Archive of Our Own

In retrospect, maybe it made sense that everyone thought they were dating.

* * *

The door swings open to Kirishima greeting them with his usual wide grin. It’s a familiar sight, but one Izuku hasn’t seen in a while.

“Hey guys!” Kirishima exclaims as he yanks Kacchan into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so glad you could make it. It’s great to see you!” He lunges for Izuku next, and Izuku can’t help but laugh as bulky arms wrap around him. “Midoriya, dude, it’s been way too long!”

“I know,” Izuku says, clapping Kirishima on the back a few times. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it down here enough.”

Kirishima draws back and reaches instead for Izuku’s duffle bag. “Nah, I totally get it. Teaching keeps you busy. Bakugou’s always complaining about how much you’ve got going on.”

“Oi, fuck off,” Kacchan snaps, shooting his friend a glare. “Who’s complaining?”

“You,” Kirishima says simply. He leans in toward Izuku, dropping his volume as though he’s sharing some kind of secret. “He misses you when you’re not there.”

“I’m gonna stop telling you shit at all if you keep this up,” Kacchan grouses. He pushes his way into Kirishima’s apartment, only pausing to kick his shoes off, and then stomps off down the hall. Presumably to a guest room, Izuku guesses. Kacchan’s been down to visit Kirishima a lot more than Izuku has, and Izuku’s never stayed over at his place.

“Are you looking forward to moving back?” Izuku asks as he follows Kirishima inside.

“For sure, man. I’ve loved it down here, but I’m ready to come home.” He slings an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, steering them around a stack of packed boxes. “Can’t wait to hang out with everyone more again.”

“Kacchan’s excited about that, too,” Izuku says with a fond smile. “The timing worked out great – U.A. doesn’t start for another week.”

Kirishima huffs out a sheepish laugh. “I know. I didn’t mean to hog your time off, I bet you guys probably had plans.”

“Just this! We’re happy to help you move, Kirishima, it’s not a problem at all.”

“What’re friends for if not to help you with all the inconvenient stuff, right?” Kirishima releases Izuku when they get to the guest room, stepping through the door to toss his duffle bag onto the bed. Kacchan’s already in there, his own bag laid out across the top of the dresser as he digs for something inside. “Welp! You guys are in here.”

Kacchan pauses at that. Shoulders visibly tensing.

Izuku’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “A-ah… Okay!” His gaze darts toward the bed. The bed. Singular. “Thanks, Kirishima. This is, um. This is great!”

“Eh…” Kirishima plants his hands on his hips as he looks around. “It’s a bit bare bones, I know, but it was one of the first rooms I packed up since I don’t use it much. Still, the bed’s comfortable! Bakugou can tell you.”

Kacchan’s still got his back to them where he’s standing in front of the dresser. He clears his throat, before muttering in a gruff rumble, “It ain’t complete garbage, I guess.”

“Whatever, man,” Kirishima says, snorting. “I’ll let you guys get settled, then we’re gonna meet Fat Gum for dinner.” He turns to leave, but pauses at the door to give them another grateful look. “I’m really happy you’re both here.”

Izuku waits until he’s pulled the door shut behind him to skitter over to Kacchan’s side. “He’s got us both in here??” he asks in a rush, voice hushed. “I thought you said I’d be on the couch!”

“Yeah, because that was the fuckin’ logical assumption,” Kacchan hisses back at him. He spins around, eyeing the bed like it’s a dangerous animal as he pushes a hand through his hair. “That moron, what the hell. We’re grown-ass men, he thinks we’re gonna squeeze onto that thing?”

“It’s not that small,” Izuku stupidly says, and Kacchan scowls.

“It’s small for us. I’ll tell him I’m sleeping in the living room.”

“No!” Izuku bursts out, flapping his hands around. “Kacchan, that’s rude. He set us up in here and it’s only one night. We’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Kacchan grumbles. “But it ain’t my fault if you end up on the floor.”

*

*

Izuku waves his arm, flagging Todoroki down as he crosses the street. There are a surprising amount of people out considering the chill in the air that indicates snow is almost definitely on its way, but Todoroki weaves through the crowd with an ease that doesn’t match his broad frame.

“You made it!” Izuku says with a friendly smile when Todoroki finally pulls up in front of him.

“Yes, sorry.” Todoroki lets out a harried breath as he adjusts his scarf. “I wasn’t sure I was going to. There was an incident this afternoon.”

“I heard about that.” Izuku turns to lead them down the sidewalk. “Hopefully nothing too terrible?”

“I can tell you about it over dinner.” Todoroki shoots Izuku a curious look. “No Bakugou tonight?”

“No, unfortunately,” Izuku says, sighing. “He had too much paperwork to catch up on. I offered to help! But he kicked me out. I keep telling him he shouldn’t let it pile up, or he should at least bring on a sidekick to help out with everything, but you know how he is.”

“That’s a shame,” Todoroki murmurs. “He always has good restaurant recommendations.”

“Oh!” Izuku swings a bright grin in Todoroki’s direction. “Actually, he suggested a place! Said he was sick of soba anyway, so we might as well do this one without him.”

Todoroki blinks, his brow scrunching in confusion. “Who could get sick of soba?”

Izuku laughs. “Kacchan, I guess! Don’t worry, I’m still going to bring him leftovers. I want to swing by his place later anyway to make sure he’s actually there and not still at his agency. He needs his full eight hours of sleep.”

“When are you two going to move in together?” Todoroki asks, and Izuku barks out a quick laugh.

“I know,” he says sheepishly. “I’m always over there or he’s at mine, we probably seem codependent or something.”

“Attached at the hip, maybe,” Todoroki muses. “But that’s hardly surprising. No, I’m only asking because it just seems like it’d be more practical at this point.”

“Ah…” Izuku slows to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the other man. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been years, that’s all.” Todoroki slips his hands into his pockets as he turns to face Izuku, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “I know you’re often at U.A. but you’re maintaining your own apartment outside of that in addition to Bakugou’s apartment. That’s a lot, isn’t it? I’m sure you could find something centrally located.”

“I… Maybe?”

Huh.

Izuku would be lying if he said he’d never thought about living with Kacchan. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d always thought being roommates with him would be pretty fun. He’d toyed with the idea of suggesting it after graduation, but their lives had been heading in really different directions at that point so he’d chickened out of it.

And now, so many years on – wouldn’t it be weird to bring it up?

Besides, he’d just assumed that, as they got older, eventually Kacchan would be bringing partners home or maybe even choosing to live with a significant other. As much as the idea made his stomach twist up in knots for some reason, Kacchan was too much of a catch to never receive any interest.

But they’re both twenty-four now and Izuku’s never even heard about Kacchan taking someone on a date, much less anything beyond that. He’s as single as they come…

So is Izuku.

It might not be the worst idea.

“You know what?” Izuku says. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll see what he thinks!”

Todoroki’s head tips to the side. There’s an odd expression on his face, like maybe Izuku has accidentally started speaking a foreign language and he’s trying to make sense of it all.

“…I can’t imagine he’d turn you down,” Todoroki says slowly. “I’d be worried if he did.”

“You never know,” Izuku says, distracted suddenly as he spots their destination over Todoroki’s shoulder. “He’s weird about his privacy sometimes. Come on! The restaurant’s right over there.”

*

*

Hanging out with Fat Gum as an adult always means there’s going to be alcohol involved.

Izuku learned that the last time he visited Kirishima a couple years ago.

After dinner at a place way fancier than Izuku is used to, the older hero leads them down an overly crowded street lined with food stalls, standing bars, and bustling izakayas. Bright red lanterns are strung overhead to light their way as they move from one location to the next, downing a variety of drinks and small plates of food as they go. Fat Gum is excited to show them around and bring them to his favorite locales, and he gets plenty of waves and eager greetings from the other patrons at each establishment.

One of Izuku’s favorite things about being in his twenties is getting to know all his childhood heroes and mentors as the people they really are. Learning about them beyond the mask, seeing how they live their lives and sharing in the things that they enjoy. It’s something that took him a bit to get accustomed to at U.A., but he’s been out to karaoke with his own coworkers so many times now, has spent one too many nights sharing a beer with Aizawa-sensei or Present Mic as they commiserate about the pile of grading they have to get through, that he barely even blinks anymore at the sometimes jarring fact that he was their student less than a decade ago.

It's a similar experience hitting the town with Fat Gum, but given this is Kirishima’s last night as his sidekick, Izuku isn’t surprised that he wants to make it a memorable occasion.

Even Kacchan gets in on it, more than he ever does back home. Izuku knows he likes to keep a clear head in case there’s ever an emergency he has to deal with, so it’s rare that he really lets go. Even when they have class meetups, Kacchan usually only orders one beer and then spends the entire night nursing it.

So it’s amusing seeing him loose and limber now. Laughing when Fat Gum shares stories about Kirishima’s time in Esuha City, slumping into Kirishima’s side when they all crowd into a booth, challenging Izuku to a shot contest when they reach their fourth stop of the night – which is a terrible idea considering Izuku’s head is already swimming a bit by then.

(He totally wins, though.)

By the time they stumble back into Kirishima’s apartment, they’re all equally buzzed. Snickering amongst themselves and shushing each other as they bang into the walls on their way to the bedrooms. Kirishima reminds them where the bathroom is and then vanishes into his own room, leaving Izuku and Kacchan alone with their single bed.

Kacchan flops onto it fully clothed and just lies there for a minute, staring blankly up at the ceiling with a drunken flush across the top of his cheekbones. He looks really good like that, all rosy and content and relaxed. His shirt rides up across his stomach, wrinkled around the bottom of his ribcage, and Izuku can’t get his eyes to stop lingering on his bellybutton.

“That was really fun, huh?” he eventually forces himself to say as he fumbles with the button on his pants. “I don’t get to see you go all out like that very often.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz alcohol’s dumb,” Kacchan mumbles. He stretches out like a cat, back arching off the mattress for a moment before he collapses back down. “Makes my brain start thinking stupid shit.”

Izuku pulls on a pair of gym trunks and debates whether or not he feels like digging out a new t-shirt, as well. He usually sleeps shirtless, but with the whole shared bed situation…

Eh. It’s just Kacchan, it’s fine.

“Are you going to change?” he asks over his shoulder, and Kacchan just grunts at him. Izuku rolls his eyes. “At least take your jeans off.”

“Bossy,” Kacchan snarks, but he does as told and wriggles free until he’s down to his boxer briefs.

Izuku drops onto the mattress next to him and shuffles around, kicking the covers out of the way and curling up on his side so that he’s facing Kacchan. “Do you need any water?” he asks, and Kacchan’s nose scrunches up.

“You made me drink, like, three glasses of water already at that last place,” he complains. “M’not that drunk.”

“Don’t feel sick or anything?” Unthinkingly, Izuku reaches out to smooth Kacchan’s bangs back from his forehead. The move draws Kacchan’s eyes to him lightning quick and, oddly, the color in his cheeks seems to deepen.

“No,” Kacchan says after a beat. “A little floaty, but I’m good.”

Izuku hums, continuing to pet Kacchan’s hair until he finally realizes what he’s doing. He pulls his hand back fast and clears his throat. “It’s been a while since we last slept together.”

“I don’t think you wanna say it like that.”

“Not since U.A., right? Second or third year?”

“I guess.”

“Do you still get nightmares?” Izuku asks.

Kacchan’s gaze drifts back toward the ceiling before he gives a brief shake of his head. “Nah… Not really. You?”

“Not nearly as often.”

“Good.”

“I didn’t always show up at your door because of nightmares, though,” Izuku says absently, and Kacchan’s head snaps around so he can stare at him again.

“The fuck?”

“Is that weird?” A sheepish smile tugs at Izuku’s mouth. “Think I was overexcited about being friends with you again.”

“What,” Kacchan says, grinning in a teasing way. “You wanted to have sleepovers again like when we were brats?”

Izuku laughs. “I missed it! Sue me, I guess.”

“Such a damn nerd.”

“You were still a clingy sleeper, too.” Izuku chuckles when Kacchan immediately scoffs. “You were! Like a monkey, same as when we were kids. I always got a kick out of it.”

“You got a kick out of it,” Kacchan repeats in a slightly mocking tone. “What does that even mean?”

Izuku shrugs a little. “I dunno. I just liked it. You still do that?”

“How the hell should I know?” Kacchan shifts, bending his legs up until he can shove his feet under the covers. “How often do you think I get stuck sharing a bed with someone?”

Preferably never, Izuku doesn’t say. Instead, he curls an arm under his pillow as he settles into a more comfortable position. After a moment, he asks: “What kind of stupid shit do you think about?”

“Hah?”

“When you’ve been drinking,” Izuku clarifies. “You said it makes you start thinking stupid shit.”

“Oh.” Kacchan gives a slow blink, and Izuku can tell he’s struggling to stay awake. “I dunno, nothing important. Just – things. You sometimes.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Kacchan snickers as he scrubs a hand across his eyes. “You know. ‘Cuz you’re a stupid shit.”

Izuku gapes at him, and then reaches out to shove at his shoulder when he starts laughing harder. “Kacchan. That’s so mean!”

“You’ll live,” Kacchan says, still sniggering as he bats Izuku’s hand away. “Stay on your side of the bed, nerd.”

“Um, YOU’RE the monkey sleeper,” Izuku throws back at him. “You stay on your side.”

“I’ll go be a monkey sleeper on the couch if you piss me off,” Kacchan mutters. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, I better not have a headache in the morning.”

“We’ll get you some aspirin,” Izuku says. “Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Fine, stay up all night and bitch about your hangover tomorrow.”

“HEY.”

This time, it’s Izuku who snickers. “Goodnight, Kacchan.”

“Tch. Night, Izuku.”

*

*

“The project was funded by your old chums from Class A, lead by Bakugou!”

Izuku can’t stop smiling through the tears. Or maybe he can’t stop crying from joy. Either way, he’s beaming. Grin so big it’s making his cheeks ache.

Kacchan’s there, too. He’s always there.

Hand outstretched.

“C’mon, Deku!” he says, and Izuku goes.

*

*

It’s a long time in between class meetups this time. Almost five months since they last had a chance to get a group of them together.

They go to the same bar they always do – one that caters to heroes and doesn’t allow paparazzi anywhere within the vicinity. It’s the best they can hope for in terms of privacy unless they want to rent out a whole restaurant, but they usually save that option for special occasions.

Izuku gets roped into a drinking game with Sero and Shinsou early on, but he seeks out Kacchan immediately after. Finds him planted in a booth with a couple others and ungracefully collapses into the open seat beside him.

“You’re not supposed to let me drink with Shinsou,” he whines, falling in against Kacchan’s side. “It never ends well!”

Kacchan snorts. He’s holding the same beer he ordered when they got there, and Izuku already knows he’ll make it last at least another hour. But he lifts his free arm and braces it against the back of the booth so that Izuku can snuggle in closer, unobstructed. “I don’t remember volunteering to be your babysitter.”

“I volunteered you,” Izuku says mulishly. “I’m allowed to do that. I have the right.”

“The fuck gives you the right?”

“I have all the Kacchan rights.” Izuku focuses across the table and gives a feeble wave. “Hey Jirou. Hi Kaminari. Don’t drink with Shinsou.”

“Dude, I learned that lesson three years ago,” Kaminari says, grinning. “You only have to wake up pantsless in a public garden one time before you take a vow of sobriety when that guy’s involved.”

“Or you just learn to not be a lightweight,” Kacchan says, and it’s Izuku who snorts this time.

“Yeah, okay, Kacchan.”

“Oi.” Kacchan kicks at his ankle beneath the table. “I don’t drink a lot by choice, not because I can’t handle it.”

“Mm-hmmmm,” Kaminari hums doubtfully, sharing a knowing look with Izuku. “Sure thing, buddy. Oh!” He slams his glass down suddenly and starts scrambling out of the booth. “Sorry, Midoriya, gotta steal your guy for a bit. The pool table’s open, Bakugou!”

“Can’t,” Kacchan says. He gestures at Izuku. “Got nerd blocking me.”

“No, come on!” Kaminari clasps his hands together in front of his face. “You already said yes! And I’ve got a million more questions to ask you about running an agency–”

“That’s supposed to convince me to go with you?” Kacchan says, making a face.

“Oh hey, that’s right.” Izuku smiles up at Kaminari. “Congratulations! It’s really cool you’re going independent.”

“Thanks, man, I deeply regret it,” Kaminari says in a rush. He leans forward, smacking his hands against the table and bending across to scowl at Kacchan. “Freaking terrifying idea. Let’s go, Bakugou!”

“Ugh, fine.” Kacchan nudges Izuku until he grumpily slides out of the way. “Back in a few.”

They head off and Izuku drops back into the booth, already pouting. “My pillow…”

“Don’t worry,” Jirou says. “Denki sucks at pool, they’ll be back in thirty seconds. He’s just really excited about his agency and grilling everyone he can who’s already running their own.”

“Kacchan told me about it.” Izuku reaches out to snag Kacchan’s forgotten beer glass, taking a swig of whatever’s left. “He said you helped him find a location? And that he helped him fill out all the forms.” He stares down into the glass, idly swirling the amber liquid around. “Kacchan’s so good at paperwork when he does it on time. He’s very meticulous.”

Jirou smirks a little. “He’s still not letting you help with it, huh?”

“Hmph. No.” Izuku sighs. “Stubborn man.”

“Have you convinced him to take on any sidekicks yet?”

“Oh, he’s interviewed plenty of candidates.” Izuku props his elbow on the tabletop and lets his chin rest in his palm. “Says none of them are good enough.”

“Well, of course not.” Jirou points at him. “He wants you. No one else is ever gonna be good enough.”

Izuku lets out a sharp laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I haven’t been a hero in years.” Jirou arches her eyebrows at him and Izuku reluctantly amends: “A pro hero. Heck, I was never a pro.”

Jirou toys with her own drink for a moment. Turning the glass slowly in her hands. “What if you could be?”

Izuku blinks. “…I mean. I still wouldn’t be a sidekick. I’ve already got a job at U.A.”

“True,” Jirou murmurs. “Hey, I heard Kirishima’s moving back soon.”

“Oh – yeah!” Izuku straightens up, brightening. “Kacchan and I are going down at the end of March to help him bring all his stuff back up here.”

“Oh, no shit?”

“Yeah.” Izuku chuckles. “Kacchan’s trying to pretend it’s not a big deal, but he’s so happy.”

“Same with Denki,” Jirou says, with a small, almost private kind of smile. “He was practically bouncing off the walls when he told me. They’re ridiculous, aren’t they?”

Izuku nods. “Extremely. So what area did you find for his agency?”

Light pink blooms in Jirou’s cheeks as she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ahah, well. The building right next to mine happened to be vacant, so…”

Izuku watches her for a moment. It’s rare to see her any kind of flustered these days, so there’s something very sweet about this bashful moment she’s having. She’s quick to huff and chuck a balled-up napkin at him when he grins, though.

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters. “You know how it is.” She glances past Izuku in the direction of the pool table. “We like having our loved ones close.”

Uh.

Well. Yeah. Sure, that’s – true.

Izuku twists to look over his shoulder, bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

He would love to keep Kacchan close. Work side by side with him. Soar through the skies together as heroes like they’d always dreamed.

That’s not his reality, though.

And even his newer dreams are impossible fantasies.

Forever out of reach.

*

*

Izuku wakes with a start.

There’s a weight on his chest that he momentarily flails against. Whatever it is, it’s heavy. And hot as hell. Like sleeping under a very warm, human-shaped furnace–

Oh.

Izuku calms again.

It’s just Kacchan.

He’s tucked in against Izuku’s side, half plastered on top of him. Head pillowed on his shoulder, one arm slung across Izuku’s waist, a leg wedged in between his thighs.

“So much for staying on your side of the bed,” Izuku mumbles sleepily, pressing the heel of his hand against his eye. The faint signs of a headache pulse in the back of his skull, but he can already tell it’ll fade completely by morning. A quick glance toward the window tells him it’s still pitch black outside, so there’s still plenty of time for Izuku to sleep off the burgeoning hangover.

Kacchan really is like a furnace, though. He’s always run hot from what Izuku remembers and it’s clear that hasn’t changed over the years.

“Hey,” he whispers, shaking Kacchan’s shoulder a bit. “Kacchan. Wake up, monkey sleeper.”

Kacchan’s face twists into a grimace. He grunts some kind of protest, shifting like he’s trying to escape Izuku’s hand and simultaneously burrowing further in against Izuku’s shoulder, so Izuku jostles him harder.

“Kacchan.”

“Fuckin– What, Deku?”

“You’re smothering me.”

There’s a pause.

Kacchan lifts up onto his elbow so he can give Izuku a bleary glare. “I’m what?”

Izuku gestures at the limited space between them. “Doing your monkey thing,” he says, and Kacchan’s brow furrows.

His gaze drops, taking in his current position.

The way he’s sprawled half over Izuku. Curled almost possessively around him.

And suddenly his eyes go big.

“Oh – fuck. Sorry,” he fumbles to get out, rearing backwards. “I didn’t–”

“Okay, well don’t fling yourself off the bed,” Izuku says, quickly snatching up a handful of Kacchan’s shirt before he can scramble too far away. “It’s fine, you’re just hot.”

“Thanks,” Kacchan says, sounding almost distracted as he glowers down the length of his own body and spots the leg hooked around Izuku’s. “What the shit.”

“Not like that,” Izuku hisses. “Your body’s hot.”

Kacchan looks back up at him, eyebrows arching, and Izuku splutters.

“Your TEMPERATURE, Kacchan, oh my god.”

“Sure, nerd,” Kacchan says with a snicker. He starts peeling himself off Izuku in a much calmer way, but almost immediately freezes again. A choked noise gets caught in the back of his throat. “…Hah. Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Izuku asks, and Kacchan shakes his head.

“S’nothing,” he says quickly. “Don’t move.”

“Don’t…” Izuku sucks in a breath. “Oh my god, is there a spider?!” He tries to jerk his legs out of the way of the mystery creepy crawly, angling his whole body away from the far side of the bed and even further into Kacchan’s personal space. His hip nudges forward, thigh pressing into places it shouldn’t, and another strained sound slips free from Kacchan.

Probably because his boxer briefs are a very, very thin barrier between his extremely obvious erection and Izuku’s leg.

Izuku goes still, brain whirring. Kacchan’s entire body freezes so rigidly against him that a brief, hysterical thought flashes through his head that maybe this is what sharing a bed with Kirishima would feel like.

But no.

It’s Kacchan.

And Kacchan Jr.

“Um.”

“Don’t.”

Izuku cranes his neck, trying to peer between them. “Kacchan, are you hard?”

…Okay, so maybe there’s still a little liquid courage lingering in his veins. Or it could be that it’s the middle of the night and that somehow makes this whole thing feel extra surreal. Like they’re suddenly in some secluded bubble outside of time itself.

Either way, the question actually manages to crack straight through the tense atmosphere suddenly engulfing them, and Kacchan exhales a noisy sigh and lets his head fall back down to pillow against Izuku again. He’s lower than before, though. Face tucked against Izuku’s chest so that Izuku only gets an eyeful of blonde hair.

“Ignore it,” Kacchan mutters. “Just morning wood.”

“It’s not morning, though?” Izuku says, like a dumbass, and he feels Kacchan’s fingers dig into his ribs.

“Fuck off, you know what I mean! It’s not anything, it just happened. Ignore it.”

Izuku hums a bit. His leg shifts again, pushing up into the juncture of Kacchan’s thighs, and Kacchan’s hot breath shudders across Izuku’s pectoral.

“You gonna go back to sleep like that?”

“Was planning to.”

“Won’t that be uncomfortable?”

Kacchan grunts. His face turns, lifting toward Izuku until his chin rests against Izuku’s clavicle. He’s so close that it’s impossible to really look at him. Doing so makes Izuku go a little cross-eyed, and squinting through the darkness doesn’t help, but he does his best because it feels like Kacchan’s looking for something as he stares him down.

“You offering to help?” he eventually asks.

Izuku draws in a slow breath. His hand finds the small of Kacchan’s back, slipping beneath his shirt and flattening against warm skin.

Maybe pressing a little.

“I could,” Izuku says, voice so soft it’s barely a whisper. “If you want.”

Kacchan hefts himself up onto his elbow again, eyes gone narrow. “Are you still drunk?”

“No,” Izuku says truthfully. “Are you?”

“No.”

That doesn’t mean they’re totally unaffected. Izuku knows that.

He also knows he hasn’t felt anticipation like this ever before in his entire life. Heart hammering against the back of his ribcage, pulse dancing beneath his skin. It’s like they’re balanced on a precipice, each of them waiting for the other to make a move.

“Tell me no,” Izuku says. “And we’ll go to sleep.”

“Fuck that.” Kacchan leans down, going nose to nose with Izuku. “Not letting you back out now, ya damn nerd. You said you’d help.”

And then he surges forward, lips slotting in against Izuku’s as a burst of excited energy detonates in the center of Izuku’s chest.

Izuku pushes against Kacchan’s lower back again. Quietly encouraging him to grind forward, flex his hips against Izuku, something, anything. Whatever he wants as Izuku tips his chin up and kisses Kacchan back with a low, desperate sound.

They blow past the tentative, experimental stage pretty fast. The kiss turns slick when Kacchan opens his mouth, licking into Izuku, breathing him in as his hips roll against Izuku’s thigh. Soft, needy gasps escape him and Izuku greedily swallows down every single one.

Kacchan slides a hand down over Izuku’s abs, skirting around the top of his shorts. He dips his fingers beneath the waistband but Izuku pitches them both sideways before he can go any further. Dumps Kacchan onto his back and sprawls out on top of him, kissing down his neck and then back up again to suck at a spot beneath his jaw.

A breathy groan vibrates up from the depths of Kacchan’s throat as Izuku laves his tongue over the sweat-damp skin there. Izuku keeps his knee firmly planted between Kacchan’s legs, giving him something to squirm against while Izuku continues peppering him with kisses. Strong hands bury themselves in Izuku’s hair, tugging him in close until their mouths meet again in an electrifying rush. Messy and wet, sweltering heat growing quickly between them.

“Hang on, hang on,” Kacchan pants after a moment, yanking free from the kiss. He drops a hand down to palm Izuku through his shorts without any warning, and then lets out a pleased hum when Izuku jolts. Fingers curl around him through the material, adjusting to his length and stroking him even harder than he already was. “Okay, good,” Kacchan says. “Not just me.”

“Definitely not just you,” Izuku rasps out, and Kacchan hits him with a satisfied leer.

“Here.” He twists beneath Izuku, turning onto his side and scooting backwards until they’re spooned together. Kacchan’s back to Izuku’s chest.

His ass to Izuku’s crotch.

Kacchan reaches behind him and grabs Izuku’s hand, pulling it over his hip and guiding it beneath his boxer briefs. “Like this.”

“Like…” Izuku’s brain stutters. Screeches to a brief halt and then revs up again with deafening roar. He nudges his hips forward. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Kacchan breathes, and Izuku flashes hot all over. “Can’t make a mess. Not our sheets.”

…Right.

Because they’re visiting–

Well, at least that’ll save them from having to deal with any awkward stains in the morning.

Izuku strokes his fingers over the soft skin of Kacchan’s belly, slowly inching lower. He fits himself snuggly against Kacchan’s backside, slotting in perfectly against the plush curves of his ass. Kacchan moans and pushes back into him, then almost immediately wriggles forward again, trying to seek out Izuku’s hand.

“Izuku,” he gasps, a hint of urgency threaded into his tone. His voice is starting to break, uneven breaths punctuated with straining, choked sounds. “Come on. Fucking touch me already.”

Izuku does.

His hand slips lower, fingers curling, and Kacchan inhales with a sharp, ragged wheeze. Jerking forward into Izuku’s grasp, hips twitching every time Izuku tightens his grip. A shiver wracks his body when Izuku pants against the back of his neck.

It doesn’t take them long.

Izuku’s movements quickly turn frantic. He rubs forward, hips flexing into Kacchan. Free hand holding the other man steady, branded against the slope of his waist.

The tension builds, their bodies snapping taught as the mounting pleasure crests and eventually breaks free. Release hits them each with a flashbang burst of endorphins and they shudder against each other, breathing harshly into the otherwise quiet of the room.

Kacchan drifts off to sleep almost immediately after and Izuku follows him mere minutes later. He’s still wrapped around Kacchan, still holding him close with the arm slung over his hip, and when daylight eventually creeps in through the window, they wake up the same way they fell asleep.

Izuku can tell the exact moment awareness hits Kacchan from the way his muscles shift under his skin. An alarmed jolt lances through him, but Izuku just squeezes him tight until the anxious energy bleeds out of his body.

“Morning,” he mumbles into Kacchan’s hair.

A beat passes before Kacchan gives the arm around his waist a few tentative pats. “…Morning,” he says, voice warm and rumbly. His head turns, angling until he can meet Izuku’s eyes over his shoulder. “Okay?”

“Yeah, Kacchan.” Izuku gives him a sleepy smile. “We’re okay.”

*

*

“Open your damn eyes and try thinking more of yourself. Or else you’re gonna miss what’s staring you in the face.”

Izuku can feel his expression twisting in confusion. Where’s this even coming from?

Also, what the hell is going on with Kacchan’s back seats?! He feels like he’s about to sink straight through and fall out onto the street below the car or something.

In front of him, Kacchan huffs out an aggravated sigh. He keeps his eyes pinned on the road, shoulders slumping in a way that makes Izuku’s ribcage go tight.

“When everyone’s special to you…then no one is, basically.”

* * *

They don’t talk about it.

Kacchan hands him a new future, the gift of possibility, but they don’t ever discuss what happened that night.

And…it’s fine?

Izuku thinks it’s fine.

It doesn’t feel like anything has changed between them. There’s no weird tension, no awkward interactions. If anything, Kacchan seems happier for a while. Not that he seemed unhappy before, but he’s like a dog with a bone whenever Izuku shows up in his hero armor. Red eyes bright, that eager grin stretched across his face.

And hero-ing with him again is as amazing as Izuku thought it would be.

…When he has the time.

The beginning of the schoolyear is always extra busy, so really the best he can do is dedicate some of his weekends to suiting up. It seems like the logical solution – he gets the best of both worlds.

Except it quickly becomes clear that Kacchan had different expectations. Or at least a different idea of how things would turn out. Of how Izuku would utilize the suit.

Kacchan had different hopes, maybe, but this is Izuku’s life. The life he made for himself after realizing he was going to be Quirkless again. It’s his life and his job and everything he’s built up in all the YEARS that he’s been on this different path.

So, no, he can’t change everything overnight.

He can’t quit teaching to go work at Kacchan’s agency.

He can’t give up his students, he can’t give up his seminars, and he can’t give up the joy he gets from traveling around the country to visit other schools.

Things seem to slip sideways after Todoroki’s celebratory dinner. Not immediately, and not super obviously. There’s just a shift in the atmosphere whenever Izuku sees Kacchan. Izuku doesn’t even think anyone else notices. They can’t feel the odd strain between them the way Izuku can.

They don’t see the tightness present around Kacchan’s eyes.

But maybe they don’t notice because despite everything, Izuku and Kacchan manage to carry on as normal. Because they’re still not talking about it, still not addressing that anything could possibly feel off.

They take All Might hiking over summer break the same way they have been since the first time Izuku planned it as a surprise when Kacchan went independent and opened his own agency. It’s become an annual tradition, one that Izuku cherishes, so NOT doing it isn’t even an option.

When they reach the summit, All Might jokes that his old bones need a rest and finds a moss-covered log to sit on. Izuku joins him after a moment, leaving Kacchan on his own by the overlook.

“How is the suit treating you, my boy?” All Might asks as he accepts the water bottle Izuku passes to him. “Everything’s still functioning correctly, I assume?”

Izuku gives an eager nod. “It’s incredible, All Might. Really, I can’t thank you enough. Being back in the field has been amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you.” He leans in with a chuckle, lifting a hand to cup the side of his mouth. “You know it wasn’t just me, though.”

“Ah… No, I know.” Izuku looks across to where Kacchan’s standing, still with his back to them as he peers out across the valley. Arms loose, his hands shoved into his pockets. Shoulders slightly slumped. The distance between them makes him seem smaller somehow. “I’m grateful to everyone.”

“Young Bakugou was so eager to see the project completed.” All Might relaxes back on his hands, chin lifting as he tips his face toward the sky. “The bond you two have is really something special. It makes this old man proud to see how far you both have come!”

A nervous laugh spills out of Izuku without his permission. He can feel his face warming and lifts a hand to palm at the back of his neck. “A bond, huh…”

All Might grins. “Oh, come now,” he says, jostling a teasing elbow into Izuku’s side. “There’s no need to get bashful about it. We’re all rooting for you! I was half certain Young Bakugou was going to offer you a proposal of his own when we handed the suit over.” His grin widens, filling half his face as his eyes crinkle up and turn into upside-down crescents. “That’s usually the case when a man spends that much on a gift for his partner!”

“I – I mean.” Shoot. Izuku’s cheeks are burning now, he can feel it. Shame curdles in his gut, even though he’s mostly certain he didn’t do anything wrong. “Kacchan did…ask me something, I guess. Or, well – he didn’t outright propose anything, Kirishima sort of had to explain it to me, but–”

But I turned him down.

“Young Kirishima was there?” All Might blinks. “Well. That’s an odd way to go about it, but to each his own. If it worked out in the end, then that’s all that matters!” He claps a hand onto Izuku’s knee, looking so proud that Izuku can’t even breathe for fear of blurting out the wrong thing and disappointing him somehow. “I won’t say anything, you’ll share the news when you’re ready. As long as you’re both happy!”

We were, Izuku thinks miserably. He stares across at Kacchan again.

Longing.

* * *

“I’m so glad we decided to do this, Deku,” Uraraka says, smiling at him from the other side of the café table. “We were really letting it turn into all work, no play for awhile there. Remember when we used to do weekly movie nights? Ugh, we have to convince Iida to join us next time.”

Next to her, Tsuyu gives a fond roll of her eyes as she scoops up some of her parfait. “Those weekly movie nights lasted about two months, Ochako-chan.”

“Before any of us were doing anything important,” Izuku adds with a small grin. “I don’t even think my university classes had started yet.”

“I know!” Uraraka cries, flinging her hands up into the air. “It was still a great two months. Maybe we could do it once a quarter or something?”

Izuku nods. “I could probably make that work.”

“You’re keeping yourself pretty busy as it is,” Tsuyu says. “I noticed you’ve been out on the weekends more. And Todoroki-chan said you met up to patrol on a school night a couple weeks ago?” She gives him a little smirk, pointing her spoon at him. “Seems like you’re getting used to suiting up again.”

“…It’s starting to feel like it’s really mine, I guess.” Izuku scratches sheepishly at his cheek, eyes turning skyward. “I think I didn’t realize in the beginning how much I was still adjusting to it. Like having the armor at all was a dream I might wake up from any second. It felt too good to be true.”

“I was with Lemillion at a school the other day and he told me he’s starting to take bets on where you’ll land in the rankings in a couple months.” Uraraka sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “Have to say, I might be tiny bit pissed if you manage to shoot straight past us into the top ten when you haven’t even been back on the scene for a year yet.”

Izuku’s almost positive she’s kidding, but he still makes a note in the back of his head to call Hawks and be a thorn in his side about the hero charts (again). Maybe if he complains about the system enough, they’ll leave him off the rankings altogether.

Problematic nature of the entire thing aside – any popularity chart that allows Kacchan to be knocked down eleven spots is obviously inherently flawed anyway.

Tsuyu hits him with a knowing look suddenly. As if sensing where his thoughts have drifted. “Bakugou-chan would probably be thrilled to see you debut that high,” she idly comments, clearly enjoying watching the way Izuku squirms in his seat. “Where is he, anyway? I thought you might bring him.”

“He’s – um.” Izuku shrugs somewhat helplessly. “I don’t know. Also busy? I haven’t, uh…seen much of him lately. I think he’s sort of avoiding me, actually.”

*

*

“I just need a break, Izuku, okay? Fuckin’ shit, it’s not that big a deal.”

“You need a break?” Izuku repeats skeptically. He trails after Kacchan as he winds his way around the living room, picking up the dirty dishes left scattered about from the dinner he’d cooked for them earlier. “What the heck does that even mean?”

“It means what it means,” Kacchan grumbles. “I need space, I need time, I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Izuku gapes at him. “This? What’s this? You can’t be my friend anymore? Are you trying to take a break from ME?”

“Not – I mean, I guess, but you don’t gotta be so damn dramatic about it.” Kacchan trudges into the kitchen and dumps all the dishes in the sink before shooting Izuku a sullen glower. “I’m not cutting you off. I ain’t ever doing that to you again, Izuku. You know that.”

“You just said you can’t do FRIENDSHIP with me anymore!” Izuku sways sideways into one of the counters, gripping it tight to steady himself. He feels lightheaded all of a sudden. He feels sick. “How exactly am I supposed to take that?”

“I can’t do friendship the way we’re doing it now,” Kacchan mutters. He smacks at the faucet to turn it on. “It’s my fault. I thought… Fuck, I dunno what I thought. This whole year’s been a shitshow – I had this batshit insane idea it might turn out differently.”

“Different how?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Kacchan snatches up the scrub brush and starts angrily attacking one of the plates with it. “I’ll get over it, just gotta get my head right and I can’t do that when you’re hovering around all the damn time.”

Izuku steps closer, unfortunately probably exactly the kind of thing Kacchan doesn’t want him doing right now. But he does it anyway, opening the drawer where he knows Kacchan keeps his dishtowels and pulling one out. “…You know I love the suit, Kacchan.”

Kacchan grunts out some kind of affirmative. His eyes stay glued to the plate in his hands.

Izuku’s lips press into a thin line, mouth twisting at the corner. “Is this about me not joining your agency? Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad,” Kacchan snaps, splashing the plate down into the water. “For fuck’s sake, Izuku, I’m not a fuckin’ kid anymore. You’ve got a job you love already, I get it. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Disappointed then,” Izuku says softly, and Kacchan goes still. Izuku gestures for the soapy plate. “I think that one’s clean.”

Kacchan hands it over almost robotically, and a beat passes before he reaches for the next one. “I can be disappointed,” he says, equally quiet. “I’m allowed.”

“Of course you are.”

“I know it’s stupid as hell.” Kacchan scowls down at the scrub brush for a moment. “I didn’t – we didn’t give you that suit for us. It ain’t about me or what I want, we gave that to you. No catch, no strings, end of story.”

He shoves the newly clean plate at Izuku, who carefully accepts it. Rubbing gentle circles over its surface with the dishtowel.

It’s a Deku-branded dishtowel, Izuku notices suddenly. It still surprises him that he gets any merch at all, honestly. But sometimes he’ll see the weirdest items popping up in the oddest places, all because of a war he fought eight years ago.

“Does this also have to do with…” Izuku glances at Kacchan out of the corner of his eye, watching as the tips of his ears preemptively turn red. “…that night at Kirishima’s?”

“No,” Kacchan says. Short, blunt. “We can forget that happened.” And then, in a quiet mutter: “Probably for the best.”

*

*

“Avoiding you?” Tsuyu repeats, blinking her wide eyes. “What happened?”

“It’s complicated,” Izuku mumbles. “I can’t really get into it.”

“Wait, hang on.” Uraraka leans forward, her brow creased in concern. “This actually sounds kind of serious. Deku, are you guys okay?”

Izuku shrugs, gaze dropping. He pokes at the remainders of his lunch with his chopsticks. “He said he needed to take a break, so–”

Both Uraraka and Tsuyu gasp in a way that, honestly, Izuku thinks is maybe a little too dramatic for the situation. When he glances back up at them, they’re both pale and looking horrified or heartbroken or some other gobsmacked emotion that’s equally out of place.

Weird.

Tsuyu reaches out to grab his hand. “Surely it’s something you can fix, Midoriya-chan.”

“You guys can’t break up!” Uraraka adds, distressed. “I don’t think our class could take it.”

Izuku huffs out a light snort. “I don’t really think that’s…” He trails off. Blinks a few times. His forehead scrunches. “…I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

A similarly confused look washes over Uraraka’s face. “Why would I joke about it? I was rooting for you both. I always wanted you to make up back in school so I was thrilled when you got together.”

What.

Izuku blinks yet again. He feels like the entire planet has lurched sideways beneath his feet.

That doesn’t…

What?

“All Might said the same thing,” he mumbles distantly. “That he was rooting for us– Wait.” Izuku cuts his free hand through the air, panic creeping up the back of his throat. “Wait, what – you think we’re together?” His volume raises with every word. “You have to be together to break up, do you – wait – you think Kacchan and I are dating??”

Tsuyu and Uraraka just stare at him.

Utterly silent.

Until Tsuyu asks, in a weak voice: “…Aren’t you?”

Oh, holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

A rush of memories flood through Izuku’s head. Every interaction he’s had with his friends for the last – how many – god – YEARS. For years now. So many conversations recontextualize themselves in an instant. Phrases that were used, questions asked, assumptions made.

Kirishima had them bunking together because he thought they were an actual real-life romantic COUPLE and Izuku reels with the implications of that.

“Deku,” Uraraka calls out to him, and it’s clear she’s had to say his name multiple times to get his attention. She’s got his other hand clasped in between hers now. “Breathe.”

Izuku sucks in a wheezing breath.

Tsuyu gives the hand still in her grasp a squeeze. “It’s so obvious you both have feelings for each other,” she says, in her usual blunt way. “This is honestly shocking.”

“You think it’s shocking?!” Izuku cries. “Everyone thinks I’ve been dating my best friend for the entirety of my adult LIFE.”

“Well, and some of high school,” Uraraka says. She frowns a little. “You used to sneak into each other’s rooms; you can’t really blame any of us for thinking shit was going down.”

…Oh, that’s.

Mortifying.

Izuku can feel his face heat up to the point that he’s surprised there isn’t steam shooting out of his ears.

Their friends thought they were doing THAT?

On school property??? AS STUDENTS?!

He groans, letting his head drop forward to thunk off the table.

“Hey.” Tsuyu shakes him a bit. “Pity Party-chan. Do you love him?”

Izuku jerks upright again.

“Um.”

Uraraka rolls her eyes. “Oh please,” she says, releasing his hand and sitting back. “Don’t act like you have to think about it. That man died for you, and the only thing that kept you from burning the world down was the knowledge that they were trying to bring him back. We all saw the videos.” Izuku flinches, but Uraraka ignores him. Instead tracing her finger in idle patterns across the glass tabletop. “You know… I think it’s really important to be upfront about these things. I think it’s the bravest thing someone can do and probably one of the most underrated. Most people don’t understand how much strength it takes. They take it for granted. But it’s better than living your life with any regrets, right?” Her eyes lift, catching Izuku’s and holding steady. “If I had to do it again, I wouldn’t let myself be scared to say anything.”

“I’m not…scared,” Izuku starts, trying to wrangle the cacophony of thoughts and memories that are swirling around like a tornado in his head. He lets go of Tsuyu so he can wipe both palms against his jean-clad thighs. “But I can’t lose him. If something happened… If it didn’t work out–”

“It’s not working out now,” Uraraka points out. “Apparently. Bakugou said he needs a break?”

“He said he needs to…get his head right,” Izuku says faintly.

Uraraka gestures in a very told-you-so kind of way. “Why do you think that is, Deku? How do you think he actually feels?”

“I…“ Izuku’s shoulders lift in a helpless shrug. “I think he was upset. I kind of – I hurt his feelings with the suit, I think. I didn’t mean to, but.”

“He’s a big boy,” Uraraka says. “He can handle that part.”

A mournful sort of sound squeezes out of Izuku’s throat. “It sucks, though! I love being a hero with Kacchan, it’s what I wanted for most of my life, but things change. I had to change! And now I love being a teacher, too, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love being a hero anymore!”

“You can do more than one thing,” Tsuyu says. “Time commitment aside, that part is easy. Do you think it’s really about that, though?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think that’s why Bakugou-chan is upset?”

“Uh.” Izuku inhales a shaky breath. What they’re saying is crazy, right? The whole class is crazy, actually. Assuming what they have, seeing something that isn’t there.

Just because Kacchan is the person Izuku wants to hang out with more than anyone in the world, constantly, always, and because Kacchan apparently misses him when they’re apart and supported the whole plan for the armor and gave Izuku back a part of himself that he thought had been lost forever…

Just because Kacchan is the first person Izuku looks for when he enters a room and the last person he wants to talk to every night.

Just because he doesn’t know how to be without having Kacchan in his life.

Just because Kacchan has never once left his side since breaking down in the hospital after the war. Sobbing about how he thought he and Izuku were going to…

“Midoriya-chan.” Tsuyu’s voice is firm. No nonsense in her tone. When Izuku peeks at her, almost warily, he can tell she looks a little impatient. “He definitely loves you,” she says, and Izuku chokes on air.

“How are you so sure about that?” he asks, desperate. “Why would you–”

*

*

“Open your damn eyes and try thinking more of yourself. Or else you’re gonna miss what’s staring you in the face.”

“I guess I thought…we’d be competing…and I’d be on your heels for the rest of our lives.”

“You just got flat-out rejected, Bakugou!”

“The bond you two have is really something special.”

“I had this batshit insane idea it might turn out differently.”

“It’s better than living your life with any regrets, right?”

“We like having our loved ones close.”

“He definitely loves you.”

“……for the rest of our lives……”

“Do you love him?”

* * *

In retrospect, Izuku is an idiot.

“I have to go,” he says, standing so quickly that his chair tips backwards and clatters to the ground. He fumbles for his wallet, trying to find some coins to toss onto the table, but both Uraraka and Tsuya frantically wave him off.

“We’ve got it,” Tsuyu says. “Just go!”

“Tell Bakugou we said hi!” Uraraka cheerfully adds. “And we’d better be specifically thanked in your wedding vows.”

Izuku thinks maybe he breaks the sound barrier as he zooms toward Kacchan’s place. Possibly, it’s mostly a blur, but he knows he activated the armor to fly himself there faster which is so inappropriate and not at all what the suit is meant for.

He doesn’t care.

It should be a scheduled off day for Kacchan, but Izuku’s been trying to be respectful these past couple weeks so he hasn’t been constantly checking his calendar the way he used to. He can only hope things haven’t shifted too much as he slams into the ground outside Kacchan’s apartment complex.

The suit retracts, reverting to its dormant suitcase form, and Izuku blindly sprints through the doors. Up the stairs, down the hall, until he’s outside Kacchan’s door and banging his fist wildly against it.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for Kacchan to yank it open. He looks overly alert, eyes slightly widened in alarm, but he freezes when he spots Izuku. Quickly rakes his gaze over him from head to toe.

“Izuku, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks in a rush. “Are you hurt? Did something happen??”

“No, I’m – I’m fine,” Izuku pants. “I had to see you.”

“O…kay,” Kacchan says slowly. He backs away from the door, gesturing Izuku inside. “Did you run here? You nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

Izuku dumps the armor in the genkan and kicks off his shoes. He’s still shrugging out of his zip-up hoodie when he speaks. “Kacchan – did you know that EVERYONE thinks we’re dating?”

“Hah?” Kacchan’s standing just outside the genkan, waiting for him. His eyebrows draw down immediately at Izuku’s question. “What? Who the hell said that?”

“Uraraka,” Izuku says, and Kacchan scoffs.

“That’s one person–”

“Tsuyu,” Izuku continues. “Todoroki thinks it’s weird we don’t live together. I’m pretty sure All Might thinks we’re engaged?? My mother has sent me flowers every year at the same time for the past three years and I never even questioned it – I just figured she thought she was doing something nice – but I’m putting it together now that it’s always around the same dates we were in the hospital after the war. Kacchan, your mom calls me her favorite son!”

“That’s because she’s a bitch,” Kacchan mutters, but he’s lost some of the color in his face. He’s not looking at Izuku, instead squinting at something off to the side, and Izuku can almost see the mental math gymnastics his brain is currently performing.

“Everyone talks to me like they expect me to know everything that’s going on with you,” Izuku says. “And I always do, Kacchan. Always. They treat us like we’re two halves of the same whole and they’re all fucking right.”

Kacchan’s gaze snaps back over, catching on Izuku’s. “…Are they?”

“What are we doing?” Izuku asks desperately. “We’re taking a break? I don’t want that. I hate not being with you.” He steps forward, praying the other man doesn’t back away. “I’m sorry about the suit, Kacchan. I’m sorry I’m not out there being a hero with you every day–”

An annoyed sound sticks in Kacchan’s throat. “Don’t apologize for that, you idiot. It’s fine, I said you don’t owe me anything–”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku says again. “I wish I was still that person sometimes, believe me. Being by your side is all I’ve ever wanted, and the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life is taking this long to realize that I’ve had that all along.” He reaches out, hands cupping the curves of Kacchan’s face. “I don’t need to be a hero to be your partner. I don’t need to work with you during the day to be able to come home to you at night. You didn’t have to do all this, Kacchan – you just had to tell me that you love me.”

Kacchan swallows. His cheeks are warm beneath Izuku’s palms. “…Words are hard,” he grumbles after a moment, eyes sliding to the side, and a giddy thrill shoots up Izuku’s spine. “You’re supposed to be smart. I thought if I was fuckin’ obvious enough then you’d figure it out.”

“I’m an idiot, though,” Izuku says, grinning. “According to you.”

“You’re an oblivious dumbass is what you are,” Kacchan says. He settles a hand heavily on Izuku’s waist, fiddling with the material of his shirt.

“I’m not the one who said we should forget we ever hooked up,” Izuku points out.

“We were already acting like it hadn’t happened!” Kacchan scowls, going wonderfully red across the bridge of his nose. “And it was embarrassing. Pulling that kinda shit in someone else’s house – oh.” He grimaces. “Kirishima put us in the same room because he thought… Holy fuck.”

Izuku snickers a little. “I know, right?”

“ALL of them?!”

“Apparently.” He leans in, lifting his chin until his nose brushes against Kacchan’s. “Probably be a lot less embarrassing if we just let them all think they’ve been right this whole time.”

“My parents were there,” Kacchan says absently, and Izuku blinks. “At the hospital, I mean. They heard me – whatever. My mom didn’t lay off about it for fuckin’ ages.” He makes a face. “She kept teasing… If your mom was looking for specifics, I bet the hag spun some lame-ass story and came up with that as a date.” A low groan tears out of his throat and he lets his head fall back to smack against the wall behind him. “God, is this why Aizawa-sensei congratulated me the last time I was at U.A.?! I thought he was being a jerk about my rank!”

Izuku splutters out a laugh, ducking his head down to press into the curve of Kacchan’s neck. “We’re kind of pitiful.”

“This is some bullshit,” Kacchan complains, even as he wraps both his arms around Izuku’s waist and tugs him in close until they’re plastered against each other. “If any of them had just said something!”

“If YOU’D just said something,” Izuku murmurs. He presses a kiss against the underside of Kacchan’s jaw, remembering the sound he made the last time Izuku did that. It causes his breath to hitch this time instead, and Izuku grins against his skin.

“Or you,” Kacchan grumbles with a huff, and Izuku laughs again.

“I’m saying something now.” He lifts his head, finding Kacchan’s eyes. “I love you.”

Kacchan finally closes the distance between them, capturing Izuku’s lips with an intensity that makes his blood sing. It’s familiar and new all at the same time, like coming home and finding his favorite book and turning the page to a chapter he hasn’t read yet.

“You wanna go out with me?” Kacchan rumbles against Izuku’s mouth, and an easy smile curves across Izuku’s face.

“I think we should move in together.”

“Hmm. Or get married maybe.”

“We can do all of it,” Izuku says, and then curls a hand around Kacchan’s neck and leans in to kiss him again.

The future is wide open, after all.

FIN