Chapter Text
After the meeting with Uraraka, being with Kacchan somehow became a bit easier. Kacchan seemed more relaxed, no longer glaring at Izuku at every turn like he expected to be stabbed as soon as he turned his back, while Izuku got used to having Kacchan in his space.
On a bright Monday morning, a delivery service rang Izuku’s doorbell to bring him his new work laptop. The company had managed to recover his files from his old device, and set up a network access so he could work from home until the office renovations would be completed a few more days later.
Having had some unexpected vacation time, returning to the spreadsheets and project quotas was a decent change of pace—not to mention the sheer novelty of being able to work while sitting on his sofa in a t-shirt and loose shorts with the computer on his lap! And for once, the department manager wouldn’t be able to tell him how many toilet breaks he was allowed to take during his day.
Kacchan didn’t have much to do while Izuku was working. He would mostly sit in the room and read, work out, or occupy his time by doing miscellaneous chores that Izuku had never actually asked him to do, but was grateful nonetheless.
The days passed so peacefully, Izuku felt like he could easily get used to this.
“How’d you end up doing this kind of thing in the first place?”
Izuku raised his eyes from the case he had been reviewing. He and Kacchan had gone on a long jog in the park in the afternoon, so Izuku was working late in the evening to finish his quota before the next day. Kacchan usually didn’t interrupt him when he was working, so the question had come as a surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted to be a hero. Was a bit of a tall order for a Quirkless person, sure, but I figured you’d be, I don’t know. A doctor, or a firefighter or something. Or saving lost dogs or who knows what. What did you see in this career path, out of all the possibilities?”
“Well…predictable hours, predictable salary, predictable career trajectory with seniority bonuses,” he counted with his fingers. “A spot at the main office that wouldn’t bounce me around the country in their branch offices for the first five years just because they could, and a cafeteria that has katsudon every Thursday. It’s not a bad place to be in.”
“But it’s soul-destroyingly boring.”
Izuku’s eye twitched ever so slightly.
“Well, maybe that’s something I’m good at.”
“You used to want more.”
“I used to be a kid with impossible dreams. It happens. It’s easy to dream about being a hero when you only have stories to go off of.”
Kacchan didn’t say anything, but his silence was laden with an objection that was really getting on Izuku’s nerves.
“What about you, Kacchan? Is your hero life everything you thought it would be? Do you like the ad campaigns, or the interview questions about your favourite fruit, or being number three in “Heroes With the Best Rack” ranking or whatever? That’s what you wanted to be all this time, right?”
Izuku could hear the edge in his tone, see it reflected in Kacchan’s eyes when the hero snapped his head up. He was clearly taken aback, but Izuku wasn’t done.
“And what happened to the Bakugou Hero Agency? You graduated eight years ago and you’re still taking orders from Sumeragi. She tells you to jump and I guess you just ask how high? Or she puts you in a timeout and makes you sit around for days looking after a loser like me while everyone else gets ahead, and that’s fine with you?”
Kacchan bristled.
“That’s–”
“No, seriously, I get it,” Izuku waved his hand dismissively. “Life doesn’t always go the way you plan it, and that’s how it goes. I’m just…not going to listen to you lecturing me about lost potential or whatever.”
Izuku turned his eyes back to his work with a huff. He wasn’t really focusing on the text on the screen, though—his body was tense all over as he waited for the imminent explosion. The silence stretched on for several long seconds.
“...I guess you’re right.”
With that, Kacchan just…walked away, leaving Izuku stranded like a raft in the middle of an ocean after the wind suddenly died down. Izuku felt an ache in his chest, where the unresolved tension couldn’t seem to unfurl. He hadn’t liked the things Kacchan had been insinuating, so he had retaliated, but he had assumed the other to fight it, like he always fought everything that challenged him. He had expected an argument where he could stand his ground, hoping that it would dispel the unease that had made itself a home in his gut. He had just wanted to make Kacchan understand his perspective…but maybe he had just hurt him instead.
The truth was…that of course Izuku was frustrated sometimes. When his boss yelled at him for making a mistake due to badly worded instructions. When some asshole still found a way to make his Quirklessness the punchline of a tone-deaf joke long after Izuku had gotten tired of reporting those instances. When the fog enveloping the building matched the haze in his brain, where there was nothing to look forward to except Friday, and the moments he was able to escape into the fantasy of heroism that he had embraced since childhood.
Thinking about what could have been hurt , much like after hearing Uraraka’s words in the cafe. And now, sensing the judgement in Kacchan’s demeanour felt…like a confirmation that he was not good enough.
Sighing deeply, Izuku pressed the laptop closed. He wasn’t in the mood for any more work today, deadlines be damned.
When Kacchan emerged from the second bedroom, Izuku was sitting at the dining table. The night hadn’t been kind on either of them, if the dark circles and exhausted expressions were anything to go by.
“Good morning.”
“Mornin’.”
The earlier argument sat between them like a glacier.
“...ot a loser.”
“What?”
“You’re not a loser. I don’t think that. I said dumb shit yesterday, wasn’t my business to ask any of that stuff.”
Izuku was stunned into silence, and Kacchan took the opportunity to continue.
“I always thought you were…resilient, or whatever. Like some kind of freakish weed that just keeps growing even though it makes no goddamn sense.”
Kacchan wasn’t quite looking Izuku in the eye, and Izuku could almost smell him sweating where he stood, pushing the words out from his mouth like they were stuck to his throat. But his voice was so achingly earnest, Izuku knew those words came straight from the heart. Kacchan simply didn’t sweet-talk people.
“That’s…one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me.”
Izuku had meant it sincerely, but the response seemed to agitate Kacchan.
“Well it fucking shouldn’t be! Fuck’s sake…”
Kacchan pushed his hands through his hair in frustration, turning around and walking a little circle with a groan. Then, he faced Izuku again, this time with such a vulnerable expression it gripped Izuku’s heart tightly.
“It’s just…I couldn’t help thinking if…if I did this. If all the shit I put you through…had a hand in turning you away from the things you wanted to pursue.”
“Kacchan–”
“I was an immature, unrepentant little shit, I know that. It ain’t a justification, or even an explanation, and nothing can change that fact no matter what I do, but I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”
Izuku was quiet for a moment, unsure how to proceed from the unexpected turn of the conversation. Kacchan lowered his eyes, a hand coming to rub his neck awkwardly.
“I’ll…I’ll talk to my boss again, get a different hero assigned until the villain gets caught. If she yaps about the money, I’ll get it cut from my pay or somethin’, so–”
“No, please don’t do that,” Izuku interrupted, shaking his head. “I…I don’t want another hero. I trust you, and I wouldn’t want a stranger here with me. I ended up taking my own frustrations out on you last night, and I’m sorry.”
A beat of silence.
“Unless…you want to get rid of me?”
“No!” Kacchan said, more emphatically than Izuku would have expected. “That’s not it, I’m…I’m fine doing this. I ended up involving you, so it’s up to me to see this to the end.”
“Well, looks like we’re stuck together, then.”
Izuku tried a tentative smile, but Kacchan’s face retained its deep frown.
“And Kacchan…about what you said just now…”
He stood up from his chair, taking his time to sort out his thoughts so he could give Kacchan the same honesty he had received.
“There were things that happened in the past that could have gone differently. I’m not saying it was all great, that would be insulting to you. But…I really don’t think about that anymore. It’s been more than ten years, Kacchan. We both have changed since then.”
He was right in front of Kacchan now, tilting his head a bit to peer into the red eyes.
“I appreciate your apology, but I want you to understand that the choices I have made in my life aren’t your responsibility. You didn’t destroy my dreams, and you shouldn’t let the weight of my choices pull you down. I want you soaring high, the way you were always meant to. That’s the Kacchan I want to see, even if I can’t be up there with you.”
Izuku stepped back to give Kacchan more space to process the words that were so much more intimate than they were used to. He took his empty glass in his hand and headed towards the kitchen sink.
“…Izuku.”
Izuku’s whole body jolted, the muscles in his hand spasming suddenly. It felt like his brain crashed in a system error, and only came back online when he heard the sound of the glass shattering on the floor. He looked down, and saw his own bare feet surrounded by little glimmering pieces.
“Ah…shit,” Kacchan hissed. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” Izuku said. The shards really were everywhere. “I…it’s my fault. I just…was a bit startled.”
Izuku. How many years had it been…?
Kacchan still seemed troubled.
“Should get rid of this mess before something worse happens. Broom?”
“The corner closet, rightmost door,” Izuku instructed before his brain caught up with what he had just said.
“...Wait, Kacchan, don’t do it!”
Unfortunately, it was too late. Kacchan opened the door, and an avalanche of black and orange things poured out onto the floor.
It was where Izuku had shoved all of his incriminating merch into when he had tried to desperately make the apartment presentable for the hero’s arrival. Mortified, Izuku tried to cover his rapidly reddening face with his hands, but through his fingers, he could still see Kacchan pick up a figurine and observe it with an unreadable expression. Then, he let his gaze wander the floor and take in the various things like the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight branded rumpled pillowcase, the collectible official photobook, the vegetable cutting board in the shape of his grenade gauntlet, and the godforsaken dakimakura that Izuku had ordered online with trembling fingers. At least it was a clothed one…for the most part.
Izuku nervously tried to adjust his standing position when he felt a sharp pain in his foot. Lifting the offending limb, he saw that there was blood seeping out of his sole. In a panic to stop Kacchan from opening the closet, he had forgotten about the shards and stepped on the glass.
“Don’t move!” Kacchan ordered. “You’re gonna make it worse.”
He went to the genkan and reappeared with the hard-soled guest slippers in his feet. Izuku expected him to go for the floor brush or vacuum cleaner next, but Kacchan actually walked straight towards where Izuku tried his best to not drip blood on the floor.
“Kacchan…wha–augh!”
Izuku couldn’t suppress a surprised shout when Kacchan just picked him up like it was a trivial thing, stepping over the mess and walking to the other side of the kitchen, where he lifted Izuku to sit on the counter.
“First aid kit?”
Izuku pointed at the relevant cupboard. His heartbeat was so loud , it had to be obvious to Kacchan, too. He watched Kacchan open the kit and sort the contents neatly into those that he would be using and those that he set aside. He then took the time to wash his own hands thoroughly.
Izuku was suddenly reminded of the first aid training exercises they did in middle school. Kacchan wasn’t exactly gentle, yanking his “injured” classmates every which way as he went through the exercise. But he always, always followed the instructions to a T, even when the others rolled their eyes and insisted it didn’t matter to skip some steps when it wasn’t even a real emergency anyway.
This was…different. Kacchan was holding Izuku’s foot so carefully while he inspected the damage. The only time he took a firm hold was to stop Izuku from reflexively jerking his leg when he pulled the glass out of the wound with tweezers. Then, he disinfected the area and grabbed a roll of gauze to wind around the foot.
“You wanna tell me what all those skeletons in your closet are?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not,” Izuku muttered, but knew it was useless. Kacchan chuckled, keeping his eyes down.
“Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to have me around now, huh.”
“Please don’t say anything more!”
Kacchan finished the bandage, tucking the end under a couple layers.
“Izuku…I just wanna ask you one thing. Is this…a fan thing? Like with All Might?”
“I mean, I am your fan,” Izuku said. “But…it’s not like with All Might.”
He glanced at the stupid dakimakura.
“I don’t have… that stuff with All Might.”
Izuku’s mortification subsided when he realised something kind of revolutionary: apart from the feather-light teasing, Kacchan wasn’t actually making fun of him. He didn’t seem disgusted or horrified at the idea of Izuku being attracted to him at a personal level. Actually, the tips of his ears were red and he was breathing a bit more heavily than earlier. He was still holding Izuku’s foot in his warm hand.
“Is that…d’you mean…?”
Quitting while he was ahead had never been Izuku’s strong point.
“Come up here and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Kacchan let go of the foot and Izuku shimmied his legs open enough that Kacchan could stand right in front of the counter. Heart hammering in his chest, Izuku reached out to cup Kacchan’s face with his hands and gently pulled him closer.
“You…you have to tell me…if you don’t want this,” he whispered, although he felt like he would die if Kacchan recoiled away from him now.
Kacchan didn’t say anything, letting himself be pulled forward until their lips touched.
The kiss wasn’t Izuku’s first, but it was the only one so far that felt like it meant anything. Kacchan’s lips were incredibly soft, and the beginnings of his stubble were apparent at Izuku’s fingertips. He gasped when Kacchan’s eyelashes brushed against his cheek—they were so much longer than they looked!
It was also a bit unexpected that Kacchan let Izuku take the lead for the most part—most of Izuku’s fantasies had been of the “getting roughly pinned against the wall by a Kacchan in his hero costume” variety—but it felt quite nice to be able to control the pace, mentally cataloguing each new sensation for further review.
When he pulled away, his head was spinning only a little bit. The giddiness evaporated quickly when he noticed tears glistening at the corners of Kacchan’s eyes.
“Kacchan…? Are you okay? …Oh no, was it that bad…?”
Kacchan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“No…shit, ugh …”
New tears seemed to take the place of those he swept away, so he leaned against Izuku and dug his face in the nook between Izuku’s neck and shoulder, staying there. Tentatively, Izuku raised his arms and wrapped them around Kacchan, gently scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.
That’s funny , Izuku thought, I always thought I would be the one to cry first in this kind of situation.
“Technically, it’s fraternisation.”
“Hm?”
That evening, they had squeezed into Izuku’s modest bathtub at the same time. Sitting with his back against Kacchan’s chest while hugging his knees, Izuku tilted his head a bit to show he was listening.
“The agency’s employing me as your protection. Shit like falling for your bodyguard’s common enough that there’s a whole lotta rules for heroes in these situations. Could get my licence revoked, if you reported it.”
Izuku hadn’t thought of that, but it was true. Even if they hadn’t gone below the belt yet (Izuku had kind of kept his hopes up for later, but Kacchan’s words put a bit of a damper on that), it was still a legally precarious situation.
“You…don’t think I’d do that to you, right?”
No matter how ridiculous it was, Izuku hated the thought that Kacchan might have any lingering doubts about his motives.
“Nah,” Kacchan responded, “was just thinking ‘bout how it’s odd that doesn’t bother me.”
“...But it’ll be okay when you’re not bound by the contract, right?”
“Yeah. Could still get yelled at for the ‘optics’ if it’s too soon, but that can fuck right off.”
Izuku leaned his chin on his knees.
“I hope they catch the villain soon.”
“...Yeah.”
A moment of silence.
“By the way, Izuku…”
Oh, he’d never get tired of the sound of that.
“It’s not gonna be in a year or two at least, but I am still plannin’ on having my own agency. When that happens…I’m gonna need a guy to manage the paperwork side of things. Someone who likes spreadsheets’n shit. So…if you’re not too attached to your company then…”
Izuku listened to Kacchan’s rumbling voice in his ear, wide-eyed and breathless.
“...Would you be a co-founder at my agency?”
This time, it was Izuku’s turn to be overwhelmed with emotion. He grabbed Kacchan’s hand tight, holding it close as a couple of tears fell into the bathwater.
“I’ll…I’ll do it if we can get katsudon on Thursdays,” he finally said with a happy sob.
“Deal,” Kacchan said before leaning over to kiss Izuku again.