his tongue against his, Izuku goes boneless, his toes curling as Kacchan wraps his arms around his back tight and holds him flush against his front.

Izuku dreamt about it so many times, he never thought reality could be like this – overwhelming and powerful, promising to take him apart stitch by stitch and put him together again in gold.

Because this is no dream, Kacchan’s need for him is a palpable thing, a monster that has Izuku shiver from head to toe.

And yet, he’s never felt more in control.

He takes charge of the kiss, holding Kacchan’s head between his palms and pushing him back a little forcefully. Kacchan’s eyes are unfocused as he glares at him. Izuku smiles sweetly, tugging at the arms on his back to release their hold a little so he can stand on his own. 

“Izu–” Kacchan’s voice is fucked, throaty and rough. 

Izuku takes a few seconds to gather himself, then, he grabs Kacchan’s hand and pulls him inside the apartment building. 

In the elevator, they kiss again. Izuku can’t stop it. Doesn’t want to. Kacchan is his own field of gravity and Izuku’s spent years trying to resist and keep his heart safe, but no more. No more. 

“Magnets,” he mumbles against wet lips. 

“Mhmm?” A kiss at the corner of his mouth, hot hands under his work shirt, looking to set bare skin on fire. 

Goosebumps broke over his entire body a while ago and don’t seem like they’re going down any time soon. “We’re like magnets.” Izuku pushes him back. 

Kacchan blinks at him, pretty flush high on his cheeks. He presses his face against Izuku’s hair, “Yeah,” he says, still throaty and hot. “Took everything in me not to slam against you.”

Izuku giggles, “That sounds dirty.”

Kacchan tips his chin up with a finger, “You like it.”

Izuku hums, “That goes without saying,” he pulls Kacchan out of the elevator and into the foyer of his penthouse (because, of course, Kacchan is rich enough to have the elevator open directly into his apartment). “I like everything about you.”

Kacchan's grin is pleased and arrogant. The way he looks at Izuku like a predator that has him exactly where he wants him. 

But Izuku doesn’t feel like playing prey tonight. 

He laces his fingers through Kacchan’s and pulls him against him. Lets him kiss him on the lips, down his throat and push his hoodie off his shoulders.

Izuku takes Kacchan’s jacket off in return and runs his hands down the cotton of Kacchan’s t-shirt until he reaches the hem. When he pulls it off, he allows himself what he’s always wanted to do and presses his lips on the hollow of his neck and along the growling wolf.

Kacchan shivers, and it travels along Izuku’s own spine. “How tipsy are you?” 

Izuku smiles, “Enough to feel braver than I’d be otherwise but not enough that you need to worry about consent,” he kisses his shoulder. “I love that you keep asking though.”

Kacchan strokes his cheek, “I just don’t want you to freak out tomorrow.” 

“I won’t. I promise.” Kacchan squints at him. Izuku relents, “I’ll probably freak a bit, but as long as you won’t regret it and snuggle me lots, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve wanted you for years, ‘Zuku,” Kacchan grabs his face. “I could never regret you.”

Izuku feels as if his heart is shining through his eyes, and by the way Kacchan squeezes his cheeks and kisses him hard, it might be.

Kacchan is doing this. Infusing Izuku with a confidence and power he never thought he’d have in this situation. But it’s inside him, burning, demanding. He wants to be the one to rock Kacchan’s world.

He runs his fingers along the centre of Kacchan’s sternum, where the wolf’s teeth are and looks up through his lashes. Watches as Kacchan’s eyes follow his mouth and feels his grip tighten on his waist. “Let me be in charge for now?”

He has no doubt Kacchan will say yes, but it still makes him shiver when Kacchan blinks quickly and nods, “Yeah,” clearing his voice when it comes half rough, “Yes.”

Izuku smiles, pulls all of his clothes off, standing naked and impossibly turned on under Kacchan’s hot gaze.

Kacchan keeps his promise and doesn’t try to touch or take control. He waits, more patient than anyone would give him credit for, and Izuku loves him so fucking much.

He brings Kacchan’s hand to his lips and kisses each fingertip. He’s had his body under his hands so many times, has seen it grow and come into its own under his palms and tried so hard to keep his desire from tainting it. But there are no limits anymore.

He can touch and kiss and lick.

Izuku looks up, red eyes boring into green, and slips two of his fingers in his mouth and sucks. Kacchan jolts; his eyes flutter closed and open, and looks at Izuku like he wants to eat him.

“Touch me,” Izuku mumbles around the fingers in his mouth, tugging at his other hand.

Kacchan feels rooted to the ground, stiff, heavy. “Where?”

Izuku pulls it to his chest. Kacchan digs the blunt of his nail into his nipple. Izuku gasps and smiles at Kacchan’s look. He wraps his arms around him and kisses him hard. Naked length of his against Kacchan’s solid weight.

Kacchan’s hands are all over him, one wet with his own spit, trailing down Izuku’s sides and back; palms filling with themselves with Izuku and squeezing, again and again, like it’s never enough.

Izuku knows the feeling well, and he can feel Kacchan’s self-control splinter the deeper their kisses turn, the more Izuku gasps and mewls into his mouth. But he isn’t done yet.

He drops to his knees. Like a supplicant. Like a whore. Kacchan, the god of sin, tempting him into bliss.

“Izuku,” he can barely get the word out, his throat keeps clicking. 

Izuku noses at his crotch in response. He’s wanted this for so long he almost feels like crying at being able to feel Kacchan’s hardness against him. He mouths at the length of it through the dark jeans. He looks up and whines, “I want it.”

He sees how Kacchan’s stomach contracts, the full body shudder that goes through him, before he sinks his hand in Izuku’s curls and tugs him closer, “Show me,” undoing the zipper and button. 

Izuku’s mouth drops open almost comically fast. He’s not thinking anymore, he’s just instinct and want and desire. All of it screaming for one name, for one man only. Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan. 

“Fuck!”

Izuku hums around the length of it. Likes it when Kacchan pulls his hair hard and makes it sting. One hand on his thigh, he pulls him closer as he goes deeper, makes eye contact with Kacchan’s already fucked out gaze and wills him to understand. 

“Want me to fuck your face, baby?” 

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut in a smile. Drool pools at the corner of his mouth and down onto his bare thighs, mixes with his pre. He attempts a nod, chokes — Kacchan laughs, mean and warm. 

Izuku’s a freak. He loves him so fucking much. 

“Told you, didn’t I?” Kacchan’s thumb strokes gently under his eye, then pushes hard against Izuku’s face. “Gonna give you everything you want.”

Izuku’s eyes roll back as Kacchan slams his hips with abandon. Encouraging with his never slacking grip on his thighs and ass, he tries to press even closer. He wants to be Kacchan’s in the simplest meaning of the word. To give pleasure. To be used.

Izuku can’t breathe, but that’s not important, not when he’s floating high in bliss – but then, Kacchan forcefully pushes him off his dick. Izuku whines.

Kacchan is looking down at him, his breathing fast. He shakes his head, “I can’t think.”

Izuku leaves a sweet kiss on his hipbone. “Don’t think.” Voice oh so rough and used, he looks up, “Use me.”

“Fucking hell, ‘Zuku,” Kacchan runs a hand through his hair. Stares down at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. 

Izuku likes it, basks in it. Never wants Kacchan to look away. He mouths at his balls and smiles. 

“I’m gonna cum down your throat.” A threat. A promise. 

Izuku’s mouth drops wide, “Please.” And Kacchan doesn’t hesitate again. 

Izuku swallows, dirty and proud and so in love. Asks Kacchan to take him to bed and laughs and giggles when he throws him over his shoulder and spanks his ass on their way over. 

On the bed, Izuku directs him to lie down, pulls his pants off and climbs on top of him. 

“You’re looking at me as if you’ve never had me like this before,” one eyebrow cocked, smirk in place. 

“Mhmm,” Izuku takes his time to rub his palms over his firm pecs, squeezing a little and smiling at Kacchan’s huff. “Not like this,” he bends down to kiss the soft skin. 

Kacchan’s hands come up to grip his waist. “I guess not,” he says, slightly winded just from a couple of kitten licks and kisses. “How long have you been wanting to?”

“Oh, since the beginning,” Izuku snorts, reaching behind him to gauge Kacchan’s refractory period. A stroke and a wet kiss and he’s good to go. Izuku sinks on it. 

“Fuuuuck!” One of Kacchan’s hands slides down to his thigh and grips hard. 

Izuku’s eyes are squeezed shut, taking in the sensation of being so impossibly full. Full of Kacchan. His hand grips Kacchan’s and laces his fingers with his. The other stays down over his chest and when he’s ready, he moves.

Kacchan’s groan is the headiest drug he could ever take. He opens his eyes and watches the man that has plagued every conscious thought, dream and fantasy lose his mind because of him.

He welcomes the burn until it’s nothing but pleasure. Kacchan doesn’t spout the filth he thought he would while having sex, but his eyes never stray and Izuku has never felt more beautiful.

He doesn’t stop until Kacchan comes again, until his thighs burn, and he feels like jelly from his own orgasm.

When he flops to the side, weak and spent, Kacchan catches him and crashes him against him.

“You’re so gonna be sore tomorrow,” Kacchan’s breath tickles the sweaty hair at his temple. 

“I know.”

Kacchan kisses him sweetly on the cheek and Izuku falls asleep. 

-

Izuku wakes up with his cheeks smushed against a pair of biceps and fingertips brushing over the knobs of his spine.

“I love you. You’re the love of my life. Last night was one of the best things that ever happened to me,” a pause. “Though I would’ve really liked fucking you within an inch of your life, but there’s time for that, I guess. Please, tell me you remember everything.”

Izuku lifts his head and comes face to face with Kacchan’s mighty worried frown. He tries to kiss his lips but gets his chin instead and giggles against it, “Were you worrying this whole time? At what time did you wake up?”

“Half an hour ago,” Kacchan glares. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Izuku gets an arm free from the straitjacket hug Kacchan has him in and cups his cheek, “Yes, I remember everything.”

Kacchan lets out a deep sigh and kisses him all over his face. Izuku giggles and squirms under the onslaught. A last kiss on the nose, then, “And are you freaking out?”

Izuku grins so wide and happy it reflects on Kacchan’s face even before he replies, “Not at all,” he holds his face between his palms and pulls him in for a featherlight kiss. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Kacchan rubs their nose together, stupidly soft and tender and kisses his forehead, “Me too.”

It’s the best morning after Izuku could’ve ever hoped for.

💥

Izuku’s the one that suggested keeping their relationship a secret for now. Kacchan wanted to tell the team right away, and Izuku loves him so much for that, but eventually convinced him to keep it just for them.

So, really, he has no room to be jealous here.

And he isn’t.

Yep, not at all.

“Damn, dude, who’re you glaring at like that?” Kirishima’s heavy arm wraps around his shoulders, jostling him a little. “Did Bakugou do something?”

“Kiri, you have it wrong,” Kaminari comes to stand at Izuku’s other side with a wide grin. “The one he was glaring at was obviously Miyo.”

Izuku rubs his eyes, as if it would erase the look on his face, “Was not.”

“C’mon talk to us,” Kaminari leans into his space. “Why’re you jealous?”

“He’s jealous?”

“I’m not,” Izuku huffs.

Kaminari just raises an eyebrow.

Izuku rolls his eyes, huffs again, crosses his arms over his chest and turns to look at Kacchan sparring on the practice ring with Miyo.

“I’m not part of the team–”

“What?”

“You kidding me?”

“You’re as part of the team as literally everyone here,” Kirishima tells him earnestly.

“Yeah, you’re our precious doc! We’d be lost without you!”

“Thank you,” Izuku smiles, genuinely appreciating their words. “But what I mean is that I’m not a fighter like you guys. I don’t get to spar with you… don’t get to spar with Kacchan.”

“You want to spar with Bakugou?!”

Izuku winces at their combined loud voices.

There’s a heavy thud as someone on the ring hits the floor hard, then Kacchan is leaning heavily over the ropes, looking at Izuku with bright, excited eyes. “Wanna spar with me, nerd?”

Izuku feels a little thrill of anticipation go through him. Kacchan seems genuinely delighted, almost feverish with it. Miyo, still on the floor, groans. Izuku ignores him, “Can I?”

“Wait, are you for real?”

“Izuku, are you sure?”

“Come on up, babe,” Kacchan beckons and Izuku doesn’t hear anything else.

“Get him the protective gear!”

“The helmet! God, get him the helmet!”

Izuku barely notices the voices and the boys moving around him, fitting him with gear and buzzing with well-intentioned but unnecessary worry.

When they’re done, Izuku stands in front of his childhood friend, protective cushions in place as Kacchan grins widely at him.

“Wanna make it fun?”

Izuku crosses his arms over his chest, “How?”

Kacchan chuckles a little, “Sorry, you look like an angry blueberry right now,” he bites hard on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “Get a hit in. One,” he holds out one finger, “And you can ask for anything you want.”

“Oooh!” The guys have all gathered to watch around the ring. “I like that!”

“Yeah, that’s doable, right?” Kaminari looks around with hope. “Izuku can probably manage a hit, right?”

Izuku tries not to feel offended by the barely concealed doubt.

“If you kill him, you’re gonna be in so much trouble!” Kirishima yells.

“The fuck do you shitheads take me for? Jee-sus.”

“Says Bakugou ’I never go easy on anyone’ Katsuki who just beat the newbie’s ass!”

Kacchan raises an eloquent middle finger at them.

Izuku ignores all the noise and goes back to the challenge Kacchan presented him with. “What about you?”

Kacchan turns his undivided attention back to him, immediately knowing what Izuku’s referring to. “Same goes. I win, I get to ask for anything.”

Izuku nods and gets in position. Kacchan smirks approvingly and Izuku tries not to flush with pleasure. He’s been observing Kacchan for too long, studying and admiring the way he moves for years not to pick up one thing or two.

“Oh!” Someone calls out delightedly. “It’s the same quick light step sequence as Bakugou’s!”

Kacchan doesn’t look surprised, just smirks and does a come-hither gesture at Izuku.

Izuku goes for the hit, knowing that Kacchan will dodge it easily, but still feeling ecstatic at standing in front of him as a rival.

“Too obvious, baby,” Kacchan goads him.

“Did he just call him baby?”

“I think he called him that earlier too…”

Izuku ignores them, even as his face heats up. He circles Kacchan, while his childhood friend follows his movement slowly, appraising. He’s taking Izuku seriously and it makes Izuku smile.

He goes for the attack again, letting Kacchan dodge and parry but following with quicker punches and a kick too.

The guys watching start to get excited, “He’s so much better than I thought!”

“Of course, he is,” Kacchan’s eyes never leave Izuku. “He’s Izuku, after all.”

Izuku’s heart aches so deep with how much he loves him. Knowing that Kacchan always believed in him… there’s no feeling like it.

Izuku goes for a spinning kick. Kacchan blocks it easily by grabbing his leg. He grins, “I’m better, though,” touch lingering on his exposed thigh.

A shiver of need goes through him, and he shoves it down, freeing his leg and throwing a glare Kacchan’s way.

Kacchan holds his palms up, all arrogant and knowing.

Izuku really wants to hit him now. He throws a punch high and then another under his guard. Tries to hook a leg under his and throw him off balance but lacks momentum and strength.

Kacchan outright laughs at him.

But what’s worse is that Kacchan managed to get his arm around him and is stroking the soft skin on his side.

Izuku shoves, “Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?”

“What’s he doing?” Kaminari’s voice is loud.

“I dunno.”

Izuku thanks all the gods that they haven’t caught up to the horny fiend Kacchan is being right now.

He goes for a roundhouse kick. The boys yell about how beautiful the technique is and Izuku feels himself blush. Kacchan is laughing, utterly delighted because Izuku almost hit him.

“Go! Izuku go!!!”

Izuku goes for a jab and high kick combo, high on Kacchan’s amazed laughter. Kacchan dodges, but Izuku can see that he’s getting slower, distracted by Izuku’s determination and his own obvious happiness. He focuses hits towards his face, then goes for a punch under his guard. He gets blocked again. He spins and kicks out.

The guys around them go absolutely crazy. Kacchan is too busy dodging the kick to see Izuku’s fist.

It makes contact. Izuku’s fist against Kacchan’s cheek.

Kacchan’s face actually turns to the side with the force of it.

Silence, then.

Absolute madhouse.

“HE HIT HIM!”

“IZUKU DID IT!!”

“HOLY SHIT.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

Izuku stares dumbly at his own glove-covered fist and then up at Kacchan’s face. Yeah. There’s a mark there.

Kacchan blinks at him. Then.

He grins. And before Izuku can even realise what’s happened, his back hits the floor and Kacchan’s on top of him, pinning Izuku’s hands over his head and completely restricting any movement. “K.O.”

The guys hoot and holler, “SORE LOSER BAKUGOU.”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Izuku laughs, “Every way you look at it, I win.”

Kacchan tilts his head, face just mere inches away from Izuku’s. At some point it had started to rain. He can hear the distant thunder and the sheet of rain hitting the floor to ceiling windows. It feels cosy and nice. Understanding clicks behind Kacchan’s sharp eyes, “Oh, like having me on top of you, do you?”

Izuku leans up just enough to brush their noses together, “Always have.”

“You were acting all hard to get earlier, not letting me touch—”

“We were fighting!” Izuku laughs as Kacchan’s leans closer, until their chests press together.

Izuku gasps, feeling just how much Kacchan wants him against the inside of his thigh. He slides a hand under Izuku’s head and puts his mouth against his ear. “Want me now, baby? Want to bottom for me right here in front of everyone, is that it?”

Izuku shivers, “Kacchan…”

Kacchan pulls back, smirking. He rolls his hips and Izuku can’t help a tiny “Eeek!”

Kacchan’s grip on his wrists tightens. “You won,” his eyes are trained over Izuku’s lips. He licks his own. “What do you want, baby?”

Izuku wonders if Kacchan realises that their mouths are much closer than they should be if they’re still pretending to be mere childhood friends. Honestly, Izuku doesn’t even remember why he wanted to keep it a secret.

Kacchan’s so close. His lips are so soft. Not kissing them when they’re so close is practically a crime.

“Get off him already!” Shinsou throws a towel at Katsuki’s face.

Izuku turns his head to look at his friend. He rarely sees him this angry, but now he’s positively fuming.

Kacchan has his feral ‘I win’ look on his face as he meets Shinsou’s gaze. Izuku’s confused but shrugs it off when Kacchan pulls him up on his feet.

The guys are saying something, looking at Izuku with proud smiles. Izuku isn’t hearing any of it. He turns his head and Kacchan’s already looking at him.

A blink, then, Kacchan starts undoing all the protective gear and throws it on the floor, ignoring the guys shouting at him. What they’re saying goes completely lost and unheard as Izuku can only concentrate on how Kacchan’s hot hands feel pulling and tugging things off him.

When he’s liberated Izuku from all of it, he drags him out of the gym and takes him to the showers.

There, he doesn’t waste time taking his own clothes off but pushes a still dressed Izuku in one of the cubicles.

“Kacchan wait!”

Kacchan pauses, “Don’t wanna?”

“That’s not it, it’s just-” Izuku stammers. “I still have my clothes on!”

“Yeah,” Kacchan cages him against the shower wall. “And I want to see them cling onto your wet skin as I finally fuck you.”

“O-oh,” Izuku’s eyes flutter shut, heat pooling in his lower belly. He turns the knob and lets himself get soaked.

Kacchan’s grin is sinful and promises everything Izuku’s ever wanted and more. Izuku grabs him from the neck and drags him down so he can lick it off.

“Mhmm–” Kacchan breaks the kiss but attaches his warm, wet lips on Izuku’s neck, humming his question against the skin there, “You didn’t tell me what you want.”

Izuku shivers, eyes fluttering under the shower stream and Kacchan’s attention, “There’s one thin–” he breaks off on a gasp when Kacchan bites and nibbles at his pulse point.

“Wha’s that?”

“It’s a bit silly.”

Kacchan licks the water gathered on the hollow of his neck, hot hands wrapped around his ribs, “Tell me.”

“A dinner,” Izuku trembles, holding onto Kacchan’s forearms just to hold onto something. “In one of those fancy restaurant places.”

Kacchan hums questioningly, “It’s not your usual thing.”

“I told you it was silly.”

“That’s not what I said,” Kacchan grabs his chin and shakes him a little. “I’m just surprised.”

“I just always wondered what all the fuss is about and you’re rich enough to afford it now, so,” Izuku shrugs. 

Kacchan laughs lowly, “Alright, baby boy, I’ll wine and dine you. But first,” he coaxes Izuku’s mouth open with his tongue, his hand spanning over his thigh and hiking it to hook around his hip. “Be good and open up for me.”

Izuku wraps his arms around his neck and blooms for him.

💥 💥

The next day, Izuku can’t keep the blush off his face; he’s sure everyone knows already – and if they don’t, they’ll know as soon as they see him walk… slow and awkward and all Kacchan’s fault!

To make things worse, instead of the usual grumpy morning scowl, Kacchan’s wearing the smuggest grin he’s ever seen on his face.

Izuku swats at his firm chest, “Stop that already,” he pouts.

Kacchan only grins wider, throws an arm around him and pulls him in as they enter the gym.

“Oh, they’re here!”

Izuku doesn’t try to put distance between them. He loves the weight of his big, strong arm around him too much to deny himself.

“Someone get it!”

“Give me the phone!”

“So goddamn noisy first thing in the morning, what the fuck,” Kacchan grunts, glaring at the team that was slowly swarming them.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya!”

“We had no idea it would turn out like this!”

Izuku looks at the guys blankly, “Huh?”

Kaminari makes to hug him, tears in his eyes. Kacchan keeps him back with a foot; the plant of his trainer flat on Kaminari’s chest.

“Kacchan!”

“No,” Kacchan growls, eyes on the other blond. “Why are you apologising to Deku, haah? What did you do, you dumb fuck?”

Izuku shivers at the vicious protectiveness. He wants to wrap himself around Kacchan and make him direct that delicious ferociousness on him. Wants Kacchan to do everything to him. He forcefully yanks himself out of the haze he’d descended in when he registers a scuffle.

Kacchan’s gripping Kaminari by his shirt front now, growling in his face, “The fuck did you do?!”

“Oi,” Kirishima and Inasa come to the rescue, pulling Kaminari back and positioning themselves in between.

Izuku turns too, hugging Kacchan’s arm with both of his, “Calm down, Kacchan.”

Kacchan exhales from his nose like a dragon, then pins Kirishima with a look, “Tell us.”

Kirishima winces, scratches his cheek and laughs a little uncomfortably, “Well. It’s about yesterday’s sparring session…”

“HAAHH?”

Izuku yanks Kacchan down and gives Kirishima an apologetic look, “That doesn’t explain much, Kirishima-kun.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Kirishima takes a deep breath and–

“THE GUYS TOOK A VIDEO OF YOUR FIGHT,” Inasa interrupts.

Kaminari makes a tiny, hopeless noise.

It still doesn’t click for them, though. The guys film each other’s fights all the time so they can look back at the footage and see where to improve. “So?”

“They uploaded it on youtube.”

“Yeah, the team has a channel, right? Camie-san takes care of it.”

“Mhm-hm,” Kirishima looks pained. “It went viral.”

Before Izuku can wrap his head around what it means, Kacchan huffs, pleased, “Sick.” He grins down at Izuku. “Bet everyone’s losing their minds over how badass Izuku is.”

“Yes,” Kirishima makes finger-guns at him, then looks away, “But also, uhm– something else…”

“Just show them,” Sero thrusts his phone at Kirishima.

Kirishima hands it to them.

The open page isn’t youtube, though. It’s twitter. And it’s just a thirty seconds-long clip.

Izuku can hear Kaminari and Sero’s voices commenting on Izuku and Kacchan’s fight as if it were an official match, but the focus of the camera is Kacchan and himself. A few seconds in and Izuku sees himself throwing the winning punch – he smiles as he hears the guys’ tinny excitement through the phone speakers again, then comes the moment Kacchan hooks his leg around his and makes them fall hard on the floor.

In the video, Kacchan is on top of him, his mouth a twist of pure sin as he bends down to whisper something in Izuku’s ear. Izuku looks so small completely covered by his body. Kacchan’s hips rolls suggestively and Izuku sees himself react – the breathy gasp and the twitch of his legs.

The clip already has 1M views.

Izuku’s face is burning. “Oh,” his head feels light.

“Shit,” Kacchan’s obviously upset and Izuku’s stomach bottoms out. “I’m sorry, ‘zuku.”

“Huh? No, I’m sorry!”

 “The fuck are you sorry for? You’re the one that wanted to keep it a secret and now everyone knows because of me,” he gestures at the video again, which has looped back to show the indecent roll of his hips. It is kind of enchanting to watch.

Izuku shakes his head, “I’m okay with it, if you are, I don’t care about that anymore.”

Kacchan’s grin is brilliant and catches in his chest like an arrow, “Then, fuck everyone else, baby,” he dips in to whisper in his ear and kisses him soundly on the lips.

Izuku’s heart jumps, but Kacchan’s gone before he can properly return it, looking down at him with his little pleased and proud smile.

“Kacchan,” Izuku tries to scowl, but he’s pretty sure it comes out more as a pout.

Kacchan just chuckles, all soft and proud.

“Congrats and we’re sorry?” Kirishima smiles and winces at them.

Kacchan shrugs, “I don’t care if he doesn’t,” he says, pointing a thumb at Izuku. “I don’t like having my private shit out there, but it’s not my first rodeo and it’s me they can see most of. So, if they wanna loop that clip over and over again, that’s on those weird fuckers, not me.”

It's true that Kacchan’s the one most in frame since he covers Izuku almost completely with his body. It still feels embarrassing, but Izuku relaxes. As long as he has Kacchan by his side, he’ll be okay. Like always. He meets Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari’s beseeching eyes. “What’s done is done, right,” he laughs lightly. “It was bound to come out at some point, anyway.”

Kaminari tries to hug him again, but Kacchan snaps and keeps him back. The tension lifts and Izuku melts against Kacchan’s side.

It’ll be okay.

If he keeps thinking it, it might turn out true.

💥

It’s kind of not okay.

Iida, the team manager, strongly advised them to stay offline and delete the apps if you can. Kacchan did it right away, Izuku too.

But then he re-downloaded it because he couldn’t help himself.

And now it’s been a good hour of him scrolling obsessively down his feed, which is really just different lengths of the clip he saw yesterday, screenshots of him punching Kacchan or Kacchan on top of him and so many different captions and comments.

People tag him too. Some are nice, congratulating him for getting a hit on the national champion. 

Others are downright horny; mentioning on hot edits of Kacchan rolling his hips over his. Izuku can’t look at them without wanting to disappear, his face burning so much he can barely breathe. 

And then there are those that are not… nice. There’s a lot of those. They call him all kinds of names, accusing him of stealing Kacchan away from them and tag him in old pictures of himself. 

It’s kind of scary. He has no idea where people got them, but here’s a picture of him in high school. And that one when he was in Tokyo for college… and so many, so many of him and Kacchan. Comparing and picking him apart. Commenting on how plain he is and how Kacchan could do so much better. 

Before he realises it, he can barely see through his tears. He knows, okay? He knows. But Kacchan still chose him and that has to count for something. And Izuku will always, always put Kacchan’s opinion over anyone else’s because Kacchan knows him best and Izuku trusts him with his entire soul. 

He deletes the app again and resolves to not think about it anymore. Desperately ignoring how every mean comment burrows under his skin like tiny needles.

“Ready?” Kacchan looks drop dead gorgeous in a cut burgundy suit that brings out his eyes and a black shirt underneath.

Izuku’s wearing a dark green suit that’s supposed to enhance his features, but he doesn’t think it’s doing much at all. He’s still just himself. Plain. No match to Kacchan’s striking beauty.

Looking at him makes his chest hurt. Izuku shakes his head, refuses to let comments on the internet affect him this much.

Kacchan tilts his head, “No, you’re not ready?”

Izuku lets out a breath, smiling and shakes his head again. He holds his arms out, feeling like a piece of driftwood being battered by a warring sea, “Hug?”

Kacchan raises an eyebrow at him. Izuku’s arms drop slightly, his chest aches so much. If Kacchan brushes him off now, he thinks he’s going to disappear in his head and never come out.

But Kacchan knows him too well, and he loves him so much. Izuku can tell by how quickly he crosses the distance to wrap his arms around Izuku’s back and pull him against him, holding him tight and pressing his cheek against the top of Izuku’s head. Kacchan brushes his lips over his temples, squeezes him so tight Izuku thinks he might pop. It’s perfect, it’s everything he needs right now.

“I love you.”

Izuku blinks, scattering the teardrops clinging to his lashes, breathes out, “Yeah, me too. So much.”

Kacchan rubs his back with wide, sweeping hands, “We can go out another day if you want to stay home and cuddle.”

Izuku keeps the sob that’s about to erupt by sheer force of will. He shakes his head, “I want to go out now. I’m okay, promise.”

Kacchan pulls back, gripping his head between his palms to study him. Izuku smiles, even if a little wobbly. Kacchan kisses him square on the mouth. Hard and simple. “Sure?”

“Yes,” Izuku smiles brighter this time, and it really is better.

Kacchan kisses his cheeks next and takes his hand. Kisses that too. “Okay. Let’s make tonight our bitch, then.”

Izuku burst out laughing and Kacchan grins, proud, “There it is,” he rumbles, warm like honey.

Izuku presses his entire face against Kacchan’s arm, overwhelmed with adoration, heart settled.

Hell, yeah, he thinks timidly to himself. Tonight’s his and Kacchan’s and no one else’s.

-

The restaurant is so much nicer than Izuku could’ve imagined. Multiple chandeliers provide soft, intimate light that complement the deep burgundy carpets covering the floors. Each table is covered by cream-coloured cloths, two fresh, gorgeous gardenias in a thin, tall vase providing as centrepieces on each.

Izuku immediately feels a little out of place, but Kacchan’s heavy hand coming to rest at the small of his back helps him relax again.

A waiter leads them to their table. It’s all the way to the back, near a wide window that looks into the lush garden below and has an unobstructed view of the sky. There’s too much light pollution to see stars, but the crescent moon is bright and beautiful.

When the waiter leaves them, Izuku looks at Kacchan with a wide smile, “This is so romantic,” he sits, rubbing a hand over the leather of his seat. “But so, so fancy.”

Kacchan lets out a small, amused breath, sitting in front of him, “It’s what you wanted,” opening the menu, then pausing, looking at Izuku over it, “Right?”

“Yes,” Izuku reassures quickly, turning around to look at the grandeur of the room. “It’s just,” shakes his head as he spots marble busts and gold detailing on the walls. “It’s so much better than I imagined… I just feel a little out of place.”

Kacchan puts the menu down, hooks a leg under his and tugs, “You belong here just as any of these little fucks, you hear me?”

Izuku deflates, softening at Kacchan’s intensity. He takes his hand and squeezes, “Yes.”

Kacchan pulls his hand up to kiss the back of it and keeps their legs tangled under the table. Izuku blushes at the sweet affection and copies him when he picks up the menu again, just to have something else to focus on and calm his fluttering heart.

“Kacchan,” he whispers, frowning at the menu.

“Mhm?”

“There’re no prices.”

At the pointed silence, he looks up and finds Kacchan staring him down. “And why the fuck would you want to look at the prices?”

“Well!” Izuku makes a helpless gesture, then pales, “Oh gosh, it’s very expensive, isn’t it, that’s why they didn’t put the prices.”

Kacchan rubs the bridge of his nose, sighs, then pins Izuku with a look, “It doesn’t matter,” the first button of his shirt comes undone when he leans in, and Izuku’s completely enthralled by the v of skin it exposes. “Because you wanted this and I’m going to give you everything.”

Izuku brings a hand to his chest when his heart skips. “Kacchan.”

“No, shut up, god, you’re so annoying. Fucking enjoy the thing you wanted to experience without worrying about dumb shit, you shitty nerd. You’re worth this and more a hundred times over, when will you get that in your head?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku can’t even see through his tears now.

“What,” Kacchan looks up, sees the state he’s in, shakes his head and grabs his face in his palms. He stands up just to pull Izuku closer and kiss him hard on the lips. “You’re so fucking embarrassing,” he whispers, grinning.

Izuku gurgles in protest and Katsuki presses his lips on his forehead and eyelids; he brushes the tears away when they fall, and finally sits back.

“Now, choose what you wanna eat.”

Izuku feels like he’s going to explode from his love and happiness, but manages a tiny, “Okay, Kacchan,” only barely noticing the man sitting at the adjacent table staring at them.

They order the food, Izuku gets progressively gigglier from the wine and Kacchan’s undivided attention and the moon is so romantic he could cry.

“Oh, shit,” Kacchan snorts. He looks so handsome, holding the wine glass with two fingers and leaning with one cheek pressed on one hand. “I think it’s time to go home, you’re starting to float.”

“Mhmm,” Izuku looks up at him from where he’d rested his cheek over his arm on the table. “Wanna float to the moon and sit there.”

“Not without me,” Kacchan says, flagging their waiter for the check.

Izuku straightens. “I need to pee.”

Kacchan laughs in that soft, quiet way Izuku loves so much, when he’s tired but also so clearly in love and amused by Izuku’s silliness. It makes Izuku feel so proud to be himself.

“Alright, you go do that. I’ll meet you at the lobby.”

“Okay!”

Izuku’s never been to men’s toilets that smell this nice.

He goes into one of the stalls, breathing in deeply, trying to pin the nice scent. As he pees it hits him, “Gardenias!” he giggles, they must really like the flowers to have traces of them in here too.

He hums to himself as he finishes up and goes to wash his hands at the sink. He meets his gaze in the mirror and he’s already smiling. Cheeks rosy and eyes bright. His hair’s a little messy, but he actually thinks he looks so much better than he thought he did before they came here.

It's probably thanks to the wine, but he can easily shrug off the ugly comments he’d read earlier. It’s nice. He feels so light.

Someone else enters the toilets – oh! It’s the guy that was sitting a table away from them! Izuku smiles at him through his reflection in the mirror.

The young man doesn’t smile back. His hair is a pretty shade of orange… sunset orange! His eyes are green like Izuku’s but sharper… or maybe that’s because he is currently glaring.

“Hello,” Izuku greets tentatively.

“There’s nothing special about you,” the man says.

Izuku smiles, too in the clouds to register the insult, “Yeah!” he turns to face him and holds out his arms as if to show more of himself, “I’m a pretty normal guy! Isn’t that great?”

The man closes the distance too quick for Izuku to follow. He grabs Izuku’s face in one hand and asks, “So, why did he choose you?”

Izuku can barely get a proper word out, his cheeks are squished that tight, “Mmuh?”

The grip turns painful and Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, eking out a tiny whimper, “Is it just because you grew up together?” the grip slackens, until it lets go completely.

Understanding finally clicks. “You’re talking about Kacchan.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say because the man’s face twists and suddenly, he shoves Izuku back. Izuku winces at the sharp pain at the small of his back from hitting the edge of the marble sink hard. “Like throwing that in my face, huh?”

The pain sobers him up. “I – I don’t,” he shakes his head. He’s obviously dealing with one of Kacchan’s hardcore crazy fans, but he has no idea what to do about it.

“I don’t get it,” the man spits. “He’s a champion and amazing and a winner and chooses someone like you? It has to be because you grew up together,” he grins suddenly, bitterly – it looks ugly and makes Izuku want to cry. “It means that it could’ve been anyone, that he only chose you because you were the most accessible.”

Izuku shudders with the force of his sob. The words clawing deep into the meat of his deepest insecurities and making him bleed. “M-maybe,” he warbles, glaring – barely seeing through his wet eyes. “But he still chose me and I’m not letting go.”

“Izu–”

He should’ve seen it coming, but it still feels like a shock when the slap twists his face so hard and fast he feels his neck strain.

“–ku…”

Izuku turns to look at the entrance just to see realisation hit Kacchan’s face. He looks from Izuku to the man in front of him, who’s turned too and is blubbering something Izuku can’t hear through the ringing in his ear. His cheek feels so hot. Like it’d been poked by a thousand tiny needles. He wonders if it’s bleeding.

A hitch in Izuku’s breath, and Kacchan’s face twists into a snarl, crossing the room in an instant, he brings his fist back and down hard.

The man sprawls to the floor, weak and hurt.

It’s like a jolt to Izuku’s system. He throws himself at Kacchan’s front, “No, Kacchan, stop!” he wraps himself around him, trembling and shaky and making a mess of Kacchan’s expensive shirt with his snot and tears.

“He hit you,” Kacchan’s breath is coming out in gasps, chest heaving as if he’s having a panic attack, “He hit you,” he’s shaking too and Izuku cries harder.

“You’re not in the ring,” he buries his face in Kacchan’s warmth to steady himself and him. “If he presses charges your career is over!”

“FUCK MY CARREER!” Kacchan roars. “He hit you!”

Izuku holds fast, shaking his head, “Kacchan, no, it’s been your dream since we were little! Remember that!” His words come out muffled and a little broken over his hiccupping, but he knows Kacchan understands them from the way the tension leaves him just slightly.

A shudder goes through Kacchan and Izuku looks up to see him already looking down at him with the most heartbroken expression he’s ever seen on his face. He cups Izuku’s face in his hands so tenderly it makes Izuku ache all over again, “You’re the only dream that ever mattered to me, stupid Deku.”

The tears burn as they roll down his hurt cheek. Still, he leans into Kacchan’s touch and begs, “Then, don’t fight now. For me.”

He’s never asked Kacchan to do or not do something just because Izuku asked him too. He never thought he had the right or power to ask. And waiting for Kacchan’s reply now is terrifying.

But Kacchan rests his forehead against his and sighs. His breath washing over Izuku’s face working better than any reassurance.

“Okay,” he wraps his shaking fists around Izuku and presses them close together, as if he wants to lock their ribcages together. “For you.”

-

They take a cab to go home. Kacchan hauls Izuku in his lap as soon as they settle in the backseats and the car starts moving. 

Izuku’s head rests under his chin, his knees drawn and held by Kacchan’s arm. Kacchan keeps rubbing their faces together, nuzzling and breathing in and brushing fingers against any bare skin he has immediate access to. Izuku can feel his heartbeat reverberate through him, lulling and calming. Completely surrounded by him, kept safe.

Izuku closes his eyes, wills his mind to let him sink and just stop – but the images of the aftermath still come.

Kacchan’s yelling attracted staff and curious gossipers and right when Kacchan had promised not to fight, the men’s toilet was suddenly filled with people drawing conclusions on the scene in front of them.

“I’m not going to press chargers,” the man had said, quiet and subdued, looking at the floor.

Izuku tried to take comfort in that – chose to trust him even if he was a stranger that hurt him – but that wasn’t the only problem.

With so many witnesses, a man on the floor with a quickly reddening and swelling cheek and a boxing champion known for his aggressiveness standing over him… he can already see the ugly headlines that will be plastered on the newspapers tomorrow, and he tries to shake them off, pressing his face deeper into the soft skin of Kacchan’s neck.

When the cab stops, Kacchan pays the driver and gets out first. But when Izuku makes to climb out too, he simply hooks one arm under his knees, wrapping the other around his back and lifts him off, closing the cab door with a gentle kick.

“Kacchan,” Izuku lets out a quick, surprised breath. “I can walk.”

“I know,” Kacchan starts walking, nodding at the doorman when he holds the door open for them. Waiting for the elevator, Kacchan’s grip tightens, “I just–” he presses his cheek to Izuku’s temple, squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t bear it. You away from me right now.” He shakes his head. “Let me take care of you,” he finishes in a whisper.

Izuku brings a hand up to hold his face and immediately, Kacchan turns into it to kiss his palm. “Okay, Kacchan.”

They ride the elevator in silence, desperately clinging to one another and soaking in each other’s presence. When the doors open into Kacchan’s apartment, he carries Izuku all the way to the main bathroom and rests him on the marble sink. “Your cheek is starting to swell.” It takes effort for him to say, like it’s hurting him. “I should have a salve somewhere.”

“It’s in the cabinet behind the door,” Izuku says, smiling slightly. “I put it there, remember?”

Kacchan lets out a quick breath through his nose, a poor imitation of a laugh. “Right,” he kisses Izuku’s temple and goes to get it.

When he comes back, Izuku watches him take some on his fingers and offers his cheek, quiet and pliant. Kacchan’s hands are trembling slightly with the need to be gentle and Izuku feels his eyes burn again. “I’m okay, Kacchan, I promise.”

“I know,” Kacchan leans down to bury his nose in his curls for a moment. “You’re a strong little shit after all.”

Izuku hums, bumping him playfully and catching his jaw to kiss.

“I just hate that I wasn’t there to protect you,” Kacchan admits, low and miserable. “What the fuck are my fists for, if not for that?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, knowing that no matter what he says it won’t ease Kacchan’s pain. Then, he catches sight of his knuckles and hisses. “Kacchan! Your hand!”

Kacchan looks down at it, too. The skin is broken and angry red. He flexes it, detached.

Izuku grabs it between his hands and frowns up at him, “Stop that.”

“It’s nothing. Barely even stings.”

Izuku shakes his head, mulish. He turns around and grabs the bandages and the disinfectant he’d stored behind the sink mirror. “I want to take care of you, too.” He looks into beloved red eyes, “Let me.”

The tension in Kacchan’s shoulders eases, his expression softens, and he drops another delicate kiss on Izuku’s cheek. “Alright.”

Izuku smiles, the heaviness in his own heart finally lifting a little. He takes Kacchan’s hand and rests it on his lap and dabs some of the disinfectant on the split skin. Then, he wraps it carefully with the bandage and holds it together with a safety pin. When done, he drops a kiss on the covered knuckles and smiles up at his love.

Kacchan grabs his face between his hands and kisses him so hard his head bends back, but Kacchan holds him firm, steady. 

“I want to give you that massage.”

Izuku’s eyes flutter open; licks his lips, “Mhmm?”

“Remember when I said that I should give you a massage someday soon?” Kacchan bends to kiss the corner of his mouth again. “I want to, now.”

“Is this about wanting to take care of me?”

“Yes.”

“Your hand–”

“It’s fine.” Kacchan stares at him with a slight frown and the faintest trace of a pout.

Izuku caves. “Okay.”

If he’d known Kacchan would finally grin at him like this, he would’ve agreed much sooner.

Kacchan takes him to his– their bedroom and turns on the lamps by the bed instead of the main switch, suffusing the room in warm golden light. He gets them out of the expensive clothes, uncovering Izuku bit by bit and helps him dress in more comfortable shorts. “No shirt for either of us,” he says, dropping a kiss on the top of his shoulder and then following the line of his collarbone with his lips.

“Kacchan,” Izuku giggles, ticklish as Kacchan nuzzles the delicate skin at the hollow of his neck. He grabs Kacchan by the back of his head and brings him up to his lips.

Kacchan accepts the kiss readily, cradling Izuku and squeezing him close. “Bed,” he murmurs, eyelids heavy, guiding Izuku with a gentle hand.

Izuku hums in acknowledgement and lies down on his stomach.

The bed dips as Kacchan joins him, sitting by his hip and running his hand over the expanse of Izuku’s back in small, almost distracted caresses as he reaches for the massage oil on the bedside table.

Kacchan’s touch leaves him; a kiss at the back of his head makes him shiver, then Kacchan’s voice comes, quiet and beseeching, “I’m sorry.”

Izuku makes to turn, but Kacchan’s hands return, pressing hard on the edge of his shoulder blades and working on the tension knots there. “Kacchan,” he gasps when he gets a particularly good spot, “– what?”

“I knew my fans tend to be a little insane, but I didn’t think it would be like this… that you would get caught up in the middle of it.”

Izuku sinks into the bedding, bone-tired and miserable for Kacchan and the misplaced guilt he doesn’t know how to ease. “I knew.”

Kacchan’s hands pause.

Izuku sighs, “I looked through the comments and reaction to the video going viral and, ah,” he chuckles weakly. “They kinda hate me for ‘taking you away’ and said a bunch of stuff about me not being good enough and…” he trails off with a shrug.

Kacchan resumes, thumbs digging around the area where his neck meets his spine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, and I knew you’d take responsibility of it even if it’s not yours to take,” Izuku says firmly. “Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean that you have to shoulder your fans’ sins.”

Kacchan doesn’t say anything for a moment. He glides the back of his hands over Izuku’s ribs, and he shivers. “As if they had any chance.”

“Mhmm?”

“You’ve always been the only one, ‘zuku.” Lips brush along the breadth of his shoulders. “No one could ever compete.”

Izuku’s eyes burn. “If you like me, then none of it matters to me,” his throat clicks. “You like me, right?”

“I love you.”

Izuku chuckles, wet and weak, “They’re different, you know? And one isn’t stronger than the other… You can still love someone and not like them,” he breathes out, heart aching. “I loved you before I knew what it meant and liked you even when you were a mean cocky teen. I like everything about you.”

Kacchan covers him with his body. Chest to back, skin to skin, he slips his hands between Izuku and the bed and hugs him. “I like you. I like you so much my teeth ache when you’re not around and I can’t hear your opinion on something. Hate to be apart from you because I know I’m more myself when you’re close. I like you so fucking much, you have no idea.”

Izuku laughs quietly, eyes squeezed shut, “Okay. Okay, that’s good to hear.”

“And if we hadn’t grown up together, there would’ve been a Deku shaped hole inside me until you fucking showed up.”

Izuku’s breath trembles out of him, “You heard that?”

“They don’t know anything,” Kacchan growls, squeezing him closer as if he wants to fuse them together, fit Izuku between his ribs. “Have no fucking clue that I am who I am because of you.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku gasps, sobs, desperate to have him as close as possible. Neck straining, he turns, looking for Kacchan’s lips with his own.

Kacchan meets him, relenting his hold just enough for Izuku to turn around, until they rest rib to rib, heart to heart.

Izuku grasps at Kacchan’s hair and yanks him closer, licks inside his mouth when he groans and gasps in turns when Kacchan’s hips roll against his.

“Kacchan… Kacchan,” Izuku hums, hands catching and pulling, trying to press him closer still. Everything inside him reaching for Kacchan like a Venus flytrap. He wants to devour him and keep him inside until everything stops hurting. “I don’t want to hear them, but they’re still in my head,” he sheds the tears brimming in his eyes. “Make me forget, I only want your voice in my head. Make me yours.”

“Make you mine?” Kacchan’s hands are around his head, holding, possessive. His thumbs hook at the corners of Izuku’s mouth until they’re inside, forcing it open. He kisses him like that, licking inside Izuku’s mouth, domineering but also strangely tender in the way he ends with a gentle kiss on his bottom lip. “You already are,” he presses his thumb on the centre of Izuku’s tongue. “You always were. Always mine, weren’t you?”

Izuku’s so hard, his head feels floaty and desperate, hungry and sated. He wraps his lips around Kacchan’s thumb and sucks. “Remind me,” he begs, teary and skin burning. 

“Fuck,” Kacchan’s hand squeezes at his good cheek and kisses him hard, angry. He presses curses right onto Izuku’s tongue and Izuku drinks them all up, swallows them and hopes they line his ribs and keep his heart safe.

Kacchan breaks off, tugging hard at Izuku’s bottom lip, bites down hard enough to draw blood and soothes it away with his tongue. 

Desperate hands grasp and reach between them to tug and push at the band of Kacchan’s shorts. “Give me,” Izuku kisses up his jaw, when he groans and bends his head a little, hugging Izuku’s head close.

The moment he slips his hand in and takes hold of Kacchan’s hard cock, Izuku relaxes, his knees drawing further apart, opening up for his Kacchan, he repeats, “Give it to me.”

“Want my cock, baby?” Kacchan growls, grabbing his wandering hand and yanking it above his head, holding fast.

“Kacchan,” Izuku shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks; he’s a creature that knows nothing but Kacchan and how much he wants him. He’ll beg; he’ll beg all night long. “Kacchan,” he gasps, trying to get the words out, tongue clumsy, mind desperate. 

“Shh shh shhh,” Kacchan drops tiny little kisses all over his face, like rain drops they appease Izuku’s burning even if just for a moment. Kacchan doesn’t move his mouth away from his skin, lips moving against his hurt cheek as he says, “I told you, didn’t I? I’ll give you everything. Want my cock? Just gotta open up for me, baby.” 

Izuku shivers, tests Kacchan’s hold on his wrists and whines.

Kacchan chuckles, “Good boys get rewarded, and you’re my little nerd, aren’t you?” He releases his hold on Izuku’s hands and skims his fingers over his ribs, other hand stroking and carding through Izuku’s curls. “So, show me how good you are at opening yourself up for me, mhmm?”

Izuku nods entranced. Vision nothing but Kacchan and his pleased smile. Mind a haze where the man above him is the centre of the universe. Bigger than the sun, the only thing worth focusing on, the only pull Izuku has always craved to give himself up for.

Kacchan moves, arm reaching above him and stretching his pec right there above his mouth. Izuku throws his head back and licks his nipple, closes his mouth around it and hums when Kacchan jerks and curses.

Izuku’s on a mission, scooting lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his abs, tight belly, and the soft dent of his V before Kacchan grabs him around the armpits and drags him up to the pillows again.

“No,” he growls, and then lets out an amused breath when Izuku whines pitifully again. He presses the lube into Izuku’s hand and pets his hair, bites softly at his face and down his neck and shoulders. “Be good. Do it for me, mhmm? Wanna be good for me, right?”

Izuku nods again, mind drifting. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think. Thoughts are hard and slipping like clouds, just outlines and vapour. “Kacchan,” he begs.

“Shh, I know, I know.” Kacchan kisses his cheek, takes his warmth away just to tug at Izuku’s shorts and pull them off. He returns into Izuku’s arms, clicks the lube open and helps him get his fingers wet. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Kacchan is so good. Knows exactly what Izuku needs. Izuku’s so lucky. His blood sings with it, his bones wish they could feel his touch too. “Kacchan.”

“Show me.”

Izuku reaches with his wet fingers and slips a finger right through, watches with semi-lidded eyes as Kacchan watches him do it. His chest expands with it. Growing at Kacchan’s desire for him. He flutters his hole for his gaze and smiles at the bob of his throat. “For you,” he mouths, voice not working, he shuts his eyes and works a second finger in, easy.

“Yeah, baby,” Kacchan clears his voice, but the rest still comes out in a whisper. “So good for me. Look at you.”

Izuku hums, bends his knees, and hikes them up. He plays with his hole, rubbing around and scissoring in at intervals. Opens his eyes when he works the third finger in just to see Kacchan still staring, wanting, hungry for Izuku and Izuku only.

“For you,” Izuku says again, this time loud enough for Kacchan to hear.

Kacchan snaps his head up. His eyes are more black than red. Izuku wants to sink into them, let them tear him apart. Kacchan would put him back together no problem after. Down to the molecules of him, because that’s the kind of in love they were.

It’s the only thing Izuku knows right now. The only thing worth holding in his head.

“All for you,” Izuku says, four fingers in, twisting and turning, biting down hard on his tender lip. His cock sprouts a trail of pre onto his stomach, but he makes no move to touch it, even if most of what he feels is the hot ache of it. “Always yours.”

“Yes,” it comes out from deep inside Kacchan’s chest. Rough and aching and possessive. He shoves the band of his pants down, hooks it under his balls and strokes his cock once, twice, and rests it over Izuku’s knuckles.

Izuku takes his hand off, brings it to hold his ankles and presents himself to Kacchan. “Take me.” Loose, fluttering and beckoning.

When Kacchan sinks in, Izuku goes quiet. Lets go of his ankles, knees wrapping loosely around Kacchan. Head thrown, back arching, Kacchan’s hand sliding over his stomach, holding his ribs as he stays inside without moving. “So fucking beautiful.”

Izuku’s so happy, Kacchan’s inside him so he’s complete now. But his skin is hungry, craves more. He clenches around Kacchan’s cock, undulating his hips and smiles a little at Kacchan’s broken off groan. 

“You laughing at me?” Kacchan grips his chin and Izuku giggles as he draws back and snaps his hips back in, high on the pleasure of being completely at Kacchan’s mercy.

“Kacch— mhmmm,” Izuku hums into Kacchan’s mouth as he gets completely covered by his bigger body and overtaken.

“What is it, baby?” Kacchan bites at the corner of his mouth, fucks hard and deep and finds the perfect angle. 

Izuku can’t think, he gasps and mewls, shouts and sings Kacchan! and Yes! and More! his mind is a burst of colour, red, orange and light. 

Kacchan’s fingers scratch at his head, thumbs stroke down his cheeks and rest on Izuku’s pulse point. Every breath Izuku takes comes directly from Kacchan’s mouth.

He’s full of Kacchan; incandescent with it, skin soaking him up and taking everything he gives. His cock trapped between them drags on Kacchan’s stomach and Izuku seizes up.

“Yeah, baby, there it is,” Kacchan’s voice soothes, hands pushing his hair back as Izuku starts to tremble, heels digging into Kacchan’s back. “Come for me.”

Izuku’s body arches, cock spilling, limbs shaking. Kacchan grunts, hips stuttering, grinding in deep as Izuku keeps clenching on him, “Fuck,” guttural and delicious.

Izuku can’t bear to have him this far away. Reaching clumsy hands up and burying them in Kacchan’s hair, he pulls him down, mouth to mouth and fucks down on his cock.

“Zuku,” he groans; Izuku sucks on his tongue. 

“Come in me,” Izuku demands. Not begging, a command. “Fill me up.”

“Fuck!” Kacchan’s forehead digs into the side of his face, the slap, slap of wet skin filthy and so perfect when it finally culminates with Kacchan’s chest-deep moan.

Izuku hums, loose and pliant, petting down Kacchan’s clammy skin as he jerks and pants, wet breath tickling his throat. 

He feels buzzed, skin thrumming, head in a cloud of Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan.

“I’m,” Kacchan doesn’t finish, his cock slips out and Izuku makes a distressed noise. Kacchan grabs his face and kisses him hard to make it better. He nudges at Izuku’s nose with his, lips trailing over his freckles, “Good?”

Izuku’s drags his stubby nails over Kacchan’s sides, grins against Kacchan’s jaw when he shivers. “So good,” sleepy and sated. 

Kacchan grunts, nods, then buries him under his weight. Tucks his arms under Izuku’s pillow and tries to meld them together. 

Izuku closes his eyes, smiling content and lets himself get dragged under. 

-


Izuku wakes to the methodical drag of a warm, damp towel between his thighs.

He stretches and hums, the movement stops, but lips press softly over the soft skin behind Izuku’s knee. He opens his eyes already smiling. “Kacchan, what’re you doing?”

Kacchan smiles at him, the most tender he’s ever seen him, “Cleaning up my mess.”

“Mhmm,” Izuku pouts. “I like it though.”

“You’re gross.”

Izuku grins, “Just for you.”

Kacchan’s fake disgust melts into a grin and he comes up to press it against Izuku’s lips. “Just for me,” he repeats, kissing lightly on the round of his cheeks.

A faint buzzing sound catches Izuku’s attention, and he turns towards it. Kacchan sits back, grabbing the towel again and going back to wipe him down.

Izuku looks between the direction the dull sound is coming from (inside Kacchan’s side dresser) and Kacchan who is studiously ignoring it.

“Our phones?”

Kacchan’s forehead furrows, “Yeah, been going off for a while. Fucking woke me up.”

“And you didn’t pick up?”

Kacchan lifts Izuku’s leg pointedly and kisses the inside of his thigh, “Had more important things to take care of.”

Izuku feels soft and mushy, like he could sink right into the bed and never come up. The buzzing of the phones ruins the moment though.

He sighs. “Must be Iida-kun…” he winces. “Probably working himself up to a breakdown right now.”

He waits for Kacchan to meet his gaze, then opens his arms for him, “Together?”

Kacchan sighs; he scowls and mutters about fucking annoying extras and their too many questions that are none of their business, but he throws the damp towel behind him, grabs his still-going-off phone, and settles in Izuku’s arms.

Izuku kisses his forehead and closes his eyes as Kacchan returns it. He takes a deep breath and answers.

Iida explains it all in calm, succinct tones.

The headlines are calling Kacchan violent and a danger to society, another example of an MMA fighter out of control on the path of self-destruction.

Kacchan snorts, derisive, as Iida reads aloud a few.

Iida sighs, “They don’t know the full story like we do,” he pauses as if he’s working himself to say the rest. “I know you hate giving press conferences, especially when it’s about your private life, but Bakugou-kun, I’m afraid this time it’s inevitable. Your career is in serious jeopardy here.”

“Fuck my career,” Kacchan says absently, his mind clearly a thousand miles away.

Izuku slaps his bicep, “Kacchan,” he frowns. “No.”

Kacchan looks at him, eyes resting on his face as if he’s figuring something out. His big hand comes to cup at Izuku’s cheek, holding the hurt one softly and scooting close enough to brush his lips over it. When he leans back his face is cleared. “Alright, four-eyes,” he calls. “I’ll do the fucking press conference.”

Iida doesn’t try to hide the deep sigh of relief. “Good. I’ll organise everything, make sure that everything runs smoothly.”

“You better. Since it’s your job and all.”

“Kacchan!”

But Kacchan finally breaks into odious cackle and wraps himself around Izuku like a big, long-limbed sloth and Izuku can’t find it in himself to stay offended on Iida’s behalf.

💥 💥

Izuku tries not to pace, waiting in the team’s locker room. Iida took Kacchan aside a while ago to run over possible rude questions someone might ask and to remind Kacchan to stay civil. Izuku would’ve gone with them, but suddenly felt like he needed time alone to calm down.

He regrets it now, if only he could hold Kacchan’s hand, then he just knows the nerves would go away. But he won’t be able to hold it while the real thing happens, so maybe he should count this as practice. 

His stomach churns, his pulse is so loud he brings his fingers to his neck to feel it slamming against the tips.

He opens Kacchan’s locker to give himself something to do and stares inside. He blinks and exhales at the sight of Kacchan’s black jersey. The one that has BAKUGOU printed on the back in big bold letters, and the signature orange X on the side.

Izuku takes it off the hanger and hugs it close, buries his entire face in it and breathes in. It does what he hoped it would, calming his jackhammering heart and numbing him just enough to empty useless thoughts from his head. 

“‘Zuku?” 

Izuku jumps a little, turning around and seeing Kacchan standing right by the edge of the bench. “Kacchan! You’re back!” He goes to hug him but hesitates not wanting to wrinkle Kacchan’s pressed white shirt. 

Kacchan makes the decision for him, hauling him in his arms and pressing them close. He nuzzles the back of Izuku’s head and kisses his neck, “Missed me enough to grab my jersey and smell it?”

Izuku laughs, wet and embarrassed, “Yeah.”

Kacchan hums, rubbing his back before he pulls back and kisses his forehead. He glances at the jersey still in Izuku’s hold and smirks. “Put it on.”

Izuku feels his cheek flush, “Kacchan,” he scolds weakly, “The press conference… there’ll be so many cameras!”

“Yes,” Kacchan’s eyes are serious; they pin Izuku in place, willing him to understand something. “Wear it so everyone can see.”

“See…” Izuku feels his heart settle, looking up at the love of his life, leaning in.

“That you’re mine.”

“Possessive,” Izuku scolds but it comes out a little too breathy to be effective.

“Yes,” Kacchan says easily. “So, all those fuckers know: if they fuck with you, they have to answer to me.”

Izuku shivers at the low tone, the barely concealed wrath. He pushes up on his tiptoes and brushes his lips on his jaw. “Okay.”

Kacchan’s hand is a warm weight resting at the small of his back as they make their way into the press room. And it stays there even as they step in and walk around the murmuring journalists, photographers and cameras recording it all.

Izuku’s heart is a steady thrum in his throat, but Kacchan walks beside him the whole time until they reach Iida. Who’s standing a few feet away from the podium Kacchan will answer questions at.

Iida exchanges a quiet nod with Kacchan and then softens slightly as he takes in Izuku and what he’s wearing. That’s approval clear and simple and Izuku sighs silently in relief.

A few flashes go off as Kacchan goes to stand on the podium. Izuku sees a camera pointed right at him and looks away, tugging at the too long sleeves of Kacchan’s jersey.

“Well?” Kacchan’s voice is gruff and impatient. “I was told you have a bunch of questions.” He gestures, smiling mockingly, “Go on, then.”

A few offended huffs and mutters rise up. Iida clears his throat, adjusts his glasses, then nods at one of the journalists in the front row.

“Your manager released a statement earlier about what happened on Saturday when you were out with your childhood friend Midoriya Izuku,” the lady starts, “but I would like to hear the story from you. Could you tell us what really happened?”

“The love of my life,” Kacchan says in the silence. At the questioning looks, he raises an eyebrow and leans into the microphone. “Midoriya Izuku isn’t just my childhood friend. He’s the love of my life, so get that right.”

Izuku’s face burns; he feels as if his heart has gotten out of his chest and is hammering for everyone to see, and yet he can’t keep his eyes off Kacchan.

“Saturday,” Kacchan leans back, arms straight holding onto the lectern as he regards the journalists as if they were gum stuck to his boot. “I went out with Izuku to have a nice dinner. When done, I went to take care of the bill and he went to the toilet. Except he was taking too long and when I checked on him, I see…” he visibly works his jaw as he grinds his teeth, his expression going murderous for a second just to smooth itself out in the next. “I see a man flinging insults at Izuku, pushing and laying his hands on Izuku,” he looks straight at the journalist that asked the question. “I put a stop to it.”

“You punched him, you mean,” another reporter pipes in.

Kacchan’s sharp gaze settles on the man as if he were a cockroach. He shows his teeth in a mocking smile. “Yes. I punched him.”

“Are you going to seek help with your anger issues soon?”

“HAAAAAAAAAH?”

Izuku’s stomach drops as the room explodes in a cacophony of voices and Kacchan looks on the verge of throwing the entire lectern at them.

“It is clear that you have a violent nature,” the reporter goes on undeterred, his voice rising over the others’. He gestures, “You made it into a successful career, but now one can’t help but wonder if this will be the beginning of more… incidents like this.”

The woman beside him adds, “You have to understand, Mr Bakugou, from where we stand, this sets a precedent. Will you punch everyone that will anger you? Do you want people to be afraid of you?”

The wood of the lectern creaks and pops slightly under Kacchan’s grip. Izuku can hear Iida muttering angrily beside him, but he can’t discern the words over the sound of his own rushing blood. This is bad. He wants to go to Kacchan and help him calm down, but that would only confirm these people’s opinion on him.

Izuku can see a slight tremble running over his tensed back and arms, and it breaks his heart a little. “Kacchan,” he whispers, unhelpful and miserable. But right when he thinks Kacchan is about to say something people that don’t know him would deem unforgiveable, he turns around and looks straight at Izuku.

He feels rooted to the floor as he watches Kacchan’s shoulders drop, his face relaxing back into a cocky grin.

“Yeah, actually, I wouldn’t mind if people were afraid of me.”

Izuku can’t help a choked, “Kacchan!”

“The person you punched, he was a fan, wasn’t he?” The journalist pounces. “Are you saying you want your fans to be afraid of you?”

Kacchan sighs loud and deep, then sprawls on top of the lectern, talking into the microphone as he regards the journalist with an annoyed look. “Listen, if you’ve followed my career so far, you would know I haven’t laid a hand on anyone outside the ring, except for two days ago. And it wasn’t without a reason. It was provoked. The person I love most was hurt and I stepped in. Simple as that.”

“But–”

Kacchan slams a hand down, glaring the reporter to silence before he continues, “I will apologise for hitting someone that was infinitely weaker than me. But let it be a warning to anyone else that has ill intent towards me and my loved ones. In fact, d’you lot know about the hate Izuku gets? How my baby gets death threats and belittled from people that call themselves my fans?”

Some nod. Some scroll furiously on their phones or flip through their notepads.

“Actually, let me speak directly to them,” Kacchan finds a camera and glares at it. “To everyone that calls themselves my fans and treated Izuku like shit from the moment you found out about us: I don’t want you. Don’t call yourselves my fans because you’re not.

If you were real fans, you’d care about what I care about; love what I love and what I love is Midoriya Izuku.” He narrows his eyes, still looking at the camera. “Got that? I love Izuku. And if you know what’s good for you, you will too,” then, he turns aways from the camera to grin at Izuku and winks. “Heard that, baby?”

Izuku nods vehemently, holding his scalding cheeks in his hands, overwhelmed and so in love he could burst with it and fill entire galaxies with it.

“’Kay, well, I’m done here,” Kacchan steps back and off the podium, crossing the little distance to Izuku in two big steps and wrapping an arm around him as soon as he’s close enough.

Izuku presses the side of his face in his neck, his whole body singing in relief with the proximity.

Kacchan’s face brushes against his, all over, lips, nose and cheeks pressing and kissing Izuku’s hair, forehead, eyelids, and nose, like he needs the skin to skin just as badly. “Let’s go,” he says, voice low and rough, just for Izuku’s ears.

They walk out, around the throng of reporters shouting more questions that Kacchan will not hear and Izuku is too overwhelmed to discern. In the midst, he can hear Iida’s voice behind them, asking them to settle down.

Izuku makes to turn, see if Kacchan’s manager needs help, but Kacchan’s arm tightens, keeping him in place. “He’s fine,” he says, turning back from the scene and brushing his nose against Izuku’s curls. “Everything’s fine.”

“I know,” Izuku smiles up at him, finally stepping out of the press room and back into the world of just the two of them. “I trust you.”

Kacchan draws him in, the fabric of his jersey on Izuku bunching and pulling under his heavy arm and presses his smile against Izuku’s; kisses his next words right onto his tongue, “I’ll keep it safe.”

Izuku holds just as hard and tight on Kacchan’s shirt and repeats, “I know.”

💥 💥

They go straight to Kacchan’s apartment. There, Izuku helps Kacchan take his shirt off and change into his soft sleepshirt.

It’s still light out and nowhere near bedtime, but they silently agree to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed. Both need to soak each other up and cleanse the sticky fingers of the outside world poking into their sacred them.

Kacchan helps him take off his jersey and swaps it for the t-shirt he wore last night. Izuku can’t help a tiny happy wiggle as Kacchan’s scent wraps all around him, soothing and perfect.

“D’you wanna…” Kacchan asks, grabbing Izuku’s face in one hand and stroking his cheek with his thumb, hair soft and eyes even more so.

Izuku turns his head into his touch and kisses his palm. “Do you?”

Kacchan narrows his eyes for a moment, then relents, shakes his head, “Just wanna hold you.”

“Perfect,” Izuku smiles. “Same.”

Kacchan goes to bed first, then holds his arms out imperiously towards Izuku.

Izuku goes into them giggling, his entire being sighing in relief when Kacchan’s arms wrap around him and hold him close.

He falls asleep to the sweet tug of Kacchan untangling his curls, cradled in the safety of his arms.

When he wakes, it’s to the soft huff of Kacchan’s laughter. Izuku’s immediately alert, blinking out sleep in favour of looking for what had Kacchan react like that.

“You awake?”

Izuku hums, throat too dry to make words yet. He squints at the phone in Kacchan’s hand.

Kacchan rests it face down on his stomach when he realises Izuku’s trying to look. When Izuku turns to look at him askance, Kacchan gives him an odd smile, “We’re trending,” he scratches his nose, “Again.”

“Oh,” Izuku studies him. “You were laughing. So, not bad?”

Kacchan shakes his head, grinning his dangerous grin, “What I see is only good.”

“Can I see?”

“You want to?”

Izuku nods, and Kacchan pats his own chest. Izuku lies back down on him and snuggles in.

“Brace yourself,” Kacchan snorts.

Before Izuku can ask him what he means, he’s immediately taken by a picture of the two of them as they left the pressroom.

Izuku’s face isn’t visible, just the back of his head and the BAKUGOU jersey. But Kacchan is tuned towards him, expression tender and holding him by his side as if he was afraid someone might take Izuku away.

Kacchan scrolls, “Wait! I like that picture, save it?”

“Already did,” Kacchan says, then taps on it and shows him. He’d liked it and bookmarked it too.

“Aww Kacchan.”

“Shush.”

Izuku laughs, turning his head to kiss his pec, where his wolf would be, and rubbing his face against his shirt.

Kacchan’s heavy hand ruffles his hair, “Stop that, keep reading.”

“M’kay.”

Next is a video of Kacchan’s little monologue. Kacchan scrolls down to the replies and Izuku’s mouth tugs up in a smile.

kiwi🍓✧˖°. @comradekiwi_

¬ everyone good deserves a boyfriend like bakugou katsuki

maya 🌸 @seijohtrash

¬ It was time he put those nasties in their place

Chow 💚 🥦 🐰 @minggchoww

¬ izuku is baby and Katsuki is hot ❤️🔥

shii 🐭 𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓾𝓮 @shippinya

¬ Izuku looked so cute!

jiwen @jWky1TfsmWk

¬ oh..deku..oh….izuku…….

kat✦ @katskioki

¬ Izuku… my sunshine I want to eat him

Bundie 🧡 💚 @bunbundiegle

¬ SCREECHING!!! I WANT TO CHEW ON HIM

han 🐰 @yordeku

¬ Thread of Midoriya Izuku blushing at Bakugou’s monologue!

“Why are you bookmarking it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re liking all the tweets in the thread? Bookmarking each too??? Kacchan!”

“What? Leave me alone.”

Izuku giggles, hiding his face, he whines, “Kacchaaaaan.”

mei 🪴 @meinawrites

¬ God I want what they have

Kacchan snorts, “I like this one.”

grey 🐺 @greykatsuki

¬ I want him moans

Izuku nods, “Mood.”

“It goes on, look.”

mei 🪴 @meinawrites

¬ Which one?

grey 🐺 @greykatsuki

¬ Yes

A series of gifs follow with people saying BOTH in different ways, until it gets a little out of control with people saying that they wished they could be a third in their relationship.

“See baby, we’re hot stuff,” Kacchan nuzzles his nose against Izuku’s. “You fit right beside me, and they can all see it.”

Izuku hums and hugs him close, “Thank you for making me see too.”

“Any time, baby.”

OFFLINE @whashoobi

¬ izuku is my sexy muffin i love muffins i want to eat him

“Well,” Izuku scratches his cheek, blushing.

“I like them,” Kacchan nods. “Offline gets it.”

OFFLINE @whashoobi

¬ I WANT TO [REDACTED] HIS HOLE AND [REDACTED] HIM UNTIL HE’S NOTHING BUT A BLUBBERING CRYING MESS

¬ want to keep him in a little jar

“Heh, too bad for them, only I get to do that.”

Izuku’s face burns, “I think that’s enough of that.”

Kacchan likes and bookmarks both tweets.

“Kacchan!”

Kacchan grabs his face and pats it, “Leave me alone.”

“Never!” Izuku laughs and laughs, “You’re stuck with me!”

“Good,” Kacchan nods to himself, giving him a goofy smile. “That’s how I like it.”

Izuku smiles goofily back.

[fin :D]