Chapter Text
“You wanna be a hero, right kid?”
“Yes, more than anything!”
…
Izuku sighed as he picked up the tv remote from the crowded coffee table, knocking over one of many empty soda cans in the process. “It’d be nice to have even an ounce of that childish optimism left…”
He slouched back into the sofa, open laptop beside him as he busied himself with changing the channel on the tv. The room had long since darkened, the strain from staring at digital homework for the last several hours hurting his eyes. He should really go to bed, he has a lecture tomorrow at 9… but he couldn’t sleep without getting to something else first.
He could open his photo album. Busy himself with admiring the hundreds- no, probably thousands of candids he had collected.
News, cartoon, documentary, cartoon, news, documentary, documentary, news-
“—debuted at number four on the hero charts at the last hero awards, rescued several civilians from the wreckage of a severe bus accident that injured 3 others.”
Izuku froze, dry eyes glued to the screen as a familiar face was presented in an image, the young hero’s brows dug into his trademark scowl. He felt his heart clench, forgetting to breathe for a moment as he gaped in awe at the screen.
Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.
“Reporters were unable to retrieve any information from Dynamight, as the hero-“
Katsuki Bakugo.
“However authorities have delivered an official statement, the villain gang responsible for the hijacking have been identified and arrested-“
Kacchan. That same kacchan, that Izuku had grown up with. The same one that had turned on him when his quirk presented, and had relentlessly bullied him for all those years…
Yet, Izuku couldnt find it in himself to hate him for it. Ever. Not even when Katsuki had thrown his notebook into the schools koi pond, not even when he had told Izuku to kill himself.
Not even when he was forced to watch this boy he knew so well get into his dream school, leaving him in the dust.
Of course he expected it, he was quirkless.
Originally he was overwhelmed with a sense of hope. The kind that lifted his spirits before melting into a cancerous despair when reality stabbed into his heart. That kind of hope, that he could save lives and fill the hole that All Might had left when he retired so many years ago.
But it was all pointless anyways. Izuku was forced to give up on his dream, but he wasn’t quite ready to abandon the passion he found in idolizing heroes.
That’s what it was, truly! The same passionate admiration for All Might is definitely the same feeling he holds for Kacchan! When all might retired, he never stopped idolizing the Symbol of Peace… but watching his best friend climb the stairs to becoming a pro hero, succeeding just as he said he would…
you’d be crazy not to admire him too, even a little bit!!
Paycheck after paycheck had gone into Dynamight merchandise. Everything from figures, to posters, to collectible cards, Izuku owned nearly all of it. Kacchan was always dear to him, whether Katsuki had treated him well or not.
He blinked himself back to the room around him, his gaze returning to the television, before turning it off as he saw the program had changed subjects. He should really go to sleep, anyways. He’d spent enough time fantasizing about Katsuki already.
Glancing at the clock, which read 10pm, he winced slightly.
Forgot to call mom earlier, she’ll be worried tomorrow…
He padded gently into his bathroom, one of the few rooms without shelves of merchandise and posters scattering the interior, to brush his teeth.
What would happen, he wonders, if he and Katsuki were to cross paths…? He glanced in the mirror, is he even recognizable? Eye bags, outgrown hair that sweeps against his ears, nose, and the back of his neck.
The only good change was that he wasn’t quite as pitifully scrawny as he was in middle school. He spit toothpaste into the sink, taking a deep breath when he recognizes another wave of tightness wash over his chest, this time accompanied by a warmth in his cheeks.
It’d be so nice, to just have Katsukis eyes on him, even if they’re full of judgement and distaste like back then… he could almost laugh at himself, how pathetic can he get?!
It was a stupid, stupid thing to dream about. When would they cross paths… when Katsuki needed $20 on pump 3?? Between college and working, the only free time he really had was at night like this.
Izuku Midoriya is a total loser.
————————————————————————
Alcohol, strong and heavy, burned its way down Katsukis throat. Disgusting. He hated the taste. But fireball was the closest he could get to mixing spicy foods with getting drunk at bars.
“Jeez Bakugo, you in a bad mood from earlier or something?”
“‘Course not, idiot- we won with minimal collateral damage.”
Katsuki shot the red head beside him a glare, setting the heavy glass down rather roughly. Eijiro scratched the back of his head, sighing as he glances behind him at the other people in the bar.
Of course there was no paparazzi or anything, they weren’t in costume and the bar wasn’t really all that packed- much to eijiros relief.
“You kinda suck at lying, man…”
“Did we not win???”
Kirishima deadpanned katsuki.
“No, we did, I’m just saying… maybe you’d like to go work out… or patrol instead of getting drunk tonight?”
“If you don’t wanna drink with me then leave, but you gotta cover your own tab, Shitty Hair.”
Eijiro clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, shaking his head before turning back to his drink.
He understood Bakugo, most of the time. But every now and then, he would get all riled up for no apparent reason- even on the days where they had patrolled together, and Kirishima didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary!
While Kirishima began chatting with the bartender, Katsuki let his thumb rub against the rim of the glass. He wasn’t pissed off at Eijiro, if he was then he would definitely know it. He just hated feeling clueless.
He didn’t understand why tonight he was plagued by these thoughts again, the ones that irritated him and confused him (which of course, led to more irritation.)
He shoved them down a long time ago. Pushed them away, just like he did to that boy back then-
Shut up.
He silenced his own mind, familiar with the path they took from there, tossing his head back as he finished off his drink in two large gulps.
Eijiro turned back to the blonde haired man, watching him rise from the barstool and excuse himself (well, his exact words were “I’m taking a piss, don’t follow me like a weirdo.”) to the bathroom, giving him even more time to worry.
Katsuki bakugo is a total mystery!
He pushed the door open, mildly pleased that the bathroom was empty, stepping up to a urinal and unzipping his pants.
He let his mind wander again, thankfully to hero stuff instead of a certain someone, barely paying attention to another person entering the bathroom.
Katsuki turned on his heel when he had finished up and fixed his zipper, before he immediately froze in place.
The fuck??
A eerily familiar young man, about the same age but slightly shorter than Katsuki was at the sink, using napkins to wipe his shirt off in front of the mirror.
A mess of dark hair… slightly slouched shoulders, not quite relaxed but more awkward…
He felt his heart rate pick up, immediately on edge, forcing his eyes to view the man’s face in the mirror.
The eyes… thinner, and the irises were brown instead of green.
Katsuki couldn’t tell if he was more dissapointed or relieved that it was a complete stranger, steeling his face into a glare as we washes up his hands.
Stupid, so, SO stupid…
If he wasn’t irritated earlier, he definitely was now. He stomped up to the bar, barely even paying kirishima a glance before he threw a few bills onto the counter.
“We’re leaving, I’ll be in the car.”
Eijiro sighed again, picking up on bakugos worsening mood, fishing in his pockets for a tip for the bartender, who was probably scared shitless just by a certain somebodies loud ordering half an hour earlier…
…Atleast he covered the bill?
Katsuki slammed the car door shut, breathing heavily and catching the scent of alcohol on his own breath. Should he ask Kirishima to drive…? No, he didn’t end up drinking as much as he expected.
And plus, focusing a little extra on the road is exactly what he feels like he needs right now. Nothing sounds better than getting home to a shower, preferably a pretty hot one. Anything to take his mind off of D-
“Alright, we ready to go?”
He huffs out of his nose, starting the car and pulling off just as it begins to rain a bit.
The trip to Kirishimas condo is almost completely silent. The lack of noise rides the line between tense and mutual understanding, that they were both exhausted.
When the car stops, Eijiro stares at Katsuki until his gaze is returned, lifting an eyebrow and offering a slight smile.
“If something’s bothering you ya know you can come to me, right dude?”
He speaks with a tone of confidence, but not enough to cover up the slightest hint of worry- which Katsuki picks up on immediately.
He huffs through his nose, grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly, turning his gaze to his own hands in front of him.
“Yeah, whatever. Get outta my car.”
Well, it’s good enough for Kirishima, who exits the vehicle after bidding his friend farewell.
…
Katsuki drags his feet as he enters his own apartment, nearly falling asleep the entire drive there, to collapse onto his bed.
Originally the idea of a shower sounded like heaven to him, but at this point all he wants is sleep.
Eyelids drooping, he has half a mind to kick off his shoes and pants, not even making it under the covers fully before his breathing grows softer.
He thinks for a tiny second, maybe he should brush his teeth, but sleep takes him before he can actually consider getting up.
He’s suddenly laying on his back, a warm light seeping in from an opened window.
He feels oddly blissful, like somebody had came and massaged his back, treated him to a warm soak, like everything he was stressed about was a million miles away…
It looks like a hospital room, for some reason? His right arm feels restricted, like it was in a brace, a similar fuzzy weight on his cheek and wrapped over his forehead.
After gazing blankly at the ceiling for what feels like hours, he brings his attention to the weight at his side. The sun shines on two pairs of legs tangled together, his own…
and a man’s.
Bakugo shoots upright in bed with a gasp, the room around him still dark, alone in his bed. Upon glancing down, he realizes he had burned holes into his sheets from his palms releasing small explosion, again.
He furrows his brows, wiping sweat from his forehead, whispering soft curses.
Of course he had experienced dreams before. They were usually nonsensical, or felt as if they belonged to worlds other than his own, but this felt different.
It was so peaceful, he felt so fulfilled in it, so why…
Why does he feel like this? Sweaty, and annoyed, and angry and grossed out…
…And so unbearably guilty?