Chapter Text
Bakugou Katsuki was not good enough.
And no, he didn’t mean in the strength department. He knew he was good enough to be a hero. He knew he was the best goddamn hero there ever was, fuck everyone else. No, there should be three words added to that sentence.
Bakugou Katsuki was not good enough - for Midoriya Izuku.
That’s what he told himself, anyway, as he looked at the object of his continuous frustration. As a kid, he could chalk up the unbridled rage filling him whenever he saw the green-haired nerd to hatred. At twenty-two, freshly breaking the top twenty-five heroes, and with years of intensive therapy under his belt, he could safely say those feelings that crept under his skin at the advent of his childhood best friend were not so simple.
Katsuki knew he had a problem. The problem was Midoriya Izuku. In fact, no, his problem was himself. He could fully take the blame off of Izuku for his feelings, unlike in years past. He didn’t blame the stupid nerd for being so undeniably lovable, he blamed himself for being weak.
As Katsuki looked at that million-watt smile lighting up a table across the bar Katsuki moped in, he could blame it on himself.
Katsuki went to the bar in vain hoping to get his mind off of Izuku. Get drunk, punch the douchebags who get too handsy, and leave alone. It was a nice distraction from the festering, bubbling, gelatinous feelings he was having toward the green-haired son of a bitch. Leaving alone was just a precaution.
He had been pretty stealth since he fully transitioned. He was still in a binder at UA, so some people had to find out, and of course, there was Izuku who fully knew him as a little girl. However, after top surgery and multiple investments in explosion-proof packers, he could safely say there was only one way that people could know: if he told them.
The fact that Izuku knew made his blood boil. The thought had him finishing his drink and ordering another. That was his secret, and the stupid nerd got to know out of coincidence.
The fact that Izuku knew also made Katsuki sure of one thing.
Izuku was gay. No one had a problem with it, no one had any bad blood. The problem arose when Katsuki thought about the ill-wanted feelings he had for the dork. Who would want a feral half-man, when they could easily get anyone or everyone with a flash of that stupid huge smile?
That was why he was at the bar. The harrowing realization that Izuku could never want him dug a deep hole into his stomach, and rooted itself in his very being.
Another drink, another hour, another sneaky glare at Izuku from across the bar. Or, seventeen if you’re counting. The dork didn't seem to notice. If he did, he didn’t give any indication to Katsuki. Why would he? Katsuki was glaring at him while he was trying to have a good time with his friends. Probably hook up with someone.
His thoughts were interrupted by someone sitting down next to him and ordering a drink. It couldn’t be a regular, they all knew to stay away from the explosion hero who tended to explode faces off while in the right mood.
Katsuki panned a lazy gaze over to the woman. She was pretty enough. Long, dark brown hair, green eyes, pretty dress. It reminded Katsuki of what he could have been if he had just been born in the right body. At that point, he didn’t particularly care which brand of cis he was, in the scenario, only that he was right.
She started talking to him. About what, he didn’t particularly care. He grunted in response. He bought her a drink when she asked. He was an all-around gentleman, considering his standing record with women, men, and anything in between.
She offered to go home with him, and that was where the fun ended.
“No, thanks.” He grumbled in response. He hadn’t had sex. Ever. No point, to him, what was the use in starting now? Especially because he would have to explain his situation to a random person.
“Come on, you’ve been sweet to me all night. I can take you back to mine and we could have a good time,” She purred, sex dripping from her tone.
“No.” Bakugou looked at his drink. If she said anything past this, he simply ignored her.
Next thing he knew, her fruity cocktail was being dumped over his head. He kept his cool. He sat there with his fists balled up on the bar trying not to explode everything and everyone in sight. Therapy. He’s in it.
She walked away without saying a word, and that was when Izuku finally decided to notice him hunched over the bar, pink something dripping from his hair.
With the knowledge that Izuku had seen his shame, once again, he finished his drink and made to walk out. He made it to the sidewalk before an annoying tone interrupted his death glare to the ground.
“Kacchan?” Izuku caught up to him. Stupid fucker got tall. Taller than Katsuki, at least. Katsuki had feelings about that too. “Kacchan, are you okay?”
He looked genuinely fucking concerned, when Katsuki bothered to bring his gaze up to those stupid green eyes and, it was like he was writing a love letter to Izuku in his mind at that point.
Katsuki grunted and kept walking. Then, a very muscular chest was in front of his eyes, and by god, and no, Katsuki needed to stop fantasizing about what the fucker could do to him with ease.
“Katsuki,”
That caught his attention. Dork didn’t use his real name often. He must've thought that some bitch throwing a drink on his head was important enough for a discussion of feelings that he was so not ready to have.
“What.” Katsuki finally ground out. His teeth were glued together at that point with rage. Couldn’t Deku just leave him alone for one lousy minute so he could sulk in peace? Maybe make himself cum once or twice in a nice bath and go to bed. Willfully and happily alone.
“What happened back there? She looked pretty mad, Kacchan.” He was still in front of him. Katsuki figured he might as well look at the damn nerd, and when he did he saw eyeliner. Musta been Pinky or Cheeks or one of the girls, god does he look like a dream. Katsuki had never been religious, but every interaction with Izuku made him question just what he should've been worshiping for those abs. It took everything in him not to tackle the fucker and take what he was looking for. Instead, he fully shielded himself with that harrowing glare so many sidekicks have called “terrifying” on one occasion or another.
“You know how I am.” Katsuki looked into Deku’s eyes for any indication of understanding, where instead he found furrowed brows and confusion contorting the fucking adorable nerd’s face. “I ain’t much for playing nice, you know that.”
He left his explanation at that, which made Izuku look even more confused.
“What do you mean? She seemed to really like Kacchan…” He trailed off into a mutter before Katsuki clapped in his face.
“Ay, nerd, don’t get into your head on this one. It’s nothing. Go back, have fun.” Katsuki grumbled, which only seemed to puzzle the poor nerd more, “Oi, fucker, if you’re so concerned about me, you can walk me home. But that’s it. I ain’t in the mood to watch some shitty All Might movie with you tonight.”
Fine, he conceded. To the puppy eyes. The goddamn puppy eyes. That’s all it would be. Deku walking him home. In silence.
Izuku beamed at the offer to fucking walk Katsuki home while leaving his friends (and the potential for a hookup) in the bar. Whatever makes the nerd shut up, is what Katsuki decided, as he sidestepped the man in his way to walk toward his apartment. The nerd followed like a puppy wagging its tail.