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When Izuku starts getting asked on dates by random girls he's never seen before, the paint's barely finished drying on the new UA construction. He assumes it’ll slow down eventually, but by the beginning of his third year, he still can’t go a week without being propositioned (in one way or another) by someone he doesn’t even know.
So is the burden of wielding One for All and the entire world knowing about it.
He's sitting at a corner table in the cafeteria with Uraraka and Iida, picking at his yakitori when the first-year approaches.
"Hey there, Deku-chan!" She clasps her hands together and leans down towards his food, and her pin-straight brown hair almost brushes his chicken. Izuku resists the urge to pull it away.
Because hair in his food? Gross.
"Um, hi?" Izuku offers a polite smile.
Uraraka nudges his foot. He kicks her back. He's not going to hear the end of this for the rest of the day if it plays out the way he's dreading.
"Your food looks so good!" The girl's smile is too wide. It's unnerving.
"Yeah, it's… uh, one of my favorites. Lunch Rush is the best!" he says, making his voice as chipper as he can manage.
"I'll have to ask him to make me some tomorrow. I'm a huuuuge yakitori fan." She spreads her arms wide like she's trying to give the whole world a hug.
It's a strangely exaggerated gesture, but at least her hair is farther away from his food now. She picks up a chicken skewer and takes a bite. Izuku's eyes widen. Because honestly, the audacity? He doesn't even know her.
"Yum!" The girl licks her lips. "We have a lot in common, Deku-chan! We should go out for dinner sometime."
"I…" Izuku trails off. His whole body tenses up. Ugh, not again.
"How about tonight?"
Iida's watching the interaction with the same intensity he gives nature documentaries. Uraraka hides a smile behind her hand, and Izuku kicks her again.
The girl's staring at him. Waiting.
"I don't even know your name," Izuku says.
Her face falls a little, but she's grinning that wide, toothy smile an instant later. "Akagi! Akagi Emi! Top of Class 1-A. I'd like it if you’d call me Emi, though."
Yeah, that's not happening.
"So whaddaya say?" Akagi asks. "It'd give us a chance to get to know each other."
Izuku's brain is screaming, RED ALERT RED ALERT, and he can feel the eyes of the whole cafeteria on them. He looks around, and sure enough, his schoolmates have forgotten their food and regular conversation to gawk and mutter amongst themselves.
Well, almost everyone. Izuku's eyes snap to Kacchan, who's ignoring Ashido's excited ramblings in lieu of paying very close attention to his ramen.
"I'm sparring with Kacchan tonight," Izuku says quickly.
Wow, where did that come from? He most certainly is not sparring with Kacchan tonight. But whatever. Any excuse to get this girl off his back for a bit.
"Who?" She tilts her head like a puppy.
"Bakugou." Uraraka offers Izuku a wry little smile. He clenches his fists under the table.
"Oh, yeah!" Akagi says. "You two train together a lot, huh?"
Her question unsettles something in Izuku’s stomach, but he’s not sure why. "I guess."
"Mind if I watch? You two work so well together! You could even give me pointers afterward!" Akagi's hands are clasped in front of her chest like Izuku is the answer to her prayers.
Izuku takes a bite of his food to give himself a few precious seconds to think. He can't really deny someone a chance to learn something new from his and Kacchan's spars. It wouldn't be heroic, right? But Kacchan'd probably be pissed if Izuku threw this on him at the last minute.
"Pleasepleaseplease, Deku-chan?"
Ugh. That nickname again. He's not even in hero mode right now.
Seeing no other choice, Izuku relents. "Y-yeah. Sure. You can watch."
He can feel Uraraka's eyeroll.
Akagi takes out her phone. "Gimme the time and place, and I'll put it in my calendar."
This girl is intense in a way he's not familiar with. Izuku's more than comfortable with people being negatively intense towards him, but this fawning? It's too much.
"Um, five o'clock?” Izuku pulls that one out of his ass, too. No way Kacchan’s going to agree to spar with less than five hours’ notice. “At the field near the gym. It's a good place to practice on reining in your quirk and not letting it get out of control."
"How clever of you!" Akagi says. “I’ll bet he has to create tons of explosions to keep you away. No way he could take you without full use of his quirk.”
Anger bubbles in Izuku’s chest. “That’s not true.”
Only Izuku is allowed to say that, and only directly to Kacchan.
When Akagi puts a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, he jerks back on instinct. She giggles. “Can I get your number? In case I’m running late or something. I don’t want you to start without me!”
Okay. So there’s obviously no way in hell Izuku wants to give this girl his number, but it’s like he’s possessed. She’s talking a mile a minute and looking at him with anticipation, so what else is he supposed to do? He takes out his phone and exchanges numbers with her.
“I can’t wait, Deku-chan! See you later!”
When she’s safely at the other side of the cafeteria chatting with her friends, Izuku pushes his tray forward and slides his arms across the table, banging his head lightly against the cold plastic.
Uraraka pats him on the back. “You could’ve just told her no.”
“I must concur,” Iida says. “And I was under the assumption we were studying in the lounge this evening.”
Izuku groans, wishing he could merge his body with the table so he never had to see What’s-Her-Name again.
God, he’s a dick. He was so blindsided he can’t even remember her name.
“I was afraid she’d invite herself along if I told her that.” Izuku’s voice echoes too loudly in the little hole he’s dug for himself, but he keeps his head cocooned safely between his arms and the table regardless.
“She invited herself along anyway,” says Uraraka.
Izuku sits up and throws his head back, blinking dazedly up at the too-bright fluorescent strip lights. “Yeah, but at least it won’t be in such close proximity. If Kacchan says no, will one of you guys spar with me?”
They both laugh at that.
Izuku shoots them a dirty look. “What?”
“He’s not gonna say no to you,” says Uraraka.
Okay, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Izuku looks to Iida for support, but he and Uraraka are giving each other this smug look. Izuku has no idea what’s going on.
Izuku rolls his eyes. Suddenly, he’s not hungry anymore, but he can’t figure out why. His stomach’s just… unsettled. His friends were just teasing, so why is it getting under his skin so much?
“I need to do some last-minute cramming for our English test.” Izuku slides out of his chair, picks up his tray, and leaves without another word.
By the time he throws his food away and heads into the hall, his heart is pounding. Is it because of what Uraraka said? Is it because he people pleases to a fault and doesn’t know how to say no, and it’s so bad that he’s probably going to end up marrying this girl because of it?
This is a mess. Izuku’s a mess. A disaster. A big, flaming ball of nerves freaking out over something as little as not being able to say no to a girl he barely knows and his friends teasing him about… what, exactly?
He’s not gonna say no to you.
Why does that keep repeating in his head? Why does it make him so mad? And what was Uraraka even talking about? Kacchan says no to him all the time. It’s probably his favorite word to throw Izuku’s way.
When he enters the classroom, his body goes hot. Kacchan’s already there, leaning over his desk with his hand on his face so it squishes his cheek. He looks so serene, which isn’t a word Izuku’d usually use to describe him.
The look’s gone in a moment, and Kacchan’s features harden as Izuku makes his way to his desk. Kacchan acknowledges him with a grunt.
Okay, that’s enough of an opening, and far more than he would've received a couple years ago. Izuku steels himself.
Why is he so nervous? It’s just Kacchan. So what if he barks at Izuku for asking him for a favor so late? Kacchan yells at everybody about everything. Well, maybe not as much since the whole almost dying thing, but still, when your fuse goes from a milimeter’s length to a couple centimeters, it’s not much of a difference.
Unless you’re Izuku. Because to him, it somehow makes all the difference in the world.
Izuku clears his throat. “Hey, Kacchan…?”
“Hmm.”
Not a grunt, but a flat, not-at-all perturbed, ‘hmm?’ Izuku’s stomach flips. He’s probably still recalibrating from that girl forcibly inserting herself into his life at lightning speed.
“I have a massive favor to ask you,” Izuku says, “and I want you to know it’s totally okay if you say no, and it’s super last-minute and everything, so no worries if—”
Kacchan turns around in his chair and leans his arm against Izuku’s desk. “Third year of high school, and you still haven’t learned that you’re not supposed to ramble through introductions?”
“R-right,” he gulps. It’s just Kacchan; calm down, stupid brain. “I was wondering if you’d wanna spar at five? I know you’re probably busy, and—”
“Sure,” Kacchan shrugs, turning back around in his seat.
He’s not gonna say no to you. Uraraka’s disembodied head laughs maniacally in his mind’s eye.
Izuku busies himself with pulling out his notebook. He’s supposed to be studying, dammit.
“Uh, cool,” Izuku says. God, he’s such an idiot.
“You tryin’ to impress that extra from 1-A?”
Izuku drops his pen, and it rattles to the ground. “N-no! No, it’s not like that at all; I swear!”
Okay, so now he’s getting defensive? It’s just Kacchan.
It’s just Kacchan.
It’s. Just.
Kacchan.
“Then what is it?” Kacchan’s staring down at his notebook like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s aggravating. He’s choosing this moment to be calm for the first time in his life while Izuku’s internally freaking out? How is that fair?
“She wanted to go on a date tonight, so I told her I couldn’t because we were sparring this evening,” Izuku says. “But then she invited herself along, so I had to at least ask you!”
Kacchan snorts. “Simp.”
Izuku’s eyes bug out of his head. “What’d you call me?”
Kacchan turns around again, staring Izuku down with those fierce, bright red eyes. “You’re. A. Simp.” He taps his hand on Izuku’s desk with each word, and Izuku jolts with every vibration against his elbows.
“I’m not a simp!” Izuku grips at his hair. Ugh, when did his scalp get so sweaty? Izuku’s always been anxious, but this is ridiculous. “I’m a people pleaser!”
“Potato, avocado,” Kacchan shrugs.
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
“Neither do you!” Kacchan snarls. In the span of seconds, he’s gone from teasing Izuku to getting angry at him for not being able to turn down a date? What’s the big deal? He should be laughing at Izuku, so why does he look like he’s about to blow his head off?
Kacchan slams his fist against Izuku’s desk. It’s forceful, but not aggressive. “If you like somebody, fucking tell them. And if you don’t like ‘em, say ‘shove the fuck off.’ It ain’t that complicated.”
“Easy for you to say,” Izuku grips at the loose fabric of his pants. Ugh, his palms are sweaty, too. Why does Kacchan have to go out of his way to piss him off? “You don’t like anybody.”
Kacchan’s jaw clenches, the muscle bulging and pulsing with every grit of his teeth. He turns back around without another word.
For a second, Izuku wonders if Kacchan will even want to spar after whatever the hell just happened.
But no. Kacchan will. Izuku’s sure of it, he realizes, as he stares at the back of that spiky mess of hair. Those hunched shoulders that make it look like Kacchan doesn’t care about anything. It’s an act. Always has been.
Maybe Uraraka was right. Kacchan really doesn’t say no to Izuku anymore.
…is Kacchan the simp?
Izuku heads to the PE grounds a few minutes before five. If he plays it off casually, maybe that overenthusiastic first-year won’t think he’s invested in whatever she’s got in mind. Good call, because when gets there, she’s got an entire feast spread out on a picnic blanket. Multiple charcuterie boards with both delicious and terrifying cheeses, crudites arranged like a heart, and a giant bottle of fizzy limoncello.
When she sees Izuku, she rushes him, grabs him by the wrist, and drags him over to what could very well be his last meal. For some reason, he’s suddenly thinking of the story he read in middle school where an old woman poisons and taxedermizes the guests at her bed and breakfast.
He’s exaggerating. Probably.
“Since you couldn’t get dinner with me tonight, I thought I’d bring it to you,” What’s-Her-Name says.
Izuku has no idea what the fuck to say. “That sure is a lot of food.”
“We work hard!” She takes a seat on the blanket and pats the spot next to her. “We deserve to indulge now and again.”
Izuku takes a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “I shouldn’t eat before I spar. I get a little pukey.”
He doesn’t.
“Ready to do this, nerd?”
Izuku whips around. Kacchan’s standing in the middle of the field, raising his arms above his head and cracking his knuckles. He’s wearing a black, form-fitted tank and matching joggers that snug tight around his hips.
Nerves catch fire and tear through Izuku’s body. What if Kacchan thinks he planned to turn this sparring match into a picnic date?
Okay, now he feels a little pukey.
Izuku jogs towards Kacchan anyway.
“Go on, Deku-chan!” What’s-Her-Name whoops. “Whip his blasty butt into shape!”
Izuku stops in his tracks to make space for the full-body cringe that overrides his motor control. “I’m sorry, Kacchan.”
Kacchan rolls his eyes. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” His voice is much louder than Izuku’s, and he’s positive the girl heard.
“Pick what?” Izuku hisses. “I haven’t picked anything!”
“Really,” Kacchan says. He squats down into an offensive position, arms splayed, wiggling his fingers. “‘Cause you sure seem to be pickin’ your ass instead of trying to kick mine.”
Izuku’s heart and mind race as he lowers himself into a sprinter’s stance, keeping his hand on the charred grass to ground himself. When Kacchan gives him that ‘come and get it’ look, it’s hard to focus on his own attacks.
He’s moved way past just reacting to Kacchan and has his own plan of offense, but there are certain things about Kacchan that will always catch Izuku off-guard. The words he thrusts at Izuku, the way his body moves like a burst of lightning, how his explosions shoot up Izuku’s spine like a thunderclap. How the hell is Izuku supposed to concentrate on anything else when Kacchan fights like that?
Kacchan blasts towards him with no warning—arms behind his body, chest pressed out and heaving against his muscle shirt with every sharp breath. His wicked smile glints as he closes in. Izuku jumps at him at the last moment, kicking hard as Kacchan sweeps his arm forward and sends the explosion into the already dead grass, charring it.
Kacchan’s thrown off balance, but he flips himself backward, spine arching like a bow as he somersaults through the air and lands expertly on his feet. For someone with an upper body packed with muscle, Kacchan sure is flexible.
This time, they charge towards each other in tandem. One for All tingles pinpricks across every inch of Izuku’s skin. He’s fired up with overstimulation and anticipation as he jumps over Kacchan, narrowly—intentionally—avoiding his grapple. Kacchan snatches Izuku’s ankle in a powerful grip that throws him off-kilter.
He needs to reassess his attack. He won’t lose to Kacchan—not today. Izuku grabs Kacchan’s wrist, flings him up over his head, and slams him into the ground with the weight of his body.
Kacchan stares up at him with perplexed, wide eyes. Izuku can feel his features harden as electricity simmers across his body, blue and red and pulsing. Kacchan looks so good beneath him like this, stunned into frozen silence with Izuku’s hand pressed against his chest. The world fades around him; the surge of power consumes him. It’s heady. Intoxicating. Earth-shattering.
...it’s giving him a boner.
One for All settles itself as the realization slams into Izuku like he went skydiving without a parachute. With Izuku’s quirk deactivated, Kacchan pushes Izuku’s hand away from his chest. Kacchan scrambles to his feet, but not before his hip rubs against the…
The boner.
Oh, god.
Kacchan stops moving. His eyes widen on Izuku’s. Kacchan’s gaze snaps down. Izuku’s follows.
Izuku wants to die.
Because why did he wear these particular athletic shorts to their spar? They’re thin, shiny, and slightly tight, and his crotch looks like a big top circus tent.
“Way to go, Deku-chan!”
What’s-Her-Name. Izuku forgot she even existed.
“I think you beat him in record time!”
Izuku… can’t. He can’t with the unwanted praise. The daggers Kacchan shoots from his eyes. The boner.
So he does what any person with an ounce of self-respect would do in this situation and fucking bolts his happy ass (happy dick?) out of there.
The exertion (no, bad word, Izuku) and panic have calmed his… problem by the time he gets back to the dorms. He rushes to his room without so much as a greeting to his classmates, shutting and locking the door, pulling his curtains, and flopping down onto his bed.
Izuku stuffs his face hard against his pillow and lets out the low, panicked scream he’d barely been holding back.
It doesn’t fucking help, so he screams again. And again. And… okay, he needs to knock this the fuck off. Izuku can think his way out of this just like he does with every other problem.
No big deal. Thinking’s what he does best.
He flips onto his back and stares up at his ceiling. Okay. So he popped a boner fighting Kacchan. And Kacchan saw it; he felt it, and— no, Izuku, cross that bridge when you get to it.
Rewind. Can he pinpoint the exact moment the boner materialized? He’s pretty sure blood started pumping towards his dick when he had Kacchan pinned down. Izuku just felt so damn powerful in that moment.
Is that what it is? Does Izuku just really like having that level of power? The way Kacchan was so startled and sweaty beneath him. And that look in his eye, like he was daring Izuku to…
Dammit, it’s happening again.
Okay, okay. It’s fine. He just needs to stop thinking about Kacchan sprawled out beneath him.
Izuku lets out a frustrated sigh and stands up to practice his kicks. To get his blood moving into his legs and out of his dick. Okay. This is better. He’s calming… down. Good. Go down.
Go down on Kacchan.
“Fuuuuuck!”
What is happening?
No, stop. He can do this. Eight. Nine. Ten.
So. He popped a boner. While sparring with Kacchan. And Kacchan was underneath him.
Kacchan underneath him… It was an aesthetically pleasing sight.
But everyone thinks Kacchan’s aesthetically pleasing, right? He doesn’t get many offers because nobody but Izuku really understands his personality, but Izuku’s browsed his fans’ comments online. He knows how they talk about Kacchan’s piercing gaze and bulging delts. That’s hardly new information. It wouldn’t be weird if Izuku didn’t acknowledge all the hard work Kacchan’s put in, or all the changes his body’s gone through the past couple years. It’s incredible, really.
Is it weird that Izuku finds it incredible? Is it weird that he stitched together a photo of Kacchan from the Sports Festival and one of him before he faced off with All for One because he was so impressed with how much he’d bulked up? It’s normal for friends to admire each other like that, right?
He wonders what Kacchan would think if he knew Izuku’d done that. Shame gurgles in his stomach.
Ugh. This is too much.
Sixty-seven. Sixty-eight. Sixty-nine.
Sixty-nining with Kacchan.
Izuku groans and throws himself back on his bed. Stupid, intrusive thoughts getting in the way of his hero training. His brain’s always been all over the place, though. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it doesn’t usually stop him from wanting to work out. Maybe he needs to put his thoughts down on paper.
And flush them down the toilet afterward.
He pulls a notebook and a pen out of his backpack and opens to a fresh page. Yeah. He’ll get this shit organized, and then he’ll feel better.
What is going on???
1. Got “excited” sparring with Kacchan
2. Kacchan noticed
3. Ran away
4. Problem went away
5. Thought about getting “excited”
6. Problem came back
7. Tried working out—kept thinking about problem
8. Made list
9. …problem is coming back again
Izuku reads over each numbered point until he’s dizzy. And when he looks at it all laid out like that, well…
He pulls out his phone. There are ten texts from a number he doesn’t know, so he clears the notifications and hopes he’ll remember to look at them later. There are more pressing issues at hand. When Izuku opens a search page, his thumbs shake above the keyboard.
Am I attracted to my same-sex friend?
His phone buzzes in his hand, and he practically drops it. It’s another message from the unknown number.
Unknown: I have sooo much leftover food 😣
Ah, shit. He never saved What’s-Her-Name’s contact information when she called him so he’d have her number.
Izuku opens up the chat. There are six messages in total, ranging from, ‘hey, where’d you go?’ to ‘it’s so cute when you’re nervous!’
Izuku groans. Is he the asshole here? He totally forgot she’d even come to watch him spar. He types out a quick message.
Me: Sorry! I started feeling sick. Do you have friends to share with?
Unknown: I’d rather share with you, Deku-chan!
Me: I don’t really have an appetite right now
It’s true. He’s kind of in the middle of a crisis.
Unknown: I can bring you medicine!!
Izuku slams a hand over his face. This girl really can’t take a hint.
Me: It’s okay. Kacchan’s bringing me medicine
Why he sends her that is beyond him, but he’s already sent it through the airwaves, so fuck it.
Unknown: Bakugou???
The triple question marks are a little aggressive. God, this is exhausting. Can’t she see he’s in the middle of a gay crisis here?
Oh, shit. Is that what this is? What if he actually…
The next buzz almost makes him drop his phone on his face.
Unknown: You could’ve just asked me
Me: Sorry, I don’t really know you
Unknown: Well let’s change that!!!
Izuku puts his phone on silent and sets it aside. He has homework to do, anyway. Everything else can wait until morning.
Morning, unfortunately, comes far too soon, even though Izuku spent half the night scrolling his phone and spending an unreasonable amount of time taking “Am I Gay?” quizzes and reading personal accounts from people who were questioning themselves.
By the time his alarm goes off, Izuku’s decided three things:
One: There’s a chance he might be gay.
Two: If he is gay, he probably has feelings for Kacchan, even if he can’t fully define what kind of feelings they are.
Three: He needs to tell What’s-Her-Name that he’s not interested, point blank.
Izuku heads to class a few minutes later than usual. Kacchan is always the first one there, and Izuku usually shuffles in shortly afterward. But if he has to interact with Kacchan one-on-one, he’s not sure he’ll even be able to handle it. What if he gets another boner? What if it’s an automatic response now that Izuku knows he feels some sort of way about Kacchan? Is that a thing? No, it can’t be a thing. If everybody got turned on every time they interacted with the person they had… sexual interest (oh, god) towards, they’d never get anything done.
Plus, he’s had crushes before, and this never happened. But what if those weren’t really crushes? He used to get flustered around Uraraka, but that didn’t last very long. He’s trying to remember the last time he even felt like that around Uraraka or any other girl, but he can’t.
Also, he’s never felt awkward around Kacchan, not until yesterday, anyway. It’s supposed to be awkward when you catch feelings for someone, right? You’re supposed to feel sick to your stomach at the thought of dating them. That’s normal.
Normal.
He’s normal; this is all normal.
Izuku composes himself and opens the door to 3-A. Kacchan’s there, as well as a few of his other classmates. But they’re in his periphery, and Izuku can’t focus on anything but Kacchan as he heads to his seat.
Every step feels like a march towards his death.
Kacchan felt my boner on his leg.
Izuku curses his brain for its constant self-sabotage as he takes his seat behind Kacchan. Of course, Kacchan doesn’t look up at him. Doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t acknowledge that Izuku exists, and it’s infuriating. Izuku always greets Kacchan in the morning, and the one time he doesn’t, he gets the cold shoulder? Why does Izuku have to be the one to initiate every time? Haven’t they moved past that?
Okay, the raging boner in the middle of their relationship probably isn’t helping matters. Maybe Kacchan’s feeling awkward, too. If that’s the case, Izuku’s positive he’ll act even more aloof about their friendship than usual.
Izuku’s the one who ran away, after all. Maybe it’s up to him to bridge the gap.
He can dip his toes in. He has to. For the sake of their friendship. If he lost that, Izuku’s whole life would be a pit of endless despair. Whether that’s a normal reaction to have regarding the closest person in your life, Izuku doesn’t know.
“Uh, hey, Kacchan…”
Kacchan turns around slowly, like he can’t be bothered. Like he doesn’t care Izuku is talking to him. His expression is stoic, bored, and if it’s a mask, it sure is an endearing one.
Wait, one gay crisis, and now Izuku’s thinking of Kacchan as endearing?
“‘Sup,” Kacchan says noncommittally. He’s so nonchalant, like the Boner Incident never happened.
“I… How—how was your night?” Izuku sounds like an absolute moron.
“Fine, I guess.”
“That’s good. Do anything fun?” Izuku cringes. He knows the next words are going to be pure vitriol—chiding Izuku for high-tailing it out of their spar.
“Yeah. Calc homework’s a real blast.” A smirk tugs the corner of Kacchan’s mouth.
“Number twelve was a pain,” Izuku says, in complete disbelief that Kacchan hasn’t even mentioned the two-minute-long spar Izuku dragged him into, but he knows better than to look a calm Kacchan in the mouth.
“Lemme see.”
“Huh?”
“Get your damn homework out. Lemme check your work.”
Izuku’s heart pounds hard against his ribcage. They help each other a lot nowadays. This is normal. Izuku’s always grateful, but it’s hitting different today. Making him feel a little floaty and extremely terrified. He pulls out his Calc book and opens it to the page where his homework is folded inside, uncreasing it and handing it to Kacchan.
Kacchan raises an eyebrow, eyes flickering across the problem. “Oh, shit.”
Izuku freezes as Kacchan pulls out his own homework and lays it next to Izuku’s. “Nah, you got it right. I fucked up, though.” He erases part of his work and fixes it.
“Oh,” Izuku says.
“Thanks, Izuku.”
“Oh,” Izuku says again. His tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth.
Kacchan takes his homework and turns back around in his seat, abandoning Izuku to a barrage of thoughts that shoot out faster than a machine gun. One phrase is louder and more frequent than the rest.
Thanks, Izuku.
Thanks, Izuku? Not, ‘thanks, nerd’ or a grumble of approval? Izuku’s gotten a grumbled ‘thanks’ or two before (sarcastic, more often than not), and he’s become accustomed to Kacchan calling him by his real name, but something about ‘thanks’ being attached with his name in a genuine way is horrifying because… what’s even happening?
Izuku puts his homework away and rests his head on his desk. It’s going to be a long day.
He manages to avoid What’s-Her-Name during lunch, not because he lucks out or anything, but because he forgoes the meal altogether and spends his time studying his notes in the far corner of the hallway where no one would think to look.
When class lets out for the day, Izuku bolts towards the dorms. He normally walks with his friends, but he can’t risk the much-needed socialization right now. It’d leave him vulnerable as a wounded gazelle if What’s-Her-Name decides to hunt him down again.
Izuku’s halfway to the dorms when he hears, “Deku-chan!” and freezes in place. He turns around slowly, plastering a fake grin across his face. She runs towards him and doesn’t stop until she’s a little too close for comfort. There’s still at least a meter of distance between the two, but Izuku’d prefer the length of a soccer field. He wants to activate Float and skyrocket himself into outer space. It’d probably be a quick death.
She folds her arms over her chest and taps her foot. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Oh, so she’s only ninety-nine percent clueless.
Izuku just stares, widening his smile. It probably looks creepy—or at least, he hopes so. Kacchan’s grins are evil and menacing, and that makes people avoid him. Why can’t Izuku have that talent?
“I wanna know why,” What’s-Her-Name says.
Izuku gulps. “I’ve been, uh… busy.”
What’s-Her-Name’s features are distorted into an uncharacteristic scowl that reminds Izuku of the time his mom caught him trying to draw a lifesize All Might mural on his wall when he was six.
“Look, I know you don’t like me, and I know this probably came out of nowhere for you.” She lets out a breath, shaking her head. “And I know I have a strong personality. But I need to be honest. I really, really like you. I’m just asking for a chance. For one date. If we don’t vibe, just say so, and I won’t bother you again.”
Izuku feels his brain short-circuit.
She’s only asking for a date. What could it hurt?
Kacchan’s angry, scowling face erupts in his mind’s eye. “It could ruin fuckin’ everything, dumbass.”
Ugh, that’s brain-Kacchan, not real-Kacchan. Kacchan doesn’t think of Izuku that way. There’s a one percent chance at best.
“One date,” What’s-Her-Name begs. “Please. Just say yes.”
“If you’re not true to yourself, it could ruin everything.”
This time, it’s Izuku’s own voice in his head. An older, wiser version of himself, somehow.
“I’m gay,” he blurts.
Oh, shit. No, no, no—he wasn’t supposed to say that! He doesn’t even know what his sexuality is; he hasn’t even had a full twenty-four hours to process the Boner Incident! And now he’s divulging this to some rando?
What’s-Her-Name stares at him, expressionless. Just blinking.
Well, that’s it. Cat’s out of the bag, and it’s not just any cat—it’s a saber-tooth tiger foaming at the mouth for Izuku’s sweet, gay blood.
“I mean, probably. I’m probably gay,” he amends, staring down at her shiny dress shoes because he can’t make himself look her in the eye for more than a moment. “I’m kinda just realizing it, and I haven’t told anybody yet. I know you probably hate me right now, but please, please don’t tell anybody.”
Their schoolmates are making their way towards them now, and Izuku hates every stare and assumption they’re giving him. Even though no one’s rude enough to say anything to his face, he knows. He knows the second he’s out of hearing distance, the gossip will start up. He’s been talking to What’s-Her-Name for two days now, and when a boy talks to a girl, it means the boy likes said girl. He’s already been through this with Uraraka. It was annoying then, and it’s infuriating now.
As Kacchan and his friends approach, Izuku wants nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. He avoids looking at Kacchan. It doesn’t matter, because Izuku knows Kacchan won’t be looking back. Kirishima gives Izuku a thumbs up that makes Izuku even more uncomfortable and maybe a bit angry.
But it’s Kaminari’s reaction that unsettles him most. Because Kacchan’s ignoring him (typical), and Kirishima’s being friendly and supportive (also typical), but Kaminari just observes him with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a frown like he’s trying to pick apart the tense interaction he just walked through.
When they finish passing by, Izuku tries to shake Kaminari’s face from his mind. He needs to make sure What’s-Her-Name is on the same page as him. He strives to see the best in people, and he wouldn’t be much of a hero if he didn’t at least try to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” He fumbles with his mess of a tie. “My best friends don’t even know.”
Shit, Izuku himself doesn’t even know. What if he’s just making up some pathetic excuse to get out of a date? Does that make him a bad person?
Kacchan gave me a boner, so I’m pretty sure I’m not straight, at least.
He tries to remind himself that he doesn’t owe What’s-Her-Name a date just because she asked for one. Why has it always been so impossible to put himself first?
“I’d never do that,” What’s-Her-Name says. “I know I’m a bit of a go-getter.” She laughs a little. “My dad tells me I’m so Type-A that my drive alone will propel me to the top of the hero charts the moment I graduate.”
“Yeah. I know somebody like that.”
The silence between them is a little less uncomfortable now.
“Is it Bakugou?” she asks, then waves her hands in front of her body. “No, no, sorry—you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m too nosy for my own good. It’s something I’ve been trying to work on.”
“Thanks,” Izuku says. He feels a little safer now that this girl’s putting up less of a front. “I’m still trying to figure a lot of stuff out.”
She nods. “Sorry if this is weird, but since I’m the only person who knows, text me if you wanna talk about it? It’s, uh, harder for me to steamroll over conversations when I have time to read and think through my responses.”
Okay, so she’s more self-aware than Izuku’d ever thought to give her credit for. Something like appreciation swells in his chest.
He takes out his phone and opens their one-sided text conversation. “This is shitty of me, but I never saved your name to my phone.”
“Oh.” She looks a little crestfallen. “Akagi Emi.”
Izuku saves it in his phone. “Thanks, Akagi.”
“What should I call you?”
“I’m Midoriya to most of my friends.”
“Everybody except Bakugou, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Everybody except Kacchan.
Izuku’s conversation with Akagi took more out of him than he thought possible, so he heads to the kitchen to grab a can of iced coffee. He’ll need it if he has any chance of getting his homework done.
The common areas are blessedly empty since Kaminari’s hogging the TV, playing an FPS that makes Izuku’s head spin, and Todoroki’s in the kitchen looming over the microwave and watching the timer for his instant ramen.
“You weren’t at lunch today,” Todoroki says.
“Didn’t have much of an appetite.”
Izuku still doesn’t.
The microwave beeps.
“Are you sick?” Todoroki opens it and removes the cardboard bowl with his hot hand.
Izuku might be some kind of sick, but definitely not in the way Todoroki’s thinking.
“I’m fine.”
Todoroki sets the bowl on the counter and fishes a pair of chopsticks out of the drawer. “She’s making you uncomfortable.”
“Huh?”
“The girl that’s been following you around.”
Izuku leans against the counter for balance. Todoroki almost never catches social nuance like that, so it’s as good an opening as Izuku’s going to get. He needs to talk to someone he knows—and someone who knows Kacchan—before his feelings get even more out of hand.
“How’d you guess?”
Todoroki pulls out a stool and props his elbows on the island, stirring at his ramen. “Because I react similarly to that kind of attention.”
“She’s… a lot,” Izuku scratches the back of his head, “but I talked to her just now. I think I got my point across.”
Todoroki blows at his steaming bowl of noodles. “What did you tell her?”
Izuku runs his fingertips across the rough grout of the countertop. “That I’m not into girls.”
“Ah.” Todoroki slurps his noodles.
Izuku just… blinks at him. He doesn’t know what to do or say without any follow-up, and Todoroki’s acting like Izuku just told him a boring account of his latest bowel movement. Todoroki is usually even-keeled when it doesn’t involve his family, and Izuku usually appreciates that. But right now? It’s driving him up the wall.
“Look.” Izuku leans over the island and looks towards the common area to watch for potential eavesdroppers. “Something happened yesterday when I was sparring with Kacchan, and I’m really confused.”
Todoroki tilts his head. “Did one of his new moves throw you off-guard?”
“Not exactly.” Izuku groans and rubs at his eyes. “It’s, uh, more something I did. Or a… reaction I had.”
Todoroki stares, waiting for Izuku to continue.
Izuku scooches a little closer and lowers his voice to a whisper. Ugh, it’s going to come out eventually. At least Todoroki won’t judge him for it.
“I popped a boner when I pinned Kacchan down.”
“What’s a boner?” Todoroki’s voice echoes through the kitchen.
Izuku groans, bashing his head against the island. Can he hit his head hard enough to erase the last five seconds from his memory? “An erection, Todoroki,” he says into the counter.
“Ah.”
Izuku snaps his head up. “Ah? That’s all you have to say? ‘Ah?!’” His voice comes out a little louder than he intended.
Todoroki keeps chowing down on his ramen with that unbothered expression, and Izuku kind of wants to knock the bowl off the counter.
“I, too, experience erections,” Todoroki says. “Usually upon waking up. It makes urination quite challenging.”
“I’m not talking about morning wood!” Izuku hisses. “I’m in homoerotic crisis mode right now, and I need to—”
“Hey!” Kaminari’s head pops in from the doorway. “Everything okay in here?”
“Yes!” Izuku says a little too forcefully.
The slurp of Todoroki’s noodles makes Izuku want to gouge out his eardrums with knitting needles.
“Midoriya.” Kaminari approaches Izuku and lays a hand on the top-middle of his back. “Let’s walk this off, okay?”
Izuku lets Kaminari lead him through the common room and towards the elevator. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much,” Kaminari presses the up arrow, and the elevator door slides open. They shuffle inside, and Kaminari hits the button for the third floor. “I’ve got a twelve-pack in my room. Want one?”
Izuku nods. God, yes. He doesn’t drink often, but he’ll do anything to take the edge off his emotions right now.
They settle into Kaminari’s room and nurse a beer each, not talking about anything of importance. School, internships, heroes… the usual. It’s nice, and it lets Izuku get his mind off the Boner Incident for more than thirty seconds at a time. He doesn’t hang out with Kaminari one-on-one very often. He kind of wants to change that.
When Izuku finishes his first beer, he gets off his spot on the floor, throws it in the recycling bin, and grabs another before lying down on the ground and staring up at the ceiling. He’s definitely not drunk—not even tipsy—but his limbs are finally starting to relax.
“So,” Kaminari says.
Izuku turns his head to look at him. “...yeah?”
“I dunno, man. You’re being more of an anxious ball of nerves than usual today.” Kaminari cracks open his new beer. “And I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Todoroki, but you guys weren’t exactly being quiet.”
Izuku throws an arm over his face with a heavy sigh.
“And Bakugou’s been acting weird, too.”
Izuku snaps up at that. “Really? I thought it was just with me.”
He offers Izuku a sly smile, and Izuku has no idea what to make of it. Kaminari takes a long sip of his drink. “I mean, you know him better than anybody. He’s always been kinda broody in between his explosions. But today he’s been in full-on emo mode. That only happens when there’s some new drama between you guys.”
“That’s not true!”
Kaminari stares him down.
Izuku sighs. “Okay, fine.” Damn Kaminari and his completely unexpected deductive reasoning skills. Maybe Izuku hasn’t been giving him enough credit.
“So you gonna tell me why you and Todoroki were talking about boners, or should I fill in the gaps for myself?”
Izuku sits up and points a threatening finger at Kaminari. “If you tell a single person about this, I’m gonna choke you out with Blackwhip.”
Kaminari’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kinky. I’m kinda into it.”
Izuku’s whole body goes hot with embarrassment. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”
“Relax. I’m just joking around. You’re wound up tighter than a drum. I’m not gonna steal your precious Kacchan from you.”
Izuku scoffs. Like Kaminari could.
Wait, what? These random thoughts need to stop spurring him into crisis mode. It’s getting exhausting.
“So, what’ll it be?”
Ugh. Kaminari is relentless.
Fine. Okay. Izuku can do this. He can put it on the table. Get it out in the open. He trusts Kaminari, but it’s a lot to put into words. So Izuku does what always works for him when he’s stressed. He lets it all out.
“That first-year, uh—Akagi—asked me out at lunch yesterday, and she came on soo strong, like, I had no idea how to handle it! Usually girls get the picture that I’m not interested pretty fast, but she just wouldn’t take a hint and kept insisting I go on a date with her? Like, she wanted us to go out that night. And I panicked, so I said, ‘Sorry, I can’t because I’m sparring with Kacchan,’ which was a lie, but I thought it’d get me out of any obligation. Nope! I was wrong. She invited herself to watch us spar. So then I had to ask Kacchan to spar last-minute, and he said yes, which I thought was weird, but Uraraka totally expected it?”
Kaminari snorts.
“What?” Izuku asks.
“Nothing. Continue.”
Izuku shakes his head. “So we start sparring, and I pin him down pretty fast, but Kacchan just kind of… freezes? And it felt really good, and that’s when it… uh… happened.”
“The boner.”
“Yes, Kaminari. The boner,” Izuku sighs.
“And Bakugou noticed?”
“It was kinda hard not to! He, uh, brushed against it. And then he looked down. It was pretty obvious what was going on.”
“What’d he do?”
“I ran away before anything else could happen.”
Kaminari lets out an ear-piercing cackle. Izuku chugs his beer as best he can, hoping in vain that he can drown himself in it.
“I’m sorry!” Kaminari says between wheezes, slapping his knee like what Izuku said was the funniest shit he’d ever heard. “I shouldn’t be laughing! But this is just… classic Midoriya and Bakugou drama.”
Izuku leans forward, shocked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You know! The thing!”
“The thing?”
“The thing!” Kaminari waves his arms around, gesturing at everything and nothing. “The whole ‘will they; won’t they’ thing you guys have been dancing around since first year!”
Izuku’s eyes go wide. His jaw drops. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious!”
Kaminari is taking all this way too lightly, acting like Izuku and Kacchan have been pining over each other since they started at UA. It makes no sense. They were close as little kids, sure, but once Izuku was outed to the world as quirkless, Kacchan bullied him until the Sludge Villain Incident (which was way less embarrassing but no less impactful than the Boner Incident). They slowly started getting along as Izuku got stronger and Kacchan started recognizing the value of their other classmates.
Okay, and Izuku guesses Kacchan did push him out of the way when Shigaraki tried to stab him. And Izuku definitely ran away because thinking about the fact that he’d almost lost Kacchan devastated him more than the thought of all life on earth being destroyed by a meteor. Because what’s the point of life on earth if Kacchan isn't there to experience it?
And maybe Izuku’s always been a little defensive when people insult Kacchan. He unlocked Blackwhip when Monoma dug at Kacchan’s biggest insecurity, after all. And he maybe—just maybe—unlocked Float because Kacchan was in danger. But lots of people he cared about were in danger that day. Aizawa’d almost died, too.
…but he didn’t lose his absolute shit until the same thing happened to Kacchan. And when Izuku left UA to fight on his own, Kacchan was the only person to whom he penned a heartfelt, personalized letter. Because Kacchan deserved it! Kacchan kept his secret. Kacchan cared so deeply about what happened to Izuku, even if he said the opposite when their lives weren’t on the line.
But he never acted like that when it mattered.
When it mattered, Kacchan always said what he meant. And it brought Izuku back into himself. Made Izuku consider his own well-being. Because if Kacchan cares that deeply about Izuku, shouldn’t Izuku show himself that same level of care? Of love?
What else could make Kacchan almost fight to his death? What else could cause a quirk awakening so powerful that it burst his heart open?
Izuku is numb but for the hard, painful thrumming of his chest. It’s so much. How could he be so stupid? How could he never see it before?
Izuku lies on his back again and covers his face with his hands. “I think Kacchan and I might be a little gay for each other.”
Silence drags heavy through the room.
“Yep,” Kaminari says at last.
“Oh, god. What do I do?”
“I know it’s a little crazy,” Kaminari says, “but you could try, like, talking to him.”
Izuku uncovers his face just to shoot Kaminari a dirty look. “Yeah. Talking. We’re great at that.”
“You’re getting better. Plus, you’re both unhealthy levels of obsessed with each other. It drives the rest of us up the wall.”
“You guys talk about us?”
“Not in so many words. It’s more stuff like, ‘Midoriya and Bakugou are doing that thousand-yard-stare-into-each-other’s-souls thing again; better back off and leave them to it.”
Izuku groans.
“Just talk to him, man. It doesn’t have to be a big thing.”
Izuku cringes as the thought of his tented shorts catapults back into his mind. “But it’s Kacchan. Everything’s a big thing.”
“And? You’ve gotten through worse. In the grand scheme of things, what’s one dick touch between friends?”
That raises a lot of questions in Izuku’s newly gay-awakened brain, but he lets it be, thanks Kaminari, and heads back to his room for the night. He feels marginally better after getting all that out in the open, but he knows the worst is yet to come.
Izuku gives himself two days to come up with a way to approach Kacchan. That’s enough time, he thinks, to let the awkwardness settle and emotions to calm down.
Of course, he can’t just ask Kacchan to talk about it out of the blue. A surprised Kacchan is an angry Kacchan, and it’d be shitty to throw that at him when he wasn’t expecting it regardless.
He practices his words carefully the night before he decides to breach the topic, pacing back and forth across the room, reading his notes and muttering under his breath, “Hey, Kacchan, I was wondering if we could set aside some time to talk about what happened when we were sparring the other day.” He commits the words to memory, saying them so many times they start to lose meaning because semantic saturation is weird like that.
By the time he goes to bed, Izuku’s confident he can say everything right with the least amount of damage possible.
When Izuku gets to class the next morning, Kacchan’s the only one in the room, and he’s still unpacking his backpack. Good timing.
He approaches Kacchan’s desk, repeating the words over and over in his head. Hey, Kacchan, I was wondering if we could set aside some time to talk about what happened when we were sparring the other day.
His heart’s going a mile a minute, and his tongue is as rough and heavy as pumice. It’s fine. It’s fine. He can do this.
Izuku steps in front of Kacchan’s desk.
Kacchan looks up. His eyes widen a bit, the corner of his mouth twitching so minutely that Izuku’s pretty sure he’s the only person who’d notice.
“Hey, Kacchan, can we set aside some time to talk about the Boner Incident?”
Oh, no.
Kacchan’s face skews in horror. He whips his head towards the door. Looks back at Izuku and hisses, “You’re calling it the Boner Incident?”
“That—that came out all wrong!” Izuku slaps a hand over his reddening face. Oh, god, why does he have to open his mouth and say things? How did he screw this up? “I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” Kacchan’s leaning far back in his chair and looking entirely aloof despite his nervousness a second ago. “Fine. We can talk.”
“Ah… okay. Yeah. Good. Thanks.”
Ugh. How does Izuku have entire notebooks filled with hero analyses when he can’t string together a simple sentence when it comes to an awkward situation with Kacchan?
Izuku hangs his head and walks to his seat.
“Hey,” Kacchan says.
Izuku whips around. Kacchan's eyes are still fixed towards the front of the classroom.
He hates when Kacchan does that. Izuku knows he cares, and Kacchan knows Izuku cares, so why does he have to act so flippant?
“Where we gonna talk?” Kacchan says.
Izuku ponders it for a moment. They can’t just talk in one of their rooms. It feels… dangerous? For some reason? And way too intimate, which is something Izuku’s positive will set off alarm bells in Kacchan’s brain. No, it needs to be neutral territory. Somewhere public, but also a place where they’re unlikely to be interrupted.
“How about behind Gym Gamma after practice tonight?”
Kacchan tuts. “You better not pick some extra to spar with just because you’re too chickenshit to go against me right now.”
Izuku puts his backpack on his desk and starts shuffling through his folder, looking for something to distract himself with. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“They don’t know how to handle One for All, and you know it.” Kacchan finally turns around, scowling. “You’re the one who thinks this is uncomfortable.”
Izuku resists the urge to distance himself from Kacchan’s challenging glare. “And you don’t?”
Kacchan turns to face him, raising an eyebrow.
Izuku clenches his jaw. “Kacchan.”
Silence.
Izuku heaves a frustrated sigh. “Can you just answer my question?”
Still nothing. Typical. Izuku takes his seat and pulls out his notes for their first lesson, trying to get his mind off of Kacchan as their classmates start shuffling in. It’s going to be a long day. For the first time since he started at UA, Izuku’s even considering skipping practice.
What is Kacchan doing to him?
Izuku doesn’t end up skipping practice, but he spends his time concentrating on endurance and strength training rather than sparring. His urge to spar with Kacchan is just as strong as his urge to run away from anything to do with the Boner Incident, so working on his individual power and stamina is a good middle ground.
After practice, the gym showers are crowded with enough people and conversation to keep the tension between himself and Kacchan at bay, at least for the most part. But Izuku can’t help noticing how his gaze keeps snapping to Kacchan when his back is turned—to the way his muscles move as he towels off his hair, the striking proportional difference between Kacchan’s shoulders and his waist. He wonders what it would be like to come up behind Kacchan, rest his hands on Kacchan's hips, kiss his neck…
Shit. He doesn't need another boner right now.
Izuku looks away and continues getting dressed, realizing this is hardly the first time he’s stolen glances at Kacchan in the locker room. He’d just thought it had been nothing but admiration for all the work Kacchan had put in over the years, but now he can’t help wondering if it’s more than that.
It is though. Has been for a while. But how did he never realize it was more than that?
When he’s finished getting ready, Izuku slings his duffle bag over his shoulder and heads out the back exit of the gym, setting it on the ground and sitting on top of it.
The moment Kacchan steps out to join him, Izuku jumps to his feet. Kacchan’s hair is slightly damp, and his skin is pink from what was likely a scalding hot shower.
It’s cute. Maybe. Yes. Cute. Definitely.
Do I think Kacchan’s cute?
Fuck. Of course he does. Kacchan's always been cute.
Kacchan drops his duffle, and it thumps against the ground. He folds his arms across his chest and looks at Izuku. “All right. I’m listening.”
Izuku is brimming with anxiety. He's going to be sick. He needs to open up about the Boner Incident, but he knows no matter how carefully he treads, there’s a high probability that it’ll open another bloated, botulism-tainted can of worms that he’s barely even begun to process himself.
He takes a few breaths to calm himself, which doesn’t work, but Kacchan staring at him in silence is infinitely worse than putting something out there.
“Look,” Izuku says, staring at Kacchan’s shoes. He can’t bring himself to meet Kacchan’s eyes. “The thing… It obviously happened for a reason. But I’m only now starting to piece it together. I never really thought about it before.”
Kacchan’s eyebrows shoot up, his characteristically hard scowl disappearing completely. “Seriously?”
Izuku grimaces. “I know; I know. You didn’t ask for this, and it’s going to make our friendship—or whatever—weird—”
“No, I mean…” Kacchan closes his eyes like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “You seriously never thought about it before?”
Izuku shakes his head and says quietly, “At least not consciously.”
“Damn.”
For some reason, that single word sparks panic in Izuku. “What d’you mean, ‘damn?’ I—I’m trying to explain myself, and I know you’ve never thought about this before either, so—”
“Would you stop assuming what I'm thinking?” Kacchan looks angry again, but there’s hurt behind his eyes, like he’s holding back something bigger. “You’re the one who’s uncomfortable. You’re the one who’s never thought about it before. Not. Me.”
Tenuous threads struggle to connect together the dots in Izuku’s mind.
You’re the one who’s uncomfortable. You’re the one who’s never thought about this before.
Does that mean…
“You’ve…” Izuku presses his shaky hands against his sides. “You’ve thought about me… like that?”
“Assumed it was mutual.” Kacchan looks down, eyes obscured by his hair. “Us dancing around this shit.”
Izuku gawks at Kacchan. Anything he’d been planning to say or do before that—groveling at Kacchan’s feet, begging his forgiveness, asking if they could still be friends—has been blown into thousands of tiny pieces of shrapnel. Because Kacchan has been aware of these feelings this whole time?
Izuku scratches the back of his head. “I’m, uh, not the most self-aware when it comes to certain things.”
“No shit,” Kacchan says, but he’s smiling.
Izuku’s grateful for what it does to loosen the tense strings between them. “I’m starting to think I might be…”
Kacchan waits patiently for him to continue.
Wow. That’s new.
“Gay,” Izuku blurts.
“It took popping a boner while pinning me down to even consider that?”
“Kacchan…” Izuku groans, hiding his burning face behind his hands.
“Sorry; sorry… Just—this is weird for me to say, too.”
That makes Izuku look up. Because Kacchan? Apologizing twice in one week? Unprecedented. If more people were around to witness it, it’d make the school paper. Thankfully they’re not, because Izuku’s never felt more vulnerable and exposed, not even when his dick was pressed against Kacchan’s leg.
“What do we do now?” Izuku asks.
Kacchan shrugs, looking back towards the dorms. “Since we’re on the same page, maybe go somewhere we don’t have to stand around talking with our thumbs up our asses?”
Any heat that had left Izuku’s face immediately returns.
“Just to talk!” Kacchan says. “Damn, Izuku, get your mind outta the gutter.”
Kacchan grabs his duffle and stalks towards the dorm, Izuku running to catch up with him.
“I can’t help it!” Izuku says. “The gutter’s kinda new to me!”
Kacchan laughs. “Please. Like you don’t watch porn.”
“That’s not the point!”
“And I know whatever shit Mineta watches echoes through your walls.”
“It’s just girls making really fake, annoying noises!”
“You must watch enough porn with girls in it to know how fake some of that shit can be.”
“No, not really.”
Kacchan stops in his tracks. “So you watch gay porn.”
Izuku keeps marching towards the dorms.
Kacchan follows. “And you never questioned your sexuality?”
“Stop yelling!” Izuku hisses. There aren’t many people out and about, but still. Kacchan is way too enthusiastic about Izuku’s porn habits. “Everybody watches gay porn!”
Okay, Izuku’s a bit of a hypocrite, because that came out louder than he meant, and a few students still wandering around campus turn their heads towards him. Izuku increases his pace to a run, Kacchan jogging beside him.
He lets them into the dorms, runs past their friends in the lounge, and scrambles for his keys with a shaking hand.
“You still wanna keep talking, or you want me to get lost?” Kacchan asks.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Izuku says as he finally gets the door to click open. He doesn’t know what he wants from Kacchan, but Izuku knows he wants him close. He pulls Kacchan inside and closes the door.
Izuku breathes a sigh of relief now that they're out of the eye of the scrutinizing public, but the ease dissipates when he realizes there’s only a ruler’s length of space between himself and Kacchan. That they’re alone, and Kacchan is staring at him with a mix of worry and anticipation. Izuku feels much the same, his raging gay crisis somehow eclipsing the raging boner he had just a few days before.
How do you get over a gay crisis?
“You all right?”
Maybe it’s the tinge of concern in Kacchan’s voice, or the softness in Kacchan’s expression Izuku cherishes but rarely sees. Maybe it’s the fact that this is out in the open now. Maybe it’s because they’re alone.
“Kacchan.” Izuku takes a tentative step forward. He takes Kacchan’s wrist in his hand. Kacchan starts a little, but he doesn't pull away. "I'm sorry for acting weird the past few days."
"You always act weird."
Izuku glares. "I'm sorry for acting weirder than usual. Is that better?"
"Mhm." Kacchan gives him a small, teasing smile.
Izuku can't help the wavering grin that trickles across his face, nor the fondness that billows through his chest. He keeps a hold of Kacchan's wrist and leads him to the bed. When they sit, their knees brush together.
Izuku withdraws his hand from Kacchan's wrist and smooths out his pants absentmindedly. "So. You too?"
"Gonna need you to clarify."
"The gay thing." Izuku cringes a little before he gets out the next part. "And the feelings thing."
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"I've known I was gay for like… forever." Kacchan looks shy but confident as he says it.
"That makes sense, actually," Izuku says. "You were never even interested in talking to girls. So why did I used to react the way I did?"
"Maybe you're bi. Or pan or something."
"Could be." Izuku chews at his lip. That doesn't feel quite right, either, but he doesn't know why. "How long has it been, uh… me?"
"A couple years?" Kacchan says, eyes cast downward as he toys with the duvet. "And also way longer than that. Just didn't realize."
"Trust me; I get it."
When Izuku looks up, Kacchan meets his eyes.
"So." Kacchan says.
"Yeah."
The awkwardness in the space between them is imbued with something else now that they’ve addressed the Boner Incident and what was behind it. Izuku knows there’s a lot more talking that needs to happen, but he can’t worry about it now. They’ve said what they needed to in that moment. Kacchan is gay. Izuku is something decidedly not-straight, and he’s most definitely Kacchan-sexual.
Sometimes, boners speak louder than words. Izuku laughs a little at the thought.
“What?” Kacchan asks.
“I don’t know why I was freaking out so much,” Izuku says. “Of course it’s you. Of course it’s always been you.”
Kacchan nudges Izuku with his knee, and Izuku leans into him a little, letting their shoulders touch. He’s both surprised and not at how effortless it is. At how the emotional and physical closeness is shifting into something more.
Their faces are close like this, and Izuku can’t stop his gaze from flickering down towards Kacchan’s lips. Izuku finds his hand, possessed by some newly awakened force, reaching up to cup Kacchan’s jaw. To turn Kacchan’s face towards him.
Kacchan’s eyes are half-closed and focused on Izuku’s own lips, and Izuku thinks, maybe—definitely—Kacchan is considering the same thing as him. He thinks of how, when it matters, he and Kacchan fundamentally understand one another. How in the heat of battle, their bodies move together like they’re connected by something greater than themselves. That their togetherness, in any capacity, is greater than the sum of themselves individually.
“Kacchan.” Izuku leans towards him. Tilts his head. Gives into the hard hammering of his heartbeat. “I wanna kiss you.”
Kacchan doesn’t answer, but he moves ever closer, ever so slowly. Kacchan’s eyes shut, and his hand wraps around the back of Izuku’s head. Izuku’s eyes snap open the moment their mouths come together, half from shock, half from needing to know it’s Kacchan whom he’s kissing.
You’re not supposed to kiss with your eyes open—Izuku knows—but he can’t help himself. Can’t help but watch the quenched yearning and satisfaction shining and opaque behind Kacchan’s lids. His eyes don’t shut until he realizes how soft Kacchan’s lips are, and when he does, he realizes feeling is even better than seeing.
It’s short; it’s infinite. It’s chaste; it’s imbued with a craving for something more.
When they break apart, their eyes flutter open. Izuku’s not even sure if it was a proper kiss—if he moved into it enough or at all. He thinks it might have been more of a pressing of lips than a proper kiss. He doesn’t think it matters.
“Wow,” is all Izuku can manage, looking at those lips that he now knows are soft and inviting and want him.
“Was it…” Kacchan trails off, cheeks tinted with the lightest shade of pink.
“Yeah,” Izuku manages. “But I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.”
Kacchan gives him a wry smile and jumps right back in.
The second time their lips meet, it’s definitely a proper kiss. Light, warm, inviting, like a dance with minimal, teasing touching that’s meant to draw forth more.
They break apart again, but just barely this time. Foreheads pressed together, Kacchan’s breath mingles with his own.
“You sure now?” Kacchan challenges.
“No,” Izuku bites his bottom lip, grinning.
“No?” Kacchan says. “That was the best goddamn kiss you’ll ever get in your life.”
“Oh, c’mon, Kacchan. You’re not even gonna challenge yourself?”
Kacchan's eyes light up at Izuku's obvious goading. The third time their lips meet, it's hard, passionate, enticing. Kacchan grabs the collar of Izuku's shirt and pulls him close, his tongue sliding between Izuku's lips and tangling with Izuku's.
And that… that sparks Izuku's need for more, more, more. He pushes against Kacchan's hold, kissing him into oblivion. Something about the roughness, the need to take and be taken, to conquer and be conquered, lights the same spark deep in Izuku's belly that he felt when they sparred.
He pushes Kacchan down onto the bed without breaking the kiss—he couldn't if he tried. His heart jolts when Kacchan whimpers against his mouth. Izuku lies down on top of him, consumed by the thought that he's needed this for so long.
Izuku only breaks their kiss to run his mouth down Kacchan's neck and suck hard at the sensitive skin there. Kacchan's gasps are delicious, and Izuku doesn't know how he ever lived without them. Doubts he can live another day without hearing that sound again.
When Kacchan rolls his hips, Izuku freezes. His head snaps up.
Kacchan’s looking at him, confused. “Too much?”
Izuku shakes his head. “N-no… Just. Uh. Sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
Izuku can think of nothing but the press of his hard dick against Kacchan’s leg.
“It’s happening again.”
Kacchan laughs. He rolls his hips against Izuku once more, grabbing Izuku’s ass and making it very clear that they’re on the same page, and… oh. Izuku was so concentrated on the awkwardness of his own boner, he somehow didn’t even notice Kacchan’s.
Now it’s all he can think about.
Izuku presses a hand against Kacchan’s crotch, and the hard outline of his dick beneath the fabric is doing things to Izuku he never thought possible. “This okay?”
Kacchan arches up into the touch. “If it’s you? Anything is okay.”
Oh.
Okay, now that is a dangerous sentence, and Izuku’s sure Kacchan has his limits, but apparently horny brain makes Kacchan lose himself a little. Izuku files that away for later as he goes for Kacchan’s shirt. Kacchan sits up and raises his arms over his head. Izuku removes Kacchan’s shirt, and then his own, throwing them in a heap on the floor.
They’re sitting close, kissing raw and hard, and when Kacchan tweaks his nipple, it shoots white hot desire straight to Izuku’s dick. Kacchan smiles a little shyly and plunges his mouth towards the place his hand just squeezed, sucking with so much force that Izuku swears he can feel the blood vessels burst. It hurts so good that a loud moan rushes out of Izuku’s mouth and echoes through the room. If any of Izuku’s hallmates are there, they definitely heard, but Izuku doesn’t care. He just wants to feel it again.
He encourages Kacchan by pressing Kacchan’s head towards his pec. Kacchan sucks again, and the sharp burn is everything.
Kacchan looks up at him with blown pupils and lidded eyes. “Does that hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to stop?”
“God, no. Never.”
Kacchan takes the invitation for what it is, climbing onto Izuku’s lap, ass pressed against Izuku’s painfully rock-hard cock as he sinks his teeth into Izuku’s unmarred nipple. Izuku’s grateful they’re both wearing athletic pants, because this would be absolutely intolerable in jeans. Like this, though, his dick has the freedom to slide against the space between Kacchan’s cheeks, and every bite, every hard suction of Kacchan’s mouth makes him slide against the man straddling him.
When Izuku eases his hands down Kacchan’s pants and grabs tight at the supple muscle of his ass, Kacchan lets go of his nipple and bends back, neck exposed, looking more open and vulnerable than Izuku thought possible. Before he knows it, Izuku’s flipping Kacchan back onto the bed, biting at his neck, pecs, stomach, hips… anything he can get his mouth on, relishing every little sound he teases out of Kacchan, challenging himself to draw out louder, lewder noises. To watch him come undone in every sense of the word.
When Izuku’s thumbs hook under the waistband of Kacchan’s pants, Kacchan is loud, insistent, as he says, “Oh my god, yes… more.”
Kacchan has the same expression on his face that he did when Izuku pinned him during their spar.
He gets Kacchan’s pants off at lightning speed, and Izuku maybe sees a little bit of the lightning of One for All flicker up his arms at the same time.
For a moment, Izuku basks in dazed awe at the man beneath him. At the heavy, throbbing cock that Izuku wraps his thumb and forefinger around, working slow, trying to drink in the moment. To remember every beautiful expression and noise Kacchan makes. Because Kacchan is beautiful. Izuku’s always recognized that, deep down. But seeing Kacchan like this, in a way Izuku knows Kacchan’s never shown—not to himself nor anyone else—it rings truer than it ever has before.
Kacchan reaches for Izuku’s own pants, but he’s such a gorgeous mess that his hands slip away when Izuku works Kacchan’s cock faster.
“What’s wrong, Kacchan?” Izuku can barely believe the teasing voice is coming from his own mouth. “You want these off?”
“You’re such a—” Kacchan’s eyes roll back when Izuku squeezes. “Shit.”
“Speak up, Kacchan.”
Somehow, Kacchan snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling Izuku’s hand away from his dick and flipping Izuku onto his back in one swift movement. He grabs the front of Izuku’s waistband, and Izuku smells the slight burn of fabric before Kacchan puts his hands on each side of Izuku’s pants and rips.
Izuku’s too stunned and turned on to care, because fuck, that might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s a toss-up between Kacchan turning the tables on him in the sexiest, most aggressive way possible and Kacchan submitting himself and melting beneath Izuku’s touch.
“Fuck.” Kacchan’s eyes widen at the thick, leaking cock that lies heavy against Izuku’s abdomen. He slides the ruined pants off Izuku and spits on his hand. When it wraps around Izuku’s dick, the wet heat makes him whimper and thrash against the bed. Kacchan’s staring up at him with a hard, scathing expression that’s so different from the one he held when he was the one being touched.
Kacchan lets go all too soon, but Izuku’s disappointment is quickly forgotten when Kacchan straddles him and slides Izuku’s dick between his cheeks. Kacchan sits up on Izuku’s hips, balancing himself with his thighs as he squeezes on each side of his own ass, letting the pressure and movement work Izuku into a frenzy. Izuku can do nothing but rut up against the friction. It’s so much, but he wants more, and he knows now exactly what Kacchan meant when he said he’d give anything to Izuku.
“This what you want, Iz-u-ku?” There’s a challenge behind Kacchan’s sharp smile.
“You know—” Izuku gasps, biting his lip, trying to control the rising pressure that Kacchan’s teasing is giving him. “I want—” He can’t let go—not yet. He needs everything and anything just as much as Kacchan does. “More.”
Kacchan looks a little startled. His rhythm is thrown off for a microsecond.
Izuku notices. Izuku always notices.
“What’s wrong?” Izuku rolls his hips against Kacchan’s ass, loving the way Kacchan’s control flickers again. “Not up for the challenge, Kat-su-ki?”
Izuku’s not sure if he’s ever used Kacchan’s full name before, but damn is he glad he saved it for this moment, because it does exactly what he intended.
Kacchan stops dead, and Izuku takes advantage of the rare opportunity and wraps his hand around Kacchan’s dick. He squeezes, just a bit, because if the first time Izuku did that told him anything, it’s that that small action drives Kacchan crazy.
Kacchan leans into Izuku’s neck and thrusts into his hand, whispering, “I better not have to go down to my room to grab lube.”
Izuku gives Kacchan’s ass a squeeze, sliding his fingers until he finds Kacchan’s rim and gives it a gentle stroke. The moment his fingers make contact, it takes everything in Izuku’s power to keep himself in control. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”
Kacchan’s arms shake as he brings himself up on his hands to hover over Izuku. “Who even are you?”
Izuku laughs a little at that. “I don’t even know anymore.”
As true as that statement is, Izuku can’t bring himself to care, not when it’s bringing out a part of Kacchan he didn’t know existed. He kisses Kacchan and pushes him up until they’re both sitting again.
Izuku considers going for the lube himself—he should be embarrassed by the other things he has in there, but a bigger part of himself wants Kacchan to be thrown off-guard again. In the end, he says, “Middle drawer of my nightstand.”
Kacchan opens it, staring.
Izuku just grins. “What’s wrong? See something you like?”
Kacchan growls and pulls out a black prostate massager. “I have this exact. Same. One.”
Oh, shit. That makes Izuku’s brain stutter a bit. He composes himself as best he can. “It’s… it’s a good one. Big fan.”
“Unbe-fucking-lievable,” Kacchan grumbles as he grabs the half-empty bottle of lube and slams the drawer shut to rejoin Izuku on the bed. “This is the lube I buy, too.”
Izuku laughs. Whatever competitive sex thing they had going on turns into mutual disbelief, at least for the moment. “This is wild.”
“Yeah,” Kacchan nods. His smile is a little crazed, like he’s trying to let it sink in. “Really shouldn’t be surprised, though.”
“C’mon, Kacchan.” Izuku nips playfully at his ear. “Of all the prostate massagers in the world, we buy the same one? It’s a little weird.”
“If it were anyone but you,” Kacchan grips Izuku’s hair and yanks his head back, biting hard into the muscle of Izuku’s shoulder and eking out a gasp, “I’d agree. Now lie back and wait for me to get ready. And don’t you dare touch yourself. I want me to be the next thing you feel.”
Just like that, the energy that consumes their spars is back, and Izuku has no intention of letting it do anything other than take him.
Izuku doesn’t know if Kacchan’s had sex before, but he does seem really comfortable as he opens himself up in front of Izuku. As his fingers slide in and shuffle apart to make room, Kacchan watches Izuku with a predatory grin.
He pushes down the thought of Kacchan doing this in front of other people as best he can. Izuku doesn’t know if Kacchan’s kisses and touches are practiced or new because Izuku doesn’t have anything to compare it to. And he can’t bring himself to ask because he doesn’t want to know. Izuku doesn’t want this moment with Kacchan to be consumed by jealousy. By thoughts of someone else. He wants it to be about them and only them.
It’s hard not to think it about when Kacchan isn’t touching him, though.
He focuses on Kacchan, splayed in front of him, fucking into his own fingers as he smiles at Izuku with his tongue between his teeth.
“Stop teasing me.” It’s taking everything Izuku possesses not to touch himself.
Kacchan slides his fingers out and crawls towards Izuku, sitting himself between Izuku’s thighs and biting. When his lips graze Izuku’s cock, Izuku pulls on his hair to stop him.
“When you said not to touch myself because you were gonna be the next thing I felt,” Izuku yanks Kacchan up, basking in the look of surprise on his face, “I only listened because I thought I was getting your ass, not your mouth.”
Kacchan stares. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck .” Izuku presses their foreheads together, egging Kacchan on with hard eyes. “That’s what you said you were gonna do, so do it.”
…and, okay, Kacchan had a point, because who even is Izuku right now?
Scowling, Kacchan splays a hand against Izuku’s chest, guides his dick to his rim, and takes him down in one fell swoop.
Izuku’s entire body feels like it’s going to explode. One second, they were teasing, and the next, he’s suddenly balls-deep inside Kacchan. Inside Kachaan.
Kacchan sits back on his hips, and when Izuku tries to move, he shifts his weight to pin Izuku. Somehow, Kacchan just keeps sitting. On his dick. It’s hot. Tight. Amazing, like everything else about Kacchan.
“What’s wrong, Izuku?” Kacchan fakes a pout that’s equal parts cute, aggravating, and inticing. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“This is cruel and unusual punish—”
“Don’t lie to me of all people . You know I can see right through it. This feels good, right?”
Izuku nods, gritting his teeth.
“That’s what I thought. Feels good for me, too. So just lie back and enjoy, hmm?”
Okay, yeah, obviously it feels good being inside Kacchan, even without the movement and friction he needs. Although Izuku hadn't had much time to consider what having sex with Kacchan would be like, he hadn't imagined it going like this. The constant back-and-forth. The teasing.
Izuku’d always thought any sex he had would be careful and gentle. But that's not who Kacchan is. And it's not who Izuku is, either.
He'd always had an idea of what his first time would be like. In a dark room with the vague image of a pretty girl beneath him. Saying "I love you" together the moment before their bodies intertwined, followed by soft lovemaking that ended in heartfelt tears.
That's not how it's going at all.
First of all, Izuku’s overhead light is on, highlighting every gorgeous feature, not of a woman, but a man (and Kacchan, of all men!), and Izuku is the one lying on his back. There were feelings exchanged, but certainly no blatant love confessions. And as much as they’re understanding each other in a way they never have before, it’s not in the sweet, romantic way Izuku always pictured.
It’s so much more—so much better— than what he thought he had planned for himself. Why picture some nonexistent future girlfriend when he could have Kacchan? Who would choose anyone over Kacchan?
Finally, Kacchan starts to move. It’s slow, intoxicating—watching Kacchan slide back and forth on his dick like that’s exactly where Kacchan wants it—exactly where it’s meant to be. Izuku can do nothing but grip at the duvet underneath him and let Kacchan take what he wants.
Kacchan rolls his head back in a half circle, still holding Izuku down as he rides him. “Feel so good inside me, Izuku…”
Something about that sentence gives Izuku the pinprick of clarity he needs to reach out and touch Kacchan again. He works his hand with rapid movements, and it doesn’t take long for Kacchan’s composure to crack. He falls forward, fucking Izuku hard as their mouths meet and they pant against one another, Kacchan’s sweat-dampened hair mixing with his own green curls.
Gotcha, Izuku thinks, but the emotion attached to it is far beyond his intent of getting yet another one over on Kacchan. Because Izuku has Kacchan, nothing but Kacchan, in this impassioned, intimate moment.
And Kacchan… Kacchan has him, too.
He grabs hold of Kacchan’s hips and increases their pace, and they’re both murmuring out wanting groans and half-formed sentences. Izuku couldn’t separate his from Kacchan’s if he wanted to.
“So… fucking good… inside…”
“...baby…”
“...incredible…”
“Need it deeper…”
Okay, that last one was definitely Kacchan.
They’re both so drunk on each other that their competitive natures have fallen by the wayside. Kacchan said deeper, and Izuku wants to be deeper. Wants to delve as deeply into Kacchan as he can, in every sense of the word.
Kacchan lifts himself off Izuku and lies on his back, pulling Izuku on top of him, into his arms. Izuku enters Kacchan slowly this time, feeling and appreciating and loving every inch of heat. He meets Kacchan’s eyes when he bottoms out, and what he sees is just… Kacchan. No anger or indignance or disdain. Just…
Love.
And to Izuku, that’s what Kacchan is. Pure, simple, unconditional, passionate love.
When Izuku lifts Kacchan’s leg and rests it against his shoulder, Kacchan lets out the most beautiful sound Izuku’s ever heard. Izuku will take it as slow or fast as Kacchan desires, but every movement will be imbued with the same emotion lit across Kacchan’s face.
Izuku does start slowly, kissing Kacchan, moaning as Kacchan nips at his lips, sucks at his tongue. He moves faster when Kacchan’s thrusts encourage him, and when they break their kiss, Kacchan opens his eyes to look at Izuku and nothing but Izuku.
Kacchan looks awestruck.
“You’re glowing,” Kacchan says.
Izuku almost asks Kacchan what he means, but then he sees the trails of lightning slip down his arms and chest. Izuku’s skin, too, emits a soft glow that he’s only witnessed in the heat of battle.
When he’s thinking of Kacchan.
There’s no danger here and nothing that Izuku fears. None of his quirks are active—not even One for All’s standard strength—and yet…
“It’s beautiful,” Kacchan says.
That, of all things, is what brings Izuku close to climax. He’s not sure if it’s himself or Kacchan that increases their speed, but they both give as much as they take, and when Kacchan cries out, spills between them, and clenches around Izuku, Izuku follows. Lets himself go completely, gives himself over to Kacchan’s heat, Kacchan’s embrace, Kacchan’s love.
They’re panting and sweaty when Izuku lowers Kacchan’s leg. He starts to pull out, but Kacchan stops him and pulls him into a deep kiss.
“Just a little longer,” Kacchan says.
Izuku wants nothing more than to grant him this, so he lets himself feel Kacchan, oversensitive as they both must be, and if it’s too much, neither of them care.
Kacchan caresses Izuku’s cheek and says with a soft smile, “You’re still glowing.”
They clean up as best they can in Izuku’s dorm, but neither can peel themselves away from the other long enough to head down to the showers. They curl up in Izuku’s bed, content to let their feelings and actions settle as acclimate to the swift, incredible turn their relationship has taken.
It’s Izuku who speaks first.
“Hey, Kacchan?”
“Mm?”
“I think I’m gay.”
“Congratulations.” Kacchan presses a kiss to Izuku’s cheek, a laugh escaping his mouth. “I’ll get the paperwork together for the club initiation tomorrow.”
Izuku doesn’t know why, but he’s suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about the whole thing. It’s still so new to him. He thought he was into girls a few days ago, and now he’s had sex with Kacchan.
“What if I were bi or pan though?” Izuku asks. “Could I still join?”
“Duh.”
“Kacchan…” Izuku’s brow furrows. He swallows the lump in his throat.
Kacchan shifts onto his back and pulls Izuku against his chest, wrapping his arm around Izuku. It’s the most safe and comfortable Izuku’s ever felt in his life.
“Do you want me?” Kacchan asks. “Like this?”
“Of course!” Izuku says. “Pretty sure I made that clear earlier.”
“Then it doesn’t matter to me what you identify as.” Kacchan’s shrug lifts Izuku’s head a little, and Izuku settles back into the embrace. “Anybody who does care ain’t worth your time, and they’ll have to answer to me.”
Izuku nuzzles his face into Kacchan’s chest, the light, transparent hair brushing against his nose. “Protective Kacchan is hot.”
Kacchan’s laugh reverberates through Izuku’s head. “Maybe that was my long game.”
Izuku pinches him teasingly, which makes Kacchan tickle Izuku. And Izuku hates being tickled, but he loves the moment so much, he can’t help but kiss Kacchan again and again and again until he relents.
When they come apart, Kacchan asks, “How’re you feeling?”
Izuku sighs contentedly, pecking a kiss against Kacchan’s lips. “Like I finally know who I am. And even if I don’t, it’s gonna be okay.”
Kacchan gives him the most genuine smile Izuku’s ever seen. “We should get cleaned up. Still got homework I need to do for tomorrow.”
Oh. Yeah. Homework. Life outside of Kacchan. Izuku kind of forgot that existed.
“You could come back when you’re done,” Izuku says. “Stay here tonight. If you want.”
The bold offer that escaped Izuku before he could even think about what it meant overwhelms him with fear.
“I have a lot of trouble sleeping,” Kacchan says, “especially if I ain’t in my own bed.”
“Oh.” Izuku looks down, trying to stop the feeling of rejection from overtaking him.
“But you could come to my room.”
“Oh!” Izuku lets out an uneasy laugh. “Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”
Kacchan untangles their bodies and sits up, leaning down to kiss Izuku again. “Ain’t gonna leave you hanging, nerd. Not ever again.”
When he watches Kacchan this time, it’s different than in the locker room. Izuku lets himself look, admire, and accept his feelings for what they truly are. And when Kacchan kisses him and amends his “bye” to a “see you later,” Izuku knows they’re done denying things—done pushing each other away.
Kacchan clicks his door shut, and Izuku falls back onto his bed, sinking his face into his pillow and embracing every part of Kacchan and every piece of himself. He might not have it all figured out, but he's well on his way.