Much Ado About Guard Dogs

by tumbleweedchaser

Summary:

Pro hero Ground Zero's apartment has just been crushed flat by Mt. Lady, but his boss, Fat Gum, sets him up with a sweet body guard gig that comes with free housing, food, and 24/7 access to the world's foremost genius of support gear. The only problem? Said scientist is being targeted by the League of Villains. Oh, and it's Midoriya Izuku--the kid he hasn't seen since telling the boy to take a swan dive off the roof of their middle school.

 

(I'm terrible at titles. Also summaries. Bodyguard trope goodness. Please read.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

Hey all!

I've been working on this for a while. I haven't finished writing it, but I feel like I'm far enough ahead that I can start posting chapters. (Also, it's spring break and there's a pretty good chance my campus is about to go online because of COVID19... so, symptoms of quarantine and social distancing include fanfiction??

Katsuki watched the live footage of Mt. Lady’s battle rampaging in the southern part of the town. It wasn’t that the fight was anything all that spectacular or that the villain was really all that special, but he was big. Really big. And the two giants were grappling in a park, squashing playground equipment, uprooting trees, and…

Katsuki felt his eye twitch, his shoulders tensed up, a series of loud pops emitted from his palms, “What the fucking shit!?”

“Hey Bakugou,” Kirishima commented lazily from his desk, “wasn’t that your apartment building?”

“FUCK!” Bakugou yelled, an explosion tearing into his desk.

“Aww, come on now, don’t throw a tantrum,” Kirishima said with a tense smile, “That’s not manly at all.”

“They just fucking rolled through my fucking apartment building!” Bakugou responded, kicking his chair, desk, and the wall indiscriminately.

A heavy sigh drew his attention, Fat Gum watched the continued live footage streaming on the television. Kirishima and Bakugou had joined him second year for work studies and then the hero had taken them on as sidekicks shortly after their graduation from UA. Over the course of eight years, a strong sense of trust and respect had formed, but the pro had little patience for Bakugou’s temper—granted, it was considerably calmer now than it had been.

“Destroying the office furniture isn’t going to improve the situation, Bakugou,” Fat Gum said sternly.

Katsuki took a deep breath, counted to ten, repeated the process a few times, and nodded firmly, “Right.”

“You’ll need to go pick up a property claim form, get some information from the agencies that’ll run clean up. Looks like the fight is over now anyway, by the time you get there, information will be available,” the pro advised calmly.

Bakugou gave another sharp nod, then grit his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists, “The claims people take forever…I don’t,” he released a low, frustrated growl, “where am I—“

“Just focus on collecting the appropriate paperwork for now,” the elder instructed, “I’ll see what I can sort out in terms of housing for you.”

“You can always crash on my sofa!” Kirishima added with a broad smile.

“You sleep on a pull-out couch in that crappy efficiency of yours!” Bakugou shot back, “I’m not sharing a bed with you for however many months this shit will take to fix!”

“I mean, we’re both broke dude,” Kirishima laughed, “how are you going to pay for another apartment right now?”

Before Bakugou could get a response out, Fat Gum landed a fist on top of Kirishima’s head, “Quit freaking him out more!”

“My bad! Sorry, sir!” Kirishima replied, unhardening his quirk.

With a growl, Bakugou slipped out of the room. He went down to the locker room first to change into civilian clothes and then began the journey to the claims office.

~~~~

Four and half extremely frustrating hours later, Bakugou flopped back down into his now slightly crooked office chair. The space was blessedly silent as Kirishima and most of the others were out patrolling.

He was tired, tense, hungry, and anxious. Maybe Fat Gum would let him sleep at the office, he could get a sleeping bag like Aizawa-sensei used to roll around in. He groaned at the mental image of himself zipped up like a caterpillar under his desk and ran a hand down his face.

“I hear you’re homeless!” sounded a familiar, overly-excited voice.

Bakugou looked up in surprise, he hadn’t even heard her come into the room, “What the hell are you doing here, Mei!?”

“I came by to drop off some of my new babies!” she responded with a gleam in her eye, “and with a job!”

“A job that could be a promising solution to your housing problem,” Fat Gum added from the doorway.

Bakugou quirked an eyebrow at him and then glanced back at the overenthusiastic, pink-haired inventor.

“A friend of mine needs a roommate,” Mei started to explain, “er, well, not a roommate exactly.”

Fat Gum released a noise that could be a grunt or a laugh, Bakugou wasn’t sure, “He’s a freelance support technician. Invented an item while he was in high school that earned him a great deal of praise—and cash.”

“That’s right!” Mei chimed in, “He’s super smart and makes the best gadgets!”

“What did he make that’s so damn special?”

“The Quirk Suppression Implant,” answered Fat Gum, “for a start. And he’s done a great number of projects for heroes the world over.”

“Wait? For real?” Bakugou asked, wide eyed, “That’s what they used to contain that Chisaki creep, right?”

“Yup!” Mei answered, “Buuuuut—“

“But what?” Bakugou asked with a glare.

“He’s not very good at taking care of himself,” answered Fat Gum. “He’s something of an eccentric, often focusing in on a project so intensely that he forgets to eat or sleep.”

“Aaaand he may have recently been attacked,” Mei added. “He’s been receiving a number of threats recently, serious ones, but he won’t go into protective custody because he’d have to leave his workspace.”

“And how does any of this result in my having a place to crash?”

Fat Gum handed him a manila envelope, “Congratulations, Ground Zero. You’re officially on guard duty.”

“Guard duty!?”

Mei laughed with a wide smile, “You’ll be moving in with him until the threat is apprehended!”

“We’ve been assured you’ll have a room to yourself. Your job will include physical protection, of course, but also ensuring he doesn’t work himself to death.”

“I didn’t go through hero training to be a fucking guard dog!” Bakugou barked.

“Free housing, extra pay, groceries paid for,” Fat Gum responded blankly, “in exchange for hanging around a genius support technician and making sure he eats, bathes, and sleeps on occasion. Take it or leave it, but don’t complain to me if you end up sharing a pull-out sofa bed with Red Riot.”

Katsuki had to admit, he’d be an idiot to pass it up. “Fine,” he huffed, “what’s this loser’s name anyway?”

“Oh,” Mei said, “didn’t I say before? It’s Midoriya Izuku.”

Chapter 2: Day 1

Fuck.

Katsuki’s mind buzzed with an odd sense of foreboding. Midoriya Izuku? The last time Katsuki had seen that shitty nerd had been in middle school, the day the slime monster attacked—the day he’d told Deku to jump off of the roof.

“Did you say Midoriya?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Mei replied, “He went to Shiketsu High School, but he and I collaborated on some bigger projects and even interned together a couple times.”

“Shiketsu?” Bakugou said quietly, more repeating the fact than asking a question.

“Is there a problem, Bakugou?” Fat Gum asked, taking in the sudden change in the young hero’s demeanor.

Bakugou looked to the ground, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “He and I went to middle school together. We didn’t—I was really mean to him,” Bakugou quietly admitted.

Mei frowned for a moment but then allowed her smile to return, “Izuku isn’t one to hold a grudge! And if he doesn’t want to look at your face, he’ll just keep to his workshop! Actually, he’ll probably keep to his workshop either way.”

“You won’t know how he’ll respond until you go,” Fat Gum added. “I’d want you on this job regardless of your current housing situation. It’s an important job. Check in, at the very least.”

Bakugou nodded, looking back to the pro, “Yes, sir.”

“Great!” Mei said, clasping onto Bakugou’s wrist, “Let’s go!”

“Right now!?”

“No time like the present!” Mei responded enthusiastically, dragging the blonde behind her as she exited the office.

 

~~~~

“You are aware this is a warehouse district, right?” Bakugou asked as he followed Mei off the train.

“Of course! You can’t set up a workshop in an apartment building,” Mei responded, a silent ‘duh’ in her voice.

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded with a huff, gesturing for her to lead the way.

The pink-haired woman walked briskly, obviously well-accustomed to the trek. A few blocks from the train station, she paused in front of a small, plain-looking, two-story, brick warehouse. There was a docking bay with a garage door not too far from where they stood in front of a thick metal door equipped with a key-code lock. Looking up, Bakugou could see windows along the second floor, thick curtains hanging inside to prevent light from entering the space.

Mei lifted her fist and knocked hard three times in a row, “I have the code, but I don’t like to use it if I don’t have to. He usually comes to the door after a couple knocks.” She paused a moment and then repeated the knocking again.

And again.

And again.

Just as Bakugou was about to blow the door in, he heard the heavy lock shift and the door pushed out towards them ever so slightly.

Mei gave him a quick smile, grabbing the door and opening it wider to reveal… no one, actually. Mei snorted and stepped in, “Izuku! It’s rude not to greet your guests!”

“It’s rude to interrupt people while they’re working,” came a quick, tired reply. Bakugou followed Mei inside, letting the heavy door fall shut behind him. The warehouse floor was divided up into four spaces: The docking bay, tall shelves of supplies and boxes, an extensive work space area, and a messy stretch of desks pushed together in a wide U shape nearby a staircase to the second floor. This is where he spotted Midoriya, taller than he’d have expected but still shorter than Bakugou, freckled face pale from too much time working indoors, messy hair long overdue for a cut, thick stubble clinging to his chin, mechanic’s grease smeared across his cheek and arms, bags under his eyes. The exhausted man stood at his desk, eyes already back on his work—if they’d ever strayed away at all. Bakugou assumed he’d opened the door with some switch at the computer.

“How are you, Mei?” Midoriya asked, not looking up from his desk as he flopped into his rolling office chair.

“Doing great! That charging set-up you helped me with worked beautifully!”

Midoriya smiled slightly, just a small uptick of his lips, a slight crinkle at the eye, but not the broad toothy grin Bakugou remembered from their childhood. “I’m glad to hear that,” he responded.

“I have a guest for you, Izuku,” Mei said casually, finally getting Midoriya to look up.

Katsuki inhaled sharply has Izuku’s intense focus turned itself on him. The emerald of his eyes just as brilliant, despite how worn the rest of the man seemed.

Midoriya’s eyes widened in recognition, “Kacchan?”

And Katsuki, for all his nervousness to see the boy again, found himself on auto-pilot. “Shitty nerd,” he said gruffly, “Still can’t say my name properly?”

Izuku furrowed his brow and, for a moment, Katsuki thought he was about to say something back to him, but instead Midoriya turned his green eyes back to Mei. “Why is Ground Zero here?” he asked, “Does he need work done?”

“Nope!” Mei responded, seemingly unaware of the tension building in the space, “He’s your new live-in bodyguard!”

“I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Midoriya,” Mei answered flatly, “You’ve had a serious threat made towards you and two separate attempts to follow through on said threat.”

“Do I look dead to you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Mei shot back, “Because honestly you look a bit like a zombie. When’s the last time you slept? Or ate? Or left the workshop at all?”

“If you just wanted me to have a babysitter you could have gotten me one of those PTSD dogs.”

“You have to have PTSD to get a PTSD dog.”

Midoriya rolled his eyes, “If the Commission can afford a live-in bodyguard they can buy me a PTSD dog. Surely some of them flunk out or something. Retire?”

Bakugou listened to the two scientists volley back and forth, seemingly ignoring his existence, before finally losing his cool. “Hey you shitty nerds!” he interrupted, “Don’t act like I’m not here! You think some flunky dog can do a better job than me at protecting your stupid ass?”

Izuku sighed and returned his gaze back to the work before him, “The dog would at least be pleasant company.”

“The fuck did you just say!?” Bakugou began, sparks popping on his palms.

“Bakugou!” Mei reprimanded, “You’re supposed to protect him, not kill him!”

“I told you this was a bad idea!” Bakugou retorted, “He doesn’t want me around!”

“Oh, pshh,” Mei dismissed him with a wave of her hand, “Izuku doesn’t want anyone around, ever. That’s why he needs a bodyguard who’s even more stubborn than he is. And no more protests from you!” she said, pointing her finger accusingly towards Midoriya, “The Professional Hero Commission arranged this! You don’t have a choice, mister!”

Midoriya never looked up from his work, “Fine. Just, take him upstairs for me?”

“When’s the last time you took a break, Izuku?” Mei asked firmly. Bakugou considered the weight of that question coming from Hatsume Mei of all people, who used to work three days straight without leaving the workshop for more than a bean bun or a bathroom run. Midoriya just shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Then you’re taking one now!” Mei said, turning on her heel and moving back towards the door, “You can show him around yourself!” And just like that she was gone, leaving the two men to stare at the door swinging shut behind her.

“You don’t have to stay,” Midoriya said, breaking the silence. Bakugou turned his head back to the scientist. Midoriya was back to focusing on the work in front of him, pencil scanning over and marking along something. His face was set in a loose pinch from concentration, a frown pulling at his lips. “You obviously didn’t intend to anyway,” Midoriya continued, “I assume you didn’t have a choice in the assignment.”

“What are you—“ Bakugou began.

“No bags.”

“What?”

“Being my PTSD babysitter dog is a probably a month long assignment, maybe two,” said Midoriya, “and you didn’t bring anything more than a manila envelope with you.”

“I’m not your fucking PTSD dog!” Bakugou spat, “or your babysitter!”

“Good. I don’t need one. Feel free to go home then.”

Home. Right.

Bakugou closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, counted to ten, and then let out a deep exhale. “My apartment building was crushed in a villain attack this morning. Mt. Lady got involved.”

At that, Midoriya finally looked up again, tilting his head to the side and thoughtfully looking over Bakugou. He hummed in thought and then returned to his work, “Upstairs, down the hall past the kitchen, second door to the right. Please don’t go in the clean room.”

“What?”

“The guest room is upstairs, down the hall past the kitchen, second door to the right,” Midoriya repeated. “And please don’t go in the clean room. It’s labeled and locked, but, well, what’s a lock against an explosion.”

“Clean room?”

“Some of my research requires access to a lab, so I arranged a clean room upstairs.”

Bakugou blinked at him for a moment, “Right. Guest room. Upstairs, down the hall, second door.”

“On the right,” Midoriya added. Then, after a pause, “If you’re here, Mei and the Commission might stop hovering. You need a place to stay anyway, so I guess it’s a win-win. Just, stay out of the way of my work and stay out of the clean room and my bedroom. Otherwise, I don’t really care what you do.”

“I’m not just going to bum around and not do my job,” Bakugou responded.

“You’re my bodyguard, right? That shouldn’t require you to mess with my work, or go in the clean room without me, or ever be in my bedroom.”

“My job is to make sure you take care of yourself and are kept safe,” Bakugou replied curtly.

Midoriya smirked at him, “And how does that mean you aren’t my PTSD babysitter dog?”

Bakugou growled, fists clenching, but rather than explode again he forced himself to take another deep breath. “Not a dog. Not a babysitter,” he said sternly, “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”

Midoriya made a vague gesture with his hand, waving Bakugou towards the stairway, and returned to his work without another word.

Katsuki took the easy exit and made his way upstairs. He wasn’t sure what exactly he expected to find upstairs, perhaps a hero memorabilia museum, but it wasn’t the stark blankness he was greeted with.

The stairway let out into a wide, open living space. Before really stopping to take in his new dwelling, Katsuki removed his shoes and placed them in getabako near the top of the stairway.

Then, he turned to take inventory. A large flat screen TV hung on one wall with three nice, cushy leather sofas and a square coffee table arranged nearby. Somewhat set off by large floor-to-ceiling bookshelves (complete with an attached, rolling ladder) was a small workout space with a treadmill, stair stepper, free weights, and a pull up bar. A dining table with seating for six had collected a visible film of dust over it. The kitchen was more or less separated from the rest of the space by an island bar counter. Judging from the stool that wasn’t pushed in completely and the dozen or so bottled drinks at varying stage of completion lined up along the bar, he guessed that was where Midoriya took in most of his meals.

The kitchen was immaculate. Pristine glass stove top, overhead microwave, wide fridge, plentiful shelving—the works. Yet, the only thing that seemed like it got any kind of use was the coffee maker. Bakugou made his way to the fridge and pulled it open only to find it nearly barren. The freezer on the other hand was stuffed with microwave ready meals, if they could be called that. He’d have to go grocery shopping.

 

The space was oddly empty. Yes there was furniture, but he questioned if anything but the stool had ever been sat on or used. It was as if someone had bought furniture sets straight from a magazine, thrown it in the room, and then never looked at it again. The bookshelves contained the most personal touch, if only that they were filled with texts—colorful sticky notes and page markers jutting from the tops like uncut grass. Some books were pulled out slightly, tilted down onto their spine as if marked for later, a few small stacks were piled on the floor. Aside from the bar and the books, the space seemed untouched. There were no knick-knacks or pictures. No posters. No memorabilia. No anything, really.

He made his way down the hallway, which ran down between the kitchen and dusty dining area. The second floor seemed to run the length of the warehouse, but the open living space only accounted for half of that. Down the hall he found seven doorways, most of them open.

The first on the left was a spacious bathroom. The second led to another office space, cleaner than the workspace downstairs but still cluttered with paper and tools. More bookshelves lined the walls here, as well as filing cabinets and a mid-sized safe. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice the scattered awards haphazardly thrown onto varying shelves and surfaces.

The third door was cracked open just enough for Katsuki to peek inside and spot a disheveled bed and a dresser that seemed to have more clothes on it than in it—Midoriya’s room then.

At the end of the hall a thick metal door with a key-code lock was labeled as the clean room. Bakugou let it be for now, though he admittedly did enjoy chemistry and lab spaces. He was curious to see inside.

Coming back down the hall, Bakugou found the next room was entirely empty, as if Midoriya had simply run out of ideas for what to put in the spaces of his home. The middle room was, according to what Midoriya had said, the guest room—his new home until further notice. It was spacious, with a queen sized bed taking the center point of one wall. The dresser was long and low, giving him space for his clothing (once he bought more) while also giving him a surface to put his things on. There was a nice L-shaped desk near the window, complete with a desktop computer. In the nook between the desk and the wall was a cozy lounge chair and, of course, more bookshelves. The shelves here, however, were only partially filled and mostly with literature rather than research materials.

Bakugou threw the envelope he’d been carrying onto the bed and then returned to the hall to investigate the final room. Coming from the living space, it was the first door on the right. The door was shut, but Katsuki knew it wasn’t the clean room or Deku’s bedroom, so he pushed it open with curiosity. He found himself staring at scattered, disorganized stacks of boxes. Some with lids, some without, and still more piles of smaller, brightly colored boxes and—oh, those were action figures.

He moved further into the space to investigate. Peering into one of the larger boxes, Katsuki found himself looking at All Might figurines. He popped open a few more, delicately rummaging through the space. Here was the museum he’d been expecting, all boxed up and carelessly stacked in a closed up room.

Curiosity piqued, Katsuki opened another box, this one a little more worn than the others as if it was regularly handled. Inside he found dozens of composition notebooks, neatly placed in rows, labeled and numbered on the side. His fingers ran over the spines, stopping over number 13. Gently, he pulled the notebook from its place and looked down at the scorched cover, wrinkled pages, and roughened edges. An all-too-familiar pang of guilt tightened in his throat and turned in his belly.

With a frown, he returned the notebook to its proper place, put the lid back on the box, and made his way back to his temporary bedroom. Sighing heavily, he fell back onto the bed.

~~~~

Bakugou’s stomach woke him a few hours later, announcing its hunger to the room. With a groan, Katsuki sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes as he fumbled to find his phone in his pocket.

6:34 pm

Damn. He didn’t really even remember dozing off, but now he’d slept away three hours of time he should have been using to figure out, well, everything.

Ignoring the missed messages from Kirishima and a few others, he threw his phone down on the bed, rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up fully. It landed near the manila envelope Fat Gum had given him back at the office.

His stomach growled again, but he pushed aside his hunger in favor of opening the envelope. He’d technically been on assignment a good four hours now and hadn’t even bothered to read over the damn details.

There wasn’t much inside. Normally, with an assignment like this, there’d be swathes of profiles on locations, villains, the client history, but he found himself spreading out four short documents. One was the official assignment packet from the Hero Commission, nothing too out of the norm or unexpected from what he’d been told. Stay with the assigned client, Midoriya Izuku, until the threat has been apprehended or otherwise neutralized. There was the added factor of “ensuring appropriate care of the client, including but not limited to: regular meal and water intake, regular sleep and rest habits, monitoring of appropriate safety, hygiene, and cleaning habits, and provision of social opportunities.”

Okay, that was pretty weird, but then Izuku was pretty weird.

The second document was the police report of the threat, apparently called in by Mei rather than Midoriya. He skimmed over the document, “…attempted to recruit…upon decline…proceeded to burn… Wait, what? Bakugou read more closely and his eyes widened with realization. He scrambled to the villain profile document. Dabi? Fucking League of Villains Second in Command Dabi? Fuck.

Katsuki reached for the final document: Midoriya’s profile. He skimmed over the boring shit he already knew and looked for more useful information, like what the fuck the nerd had been doing since he disappeared in middle school. The information pretty much matched what Mei had already told him, but he tried to find the gap between his leaving middle school and enrolling at Shiketsu.

“Homebound Private Tutoring: Medical Requirement – physical rehabilitation and emotional counseling”

“The fuck?” Katsuki muttered to himself, “The fuck does that mean?” He re-read the education history, unable to find anything more. Finally he turned the page, seeking out the medical information. And there he found his answer in small black and white print.

“Neurosis, Panic Attacks, Clinical Depression, Suicidal Tendencies (Attempted Suicide: Aged 12, 14, 17), Agoraphobia”

They were fourteen when Bakugou had told him to… “Age 12?” Bakugou said aloud.

“Mmm, that was the time with the cut on my leg.”

Bakugou practically jumped out of his skin, “The fuck!?” He was on his feet, ready to attack, only to find himself looking at a bored Midoriya standing at his door. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.”

“You—“ Bakugou cut himself short, realizing his hands were sparking, prepared for a fight still. He flexed his fingers, dropping his hands to his side, “Sorry. You surprised me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional hero or something?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou growled.

Midoriya rolled his eyes, leaning onto the frame of the door, “I wouldn’t put too much stock into those files. Most of the information is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“The suicide attempts,” Midoriya stated, “everyone I know finds out one way or another and starts acting ridiculous, but they never read the full reports and they never let me explain the actual situation. So, people act like I’m some fragile creature that’s going to slit my wrists at the drop of a hat.”

“And if I read the full reports?”

“I’ve never attempted suicide. I got the cut interfering in a fight and tried to wrap it myself, but it was a lot deeper than I realized and it bled through my pants. So my mom found out, rushed me to the ER. The nurses insisted it had to have been self-inflicted. Worst summer break of my life.”

Bakugou was silent, but his face must have expressed his confusion. Midoriya let out a huff, almost a laugh, “Not everything is about you, Kacchan. You were horrible, yes, but I didn’t get the cut from you. It was a random guy trying to mug some middle school girl, but no one believed me and there was no report made, so they claimed I’d made it up. Spent a year going to therapy.”

When Katsuki didn’t answer, Midoriya continued, “And then, that day the slime monster attacked, I jumped into the fight. While you were being praised for how brave you were, the heroes were chastising me for being reckless. Then they found out I was quirkless.”

“Wait,” Bakugou held up his hand, “Are you telling me they labeled your involvement in that as a suicide attempt?”

Midoriya answered with a shrug, “I was put on watch and into therapy, again. The therapist told my mother my desire to be a hero despite being quirkless was an indication of suicidal thoughts and tendencies. Then they lumped it together with my prior history and, well, I’ve been on close watch ever since.”

“That’s—“

“Inane?”

“I was going to say fucked up.”

Midoriya huffed again, that almost-laugh paired with a slight uptick of his mouth.

“What about the third attempt, the one when you were 17?”

“Villain attack,” Midoriya answered with a shrug, “third year.”

“The Yakuza attacked Shiketsu, I remember that.”

“I got involved in the fight,” said Midoriya, “to deliver some equipment to my classmates. It allowed for a turning point in the fight actually, and we were able to capture Chisaki using a prototype I’d been working on.”

“Fat Gum mentioned that, the Quirk Suppression Implant.”

“That’s the one!” Midoriya said with a closed-lip smile, “I was quite proud.”

“But they labeled your involvement as a repeat of when you were 14?”

Midoriya’s face returned to its passive, bored expression, “You always were a quick learner, Kacchan.”

“You aren’t bullshitting me? Just trying to get me to leave you alone?”

“I’m sure you could get ahold of more thorough records, if you wanted,” Midoriya said with another shrug, “I’d even sign off on them if you wanted, give you permission to read them.”

“What about the other stuff? Panic attacks, agoraphobia, neurosis?”

Midoriya raised an eyebrow, “You do remember my nervousness, right? Muttering, writing everything down, contact avoidance, the works.”

Katsuki could certainly remember the neurosis.

Midoriya continued, “And panic attacks have been pretty normal for me most of my life, but they got a lot worse and more severe after the attack at the school.”

“What about the agoraphobia?”

“Labelling of both the agoraphobia and the suicidal tendencies are the direct result of my tendency to focus on my work. I prefer to spend my time researching and working. I get too focused and forget to do other stuff.”

“Like eat?”

Midoriya shrugged again.

“You didn’t panic when I almost attacked you just now, or when you saw me down in the shop earlier.”

“Should I be panicking?” Midoriya asked, “You’re a pro now, Kacchan, not some insecure teenaged brat.”

Bakugou considered this and nodded, “Good. That’s…Did the League actually try to recruit you?”

Izuku rolled his eyes and scoffed, “They’ve been trying for years. Mei just happened to walk into the shop when Dabi was still here. Turned into a shit-show.”

“Wait--Years!?”

“I mean, if you were them, wouldn’t you be interested? Do you realize the kind of hero tech I make?”

“Not really, no.”

Midoriya scoffed again, “How very like a hero.”

“What’s that supposed--”

Izuku cut him off, “I’ve done work for twenty-one of the current top fifty, in addition to dozens of sidekicks and underground heroes. Most of them can’t even tell you my damn name. Stop and think about it, who makes your gauntlets? Your costume? Your other equipment?”

“The agency hires a support tech agency to handle all that,” Bakugou answered, “I mean, Mei works for them.”

“Which agency?” asked Midoriya, “I mean, Mei likes to deliver her babies herself, so she interacts with heroes a lot, but which agency does she work for?”

Bakugou blinked at him, “I, uh, I don’t—“

“You don’t know, because people rarely do,” Midoriya finished for him, “but villains, smart villains, they know that the tech is often what makes the hero. They do their research.”

“So they come knocking on your door.”

“Doesn’t help that I’m one of maybe five people who know how to break a Quirk Suppression Implant.”

“And you just, what, say no?”

“Yup.”

“And the villains just say, ‘Oh, sorry to bother you!”

“Of course not. They threaten and bully and try to scare me, but most of them are no worse than you were in middle school. If they kill me, that doesn’t get them what they want, and I have security measures on all my work and prototypes that cause them to self-destruct if the lock is tampered with in any way.”

“So they can’t just rob you, because it’ll blow up in their faces,” Bakugou said with an approving grin.

“Yup.”

“Probably keep some cool self-defense gadgets on you as well.”

“Of course.”

“That’s actually really—“ Bakugou was cut off by his stomach making another rather loud roar in complaint.

Midoriya gave a tiny grin, “Ah, right. That’s why I came up here in the first place. I ordered a pizza, it’s on the bar. Help yourself.”

“Oh…thanks,” Katsuki said, standing up from the bed, and leaving the paperwork behind. He followed Midoriya down the hall, back to the living area. “Pretty nice set up you’ve got here,” Bakugou said casually.

“Tech pays,” Midoriya said with a bored gesture of his hand. “To be honest, I don’t even really know what to do with it. I hired a company to convert the warehouse, told them I wanted a lab, workshop, office, and studio apartment. I guess I overestimated my budget because I came back to this.”

Once they’d arrived in the kitchen, Midoriya lifted the lid of the pizza box and grabbed one of the larger slices. With his free hand, he grabbed one of the partially drank bottles of water from the bar and began his way back to the stairs. “You can now say you’ve seen to me eating,” he said, not really looking back, “don’t interrupt me unless it’s important.”

Bakugou opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t know what to say. He watched as Midoriya disappeared down the stairs, still barefoot.

He shook his head in disbelief, was this really the same Midoriya Izuku? Whether or not he was actually being threatened by the league, he clearly needed reminders of self-care. PTSD dog indeed.

If he was going to live here rent free, he was going to do his assignment to the fullest of his abilities. He could take care of Midoriya, it couldn’t be that hard after all, and he owed it to the nerd.

Yeah, he could do this.

Chapter 3: Day 2

His first order of business was to buy some basics. He would need some clothes, sleepwear, boxer briefs, hygiene products, replacement phone charger, and something beyond frozen meals for food.

Bakugou kept his shopping trip short that night, sticking to what he’d need most immediately and could afford with his current bank account balance. He made a decent amount, but heroes pay checks were often tied to their rankings and he wasn’t quite raking in the cash yet. What he did get mostly went into savings—he and Kirishima had big plans to open their own agency soon. So, they kept up the pauper lifestyle for the time being.

On his way out to shop, Midoriya gave him the code in place of a farewell. The scientist didn’t so much as acknowledge him when Bakugou returned, arms loaded with bags. The blond grumbled some, but ultimately left the green haired man to his work.

Upstairs he sorted through the groceries, put away his new belongings, dressing himself in his new blue pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. Finally, he went about texting the string of people who’d attempted to contact him throughout the day. Quickly and efficiently he let them know he’d secured a place to stay through work, that he was fine, and that there was nothing to worry about. His mother and Kirishima took a bit more assurance than most of the others; Bakugou wasn’t too sure what that said about his red headed friend.

That done, he allowed himself to curl into his temporary bed and sleep for the night.

In the morning, he went about his standard routine of brushing his teeth, showering, and so forth. His first official take-care-of-the-client duty was to see about breakfast. From the kitchen he could hear the noise of machinery at work downstairs, but it wasn’t obnoxiously loud—he passively wondered what type of sound dampening tech could be at work. He contemplated fetching Midoriya first, but figured it’d be easier to bribe him into coming upstairs with the lure of food so he padded further into the kitchen. There was coffee in the pot, but upon closer inspection Bakugou found it cold and stale. He scrubbed the pot clean and brewed a fresh batch. Then, he made a large omelet and split it between two plates. Finally, he made his way downstairs to look for his new charge.

Midoriya wasn’t at the big U-shaped assemblage of desks, but he wasn’t hard to find given the noise of the machinery he was using. For a moment, Bakugou just watched the man work. It was somewhat fascinating to see the deep concentration apparent on Midoriya’s face as he gently guided the shaped metal through the components of the machine. If he had to guess, Izuku seemed to be forming the base of some kind of arm piece, but it was hard to really say at this point.

After a few moments, Midoriya pulled the metal from the machine, looking it over carefully and brushing away dust and shards.

“Hungry?” Bakugou asked, interrupting the man.

“Just ate,” Midoriya answered, not looking up.

“Ate what? The kitchen was untouched.”

Midoriya shot him a slightly confused look, “What time is it?”

“Like nine in the morning?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t need to eat, I’m close to finishing this project. I can stop then.”

“Is the pizza the last thing you ate?” Bakugou asked, “You had one slice.”

“It’s more than enough.”

“Did you come upstairs at all after dinner last night?”

“Made coffee,” Izuku said, his attention fully returned to his work, “I should replace the busted one down here.”

“You mean the cold, stale coffee that was just sitting in the pot upstairs?”

The green haired man shrugged his shoulders, setting the metal down and reaching for some other piece. Bakugou moved forward before he could set the machine working again. “When is the last time you slept?” he asked gruffly.

Midoriya shrugged, “I dunno, a few days ago maybe? It’s fine. I’ll sleep when I’m done, I should be finished today.” The scientist looked at his work, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms, “Upstairs, now. You need breakfast and a nap.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t disrupt my work,” Midoriya replied with a glare.

“Part of the mission I have been placed on is monitoring your care,” Bakugou retorted.

“PTSD dog.”

“A. I’m not a dog. B. You so obviously wouldn’t listen to a dog.”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but the blond cut him off, “Last warning. Go now on your own or I’ll carry you.”

Izuku deepened his glare, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya said with a warning tone in his voice, “I don’t have time to –“

He was cut off as Bakugou squatted in front of him, arms wrapping around his torso, and bodily lifted Midoriya from the ground. The hero hefted the scientist over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and began making his way to and then up the stairs. Midoriya protested the entire way, loudly complaining and weakly hitting Bakugou’s back while he wriggled against the hero’s hold.

“Fucking stop it, nerd,” Bakugou demanded, shifting him slightly as he continued up into the living space, “and why are you so God damn heavy?”

“Put me down!” Midoriya shouted, smacking a limp fist against Bakugou’s back.

When he was unceremoniously dumped on his preferred stool, Midoriya pouted. Bakugou slid the omelet towards Midoriya, poured them both a mug of fresh coffee, and took a seat at the bar near Midoriya. The green haired man continued to pout.

“Eat that, take a shower—‘cause you reek—get some sleep,” Bakugou commanded, “and then I swear I won’t bother you again until your project is finished.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Like the plague.”

“I’m a grown adult, this is my home, you can’t just—“

“I swear to god I’ll throw you in the shower and wash you myself,” Bakugou threatened with a glare and a few pops of his palm.

Midoriya glared more deeply, reading Bakugou’s face. “You have to wake me up after twenty minutes.”

“Two hours.”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Hour half.”

“Thirty five minutes.”

“Hour flat. Final offer.”

Midoriya considered it, “Ugh, fine,” he agreed as he stabbed at his omelet with this fork. He angrily shoved a bite into his mouth and then paused. “Did you make this?”

“Where the fuck else would it have come from?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s just…it’s really good.”

“Thanks,” Bakugou responded, “you can show me how much you appreciate it by finishing your plate and not making such a fucking fuss.”

Midoriya rolled his eyes, but took another bite. Bakugou focused on his own food for the time being, unsure how to fill the silence between them. He couldn’t help but frown—there was a lot to be said between them, a lot he needed to say, but he wasn’t sure where to begin. Hey remember when I told you to kill yourself? My bad. Sorry I was such a fucknugget all the time.

It just didn’t feel right. Instead he asked, “When’s your deadline?”

“Deadline?”

Katsuki quirked an eyebrow, “For your project? You seem rushed. When’s your deadline?”

“Oh, uh,” Midoriya shoveled an oversized bite of omelet into his mouth and shrugged his shoulder as he made some noises that could have been words if not for the enormous amount of omelet in his mouth.

“Izuku.”

“Yush?”

Bakugou leveled his amber eyes on Midoriya, “Does this project have a deadline?”

Midoriya swallowed the omelet and then proceeded to reach for his coffee.

“Answer me.”

“I mean,” Midoriya answered with a wobbly smile, the kind that always meant he was lying through his fucking teeth, “it’s important I finish it as soon as possible.”

“There isn’t one, is there?”

“Technically it’s a prototype? Something I thought of after working with Mei on a charging system and if I can finish it quickly then I can send it off for testing and once I have results and feedback I can streamline it and of course that will help the hero it’s designed for and if the hero has the best equipment available then they can help more people and honestly can you even put a deadline on human lives, Kacchan?”

Bakugou slammed his palm down on the counter, rattling the plates nearby, “You are so sleeping for more than an hour, shitty nerd!”

“You can’t just make that decision!” Midoriya yelled.

“You aren’t even working on an actual commission or official project!” Bakugou yelled back, “What’s the point of killing yourself over a fucking prototype! That’s stupid!”

Midoriya was suddenly on his feet, omelet forgotten, “Fuck you! You are in my god damn house, Bakugou. You think you can just waltz in and tell me what to do?”

Somehow hearing Izuku use his name felt like a slap to the face. It took Katsuki an honest second to rise to his own feet and retort, “I’m on an official PHC mission, Deku. It’s literally my job to make sure you eat, bathe, sleep, and stay safe.”

The anger in Midoriya shifted suddenly, moving from a warm anger to something far colder in mere seconds. The scientist took in a deep breath, his jaw visibly tightening as he ground his molars together, his glare sharpened as he met Katsuki’s gaze. Ground Zero had faced plenty of adversaries since he began the hero path. Hell, he’d been chained up in the League’s lair for fuck’s sake, but something in Midoriya’s glare had an edge of danger to it that was different from anything he’d ever seen before.

“My name is Midoriya Izuku. Use it or get the fuck out.”

Suddenly, it clicked. He’d said Deku. Bakugou hadn’t even realized he’d slipped back into the habit. He immediately relented, hands up in surrender, taking a full step away from Izuku. “Fuck, Izuku, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Didn’t what, Bakugou? Think real hard before you finish that sentence.”

Bakugou swallowed, as if trying to wash the thought off his tongue.

“Stop pretending like you give a shit about me,” Midoriya spat out, “I get it, you took a shitty job with a shitty, useless nerd because you need a place to crash. Fine. Whatever. I don’t give a shit, I’m never up here anyway. But don’t for a second think you are in charge here. I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I don’t need your help and I sure as fuck don’t want it.”

Midoriya shoved past him, quickly reaching and descending the staircase. Bakugou flinched at the sound of something below crashing and breaking, followed by the metallic clank of tools hitting cement. He’d never known Midoriya to have a temper, but then he’d never known him to have much of a backbone either and yet...

He’d assumed he could just strong-arm Midoriya like when they were younger, just intimidate him into doing whatever Bakugou deemed necessary to fulfill the demands of the mission. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Midoriya might have changed just as much as he himself had over the past decade. Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fuck.”

Foregoing dishes for now and flat-out avoiding the now eerily quiet Midoriya, he made his way to the leather sofa. Elbows on knees, leaning forward on the cushion, Bakugou fiddled with his cell. Who to call? Mei? Kirishima? Fat Gum?

For a fleeting second he thought of Inko. As long as it had been since he’d seen Izuku, it had been even longer since he’d encountered the man’s mother. He couldn’t see that particular phone call going well, even if her contact information was still correct.

He decided on Mei. Still, it took a half hour to sort out exactly what he needed to ask.

“What’s up Blasty!” she answered with her normal maniacal cheer.

Bakugou cleared his throat, “Hey, Mei.”

“Uh oh,” she said, “what happened? Did he blow something up? Was it the welder, because I told him that modification wasn’t sa—“

“I fucked up.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes. No? Fuck,” Bakugou sighed, “Physically he’s fine. I mean, no sleep for who knows how long and I can’t imagine he’s bathed recently, but he’s eaten a little bit.”

“Food is good. He was pretty far down the rabbit hole when I dropped you off yesterday, pretty remarkable you got him to stop to eat in that state.”

“I’d even negotiated a bath and a nap.”

“Impressive!” she replied, “But?”

He sighed again, “I called him Deku on accident.”

Mei was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, “Oh.” The response confirmed his suspicion that Mei was aware of his shared past with Midoriya, at least to some extent.

“I just, slipped? I asked him when his project was due ‘cause he seems so wound up about finishing it in the next day or two but—“

“There’s no deadline?”

“Right.”

“I should have explained that,” said Mei, “I should’ve… He isn’t with an agency. That is, how do I—He’s freelance.”

“I think I remember Fat Gum saying that back in the office,” replied Bakugou, “but I don’t really know what that means in the support world.”

Mei gave a thoughtful hum before explaining, “Midoriya is one of those once in a century geniuses. He sorta fiddles around with things, tinkers with them, breaks the modern understanding of physics, biology, and chemistry, and then creates some tiny thing that ends up in every piece of tech we use.” She paused, “Like the implant that got him all the initial attention. Prior to his development, most quirk suppression was based on specific needs of the quirk user. But Izuku, he created something that works on the neurological level—no matter the quirk. It was the first real one-size-fits-all quirk suppressor and that is a really huge deal.”

“That’s—impressive.”

“Bakugou, that invention alone—one he made at the age of 17 in the tech room of his high school—has already had global effects in law enforcement and the justice system. It’s revolutionary. History making. Study his name a hundred years from now big. And it isn’t his only invention like that.

“But he doesn’t like all the constraints of the Commission and agencies or I-Island. So he’s freelance. Heroes sometimes request he take a look at something, but they can’t technically hire him because of the contractual obligations hero agencies have with their tech agencies. He has to look at it, patent it, and then sell its use to the agencies.”

“Isn’t that a bit…asinine?”

“Yes. But he frequently releases his patents to the common domain, so anyone can use his inventions for free. He’s standardizing industries in ways we haven’t seen since Edison or Musk.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. You called him useless. To his face. In his own home. In his workshop. Where he has literally changed and improved the world more than once.”

“I—“

“Look, Izuku is,” Mei sighed heavily, “he’s done so much already to help people, but what he always wanted was to be out in the field. He wanted to be the hero, to see the people he was helping, to get some tiny ounce of recognition from the people who told him his whole life that he couldn’t do that. And no matter how many rewards he gets, or patents, or recognition from his scientific peers, it bothers him more than he says that heroes rarely know that. That the public rarely knows that. It’s frustrating, for anyone in the field.

“I mean, for god’s sake the man has a Nobel Prize and he isn’t even thirty yet, but most people don’t even recognize his damn name. No matter what he does, it’s never enough. He knows and he understands, but he doesn’t get to see how he’s helping others. So he throws himself into his work. It’s a manic cycle sometimes, weeks of obsessing over a project and the closer he gets to the end of one, the worse his self-care gets until he’s far past his limits. Then he crashes, hard, for a bit while he waits on paperwork and testing and everything else and then he throws himself into the next stage or the next project.

“Between projects he can be just as reckless due to his lack of focus. He does so much but he doesn’t feel like it matters. He’s trying to prove himself. Prove his value.”

“Prove himself to who?” asked Bakugou.

Hatsume huffed out a worn-out laugh, “You. Or at least, people like you.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Mei waited patiently for Bakugou to take it all in.

“Can you--” Bakugou started, he cleared his throat and tried again, “Can you tell me more about his suicide attempts? He caught me reading his report and—“

“Don’t let him lie to you about that shit,” Mei cut him off. “I’ve read the reports, I’ve talked to his mom, hell I’ve even seen the doctors’ records.”

“And?”

“The cut when he was 12 really was caused from jumping into a fight to help someone. But he always neglects to explain that he jumped in when there were three armed, adult males, all with blade-oriented quirks, mugging a girl.

“The one when he was 17, at Shiketsu was bullshit. I agree with him on that one.”

Bakugou swallowed heavily, “And the one at 14?”

“He jumped off a bridge and broke both of his legs, Bakugou. What’s to clarify?”

“He what?”

She sighed again, “Like I said, don’t let him lie to you.”

“I shouldn’t be on this job.”

“What? Why?” asked Hatsume.

“What do you mean, why?”

“She doesn’t know,” said Midoriya from behind Katsuki. The hero leapt from the couch, letting out an unheroic squeal, “How the fuck do you keep doing that!?”

Midoriya shrugged as Hatsume asked, “Did he sneak up on you? Drives me crazy when he does that. It’s ‘cause he’s barefoot all the damn time. So unsafe.”

Bakugou couldn’t stop himself, his eyes trailed down to Midoriya’s feet. He’d been barefoot when he went downstairs, but Bakugou had carried him up. “Do you use heavy machinery while barefoot?” he found himself asking.

Again, Midoriya shrugged.

“Is he just shrugging at you?” Mei asked.

“Uh, yeah,” replied Bakugou.

“Yeah, he’s pissed. Bake him a cake. Tell him you’re an asshole. Sincerely apologize.”

“Right, uh, thanks, Mei,” Bakugou responded, “I’ll do that.”

“Be patient with him please,” Hatsume answered, “Imagine how much he could do if he took care of himself.”

And Bakugou could. It wasn’t hard to imagine what amazing, world-changing, brilliant things Midoriya could do if he was healthy. And God, Katsuki wanted to see that.

“See ya, Mei.”

“Later, Blasty,” she said, ending the call from her end.

Bakugou dropped the phone from his ear, sliding it into his pocket. He stared at Midoriya. There was a lot to say. A lot to ask.

He started with: “I’m sorry.”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut, instead just sighing. He started to walk away, or at least towards the bookshelves.

“Izuku,” said Bakugou, “please, just, I know I don’t deserve to ask this but please listen.”

The green-haired man stopped. He didn’t turn around, but the slightest tilt of his head told Bakugou he was listening.

“I’m sorry.

“I’m sorry for calling you Deku. Not just today, but every fucking day I said it.

“I’m sorry for tormenting you. Hurting you—physically, emotionally, mentally.

“I’m sorry for thinking I was better.

“I’m sorry for fucking up your notebook.

“I’m sorry for turning everyone against you, for making everywhere you went into some fucked up battleground.

“I’m sorry I told you to take a swan dive off the roof of our school.

“And—“ Bakugou’s voice cracked, he wasn’t sure when tears had started but they left trails down his face and dripped off his chin, “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t come look for you after you disappeared.

“I was terrified.

“You were so much smarter than me. So much more determined. So much better. And I—

“Damn it, I—I thought about it all the time. Where the fuck you went after that monster attacked. You just fucking disappeared. I could have gone to your house. I could have come looked. But I was terrified that you had either finally figured out you really are better than me, or that you’d—“

Bakugou couldn’t see through his tears, his arms shook, snot ran from his nose, “I use to have nightmares about finding you on the pavement outside of school. I was terrified after you disappeared that you’d listened to me. That you’d actually gone and killed yourself and I was too much of a fucking coward to even go check to see if you were okay. I don’t—“

He couldn’t fucking breathe. His chest was heaving. His vision was blurring. Was he having a heart attack?

“You’re having a panic attack,” Midoriya stated calmly, as if reading his mind.

“Fucking what?” Bakugou asked.

“A panic attack,” Midoriya stated again, “You’re having one. You should sit down. Focus on breathing. It’ll pass. No one has ever died from a panic attack—even if it feels like you might.”

“This is—“ Bakugou choked out, his heart was racing, and his hands were shaking, “fucking horrible.”

Midoriya huffed a tiny laugh, “yup.”

Bakugou sat down as instructed, focused on his breathing like he’d been taught in anger management. He couldn’t be sure how long he’d sat there counting, but suddenly Midoriya was pressing a cold water bottle into his hands, gently guiding his hands and the bottle to his face. “Cool your face, then drink it,” he instructed, “Keep counting your breaths. It’s helpful.”

“This isn’t—you shouldn’t be—“

“She told you what really happened when I was 14,” Midoriya stated matter-of-factly.

Katsuki took in a deep shuddering breath, he couldn’t find a response.

“She doesn’t know you, um, said that,” Izuku explained, “or anything really. She’s knows we went to school together at one point and that I was bullied, but I never really filled in the connection. She’s smart so she probably knows you bullied me, but she can’t know all the little stuff.”

“Why are you--”

“Being nice?”

Bakugou heaved another gulp of air, he felt burning hot now.

“Drink the water,” instructed Izuku, “the adrenaline is wearing down but there’ll be after effects—like coming down after a fight.”

Bakugou understood that; he’d felt that. This was a thousand times worse, but he nodded his head anyway.

“Panic attacks suck,” Midoriya answered, “and you clearly haven’t had one before. I’m pissed but I’m not, I dunno, an asshole or whatever.”

Katsuki snorted, “I guess one of us needs to be a decent person.”

“Hey look, you said a whole sentence.”

Bakugou guffawed, then shuddered again.

“The bridge wasn’t just about you, y’know,” Izuku said, answering a question Bakugou would never have been brave enough to ask. “Things at home weren’t always great, with dad gone and mom being—well, she tries. School was awful that day, but I’d intended to just go home and do my homework like normal but along the way I met…”

“Who?”

“A hero. An important one. I asked him if I could be a hero without a quirk,” Midoriya paused. “He said no. Then the heroes after the slime monster yelled at me too for being reckless and I was so frustrated because it hadn’t been luck, I’d aimed for his eyes, but that didn’t matter.” He sighed, “I wandered a really long time that night, not really paying attention to where I was going, and then I realized I was on the bridge and I just… I was so damn tired. The idea of walking home, of dealing with another day was so overwhelming and no one would have noticed I was gone. I wouldn’t burden my mom anymore. It felt like everything would be better if I was at the bottom of the water.

“So I jumped.

“Incorrectly apparently,” Midoriya sighed, “and from a short bridge because all I managed to do was break my damn legs and get reeled in by some drunk college student with a water quirk.”

Bakugou couldn’t say anything. His breathing had stabilized some, but what was he supposed to say to that?

“The therapists convinced me to do the support program. I purposefully avoided UA though—not just because of you. That hero, the one who… they were there too.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, neither sure what to say next.

Finally, Bakugou broke the silence, “I’m sorry, Izuku.”

Midoriya didn’t respond immediately, but finally he quietly replied, “You always push anti-bullying ads and campaigns. You did that suicide prevention thing last year.”

Katsuki looked up at his companion, awed. “You saw those?”

“No matter how much I try to hate you, you’re always amazing, Kacchan. Yeah, I noticed. Hard not to with how much you push the campaigns. Most aggressive non-bullying ads I’ve ever seen,” Midoriya answered, a small smile curling his lip.

“I should have looked for you.”

“My therapists used to tell me you can only live in the current moment. The past and the future aren’t things you can control. I mean, it hasn’t helped me at all, but I’m sure it’s sound advice.”

Bakugou couldn’t help the snort, “Live in the moment, huh?”

“Can’t change the past. Can’t control the future. But right now, we can start fresh. Like adults. Or professionals.”

“Professionals wear shoes when they deal with heavy equipment.”

Midoriya’s smile widened, “But then how will I sneak up on you and get you to squeal like a girl?”

“Just lift your armpit,” Bakugou teased, “I’m sure the smell would be terrifying enough.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah… I am going to go shower, and get some sleep. I sorta broke the gauntlet in half and will have to start over and I can’t go another four days without sleep. Pretty sure I might be hallucinating already. Like, I think my middle school bully just cried in my living room?”

Bakugou leaned back onto the sofa, “Go take a shower, nerd. Surely a Nobel Prize winner can figure out how to use a bar of soap.”

Katsuki couldn’t help but be pleased by the small laugh he got out of Midoriya.

~~~~

Bakugou could still feel the vestiges of the adrenaline spike simmering in his system after his panic attack. He stayed planted on the sofa, eyes closed, listening to the sound of Midoriya shuffling around and then finally starting the shower. And thank God because that boy smelled like a triathlete’s crumpled up sock.

He couldn’t really say how long he sat there, simply absorbing the sounds around him and the sensation of… relief? He would always carry the blame of what Midoriya had done, how he’d felt, but somehow knowing that it hadn’t been entirely his fault was… “I’m such a fuckhead,” he groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands across his eyes.

Which hero? he wondered. He considered his teachers at UA, considered which one would be ‘important’ by Midoriya standards. All Might had been in the area that day, surely he hadn’t—

He needed to switch gears. Focus on now. Bakugou retrieved his phone from his pocket once more and pulled up his search browser. All he had to type in was “Midor” before the inventor’s name was suggested. His Wikipedia page was extensive, including links to inventions, his company, list of awards, charity and relief support, and a fan club page. Katsuki couldn’t help but smile and go to find the actual site for the club.

Damn, Midoriya was requested to speak at colleges and he had multiple honorary doctorate degrees? How in the hell was he not insanely famous? The more Bakugou read, the more he understood though. The man was reclusive, he didn’t do a lot of public events,—maybe one or two a year and they were in random countries. No doubt favors to friends or colleagues. His greatest fan base seemed to be overseas, mostly in Canada and Germany.

Bakugou clicked the link to an opinion article, looked like it’d been published in the NY Times originally and been translated for the fan site. It was an intriguing article, pointing out the irony of how “The Japanese Tesla” had been ignored in his own country because of the hero-obsessed culture. It was a harsh break down of the culture of the time, not just in Japan but nearly world-wide. Too much focus on the hero, not on the support behind them and the people who have to deal with the aftermath: police, hospital workers, clean up and construction crews, prison workers—the list went on.

He hated how right the article was.

“Hey Kacchan?”

Bakugou threw his phone into the air, fumbling to catch it, “Fucking hell ‘zuku!” The blond turned to glare at the sneak and stopped short. Midoriya was giving him an unimpressed expression, but that wasn’t what really caught Katsuki’s attention.

The green curls clung closer to his head, appearing long from the heavy weight of water that dripped down onto his tight, white, V-neck t-shirt that somehow managed to be modest and yet not because it was tight and wet and hello muscles, where have you been hiding? Bakugou found his eyes involuntarily drifting down to get a complete intake. Izuku had a pair of shorts that hung low on his hip and stopped just at the knee, revealing a perfect pair of calves. How do you maintain that without ever leaving the house or eating or—

Seemingly reading his mind, Midoriya hitched a thumb in the direction of the bookshelves, “I have an in-house gym.”

“Oh. Right,” Bakugou responded smartly.

“You can use it,” Midoriya continued, “if you want. You have pretty free range of the place so long as you’re staying. Except my bedroom. Or the lab. Or the shop. And don’t get my books out of order and it would probably be best if you didn’t use my computer and—“

“You’re rambling, ya’ damn nerd.”

Midoriya blinked at him, then laughed, “No one seems to be able to break me of that habit.”

Katsuki smiled slightly at that, but then frowned, “I was reading up on you.”

“Online?”

Katsuki nodded, “You have a fan club.”

Midoriya gave a soft chuckle, “They’re an interesting bunch.” He seemed to consider that for a moment, “But, it’s nice to have the support,” he added with a slight smile.

“Can I join it under my hero name?”

The inventor balked at that, hands waving in front of him in embarrassment, “What? Why would you—That isn’t—“

“Yes or no?”

“I mean, technically yes? But why—“

Bakugou hunkered down on the sofa again, phone in hand, “Cause I want to, obviously. Now go to bed, nerd.”

There was hesitation, then a quiet, “I’ll probably sleep between twelve and sixteen hours. Feel free to go do whatever, or have people over if you get bored.”

Bakugou peeked over the edge of the sofa, “I’m not leaving you unguarded while you sleep, dumbass.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “I do have an alarm system.”

“Is it on?”

“That is not the point.”

“Has it ever been on?”

“It’s a pain, alright,” Midoriya said with a huff, crossing his arms.

Bakugou shook his head and continued his fan club application, “You sure about me inviting people over?”

“I mean, I assume you have friends, a girlfriend.”

Katsuki hoped the heat on his face wasn’t showing as a blush, “I mean, some friends yes, but definitely no girlfriend.”

Midoriya sharpened his focus on him for a just a moment, “Boyfriend then, whatever.”

Bakugou sputtered from the sofa, blush darkening, “I don’t have—I’m not seeing any—“

“My point is, I’m pretty much here all the time, and if you’re set on ‘guarding’ me then they’ll have to come to you. Just don’t give them the code without asking first.”

“Right. Got it. Thanks.”

Midoriya smirked at him, “And do me a favor and put a sock on the door if you get up to anything too fun. I don’t want to walk in on your bare ass—“

Katsuki’s blush deepened to a deep red, spreading to his ears, “The fuck Izuku? I’m not— I’m a guest, I don’t—“

Izuku laughed, a genuine giggle and broad smile, “Oh my god, Kacchan! Calm your tits—“

“Calm my what?!”

“I’m just messing with you. Who knew Ground Zero of all people is so embarrassed by sex?”

A scowl settled on Bakugou’s face. “I am not embarrassed by sex,” he stated firmly.

“Keep telling yourself that; maybe it’ll become true one day,” Izuku said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Good night Kacchan. See ya’ when I return to the world of living.”

Katsuki grunted in response, scowl still firmly in place.

He was not embarrassed by sex.

~~~~

Kirishima let out a low whistle as he took in the living space above the warehouse, “Dudes, y’all have got to get up here,” he called to the others trailing up behind him.

“Maybe if you’d helped us carry all this junk!” Kaminari grumbled as he too emerged into the studio.

“Move it you losers!” Bakugou growled from the base of the stairs, “Did it really take all four of you to pick up fucking groceries? And I don’t remember asking for a case of fucking beer!”

Ashido pushed past the two men at the top of the stairs, “Damn. This place is screaming for a party.”

“Not sure the landlord would like that,” Sero advised, joining the growing crowd and pushing past to drop some bags off on the bar.

“Everyone wanted to see where you’re staying now, bro,” Kirishima called, answering Bakugou’s previous gripe. The four guests dropped the various groceries and other items Bakugou had asked Kirishima to pick up for him down on the bar where Sero had started the pile. They spread out in the wide living area to explore the space further.

“So, did he just, like, buy a room out of a magazine or what?” asked Ashido, making Kaminari and Sero laugh.

“Keep it down,” Bakugou demanded as he too emerged into the living space, “Nerd’s asleep.”

“It’s like eight at night, who goes to bed that early?” asked Kaminari.

“He’s been asleep since like, I dunno, eleven or something this morning?” Bakugou explained, placing the cold case of beer Kirishima had unceremoniously shoved into his arms at the door onto the bar alongside everything else. “He hadn’t slept for days before I got here,” he added as he made his way to the kitchen to begin sorting through the bags.

“Guess he was pretty spooked,” commented Kirishima, who’d heard a little about Bakugou’s assignment from Fat Gum, “Support programs don’t really train you for confrontations with villains after all.”

“That’d make too much damn sense,” Bakugou grouched, “The idiot was working on a project or something. Apparently he forgets to do stuff when he’s working.”

“He forgets to sleep?” asked Sero.

“Sounds a lot like a pink haired demon I know,” said Kirishima.

“Guys, can we focus on this insane apartment? I didn’t realized support paid so much,” Kaminari remarked.

“Pretty sure that’s only true if you’re good at it,” Sero answered, “like Mei.”

Bakugou couldn’t hold back the scoff, “Izuku’s better than Mei.” Given that he was shoving groceries into the fridge, he didn’t witness the exchange of glances and quirked eyebrows among his friends.

“Izuku, huh?” said Kaminari.

“Already on a first name basis?” asked Sero.

“Shut it, Pikachu! Soy Sauce face!” Bakugou growled, “I’ve known him since we were kids. Just sorta lost touch after middle school.”

“Really?” laughed Ashido, “Small world!”

“Wait,” said Kirishima, head popping out from behind the bookshelves (he’d been exploring the gym, no one could accuse him of checking out the books), “Is this the Izuku? The quirkless kid you talked about?”

Bakugou hesitated, but finally confirmed with a stiff nod, “Yeah, Midoriya Izuku.”

The other four all made some form of grunt or huh or hum as they considered that fact. Kirishima was the only one that knew the full extent, but Katsuki had admitted his bully behavior when they were back in high school.

Ever the brave one, Kaminari risked the question, “And is he, uh, cool with—“

“We talked,” Bakugou said, “I apologized. He---“ Bakugou let out a sigh, “Honestly, he’s a mess. I’d like to help him, maybe make up for being such a fuckhead when we were kids.”

His friends were quiet for a moment, but Ashido broke it by clapping her hands together near her cheek and cooing, “Awww, our little volcano is growing up.”

“Shut it, Raccoon Eyes!”

“So manly,” Kirishima added, wiping away a fake tear.

“Fuck you, Shitty Hair! I’ll kill you!”

This of course just earned him a playful glare and snide comment from Ashido, “Quiet now, Bakugou. Your nerd is asleep.”

Bakugou scowled, one hand held up to release tiny explosions along his palm while he pointed a carrot at her threateningly with his other hand, “Should have killed you back in high school!” The others just laughed, his threats had lost any effect they may have had years ago.

The group of guests eventually settled in, mostly seating themselves at the bar or on the leather sofas. Bakugou had promised to cook in exchange for the red-head running his remaining errands and no one in their right mind turned down a home cooked meal from Bakugou Katsuki. While Bakugou did grouch about cooking for so many extras, he was glad to have their company.

They chit-chatted about their work, life at their various agencies, recent changes in rankings, and so forth. It wasn’t very often the five of them were all in a room together, especially on short notice, unless there was some larger event occurring. The time slipped away, filled with nostalgic stories, cold beer, and good food.

Now it was nearing one in the morning and the heroes remained lounging on the sofas, their beer buzz having mostly worn off. Somehow Ashido and Kirishima had gotten onto the topic of whether or not water was wet. Sero and Kaminari both cheerleading for one side or the other.

Bakugou was too tired and frankly too amused to do much more than listen to them argue.

“You have to be covered in water to be wet, so the water itself is dry,” Ashido repeated, as if stating it for the fourth time would change Kirishima’s mind. “Yeah!” Kaminari added helpfully, “Water can’t surround itself—it’s like a big blob thing.”

The red head rolled his eyes, “But water is always covered in water! It’s all just a bunch of molecules surrounding themselves!” Beside him, Sero nodded sagely in agreement.

“Actually,” interrupted Midoriya and just like that, five half-asleep pro heroes were wide awake, on their feet, fists raised for a fight. Midoriya didn’t so much as flinch, just continued his trip to the fridge, “on a molecular level the particles are moving so fast that water, as understood by current science, is technically dry and wet at the same time.”

“Where the hell did he come from?” squeaked Kaminari.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna’ put a fucking bell on you,” Bakugou threatened.

Midoriya chuckled as he emerged from the fridge holding two of the oranges the others had brought with them. “Don’t be silly, Kacchan,” he said with a closed smile and a tilt of his head, “Jewelry isn’t safe to wear in the workshop, it could get caught in the machinery.”

“Did he just say Kacchan?” Sero asked. The nearby red head only nodded but Ashido shushed them both, focusing her attention on the exchange.

“Now you give a shit about work place safety!?” Bakugou scoffed, “You were literally working down there this morning in your nasty sweats, with no sleep, and no shoes on.”

“My feet aren’t near the machines, Kacchan,” replied the scientist as he began rolling his unpeeled oranges across the counter top, squishing them and rotating them along the surface of the counter.

“Are you so used to eating that frozen shit you forgot how to peel a fucking orange?”

Midoriya rolled his eyes again, lifting an orange from the counter and deftly ripping through the rind. The orange slipped out smoothly in one large piece. “I was breaking the pith apart to save time, Kacchan.”

“He is a genius,” Ashido commented.

Midoriya shot her a broad, toothy smile, eyes practically sparkling, “Why thank you! But I read that particular tip on the internet, can’t claim it among my own discoveries. Though I think if I had, I might consider it my greatest work.”

Ashido gave her own signature smile, “I’m sure you’ll discover something equally amazing.”

“I certainly hope so,” Midoriya answered before biting into the orange like it was an apple.

“The actual fuck did you just do?” asked Katsuki.

“Oh my god!” Kirishima laughed, clutching his belly with one hand and pointing at Bakugou with his other, “Look at Blasty’s face!”

Kaminari gave an undignified snort, “He looks like someone slapped his grandmother!” Sero and Ashido took one glance and burst into their own fit of giggles.

“Shut the fuck up, you losers!”

“Go die!” Ashido yelled, impersonating Bakugou to her best ability and sending the boys into another round of laughter.

Midoriya left the kitchen, moving closer to the cluster of friends. Katsuki watched as he moved silently without any hint of effort. His steps were oddly graceful, reminiscent of a cat stalking its prey.

Midoriya leaned over the back of the sofa, “Chargebolt, right?”

The four unsuspecting heroes screamed, each sputtering their own version of ‘How the fuck did he get so close all of a sudden?!”

Midoriya waited patiently for them to finish, lazily taking a bite from his orange much to Bakugou’s continued annoyance.

When Kaminari didn’t answer Midoriya’s inquiry, Bakugou gave a gruff, “Yeah, that’s Chargebolt.”

The electric blond pointed a finger to himself, “Kaminari Denki,” he introduced, “but yeah, I’m Chargebolt.”

Midoriya swallowed his mouthful of orange and leveled a focused gaze on the electric blonde. “How do you like the new kinetic charging system?” he asked, “Is it performing as promised?”

“Oh! It’s great, I basically have a power pack on me at all times and I—“ he was cut off by Ashido slapping a hand over his mouth.

“How do you know about his gear? That information is classified and only disclosed to his team at our agency and our support tech agency,” Ashido questioned.

Midoriya shrugged and gave a sly smile, “But your support agency was struggling with finding a way to keep a constant source of energy that was stable and could be replenished quickly during a fight. They’d been toying with the kinetic system for a while but couldn’t get it to do what they needed.”

“So… you don’t work for their support agency,” Sero clarified, “You just admitted that, right?”

“I’m freelance,” Midoriya answered, “I don’t work for any agency, technically. I do a lot of consulting work and I develop a lot of tech that goes into components of hero gear.”

Kaminari pulled Ashido’s hand from his mouth, “You made my new gear?”

“Not all of it,” Midoriya said, standing up straight, “Just the part that actually works.”

Katsuki gave a slight cough and gestured to Midoriya, “Meet the guy who invented the Quirk Suppression Implant.”

“Whoa,” said the other four.

Midoriya took another bite out of the orange and gave another little shrug, as if to say it wasn’t anything to be impressed by. The others seemed to be formulating questions but didn’t appear to know where to start. The scientist swallowed down the orange in his mouth and stretched out his arms, raising them high above his head as he simultaneously stretched out on his toes, allowing his calves to flex. “I’m gonna head back downstairs and get restarted on that project,” he said, letting his arms drop casually to his side, “I should have all the materials to finish the prototype. I think I can get it done today.” He didn’t wait for a response before he began to move towards the stairs.

“I’ll bring you some food later,” Bakugou informed him.

“Don’t bother,” Midoriya answered, not looking up, “I just ate and I’ve got a second orange for later.” He pulled the uneaten orange from his short’s pocket and held it up slightly. He stopped at the top of the stairs and finally looked at Bakugou properly, “I’ve showered, I’ve slept, I’ve eaten, and now I’ve talked to people. All the things on your checklist, right?”

“Those aren’t one-time items, Izuku,” said Katsuki.

“Kacchan,” Midoriya replied, a hint of irritation behind his friendly tone, “I’ve been working on these specs for months and I was nearly half-way through primary construction when I broke it. I want to get this done today so I can send it off for some testing. I’ll get back into a normal, ‘healthy’ routine after.”

Bakugou didn’t say anything, but his disbelieving look and raised eyebrow was enough to know he was calling bullshit.

“Please don’t interrupt my work today?”

“I’ll bring you lunch, you need to take at least one break.”

Midoriya contemplated this, sighed, and gave a single nod. Then he made his way downstairs.

For a moment, no one said anything. Finally, Kirishima asked, “So that’s the guy who caught Overhaul?”

“Or at least made it possible,” Bakugou answered.

The others considered that with a hum. Then Kaminari and Ashido made eye contact and suddenly their thoughts had veered. “Is it just me,” Kaminari started, Ashido finished, “or is that guy hot?”

“So I’m not the only one that had a slight gay crisis when he stretched?” Sero asked with a laugh.

Kaminari smiled, “Dear lord those eyes.”

“That is one seriously sexy scientist,” Ashido added, fanning herself with her hand, “that V! And that scruff on his face,” she finished with a growl.

“But did you see his calves?” asked Kaminari.

“Dudes,” Sero said seriously, getting the attention of the other three, “can you imagine what his hair is like after he’s—“

“Hey!” Bakugou shouted alongside a chain of pops along his palm. The others jumped and looked at Bakugou, only somewhat sheepishly. The explosive hero smiled crookedly, “You losers wanna join his official fan club?”

The next hour was spent with them crowded around the desktop in Bakugou’s new bedroom, registering each of them under their hero name.

Chapter 4: Day 3

Notes:

My copy and pasting skills are clearly lacking. I wrote this on a word doc and things got a little out of order. Thank you for your patience while I correct stuff. :)

Bakugou woke up around noon; he hadn’t slept that well in ages. Still tucked under the blankets, he stretched his limbs and yawned. This place was insanely quiet, especially for the warehouse district. Hell, he couldn’t even hear the nerd at work downstairs.

That thought startled him out of bed, “Shit!” Had something happened while he was asleep? This place was too big to keep an eye on Izuku all the time and it clearly had sound dampening put in.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Katsuki repeated to himself as he rushed out of his room and towards the stairs.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki already had a foot down the first step, but he whirled around at the sound causing him to nearly lose his balance. Izuku was standing near the hall entrance, an old notebook in his hand, head tilted the way he did when he saw something perplexing or intriguing. He was still in that stupid white t-shirt and shorts combo, still barefoot. Now though, the shirt seemed to have a bit of sweat built around the collar, his curls hung a little heavier, there was an ashy substance wiped across his face and smudged along the stomach of his shirt.

Katsuki was staring. He wasn’t speaking but instead just staring at the nerd, his brain repeating the mantra he’s okay, he’s safe, he’s right there, he’s okay, he’s safe, he’s right there.

“Is everything okay?” asked Midoriya.

Only then did Katsuki realize just how fast his heart was pounding. He took a deep breath and brought himself off the stairway, stepping fully into the living space. “Yeah,” he said, “I just, I couldn’t, uh—“ He couldn’t seem to spit it out, an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks and then Izuku tilted his head the other way like some lost puppy, big green eyes looking at him with worry.

“Couldn’t what?”

“Hear you.”

“Hear me?” Midoriya repeated, and then his face lit up with realization. For a moment he looked so much like his younger self that Katsuki couldn’t stop the tiny gasp that pulled over his lips. “Of course, I didn’t even think about that. When they remodeled this place for me the company put a bunch of padding and stuff between the floors so that sound wouldn’t travel. There’s a thing on the stairwell too, I think it’s a pretty standard piece of equipment in construction warehouses these days? I don’t know to be honest, I didn’t ask for any of it. I guess they assumed that there’d be other people here? Probably yet another sign I gave them way too high a budget,” he prattled with a nervous laugh.

“I’m surprised you’re up here,” Katsuki said, cutting him off from his rambling.

“Ah, the gauntlet is in a setting stage. I have to keep my hands off for another thirty minutes or so,” Midoriya scratched at the side of his head a bit, a nervous tick no doubt, shifting his gaze away, “I tried to get this stage as close to lunch time as I could.”

“You stopped for lunch?”

“You, um, you did say…”

Katsuki smiled, he couldn’t help himself, “You should have woken me up.”

“Oh, no!” Midoriya said, nervously waving his hands, and in turn the notebook, in front of himself, “I just decided to look through some old notes, it’s not a big deal. This part has to be done one way or another so—“

“Why don’t you wash up a bit,” Katsuki interrupted, “you can help me make something.”

Midoriya blinked at him, “I know absolutely nothing about cooking.”

Bakugou guffawed, “As if that wasn’t fucking obvious. I found your rice cooker still in its damn box last night.”

“I have a rice cooker?” Midoriya asked, embarrassment easy to read on his features.

The blond hid his scoff behind a crooked smile. “I’ll teach you. It’s not fucking hard,” said Bakugou, “That way you don’t starve to death after all this is over.”

“You think I’d take the time to cook, even if I knew how?”

“Just go wash your damn hands!” Bakugou growled, stomping towards the kitchen to begin preparing. He figured a simple rice and veggie dish would suffice for lunch.

Midoriya, for his part, did in fact go put back the notebook and then wash his hands in the bathroom. He returned to the kitchen where Bakugou had begun laying out tools and ingredients.

“Wash those,” the blond instructed with a gesture to the veggies he’d set out. That first command seemed to set the pace. Bakugou gave short, direct instructions which Midoriya followed. He was given simple tasks: wash, peel, cut; Bakugou handled prepping a sauce of some sort, opening some of the spices his friends had delivered the day before.

“Spicy okay?” Bakugou asked, never really looking up from his work.

“Yeah, I still eat spicy stuff. I think Mei just about died once when she stole something off my plate at a restaurant.”

Bakugou chortled, glancing at Midoriya and then spotting the chopped vegetables. “You are truly terrible at that.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya agreed with a grimace, “they’re all uneven.”

“You’re moving too slowly,” said Bakugou.

“I don’t think going faster would make me more precise?”

The blond rolled his eyes, and then stepped behind Midoriya. He reached his arms around the other man, placing his hand over Izuku’s on the knife and placing his chin over Izuku’s shoulder.

“What are you—“

“Shut up and pay attention,” Bakugou growled, “Stiffen your wrist, and use your arm to chop — like this.”

“Oh,” Midoriya sighed, “That’s actually way easier.”

“Let the knife do the work,” Bakugou instructed, “and watch your fingers.” He placed his other hand over Midoriya’s, pushing his fingers into the correct form, “Don’t want to slice these off. Probably be bad for your work.”

“Definitely bad for work,” replied Midoriya, a smile evident in his voice.

Bakugou completed cutting through the vegetable but didn’t immediately let go. If anything, his grip tightened ever so slightly as he realized their proximity. Quickly he released Izuku and went back to his own prep area. He could feel Midoriya’s eyes on him and hoped the heat in his face wasn’t showing.

“Keep cutting, nerd,” Bakugou groused, eyes on his own work.

Midoriya, despite himself, kept quiet and returned to his chopping.

The meal, though simple, turned out successfully. The two men sat near each other at the bar, quietly eating their concoction.

“This is really good,” Midoriya said around a mouthful of rice.

“Of course it is,” said Bakugou, “and don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Midoriya swallowed his food and beamed at the other man, a full and genuine smile that reached his eyes directed at Bakugou, “Thank you for the meal!”

The pink tinge from early seemed to reappear on Bakugou’s cheeks; he glared at his food, “It’s just rice and veggies, nerd.”

The scientist hummed thoughtfully, but continued his meal. Then, as if he couldn’t stand the silence for more than a few minutes, he spoke around another mouthful of food, “What do you do when you aren’t heroing?”

“What?”

“I just, I kind of wondered,” Midoriya picked at his food a bit, “I’m about to have more free time and you don’t seem the type to stay inside for two months straight, so what do you do for fun or to relax or whatever?”

“Oh,” Bakugou said dumbly, “I mostly just work out or hang with the losers. We’re all pretty busy though, haven’t all hung out like that in a long time.”

“What else?”

“Why do you—“

“You’ve pretty much seen how I live, everything I’ve been up to since middle school,” said Midoriya, “I’m just…curious.”

The answer didn’t come straight away. Instead Bakugou worked through several more bites of food. Finally the hero answered, “I like to cook, obviously. Spend a lot of time out at the gym. There’s a coffee shop that was close to my place before, I’d go there and read and stuff. Mostly when I went out it was with Kirishima or someone.”

“I think there’s a coffee place not horribly far from here,” said Midoriya, “And on week days there are a lot of food trucks around lunch time. I usually eat from them whenever I’m not on a project.” He hesitated before adding on, “I know you’re sorta stuck with me and my schedule. You have nice friends, probably start to feel cabin fever if you—“

“You’re muttering, nerd,” Bakugou said, but when Midoriya snapped his eyes up it was to find a smile on the other man’s face. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around. Besides, you’ll be more secure here. You said you’re cool with people I trust coming over like last night, right?”

Midoriya gave him a nod.

“Then it’s fine.”

“But what if—“

Bakugou lifted a hand, signaling the scientist to stop, “I’ll say something, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Your thing should be set by now, right?” Bakugou asked, “And you’ve almost cleaned your plate.”

Midoriya looked down to see that Bakugou was right. Did he really eat all of that? He stood up, “I’m going to head back down. I won’t come up again ‘till it’s done. It’ll be a while.”

“Will it bother you if I come down there and read or something?” asked Bakugou, “I can’t hear you up here and if there’s a threat I need to know.”

“It’s really loud down there,” Midoriya said, “but you can use the sound mufflers, should be a pair on my desk.”

“What about you?”

Midoriya rolled his eyes, “I have more than one set.”

“Get to work, I’ll be down there after I clean up.”

And there was that damn smile again: wide, bright, and directed right at him. “Thanks!” Midoriya chimed before disappearing down the stairs.

~~~~

Bakugou made himself comfortable at Midoriya’s desk down in the warehouse. He’d cleaned up the kitchen, located a book about the physics and chemistry of explosives out on the main shelves, and then wandered downstairs.

He wasn’t even sure if Midoriya knew someone had joined him. The scientist was far too focused on whatever he was working on. He had the gauntlet in front of him under some heavy lights and a big magnifying lamp. It was clearly intricate work, though quiet.

Over the course of the next six hours though, Midoriya had wandered from table to table, machine to machine. Bakugou learned quickly to watch him carefully. He moved silently, so if the hero wasn’t paying attention he’d find his ears ringing from the sudden noise of a new machine at work. For all his apparent lack of safety gear, the nerd did put in earplugs or pop on safety goggles when needed. There was even a pair of thick, laceless boots he saw Midoriya stick his feet into whenever there was reason enough.

Katsuki was damn near done with the book he’d picked up, his ass was numb from sitting around too much, and his stomach growled at him. Midoriya showed no signs of stopping. The hero wanted to pull him away again, but the scientist had more than kept up with his end of the negotiations concerning self-care.

He dragged himself upstairs and listened carefully for the continued hum of machinery downstairs. The noise was dampened but evident if he tuned into it. He made himself a sandwich, returned the book to its place, and grabbed a heavy pair of dumbbells. Weights and nourishment in hand, he headed back down stairs.

He couldn’t have been gone for more than fifteen minutes, Izuku’s work echoing its way throughout the warehouse the entire time. It can be forgiven then, that he was slightly surprised to find Toga Himiko seated in the office chair—now dragged closer to Izuku’s work area.

He dropped everything immediately, small explosions already sparking his palm as he stepped forward in preparation to launch himself forward. The villainess had her back turned to him, but upon hearing the hero quickly spun in the chair, rolling from the seat to squat into a more defensible position.

Ground Zero moved in closer, “Got some nerve showing up here, bitch!” He took an explosive swing at the woman, who’d pulled a knife and was preparing to launch an attack of her own.

Neither of their hits landed, both quickly changing the trajectory of their assaults as Izuku stepped between them.

“Fuck!” yelled the hero, adjusting his blast to miss the scientist just as Toga let out an impish, “Whoopsie!” and pulled her weight back so that the blade of her knife only grazed Izuku’s clothing. There was a sudden halting of all movement as Ground Zero and Toga looked to get at each other without hitting the green haired man.

“Move Izuku!” Ground Zero commanded.

The blonde woman giggled, “’Zuku, baby! You gotta move, I wanna taste hero!”

Izuku wasn’t budging. Instead he gave the hero and villain a heavy glare each, “I have been working on this project for an eternity and if either of you cause me to start over again I swear I will kick your asses so hard that your grandchildren will have bruises.”

Ground Zero sputtered, “The fuck did you just say?” as the villainess clutched her blade like an old friend and leaned forward in a fit of laughter.

“Are you fucking protecting her?” the hero questioned, explosions popping in his palm, re-assessing whether the inventor was truly trustworthy.

Izuku rolled his eyes and sighed, “By all means arrest her, just take it outside. This equipment is expensive and I don’t want to have to reorder parts for this project and restart. Again. ”

“You wouldn’t let him arrest me, would you Zuku, baby?” the woman asked, a forced pout on her lips, “How could I visit you then?”

Izuku fixed a dead stare on her, “I can think of no greater joy than never having you visit me again.”

This caused her to giggle again, holding the knife up so that the flat back of it pressed into her cheek, “You’re so funny, Zuku, baby!”

“Fuck your project!” Ground Zero screamed, explosions launching him forward so that he tackled his blonde opponent to the ground.

She didn’t go down without a fight. It was a close proximity fight, and while Katsuki didn’t give a shit if Izuku’s project was blown to bits he did care if any of the highly volatile equipment that could be around caught fire. He had to keep is explosions relatively small which made it easier for the woman to dance and squirm away from him. He quickly earned a few cuts, but she hadn’t managed to do more than superficial damage.

Amidst his struggle with the quick footed woman, he vaguely recalled Izuku sighing and muttering a ‘god damn it’ before silently padding away. He returned shortly after, a small box in his hand.

“Toga! Catch!” yelled Izuku. The call distracted Toga enough to allow Katsuki to get out of range from what could have been a particularly bad swipe of the knife. The villainess turned her attention to Izuku just enough to catch what he threw. Both Toga and Katsuki took a second to identify that it was an orange in her hand. Katsuki wasn’t completely certain what happened at that point, because one second they’re distracted by the orange and the next Toga is a twitching, drooling mess on the floor.

“Here,” Izuku said and the hero looked up just in time to catch the pair of quick suppression hand cuffs being tossed his way. In his other hand, Izuku was holding something that looked familiar but Katsuki couldn’t quite place where he’d seen the device.

The inventor shrugged, “It’s a mockup for Chargebolt, ended up going with something else.”

“Right,” Katsuki said with a nod, before stooping down to cuff their would-be assailant. Guest? Assailant. “Does your friend here visit often?”

“No more than any of the others,” Izuku said with a shrug before padding back over to his work station as if nothing had just happened. As if they had not just captured Toga fucking Himiko. There was so much to unpack. Katsuki chose instead to focus on what was in front of him. He pulled his phone out and made the call.

Over the course of the next several hours, Katsuki dealt with police, EMS, Hero Commission representatives, and a metric ass ton of paperwork. He felt an odd sense of relief that the media was not present, though it would have boosted his rank tremendously to have wide public knowledge of capturing a League member more or less on his own.

Through it all, Izuku kept working. He stopped only long enough to give a brief statement to the officers, “Ground Zero stepped away for approximately ten or fifteen minutes to grab dinner from upstairs. I refused to stop to go with him. Toga arrived shortly after, I’m not sure how she got in though I presume by portal. She was offering a position in the League. I declined. Ground Zero returned. Now I have to replace two of my tables—that welder is gonna’ cost me a fortune. Not to mention the six prototype boxes they destroyed. Where was I? Oh, right, utilizing one of the mockups for another hero, Ground Zero was able to detain her with minimum injury or damage. He said I tazed her? Don’t be silly. I just got it out. He’s the hero. Can I go back to work now?”

He’d also briefly stopped to talk to the Commission representative. “So this means the threat is apprehended, right? No more PTSD dog babysitter hero? Why not? Oh come on! What, do we have to catch them all for me to be able to make my own decisions? Seriously? Get out of my workshop!”

Aside from those two short ‘breaks’ the scientist had continued his work as Ground Zero handled the comings and goings of the arrest.

Now it was nearing three in the morning. Bakugou was dead tired but refused to go to bed until Izuku finished his work. He had a lot of questions. Questions he’d tried asking once the space had cleared but the inventor had waved the hero away and said to quit distracting him.

At 3:23 in the morning, Katsuki watched as Izuku set aside the cloth he’d been using to wipe down the gauntlet. He turned the product over in his hand, checking over several seams and facets, and then smiled.

Quietly, Bakugou watched as the green haired man placed the gauntlet in a safe installed not far from the stair case, locking it up before he sent it off for testing. As the latch secured in place, he let out a deep breath, “finally,” he assured himself.

“Done?”

Izuku nodded at him, “You didn’t have to stay up with me.”

“You were attacked tonight.”

“No I wasn’t.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, “Hah? That must have been a girl scout we took out earlier, then.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “She didn’t attack me. They never do—well, not anymore.”

Where to start with that? Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “I need you to answer some questions,” said Bakugou, “and I need you to be honest. Don’t try to sugar coat it or put a spin on it or whatever—I heard you giving me all the credit early, by the way. Shit pisses me off.”

“What do you want to know, Kacchan?”

“How often do you get these… visits from the League?”

Izuku shrugged, “Once every couple of weeks or so? Just depends. The busier they are the less I see of them.”

“You said they don’t attack you anymore, so they did in the past?”

“I mean, yeah,” Izuku answered, scratching the back of his neck, “I think I mentioned before that I’m more useful to them alive? And it’s not like I’m completely defenseless.”

“Was Toga really here to recruit?”

“Yeah. She clearly had no idea that I’d been given a guard dog or whatever, she was acting like she always does—annoying.”

Katsuki hesitated for a moment, “You clearly can defend yourself. That fight would have gone on for a lot longer if you hadn’t pulled out that weapon. Why haven’t you—“

“Captured them before?”

“Yeah.”

Izuku frowned and furrowed his brow, clearly trying to pin down the right way to answer. “I used to call it in. When they first started all this, trying to get me to help release their Sensei. It was stifling—constantly trying to clean up after fights and deal with paperwork and—“ He stopped abruptly, snapping his jaw shut tight.

“And?”

Big green eyes peeked over at Katsuki, “Every time I provided assistance, they considered it a regression of my mental state. I was tired of therapy.”

Bakugou let that idea sink in for a moment before trying to respond. Izuku beat him to it though, “I realize how ridiculous that sounds. Not calling in a League recruitment or threat because I didn’t want to go to therapy but it’s just so, so, frustrating to be told that defending yourself is a sign of mental illness and it was all slowing down my work and costing me a fortune to replace my equipment constantly.” He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed at his neck again, “So when Handjob showed up ‘just to talk’ and give me an offer I was so tired that I just let him talk. And then he left and no one noticed, no one cared, no one got hurt, nothing got destroyed. It was so much easier to just let them come yammer at me.”

Katsuki asked the only question left racing in his mind, “Did you just call Shigaraki Handjob?”

Izuku gave an impish little grin, “He’s not particularly fond of that nickname.”

The two fell into a fit of laughter, allowing the tension in the room to clear, the heavy implications of all Izuku had said to stand aside for a moment. It took several minutes for their laughter to trickle off.

“We should go to bed,” Izuku stated, a yawn escaping him, “I’ll need to be up by two if I want to get that to Mei’s shop for testing.”

“Alright, nerd,” Bakugou agreed, standing from where he’d been waiting all night. “Then we can get you in a normal, healthy routine.”

“PTSD dog.”

“I’m not a fucking dog!” Bakugou yelled, reaching a hand out to ferociously ruffle the other man’s green mop of hair.

“No, Kacchan!” Izuku laughed, darting away and towards the stairs, “I’m supposed to pet you!”

Bakugou felt his eye twitch, “You little shit!” he yelled, giving chase as the green haired man retreated hastily up the stairs. Izuku scurried upward, laughing the whole way, “Bad dog!” he yelled back at the blond.

Katsuki caught up with him at the top of the stairs, grabbing Izuku in a loose choke hold and rubbing a knuckle into the top of his head, “Who the fuck you calling a bad dog, you shitty nerd!”

Izuku easily wriggled free of his hold, “So you admit you are a dog though?” he asked through his laughter. Bakugou couldn’t help his own grin in response to the wide smile on Izuku’s face. Instinctively, he reached forward and grabbed Izuku’s arm as the man attempted to retreat again. The force, though not great, was enough to pivot Izuku so that he was turned to face Katsuki but also caused him to lose his balance, falling backward. Naturally, he clutched at the closest thing to him: Katsuki’s arm.

This is how Katsuki found himself on the floor, pressed chest to hip against Izuku, the other’s thigh pressed between his legs, and his nose buried in the crook of Izuku’s neck. It took a moment to fully register what had happened, and then Izuku gently cleared his throat, “You going to just sleep here?”

A deep blush forming on his face, Bakugou sat back as quickly as possible so that he was on his knees in front of Izuku, who propped himself up on his elbows but otherwise remained sprawled out on the floor. “Sorry,” Bakugou said, averting his eyes, “didn’t mean to make you fall.”

Izuku hummed in response. Katsuki had no idea what that indicated.

“Right,” Bakugou said, pushing himself back up so that he was standing. He offered Izuku a hand, “we should head to the bed.” Bakugou could feel his blush deepen ever so slightly, “To bed. Our separate beds. To sleep, that is.”

Izuku grabbed his hand and let himself be pulled up. For a moment, Katsuki thought the green haired man was going to let his slip up pass by, but then Izuku shot him that impish grin, “Some people don’t let their dogs sleep in the bed, Kacchan. But I think it would be okay for you to curl up in bed with me.”

If Bakugou was blushing before, he was on fire now. He sputtered for a moment before going to his default. “That isn’t--! I didn’t--! I’m not a fucking dog!”

“Then you’ll just have to sleep in your own bed,” Izuku replied smoothly, “Only good dogs get to come to bed with me!” And as if just to pour salt in the wound, he reached up and patted Katsuki’s head, “Good night, Kacchan!”

By the time Bakugou could fathom a response, Izuku was already down the hall. “G’night, Izuku,” he said, hopefully loud enough for the other to hear.

Chapter 5: Day 4

Katsuki set an alarm for 10 am, hoping to slowly get himself back on a regular schedule (and in turn force his charge onto a normal sleep schedule as well). After a few choice words, a yawn, and a sleepy shuffle to the desk, he turned off the alarm ringing out from his cell phone.

He made his way to the bathroom, bleary eyed and still half-asleep, but somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the slight clink, clink, clink emanating from the living area. After finishing his business in the bathroom, slightly more attune to both his surroundings and his hunger, he recognized the sound.

The hero supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to find the nerd already awake and, for some god forsaken reason, doing squats with easily a hundred extra pounds strapped on the barbell.

“You always throw that kind of weight around without a spot?” asked Bakugou.

Izuku never stopped his exercise, but did smile at the hero, “Morning!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bakugou replied with an eye roll. “You eat any kind of breakfast?”

Izuku waited until he was standing upright again before answering with an airy, “Nah.” Then he gracefully fell into another squat. He had surprisingly good form and Bakugou had a hunch that he wasn’t anywhere near his actual max weight for lifting.

“High protein brunch it is,” Bakugou said with a smirk.

And simple as that, the two fell into an odd, companionable silence. Bakugou made them a meal, which Izuku ate without complaint. Then the scientist returned to his small, in-home gym to run on the treadmill. Katsuki took the opportunity to do some weight training of his own, given that it had been several days since he’d really done anything in his normal routine. After what turned out to be an energizing workout, Bakugou showered in the large bathroom and Izuku confirmed the hero’s sneaking suspicion that his master bedroom had a small secondary bathroom attached, allowing the inventor to shower at the same time.

Near one in the afternoon, Ground Zero emerged from his bedroom in full hero gear, prepared to escort Midoriya on their first outing since his arrival. The hero knew he’d only been there a couple days, but it already felt like an eternity since he’d been outdoors. How in the hell the nerd stayed inside one building, possibly one room, for weeks at time was beyond his understanding.

Midoriya emerged from his bedroom with his hair still slightly damp, but his face was clean shaven. He was wearing a pair of black jeans that hugged his frame without hindering his movement, a t-shirt labeled “Safety Gear,” and an unbuttoned, red flannel shirt layered on top. He was rolling the sleeves up to expose his forearms, as he made his way past Bakugou, carrying a rolled up pair of socks in his mouth.

There were a lot of witty things Bakugou could have said, something to do with the scientist’s muttering or lying or literally anything other than, “Decide to gag yourself for me?”

The hero clamped his mouth shut and prayed Izuku would ignore his idiotic comment. For a moment, Bakugou thought Izuku was going to let it slide. The scientist sank down onto the sofa, blessedly silent, and finished fixing his sleeves.

Katsuki knew Izuku wasn’t going to let it slide-by after all when the scientist turned and tilted his head just enough to fix his playful, knowing eyes on Bakugou. Deftly, the inventor lifted his lithe fingers up to extract the rolled socks from between his lips only to smirk at the hero. For the life of him, Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from Izuku, couldn’t open his mouth to interrupt whatever ridiculous thing the green haired man was about to say.

“Generally speaking,” Izuku said, somehow sounding casual yet calculated at the same time, “I believe muzzles are used on bad dogs, but Katsuki’s been a very good dog since arriving so I don’t think we’ll need to get the gag.”

Get the gag? Not a gag? Bakugou couldn’t help but think as he felt his face and ears heat up. He could only hope his mask kept it from being too obvious. He should be upset at being called a dog again but for some reason his brain seemed stuck on Katsuki’s been very good and the gag.

“Right, Katsuki?”

Why did his name sound so nice coming from Izuku? Shit, Izuku asked him something. What did he ask? Bakugou continued to stare at the scientist, unsure of what he was expected to say.

“Answer me, Katsuki,” said Izuku, voice firm but kind, a crooked smile still gracing his lips, “You’ve been good, haven’t you?”

Bakugou gave a short, uneven nod before he’d even realized what he was doing, somehow hypnotized by Midoriya’s words.

“We don’t need the gag. Do we, Katsuki?”

The twitch in his pants snapped him back to reality, causing Bakugou to revert to his go-to emotion: anger. He contorted his face into his signature scowl and shouted, “Of course not you fucking nerd! ‘Cause I’m not a fucking dog!” He let a few small explosions roll off his palms, just to get rid of some of the energy that seemed to be humming through his veins.

Midoriya didn’t even try to hold back his laughter. If he was being honest, it made Bakugou’s heart swell to see his childhood friend laughing so openly, his smile wide as he clutched at his belly and fell further back on the sofa. It almost made him smile and laugh too. Almost. Instead he just yelled louder and kicked the back of the sofa, jolting Izuku in his seat, “Quit fucking around you weirdo! Aren’t we supposed to be going somewhere!?”

The inventor only laughed harder, using the back of his hand to wipe water from his eyes, “You’re too easy, Kacchan!”

“Hah!? You wanna’ go, you fuck!?” the hero threatened, another roll of explosions on his palms.

Midoriya snorted. He snorted in response, pushing another peal of giggles out, “So scary, Kacchan!” Izuku must have grown balls of steel at some point in his life because in the face of Katsuki’s embarrassment-induced rage, the inventor collected his laughter, turned and kneeled on the sofa cushion so that he could reach out and pat the blond on the head, “You’re just full of energy because you need a walk, let’s go boy!”

Bakugou’s younger self would have punched the nerd so hard that he lost at least two teeth.

Older Bakugou swatted his hand away from his head and shouted once more, “I AM NOT A FUCKING DOG!”

Midoriya laughed all the way to the train station.

~~~~

“Gimme!” Mei shouted as she glomped Izuku, “What did you bring me? Let me seeeeeee!” The pink haired demon reached for the case Izuku had lugged with him, making grabby hands as Izuku playfully kept it away from her.

Bakugou glanced around the lobby area of the support tech company, but no one seemed to think twice about the two nerds’ behavior. If anything, the hero was the cause of more double-takes than anything.

“You can play with it up in the labs!” Izuku said with a laugh.

Mei’s eyes shifted to Bakugou, “Have you done any test runs with it?’

The hero blinked at her for a minute, unsure of why he was being asked instead of the inventor, and then it clicked. “Is that for me!?”

“Mei!” Izuku squealed, a red hue blossoming on his face.

She cackled at him, a full belly laugh that had her doubled in half, “I can’t believe you had Ground Zero at your disposal for days and didn’t even tell him you were working on a project for him!”

“He would have made me take even more breaks!” Izuku shouted, throwing his arms out in exasperation and giving Mei the opening she needed to swipe the case from his grasp.

“Damn straight I would have!” the blond huffed angrily, “Why are you even working on something for me?”

Izuku’s eyes widened and the flush on his face deepened impossibly further, “That, that is, that’s uh—“

“Izuku has been in charge of your gauntlets your entire professional career, blasty,” Mei answered helpfully from where she was seated on the floor of the lobby, looking over the gauntlet still nestled in its case.

For a moment, Katsuki would have sworn the entire world shifted into silence. He felt his jaw drop slightly, leaving his mouth agape as he stared at Midoriya. He had so many questions. When? Why? How? Why? WHY? “WHY!?”

Izuku wrapped his hands around his face, the way he used to back in middle school when he was flustered and embarrassed… or scared. It was only then Bakugou fully registered he’d grabbed Izuku by the collar of his flannel and had his other palm lifted up threateningly, small explosions going off—a habit of intimidation he’d picked up in middle school but continued to use in his line of work.

He let go immediately and took two big steps back, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

A beat of awkward silence weighed heavily and then Mei swooped in to save the day in the way only she could. She shoved the case into his hands, “Save the explosions for the lab! We gotta’ test this bad boy out! C’mon! C’mon!” And just like that she was pulling his arm and shoving Izuku forward to the closest elevator. The crowd around them seemed to shrug off the scene: just Mei and her weird friends, nothing to see there.

Once on the elevator, she dropped her hands to her sides and let the tension settle in. Bakugou had so many things to ask, but this didn’t seem the place or time and he was afraid he’d start yelling again, so he clenched his hands around the case and bit his tongue and stared at the elevator door, doing his utmost to ignore the shuffling of the scientists behind him.

That last act was particularly hard to accomplish as the two seemed to be whisper-bickering with each other. Bakugou watched the numbers slide upward and counted the floors, wishing the test labs weren’t so damn near the top of the tower.

“Ouch! Mei! Stop it!” Izuku whisper-yelled. Bakugou couldn’t stop himself from turning his head just a touch to glance back. He hadn’t anticipated seeing Mei pulling Izuku by his ears down to her eye level.

“Talk. Now.” She hissed at him.

“I’ll talk to him later!” He whisper-yelled back and Bakugou tried his very best to pretend he wasn’t straining his ears to hear them fully.

“I meant to me,” she answered sharply, “I can go back to his agency and—“

Bakugou winced at the thought. He’d fucked up royally, gone straight back to bully behavior the second he was surprised, trying to intimidate an answer out of Izuku instead of conversing like a stable person.

“No, Mei!” Izuku answered at full volume, surprising all three of them. Bakugou didn’t even try to disguise looking back at them. Izuku had one arm around his waist, clutching at the opposite elbow, sunk into himself so he seemed much smaller than he actually was, head down and gaze focused on his shoes. Katsuki recognized that stance too; Izuku used to withdraw into himself like that when they were younger. The hero couldn’t help but wonder if Izuku had always been larger than he seemed.

Izuku cleared his throat, shifting his head so he was looking at the wall, avoiding their gazes, “I wasn’t scared, just surprised.”

“Izuku,” Mei called firmly, “We all know this situation is tenuous at best, if—“

“Kacchan has been perfectly up to your standards, Mei,” Izuku retorted, pivoted his head to glare at her before frowning and looking away again. “He hasn’t done anything wrong since receiving his assignment—even arrested Toga.”

They arrived at their floor before the conversation could go any further. Katsuki stepped out and waited to follow the others. Mei led them to an observation room attached to a trial area and she was strictly business setting them up. Bakugou had never seen her so stiff. Her actions were stilted and rigid, her directions short and perfunctory. She was pissed. That much was clear.

Izuku drew him into the actual trial area. Mei had clearly set it up in advance, there were various objects set up for him to blast through. It was a set up he’d seen plenty of times before, whenever Mei delivered replacement or upgraded gauntlets for him.

Izuku took the case from him with a gentle smile, “Take your gauntlets off for me?”

Bakugou’s throat constricted, he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth for even a standard reply. He was too certain a river of apologies and questions would come out instead. Instead he just nodded and went to work removing the equipment from his arms.

“Right arm please,” Izuku instructed, giving another strained smile at the hero when Bakugou extended his hand. The inventor went to work fitting the prototype to his arm, “I know it’s pretty plain and ugly right now, but we’ll make sure it matches your costume before it’s officially registered as part of your gear.”

Bakugou nodded again, biting his tongue again to keep himself from talking.

“You’re gonna’ hurt yourself if you bite like that while you’re trying this out. Don’t put a hole in your tongue,” Izuku chastised softly as he finished fitting the gauntlet to Bakugou.

“Right,” Bakugou forced out, “I won’t, uh, bite myself, or whatever.” God, he sounded so stupid.

“Don’t worry about Mei,” Izuku said, a small sigh escaping him, “I’ll talk to her. She’s just really… protective of me, like a big sister I guess.”

“Mei?” Bakugou repeated, confused, “I’m not worried about Mei, Izuku. I’m worried about—“

“I was embarrassed!” Izuku cut him off, squeezing his eyes shut and blushing again, “I didn’t say anything earlier about the gauntlet being for you because I didn’t… I didn’t know how to say I..I..”

“You what?”

Izuku opened his eyes, seemed to be searching Bakugou’s face. “I’m still a fan, Kacchan. I cheered you on, during the sports festivals, and I was so happy when I saw you on the news during your third year work study with Fat Gum and Red Riot. When Mei and I started working on stuff together we used to talk about your gear a lot. Officially, Mei is your support technician, but I’ve been helping for, well, since—“

“High school?”

Izuku nodded, letting his gaze shift to the side, “When her company got your contract they kept her on it and she began sub-contracting me.”

“But this is a prototype you just came up with, right?” Bakugou asked, waving his gauntleted arm slightly, “It wasn’t commissioned?”

“I, um, your gear is really interesting and I’ve been trying to solve the kickback issue for a while. The current set is a lot better but it wasn’t what I wanted and then when I was working on Chargebolt’s new system I had an idea and thought I could maybe repurpose some of the kinetic motion pieces to—“

“You’re mumbling, ya’ damn nerd,” Bakugou said with a smirk, but his voice betrayed how utterly elated he was. Izuku wasn’t afraid of Katsuki. Izuku was just embarrassed. Izuku was a fan.

“Ah, right, sorry, I, um… you aren’t sweaty enough.”

“The fuck?”

“Trial runs. You need to sweat. We usually do a bunch of ridiculous machine based nonsense to try to replicate your blasts but today we have you! So, run a couple laps?”

“Clear all that out?” Bakugou asked, gesturing towards his gauntlets and the prototype’s case.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll…” Izuku began collecting the items, dropping the conversation. Bakugou took it for the small mercy it was and began jogging along the perimeter of the room.

Once he’d worked up a bit of a sweat, Katsuki made his way to emptier side of the room where he’d be firing from. It was intriguing to see the pouch of his sweat that had collected, usually that was covered by the outer shell so he’d never really seen the inner workings of his gear.

Mei clicked on the intercom and began giving him instructions, “Small blast to Target A” and “Bullet piercing blast to Target E.” It went on for a while, without her normal cheer, but she did seem less outwardly aggressive than she’d been just moments ago. But Mei’s attitude toward him became a background thought as he practiced with the prototype. The gauntlet was an absolute dream. He’d never felt anything quite like it. Typically, training like this would start to put a strain on his arms, even small fractures with the sizes of the blasts Mei had started to request over and over again. He was just barely beginning to feel a slight ache in his wrist as they finally wrapped up.

He couldn’t have kept the grin off his face if he tried, especially when Izuku reentered the room to ask how he felt about the prototype. “This thing is a-fucking-mazing, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki answered confidently, “How the fuck are you keeping the blast feedback from radiating into my arms? I mean, I’m losing a little momentum during aerial movement, but it’s barely noticeable.”

Izuku gave him a wide, excited smile, one that truly reached his eyes, “I’m glad to hear that! It’s really good feedback. We’ll try to even it out so your speed isn’t affected! It was awesome to have you here for the trial so we could get genuine feedback both from you and the computer! You’re amazing, Kacchan!”

The hero was reaching an arm out to hug the inventor before he knew it. Instead of wrapping his arm around Izuku’s shoulders though, he ruffled the scientist’s hair, “You’re pretty amazing yourself, ‘Zuku.”

Midoriya’s smile widened and Bakugou thought he saw actual stars in those wide green eyes, “Wow! You mean it, Kacchan?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you, Kacchan!” Izuku said, aiming that 1,000 watt smile directly at Bakugou.

Mei buzzed through the intercom, “Would you two hurry it up! I want to get my hands on that beauty!” The blond felt his shoulders relax with relief as he heard her playful tone finally return. The trio cleared the space quickly enough, delivering the prototype to a secure on-site vault and eventually making their way to the lobby. Izuku and Mei chattered excitedly about the results of the first trial and Bakugou patiently answered all the questions they’d intermittently throw at him.

They finally stopped to say their farewells in the lobby. Mei shocked Bakugou by pulling him into a hug, but he was less surprised when she threateningly whispered in his ear, “You lay a hand on him and I’ll murder you and no one will ever find the body.”

“I have zero doubts about that,” Bakugou replied with a smirk as he pulled away from her grasp, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Ugh,” Izuku grumbled with a click of his tongue, “I can take care of myself!”

“No you can’t,” replied Katsuki and Mei in unison. Izuku only rolled his eyes in response.

“Alright you two, I have lots to do!” Mei said, shooing them away with her hands. “I’ll come by in a couple days and we can go over ideas. Take a few days to recover!”

“We’ll start with an early dinner,” Bakugou assured her.

“I can agree to that!” Izuku chirped happily, turning to begin the journey home, “Can we pick up fried chicken on the way home?”

“Hell no! That shit’s bad for you!” Katsuki answered with artificial anger, “I’m cooking again!”

“Can you make fried chicken?”

“Fuck no! I’m making mapo tofu!”

“Not tofu!!” Izuku whined, then he brightened up, “Then, can we have cake for dessert?”

“Dessert!?”

Izuku giggled in reply, “You know, the sweet stuff after the healthy stuff?”

“I know what dessert is you shitty nerd!” Katsuki retorted.

The two continued their banter for a while as they made their way home, until Izuku thought of another question about the gauntlet. Bakugou couldn’t help but find the mumbled prattling a bit endearing.

~~~~

“Kaaachaaan!” Izuku whined, his voice distorted as Katsuki continued to shove his face away.

“Get lost, nerd!”

“But you’re so warm!” Izuku contested, ducking below the blonde’s hand and weaseling his way further into Katsuki’s space.

The evening had been a peaceful one thus far. After returning home from the support agency, Izuku had cleaned up a bit around his shop and then helped make dinner. After cleaning his plate, the inventor had gone to take a shower without having to be instructed, hassled, or threatened. Bakugou had thought Izuku had been lying when he said he’d go back to a normal routine after the project was done, but thus far it had proven true.

The scientist had wandered into the living space in a loose pair of athletic shorts that exposed those delicious calves and another white tee that clung to his skin where it was still slightly damp. His hair had only been toweled dry and then hand-tousled. Bakugou had been watching the news when Izuku wandered into the room and over to the bookshelf, he’d never admit he’d jumped again when the freckled fiend had shuffled into his peripheral vision. At least he didn’t yell this time.

Izuku had settled at the other end of the sofa, tucking his leg up under himself and leaning onto the armrest so that some of his skin was exposed where his shirt rode up. Bakugou chose to not acknowledge himself noticing it and redirected his focus back on the television.

They’d fallen into comfortable silence as Izuku read and Katsuki switched from show to show. An hour or so passed that way, and then Katsuki found a channel that was playing an old All Might movie. It was a nostalgic favorite for the hero, so he’d settled in, hadn’t even noticed Izuku shifting his attention.

Half an hour in, Izuku started wiggled his freezing toes under Katsuki’s thigh. “The fuck you doing, brat?”

“I’m cold, Kacchan!” Izuku answered.

“Then get a blanket!”

“Oh! Good idea!” Midoriya said, popping off the couch and disappearing into the back of the flat. He returned a moment later, dumping a comforter onto Bakugou and then shuffling under it himself so that he was right next to Bakugou.

That had led to their current predicament.

Izuku hugged at Katsuki’s torso, “Sooo waaarm!”

“That’s why you got the fucking blanket!”

“But the blanket is cold, Kacchan!” Izuku pouted, “Besides, PTSD babysitter dogs cuddle their masters!”

“Good thing I’m not a fucking dog then!” Katsuki yelled, flailing and pulling Izuku away by his shirt collar. The method was mostly ineffective, “Get off of me you overgrown koala!”

Izuku giggled, “C’mon, Kacchan! You’re supposed to take care of me, right?” He aimed that god-forsaken smile right at Bakugou and god was he weak for it.

Katsuki huffed and clicked his tongue, scooting himself into a comfortable position and propping his feet on the coffee table, “Fucking, whatever.”

He was going to need sunglasses if Izuku kept smiling like that so close to Bakugou’s face. The nerd started to settle the blanket around them, draping it over Bakugou’s legs and then cocooning himself as he curled up like a cat and placed his head on Katsuki’s lap. The blond hoped his face didn’t give away his shock at the new position. He’d thought the nerd just wanted to sit beside him, maybe use his shoulder like a pillow, not rest his head so close to his—

“Are you being a bad doggie and thinking dirty thoughts, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, that wicked smirk on his lips and mischief in his eyes.

“Not a dog,” Katsuki growled.

“Not denying those dirty thoughts though.”

“That isn’t—“

Izuku giggled again, “It’s alright, Kacchan. A lot of dogs get excited when their master is close by.”

Katsuki was definitely blushing now, so he made a point to scowl down at the green eyed menace, “Fucking pervert, just watch the damn movie.”

Midoriya hummed thoughtfully, but otherwise kept silent as he shifted his eyes to the screen. If Katsuki sighed in relief, the nerd let it pass without comment. The quiet didn’t last long, of course. “Is it weird,” asked Midoriya, “watching stuff like this after attending his classes?”

Katsuki looked down, expecting to see those viridian eyes looking up at him, but instead Izuku was gazing at the screen. Bakugou frowned; something was off. Izuku had idolized All Might, but the way he was looking at the screen held more hurt than admiration. He reached out to stroke at the shaggy green curls, letting his fingers scratch at Izuku’s scalp. It seemed to relax him, or at least distract him from the screen as he closed his eyes.

“Not really,” Bakugou answered, “I mean, it’s really corny and not a very good depiction of his personality when he’s not in front of a camera. He was a nice guy all the time, but a lot more down to Earth than people realized.”

Izuku hummed thoughtfully, “I haven’t seen this movie in a long time.”

“Really?” Katsuki asked, tucking a curl behind Izuku’s ear.

“Stopped watching his stuff after…”

When he trailed off, Bakugou rested his palm on Izuku’s shoulder, let his thumb run a soothing line, “After?”

Izuku shifted, turning onto his back so he was staring up at Katsuki, disrupting the comforter, and shifting the hero’s hand so that his palm rested over Izuku’s heart. Mindlessly, Katsuki continued to let his thumb run its soothing circuit.

The answer was whispered, as if ashamed, and Katsuki could see the beginnings of tears welling up in Izuku’s eyes. Beneath the hero’s palm, the scientist’s heart rate was speeding up. “He told me to give up.”

Bakugou stilled for a moment, letting the words sink in. He thought back to their argument, to what Izuku had told him: ”A hero. An important one. I asked him… He said no …and then I realized I was on the bridge and I just… I was so damn tired.”

“You mean, All Might was the one… the day you?” Bakugou asked cautiously.

Izuku let out a shuddered breath, a tear finally spilling over and Bakugou reached up to wipe it away without thinking. The inventor nodded, and then a sob escaped him, “Fuck—I didn’t mean to—I never—“

Katsuki pulled him in close, held him in a tight hug, “Worried about his reputation?”

“He’s All Might, ” Izuku spat, “he was—“

“Wrong.” Bakugou said firmly, “He was wrong. About you. We were all wrong. Look at what you’ve accomplished, huh? How many lives have been saved because of your inventions? Your equipment? You don’t have to have some stupid costume and a quirk to be a hero. Think you’ve certainly proved that much.”

Izuku clutched onto him, let himself cry openly, probably for the first time in a very long time. Katsuki quietly reached for the remote, turning off the television, adjusted the comforter over them both, and held Izuku to himself, doing his utmost to sooth the man in his arms.

Crying wasn’t really something Bakugou was used to dealing with. He’d always been the kind of hero that left dealing with the civilians to others. He had no clue if he was doing the right thing by simply letting Izuku sob, but from his experience a good cry could be truly therapeutic. Eventually, Izuku stilled, his sobs turning into sniffles, and eventually into soft breathing. Katsuki wouldn’t dare risk waking him up, so instead he leaned his head back against the couch cushion and ran his hand over Izuku’s back until he too fell asleep.

Chapter 6: Day 5

Okay, so maybe he should have woken Izuku up and moved them both to their beds. The crick in his neck was awful and it was more than an awkward affair to wake up with Izuku pressed up against him. They’d shifted at some point in the night so they were both laying down, hugging each other, but the result was that Katsuki spent a good ten minutes debating waking Izuku up or trying to pretend he wasn’t enjoying the feeling of Izuku’s breath on his neck and his hand on his pec and his leg between his thighs.

Then Izuku shifted said leg higher and placed just a bit of pressure to the chub Katsuki hadn’t realized he was sporting and just like that, the hero sat up abruptly, sending the sleeping scientist to the floor with a heavy thud.

Katsuki winced at the groan Izuku released, but quickly lost all feelings of guilt when the first thing out of the nerd’s mouth was, “Bad dog, Kacchan!”

“Fuck you very much!” Katsuki shouted, as he jumped off the couch and made his way to the bathroom to begin his morning routine.

By the time Katsuki emerged from his morning shower, dressed in jeans and a tank top, Izuku had finished preparing a simple breakfast for them. “You cooked?”

“It’s just rice and eggs,” Izuku said with a shrug, “one of about four things I can actually make without burning my house down.”

“Well, thank you for the meal,” Katsuki said, seating himself at his spot at the bar as Izuku served him his breakfast. “You should drink some extra water this morning,” the hero added as Izuku went about pouring their usual juice preferences for breakfast.

Izuku gave him a shy smile, “Uh, yeah, probably should after, after crying all over you. Sorry about—“

“Don’t apologize.”

“But—“

“No. There’s no reason to apologize,” Bakugou said sternly, “It’s a normal reaction, just means you’re human.”

Izuku blinked owlishly at him, “You’ve really grown up a lot, huh Kacchan?”

Katsuki scoffed and tried to hide his laugh, “Mandatory therapy for heroes. Hard not to pick up some maturity and coping skills.”

“Well, if I can’t apologize,” Izuku said as he came around to Katsuki’s side of the bar and placed their drinks down, “then at least let me say thank you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Bakugou said, but he knew it was the wrong answer the moment that damn shit-eating-grin appeared on Izuku’s face.

The scientist reached up patted the hero’s head, “You were a great comfort last night! Good boy, Kacchan!”

Katsuki waved his chopsticks threateningly, “I’m not a fucking dog, damn it!”

Izuku only laughed at him, retreating to his own seat to eat breakfast. Katsuki shoveled his breakfast into his mouth angrily (and silently grateful the food was edible).

“What would Kacchan like to do today?”

“What do you mean?

“I mean what would you like to do? I usually just work out and read when I don’t have an active project going on, or sometimes I go visit Mei, or find a hook-up on Grinder.”

Bakugou choked on his rice.

“Sorry! Was I rambling again?” Izuku feigned ignorance, “Anyway, I don’t have anything going on, and Kacchan has uprooted his life for me, so why don’t I just follow you around today?”

“Wouldn’t it be safer if—“

“The league knows I’m here pretty much all the time, so if they were looking for me they’d come here!” Izuku said with a smile, as if he’d solved a puzzle, “So it would be better if we moved around a lot!”

“That, kinda makes sense.”

“Sooo?”

“I’d kinda like to work out or spar. Kirishima and I usually have a standing meet up at the gym. And I could stand to do some more shopping for clothes, I guess. We should get more groceries too now that I think about it, and I was thinking you should get a curio cabinet.”

“A curio cabinet?”

“To put all your awards and stuff in,” Katsuki said plainly, “You’re using them like paperweights when they should be displayed.”

Izuku’s blush was fierce, “Oh, no, no that isn’t, those aren’t---“

“They are important, ‘Zuku. They’re evidence of your accomplishments, reminders of your success. Reminders of how many people you’ve helped save.”

Midoriya didn’t look convinced, but acquiesced nonetheless.

And thus began their busy day. Kirishima had been forced to take up a different patrol shift with Bakugou on bodyguard detail, so he arranged to meet up with them at the gym later in the afternoon. The pair spent most of their morning in a large mall across town. Izuku insisted they use his company card for all of Katsuki’s purchases, so that the commission would reimburse the hero on his next check which would be faster than waiting for the damage claims money to come in.

Katsuki was a man of simple taste when it came to fashion. He knew which brands he liked, his sizes, and his preferred designs (skulls were cool, everyone else could fuck off). Shopping for him didn’t involve a lot of trying on junk, but instead sorting through the racks and selecting what looked comfortable and fit his aesthetic.

Izuku seemed more than happy to tag along, observing as Katsuki selected clothes and even occasionally pointing out a shirt or hoodie that he thought his bodyguard might like. They’d made it through three or four stores before the green haired inventor started to get bored.

“Kacchan! Look at this!” Izuku said with a smile, holding up a black leather biker jacket adorned with spikes.

“The fuck is that?”

“You don’t like it?” Izuku said, tilting his head, “I thought it was edgy so it seemed like you.”

“I’m not some stupid emo! Put it back, brat!”

Izuku puffed out his cheeks and glared a bit, but retreated back to wherever he’d pulled the ridiculous jacket. Katsuki did his best to ignore the cute display and instead focus on selecting work out clothing.

“What about this?” Izuku was holding a button down this time, dark green with black lacing along the collar.

“Do I look like I wear formal wear?” Katsuki growled.

“Ugh,” Izuku whined, but didn’t argue. Again disappearing.

Katsuki selected a few sweat pants and was thinking he’d have to get new shoes too since all he had were his hero boots.

“This one for sure!”

He braced himself for something ridiculous but was still not prepared when he looked up to Izuku proudly holding up a ‘shirt’ that seemed more fishnet than cotton. He couldn’t even properly respond, where was anyone even going to wear something like that? Was it even from the men’s department?

Izuku burst out in laughter, doubling over to hold his belly with one hand while he pointed at his shopping partner with the other, shirt dangling from his hand, “Your face!”

“Shitty nerd!” Katsuki yelled, dropping his items to instead lunge at Izuku. The scientist laughed louder as Katsuki began to tickle at his sides.

“Ha! Never grew out of it, I see!”

“Stop, Kacchan! Mercy!”

“Punk ass!” Katsuki declared as Izuku wriggled away from him. “Put that back!”

Izuku was still giggling, but left to obey orders. Smile widening as Katsuki yelled for him not to, “bring anymore stupid shit over here!”

This time, the hero was able to make his selections and begin checking out before Izuku quietly arrived at his side. He didn’t draw any attention, but he did have his own small shopping bag from some other register in the department store. Katsuki raised a questioning eyebrow, but Izuku just gave him that impish smile and asked, “Where to next?”

Next was a shoe store where Izuku miraculously behaved himself. Finally, weighed down by bags, they made their way to custom shelving and furniture store.

“I still don’t think this is necessary, Kacchan.” Izuku said, swinging some of the bags he’d taken from Katsuki in a wide, dangerous gesture.

“Quit flapping your arms around or you’re gonna break something, dumbass,” said Katsuki, “and it is too necessary, so pick something or I’ll pick it for you.”

Izuku blinked at Katsuki owlishly, “I mean, I didn’t really pick any of my furniture before.”

“What?”

“I just sorta, bought a showcase set or two.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“The answer is yes, but I feel like maybe I should lie.”

“Fucking hopeless,” Katsuki tsked, but he nevertheless began making his way through the store, looking for something that would fit the apartment. He found a wide case, similar wood to the bookshelf wall in Izuku’s home. It would fit nicely in the awkward space between the back of the stairwell and the wall that hosted the entertainment center.

Izuku, lazy genius that he is, somehow haggled in same day delivery and the delivery of all of their other bags as well. So the duo placed their shopping into two cardboard boxes, left their contact information and then found themselves standing outside the mall, near 1 pm, empty handed despite Katsuki’s best efforts.

“Lunch?” Izuku asked, “If we grab something now and then go back to the warehouse, we should be able to arrange the deliveries just in time to go meet Kirishima.”

“Sounds perfect, what do you have in mind?”

“I hear there’s a spicy ramen place not too far from here.”

“Actually, that’s one of my favorites from when I used to patrol this area.”

Izuku smiled, “Lead the way!”

~~~~

They’d had do run a bit more than anticipated, but the duo managed to nail the timing. After a good meal, they returned to the warehouse just long enough to sign for the delivery, have the curio cabinet hauled upstairs, and quickly check the boxes. Then they had run to the trains and arrived at the gym Bakugou frequented just in time to meet Kirishima and Kaminari out front.

“Hope you don’t mind me tagging along!” the lightning blond said with a smile.

“Of course not!” Izuku replied, “Now I’m not just a third wheel!”

“You do some training?” asked Kirishima, “I noticed you have a pretty impressive in-home gym.”

“Ah, yeah,” Izuku said, scratching under his ear—an old nervous tick, “though I haven’t had a chance to spar with anyone in a long time. I started some self-defense and MMA stuff back in high school.”

“Learn something new every day,” Bakugou said with a smirk, “figured you just did weight training.”

Izuku ducked his head down, hiding his face, “The hero course students at Shiketsu liked to train me, kind of a pet project I guess.”

“Does that mean you know Camie?” asked Kaminari, “What a babe.”

“Ah, yes! Her quirk is really interesting, the illusions are top notch!” Izuku answered, perking up and instantly transitioning into his geek mode.

“Let’s get inside before he starts muttering,” Bakugou said, shoving the group forward, much to their amusement.

Once inside and settled, the group paired up to warm up and stretch. Katsuki couldn’t help but roll his eyes as Kirishima led Izuku through the basics. Of course the nerd wasn’t properly working his muscles. It was nothing short of a miracle he hadn’t hurt himself.
“Looks like the mats are open if we wanna do some sparing,” Kaminari announced, “I could stand to do some footwork practice.”

“You could stand to do some everything practice,” Bakugou grouched.

“Quirk free hand-to-hand isn’t a bad idea,” Kirishima added, “Got an alert this morning—apparently your favorite villain is back on the prowl.”

“Favorite villain?” Midoriya asked.

“A: They’re a vigilante,” Bakugou defended, “and B: they aren’t my favorite anything.”

“Whatever,” Kaminari said, rolling his eyes. He nudged Izuku’s shoulder with his own, “He doesn’t make the news so you wouldn’t have heard of him, but there’s this dude—Sable—that shows up and just tears shit up for a while.”

“Sable?” Izuku asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Wears all black, extremely aggressive, impressive instincts, usually on the prowl during twilight hours,” Kirishima explained, “So the Commission named him Sable, like the animal.”

“What’s his quirk?” asked the scientist.

“Unknown,” the red-head supplied, “but based on what intel we have, heightened instincts of some kind seem most likely.”

Katsuki grunted, “We gonna’ yammer all day or get some fighting in?”

“Me! Me!” Kaminari said, raising his hand and jumping as if he were an excited preschooler, “Spar with me, King Explosion Murder Sir!”

Katsuki smirked, “Well then get your ass in the ring!” His red eyes landed on Kirishima and Izuku, “You two can give us notes, and then we’ll swap.”

“Sounds good!” Kirishima said, giving a cheesy thumbs up and settling at the edge of the mat alongside Izuku. They watched quietly as Katsuki quickly made the first move and Kaminari seemed to dance out of reach.

“Kirishima-san? May I ask a question?”

“Call me Eijiro—or at least drop the san,” the red-head answered with a toothy grin, “What’s up?”

“Kacchan…How do I…” Izuku fumbled, “Kacchan has always seen things as black and white.”

Kirishima cocked his head ever so slightly, but didn’t interrupt. He figured a question would emerge eventually.

“It’s just—you made it sound like Kacchan likes this, um, Sable?”

“Ah, I see your confusion,” Kirishima replied, his smile dropping and his gaze returning to the sparring match in front of him. “It’s one of the few things he and I disagree on—vigilantes aren’t cool man, just not manly at all. I get they want to do something good, but they’re still breaking the law—they don’t have the training or support that professional heroes have. They run a real risk of causing more trouble than helping.

“But Katsuki, he figures this Sable character can take care of themselves. They show up in the city, only stay active for a month or so and then they’ll disappear for six or seven months—longer sometimes. When they’re active though, they’re a serious threat to criminals.”

“Serious threat how?”

“I mean, they’re not murdering people or anything, not like some kind of Stain remix. But they, well, they definitely do some damage. It’s always criminals, and they always leave them where they’ll be found quickly by police, but they also have a tendency to break bones, leave some major concussions, that kind of thing.”

“Is the damage worse than what a hero would do in a standard villain fight?”

Kirishima frowned, considering the question, “Actually, I guess Sable probably does less damage. Certainly very little property damage. But that doesn’t mean vigilante work isn’t still illegal. I say Sable is a villain, committing assault; Katsuki says a stupid plastic license doesn’t make what we do any different from what Sable does.”

Izuku hummed in consideration, “Kaminari is really quick on his feet.”

The red-head laughed and smiled, leaning over to grasp Izuku around the shoulder in a friendly fashion, “He’s gotta be! Otherwise Katsuki would have exploded him by now!”

With a thud, Katsuki pinned Kaminari to the mat, one hand locked behind his back while the explosive hero used his legs to pin the voltage hero. “Squirmy little shit! Say uncle!”

“Uncle!” Kaminari yelled, but he was smiling when Katsuki released him. “Took you fifteen seconds longer this time!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki said, giving the other blond a hand to return him to his feet. Kirishima joined them on the mat, giving them feedback on their movement, before eventually inviting Izuku onto the mat as well.

The green haired man took a deep breath to prepare himself, “It’s been a while since I sparred.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kirishima soothed, “It’s always good to practice against a new opponent. A chance to see a new way of thinking, right?”

Izuku gave him a soft smile and a nod of agreement.

“We don’t got all day, losers!” Katsuki ‘encouraged’ from the sidelines.

Izuku moved first, taking advantage of the distraction. He came in low on the left, dropping and spinning with a low sweep of his legs—more break dance than fighting. Kirishima’s initial reaction was delayed, but he was a professional, so he recovered quickly.

The red-head was taken aback by how quickly the other man moved. By the time he’d turned to both evade and face his opponent, Izuku had already rounded to his other side—attacking on the left again but now from a different angle. This time, Kirishima stood firm, blocking the right hook Izuku threw at him only to be swept to the ground when Izuku hooked Kirishima’s left ankle with his own and pulled it out from under him.

Kirishima rolled, muscle memory going into action—move away and regroup. He was still on one knee when his opponent was on him again, a high kick this time—he hadn’t even heard him move across the damn mat. The red-head moved on instinct, taking the wide opening to punch Izuku in the gut. Izuku took the hit, falling backward but gracefully let his legs continue the roll so that he was back on his feet in an instant.

It was bewildering to observe—a hit like that should have knocked him down for a good few minutes but Izuku hadn’t released a grunt or moan or cough. He literally just rolled with the punch and was immediately on the offensive again. This wasn’t at all what any of the heroes had expected when the scientist had joined them on the mat.

Their fight was outlasting Katsuki’s and Kaminari’s game of tag and a few people in the gym had stopped to watch. Izuku was, after all, tiny in comparison to Kirishima and yet he somehow had the bulky hero on the defensive. He was just so damn quick and so resilient.

Inevitably though, Kirishima was the professional. Izuku’s movements seemed unpredictable at first but he had a set style. Eventually, the red-head was able to catch him by the ankle mid-kick and pin his opponent.

“Say… uncle,” Kirishima commanded through panting breaths.

“Uncle!” Izuku obliged, but he was giggling. Giggling.

“The fuck was that!” Katsuki yelled, marching towards them as if personally affronted by what he just witnessed.

“I told you I don’t need a guard dog,” Izuku whined, sitting up on the mat and taking stock of potential injury. Kirishima felt some tiny recovery to his pride to see Izuku was breathing heavier, but he certainly wasn’t as out of breath as the pro.

“How in the hell—“ Kirishima began asking as Kaminari approached, chiming in, “You gotta show me how you did that!”

“It’s just physics,” Izuku said smiling from where he was still sitting on the mat.

“Physics!?” questioned all three of the professionals.

“Well yeah,” Izuku said, “Kirishima is a lot bigger than me and he has a denser muscle mass. My punches and even my kicks aren’t going to do sufficient damage. So, the only sensible thing is to knock him off his feet and knock the air out of him while also weakening defenses to weaker areas like the head and neck—not that I was really aiming to do real damage,” he added with an assuring smile to Kirishima.

“What about that punch you took to the gut though?” Kaminari asked, “It’s like it didn’t phase you.”

“Oh no, I’ll definitely be feeling that for a few days,” Izuku laughed.

“Sorry!” Kirishima instantly butt in, “I didn’t mean to go full force or anything but—“

“Instincts are instincts,” Izuku waved him off, “If you don’t want to get punched by a professional hero then you shouldn’t enter a sparring match with one.”

“You’re getting sidetracked,” Bakugou groused, “How’d you recover so quickly? I’ve taken a punch like that from Red, it ain’t no hug.”

“Again, physics. It’s a matter of momentum and inertia. Basically as soon as I realized I couldn’t evade the hit I relaxed my body so that I wasn’t adding additional force to the equation—I even pushed back with my heel on the ground which changed the direction of force in my body ever so slightly. Once I took the hit, rather than tense, I allowed my body to follow through the movement of falling and went with it. Swing your legs up and over, roll back to your feet. I learned a lot of ‘break falling’ that actors and parkour athletes use when I’d train with Inasa, er, Gale Force, back in high school.”

The heroes considered the information, reflecting on their own tendencies when they did take hits. “Okay,” said Kaminari, “but like, Kiri is just now catching his breath. You, like, didn’t make a sound that whole time?”

“Oh,” Izuku rubbed at the back of his neck, shy expression back in place, “Breath control is just… a lot of practice.”

“Kinky,” Kaminari answered, waggling his eyebrows.

Izuku turned red, waving away Kaminari, “That uh… that’s…” he sputtered. Meanwhile, Bakugou had turned a far deeper shade of red and was gawking at the embarrassed green haired man while Kaminari laughed.

Kirishima coughed gently, getting their attention, “Would you mind teaching me some of those break falling techniques?”

“Oh! Me too!” Kaminari said, hand in the air.

“Ah, sure!” Izuku agreed, finally moving to stand properly, “Kacchan? Would you like to learn as well?”

Bakugou found his voice quickly, “Of course I would you dumb nerd!”

Izuku smiled widely, “Great! Let’s start with the basics!”

~~~~

Bakugou flopped back on his bed, towel around his hips and hair still damp from his shower. They’d stayed at the gym longer than anticipated and ended up grabbing dinner with the guys. By the time they’d returned home, it was already getting late. Izuku had wished him good night and promised to shower before going to bed, so long as “smelly Kacchan” did the same.

Katsuki smiled to himself, it had been a good day. Stretching out his sore muscles, the hero made his way off the bed and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and his pajama bottoms. He eyed the two boxes of clothing they’d bought earlier in the day.

“Might as well,” he grunted to himself. He pulled the boxes onto his bed and began the process of untagging and sorting so he could wash everything the next day. He was halfway through the second box when he came across the little bag Midoriya had mysteriously procured.

He hesitated for a moment, but then unceremoniously dumped the contents of the bag. He felt his eye twitch as he gazed down at the orange nylon dog collar.

“THAT FUCKING—LITTLE—SHITTY—NERD!!” he bellowed, grabbing the collar and marching down the hall to pound his fist on Midoriya’s bedroom door. “Open up you shitty nerd!”

He stopped banging on the door just long enough to hear a crash of some kind, like something being knocked to the floor, followed by a groan, and then shuffling footsteps. The door opened enough for Izuku to poke his head through, “Kacchan?” he asked with a yawn. He looked like he was still half asleep but Bakugou couldn't care less.

“What the fuck is this!?” the hero yelled as he held up the collar in one hand and slammed the palm of his other hand on the door, causing it to open further and reveal—well, a lot of Izuku. Apparently the scientist only slept in a pair of tight, black boxer briefs and Katsuki found himself wishing there was better lighting in the hallway. He was momentarily sidetracked by the full scope of Izuku’s lean muscle mass and pale, freckled skin, and… far more scar tissue than he’d expect to find.

“Oh,” Izuku said sleepily, drawing Katsuki’s eyes back up to his face. Izuku rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Fuck, why is he so cute? “I forgot about that. It’s the same color as your costume.” With the coordination of a half asleep child, Izuku reached out and plucked the collar out of Katsuki’s hand.

“What are you—“ Bakugou started to ask as Izuku brought his other hand up as well and then with a sharp click the collar was loosely around his neck. It was clearly intended for a large dog with the way it hung more like a necklace than a collar.

The hero growled and quickly captured one of Izuku’s wrists, “Are you fucking kidding me right now!?”

Midoriya was unimpressed by the display of aggression, just giving a lopsided grin instead, “Suits you.”

“What?”

“’m sleepy, Kacchan. Can we play in the morning instead?” Izuku asked, another yawn escaping him.

Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Your hair is dry,” he stated, releasing Izuku’s wrist to flick the other man’s forehead. “You were supposed to shower before bed.”

“But I’m tired!” the scientist whined, “I can shower in the morning.”

The hero sighed, “Fine. But you have to wash your sheets in the morning.”

“Mm’kay, Kacchan,” Izuku said, rubbing at his eyes once more. “G’night?”

“Good night, nerd.”

With one last grin, Izuku disappeared into his room once more, leaving Katsuki standing in the hallway in pajama pants and a nylon collar. He’d been played. “God damn it,” Katsuki sighed, yanking the orange abomination from his neck and exploding it in his palms.

He left the remains of the collar at Izuku’s door.

Chapter 7: Day 6

The inventor didn’t leave his bedroom until nearly noon the next day. He emerged with damp hair and wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt that said “work shirt” on it.

“’Bout time you woke up,” Bakugou said from his place on the sofa. He’d already done an hour work out, eaten breakfast, and begun the process of cleaning his clothes. Now he was checking his email on his phone, working his way through the various work related alerts and updates.

Izuku plopped down on the sofa next to him, “Guess I was a bit more tired than I realized.”

Bakugou only grunted in response.

“Sorry, Kacchan.”

The hero finally looked up from his phone, red eyes latching onto a distressed looking scientist. “Sorry?” he asked cautiously.

“I, uh,” Izuku’s eyes seemed glossy with tears, but it was hard to tell with the way he kept his eyes trained on the floor. “I didn’t mean—I went a little overboard with the, uh, collar. I wasn’t going to—I didn’t meant to—“

“Dude,” Bakugou grunted, “Chill out. S’fine.”

Izuku let his viridian eyes drift up to meet the hero’s. “Don’t want to bully you,” he said quietly.

Bakugou let the statement hang in the air for a moment, “I was just tired last night.” He sighed and scooted closer to the scientist, “It was kinda funny, thinking about it now.”

“So you aren’t mad?”

“Nah,” Katsuki assured, raising a hand to ruffle Izuku’s damp curls, making Izuku smile widely. “If you feel that bad about it, you can make it up to me by eating something and moving those medals and stuff into the new cabinet.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “Only if you help. I have to actually do a little work today.”

Bakugou took in his outfit again, “You serious?”

“I haven’t checked my email and stuff in a long time. I need to do the boring paperwork stuff.”

“So just office stuff?”

Izuku nodded, “Well, a little research too. I had some ideas yesterday at the gym and I need to see if there’s any work already done.”

“Lunch first,” Katsuki demanded.

“Alright, alright,” Izuku agreed, standing up from the sofa. “Have you already eaten lunch?”

“Nah, we can make something.”

“Lead the way!”

They fell into what had quickly become the ‘usual routine’ of Bakugou directing Midoriya around the kitchen. They ate and enjoyed a pleasant conversation on the current news headlines before Bakugou threatened Izuku into bringing his dirty sheets and clothes out of his room so they too could be washed.

Izuku disappeared into his office then, promising to return with his various trophies when he’d finished his office work. Katsuki went about his chores, feeling oddly happy with the domesticity of the day. It was several hours later before he heard an unfamiliar voice coming from Izuku’s office.

He made his way from his own bedroom towards the office space across the hall, listening intently to the conversation—the two were making no efforts to keep their voices down. Their ‘guest’ seemingly unaware of Bakugou’s presence.

“So Toga isn’t here? For real?” asked their guest. Bakugou tried to place it—clearly a league member, but which one?

“Nope!” Izuku answered, “She came by a few days ago though.”

“How long was she here? I mean, it’s not unusual for her to hang out here overnight, but this is way longer than normal for her to be gone without checking in.”

Izuku snorted, “Is Dabi-san worried?”

The intruder huffed in annoyance, “More like annoyed, Twice won’t shut the hell up. Where’s Toga? When will Toga-chan be back? Have you heard from Toga? My precious Himiko!” the fire user said mockingly.

“Like I said, she dropped by a couple days ago, but she left that same night.”

“Oh well,” Dabi said, his voice tight like he was stretching, “Mind if I crash on your sofa? Can’t get a decent nap in with Twice freaking out and Shigaraki throwing a hissy fit.”

“Whatever, just don’t bother me while I’m working,” Izuku said dismissively. What the hell was he thinking? Katsuki questioned while silently placing himself in position to capture the villain by surprise. This would be too damn easy—except he didn’t have cuffs on him. Damn.

The door to the office swung open inwardly, so Katsuki had to press himself against the wall so as not to be obvious. The second Dabi was in sight, the hero moved. He raised his palms up, hands on either side of the flame users face and set off twin explosions just large and loud enough to get the villain’s ears ringing and eyes filled with smoke.

The villain responded naturally by raising his own hands to his face which gave Katsuki the opening he needed to grasp the flame user’s hand and get him in a proper hold. A quick kick, shifting of his weight, and a few well-practiced motions and the villain was on the ground firmly seated in Katsuki’s grip.

“Hey nerd!” the hero yelled, “Got anything to—“ he was cut off as Izuku handed him what he suspected was a prototype module of new quirk nullifying handcuffs. “The fuck do have shit like this just laying around?” he groused as he took the cuffs in one hand and applied them to the outraged villain.

“What the actual fuck, Izuku!?” Dabi yelled, glaring heatedly at the inventor, “A fucking sting?”

Izuku shrugged, though Bakugou wasn’t sure if he was responding to the hero’s question or the villain’s. Then he turned around with a simple, “Don’t disrupt me while I’m working,” and returned to his office. Bakugou couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket to call the police again.

The police and commission reps were quick to get there. Bakugou was all too happy to hand the villain off into police custody—the prototype cuffs seemed iffy at best. The hero soon found himself situated at the dusty kitchen table, filling in the ever-irritating paperwork that goes with a successful capture. Just like last time, it’s a stream of officials each needing to check off their list of protocols.

Izuku was just as precocious as the last time. He refused to come out of his office until anyone and everyone that insisted he make a statement was present, “I’m not wasting more of my time than necessary,” he argued. When he did emerge it was with arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Dabi arrived via portal, he asked about Toga, I told him she’d been here a few days ago and left.” An officer opened his mouth to ask a question but Izuku cut him off with a glare, “No, I didn’t yell for Ground Zero or alert Dabi to anything that happened when Toga was captured. We weren’t having a quiet conversation, Ground Zero was close by, I assumed he would overhear and approach. He did. Being as he’s intelligent, he waited for the right opportunity and captured the villain. Any other questions?”

“No,” said the officer, intimidated by the glare Izuku was sending his way, “I think that’s everything for now.”

Izuku turned his glare to the Hero Commission Representative, but the suit was far less intimidated. “Are we done with the bodyguard nonsense?”

“You’ve been attacked twice in a week.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “And this is the one that originally threatened me, so I’m good—hooray.” The scientist waved his hands in a sarcastic gesture.

“But now two League Members have gone missing after coming to your location,” the suit replied dryly, “Placing you at a higher risk for retaliation.”

“Isn’t that your fault for using me like bait?”

“We aren’t attempting to use you as bait,” the suit replied, “Considering the greater risk of retaliation we’re moving both you and Ground Zero to a safe location.”

“The hell you are!” Izuku shot back, voice raised and fists clenched. “I am not leaving my shop!”

“We’ll place hero personnel here to keep the location and everything in it secure.”

“No. You. Will. Not.”

“Midoriya, this isn’t—“

“I didn’t ask for a bodyguard,” Izuku said coldly, pointing at Ground Zero who was watching the exchange with the same wide-eyed expression as everyone else in the room. “I have been more than accommodating in letting the commission place him here. I have allowed you and these idiot officers to traipse all over my shop and my home wreaking absolute havoc, but I will not be leaving.”

The suit took in the look on Izuku’s face and then turned to look at Ground Zero.

The hero shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t see a reason to leave the location at present so long as we put more heroes on patrol in the area for backup. I’ll also take extra precautions to always have support tech, radio, and cuffs on me at all times.”

The suit reluctantly agreed.

Midoriya took the win as it was and returned to his office space. The parade of officials completed their business as quickly as they could, but it was still another hour or two before the hero and scientist were left alone in the building. Even then, Izuku did not emerge.

Katsuki left the man to his own devices. It was obvious how much Izuku valued the privacy of his home and shop—how much of an intruder he felt the hero was on that privacy. Try as he might, Katsuki couldn’t shake away the thoughts of how Izuku had said he was accommodating the hero. Was that all? Would Izuku kick him out the second the bodyguard nonsense was over?

He hadn’t been living here for more than a handful of days, but he was already in a routine. Already comfortable. He enjoyed Izuku’s company more than he’d thought he would.

But this was just a job. Izuku was just accommodating him because the Commission was forcing him to. They weren’t roommates, or even friends. Bakugou didn’t know when he’d even started to think of them as such but the realization that it wasn’t true turned his stomach and made his throat tighten up.

His phone buzzed, alerting him to some idiotic chain of texts from his idiot friends. They’d heard about the arrest and were congratulating him. Not like he’d really done much. He didn’t bother to reply, but did notice it was nearly seven at night. As if awoken by the realization of time, his stomach growled at him.

Right, he had a job to do. With a sigh, the hero made his way to the kitchen and began preparing a meal. Perhaps he was subconsciously in need of comfort food as he soon had a spicy curry simmering, its rich scent filling the living space.

“That smells amazing, Kacchan!”

The hero jolted, turning to face the scientist that had yet again snuck up on him. He was carrying a copy paper box in his arms, the tops of trophies sticking out at the top.

“You gathered your awards?”

Izuku tilted his head as if confused by the question, “You told me to?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the food.

“Is Kacchan okay?”

“M’fine,” the hero answered gruffly. Too short and stern to be sincere. The sound of clanking metal and glass alerted him that Izuku had put the box down and then he felt the hesitant touch of Izuku’s fingers at his elbow. “What, nerd?”

“What’s wrong?”

Anger bubbled up in Katsuki’s throat and he shook off Izuku’s touch, “I said I’m fine.”

“Kacchan, you clearl—“

Katsuki whirled on him, small explosions popping along his palms, a deep scowl on his face. “Are you stupid? I’m fucking fine. I just told you that. Worry about your own fucking self and I’ll just do my job!!”

Izuku stepped away as if burned, though Katsuki hadn’t actually touched him. The man shrunk back again, curling in on himself so he appeared smaller, eyes downcast, “Oh… Kacchan must be tired after… you don’t have to make me dinner,” he said, eyes glued to the floor and voice small, “I’m not that hungry anyway. I think,” he stepped backward, turning to exit the kitchen, “I’m just gonna’ go to bed early.”

He’d hurt Izuku again. A part of him wanted to chase after, tell the nerd to wait, bring him back for dinner, but a larger part of him just felt angrier that Izuku had the audacity to feel hurt at all. He let the scientist slip away to his bedroom without protest.

With a deep breath, Katsuki began the robotic steps of finishing prepping the meal. He ate a small portion, placed the leftovers away in the fridge, cleaned the dishes, and then went to the treadmill and ran until his muscles felt like jelly.

He still wanted to scream, but now he was too tired to bother. He dragged himself to the bathroom for a hot shower and finally collapsed into his bed.

He wasn’t particularly looking forward to work tomorrow.

Chapter 8: Day 7

Notes:

THANK YOU!! I can't even begin to express how much I appreciate the kudos and comments! I'm a little overwhelmed by how well-received this has been. My campus is moving into a remote learning system due to covid19, so I should have time to write (It's a nice distraction from panic occurring in my town). Hoping to have at least one chapter up a day until it's done. We'll see how that goes...

Katsuki sat in the hallway. For a while, he’d stood in the hallway, but even a pro can only stand around for so long. So, he’d dragged a dusty chair from the dining room and was sitting on that instead of the floor.

With every passing minute he was getting more irritated. He glanced at the screen of his phone and grit his teeth as it read 2:37 p.m. He’d been out here, waiting, for two hours.

His morning had started relatively normally. He’d woken up at an appropriate time, now that his sleep schedule was a bit more normal, and gone through his morning routine. The nerd slept through breakfast, but that had proven pretty normal in the past days. Katsuki had been content to do a bit of weight lifting and reading while he waited on the scientist to emerge; but just a little after Katsuki had eaten the last of the curry, the little goblin shuffled past Katsuki, the drag of his feet drawing the hero’s attention.

Izuku wasn’t dressed like normal, or, well, he was dressed differently. It didn’t look like he’d showered, but he’d changed out of his athletic shorts and into a dark pair of sweat pants with loose hems that hung too long around his ankles. Instead of a t-shirt, he had a dark blue Henley on. While the pants seemed too large for his frame and too long for his legs, the shirt seemed too fitted. The sleeves were pulled up to expose the scientist’s forearms and the fabric was pulled tightly across the chest.

Katsuki realized he was getting distracted and felt his irritation from the night before begin to bubble. This is work. Be professional. “Oye, nerd,” Bakugou groused, placing the dirty plate in the sink. But the other man ignored him. “Oye, you need to eat.”

Izuku didn’t as much as look at him when he responded with a lazy, “I’m working.” He ran his hand across the back of his books and ran his tired eyes over the spines, then pulled three of them off the shelf and clutched them to his torso with one arm.

“Izuku,” Bakugou growled as he stepped out of the kitchen area to move closer to Izuku, “I’m talking to you.”

The scientist kept his gaze shifted away, down at his feet, but he still turned towards Katsuki. He began heading back down the hallway.

“Are you seriously ignoring me!?” Katsuki asked as the scientist moved past him. Something was off. Katsuki observed a bit more closely, taking in more information. Izuku hadn’t snuck up on him, he was shuffling his feet, favoring his right leg ever so slightly. He was moving slower, eyes on the ground to focus on movement not just to piss off the hero.

“Izuku,” Katsuki tried, as he followed the other man down the hall, “Are you okay?”

The scientist had reached the end of the hall, not to enter his office or bedroom as Katsuki expected. Instead, Izuku thumbed over the keypad of the upstairs lab space. “I have a new project,” Izuku said calmly, moving his thumb to a small scanner. The door buzzed slightly, the latch audibly releasing. Izuku swung it open, “This is the only door in or out of the lab. I’m fine. Worry about yourself.”

Bakugou visibly flinched at having his own words thrown back at him. His anger seeped out of him but his shoulders remained tense, “Izuku, can we—“

The scientist entered his lab, the door slamming shut behind him. A little green light came on, hanging just above the door and lighting the hallway in an eerie glow.

At first, the hero thought the scientist would return to talk after a short while. Then an hour had gone by and he’d dragged the chair over to sit in. Every so often, he’d stand to pace the space of the hallway, knock at the door, he even went to text Izuku and realized he didn’t have his number.

Instead he’d texted Mei.

[Me:] Send me Izuku’s cell number

[Goggles:] He doesn’t have a phone, says it’s too distracting. Why?

[Me:] I pissed him off. He locked himself in his lab.

[Goggles] Oh yeah, no reaching him when he’s in there. But! It’s the safest place in the building. Just have to wait!

[Me:] Think he might be hurt?

[Goggles:] Hurt how?

[Me:] Long pants on, bit of a limp, not walking straight

[Goggles:] He didn’t go anywhere did he??

[Me:] Pretty sure he was in his room since last night

[Me:] Fuck

[Me:] Think he snuck out? I’m usually a light sleeper

[Googles:] Probably. He wouldn’t have had to go past you. There’s a fire escape at his bedroom window.

“Fuck!” Katsuki had yelled, standing and pounding at the laboratory door. Of course, Izuku didn’t open it. The phone buzzed in his hand.

[Goggles:] Hate to say it, but you’ll have to wait. Even I don’t have the code to the lab.

So here he was, two hours in: waiting.

Waiting and fuming.

He was distracted from his rage by the sound of the downstairs door opening and Kirishima’s friendly voice calling out a confused, “Hello?” followed by Ashido’s familiar “Anyone there?”

Katsuki stomped to the stairs, “The fuck you two doing here? How’d you get inside!?”

The two guests appeared at the bottom of the stairs, both in full hero gear. Kirishima shot his toothy grin up at him as he started on the stairs, “Oh! Bakubro! There you are!”

“Answer the question, Shitty Hair! How’d you get in!?” Bakugou repeated.

“Izuku buzzed us in,” Ashido answered, “We knocked a few times and then he came over the intercom. Said he was working but we could come hang out with you!”

“Yeah man,” Kirishima added, “We’re on patrol but figured we’d just come say ‘what’s up’. Only on patrol here for Izuku after all.”

They reached the top of the stairs and began pulling off their boots. Ashido smiled, “Plus we wanted to show your nerd today’s headline!”

“The headline?” Bakugou asked, scowl firmly in place. He thought they were keeping all the League shit under wraps.

“You haven’t seen?” Ashido asked, clearly delighted. Soon she had an arm around Bakugou’s shoulder, her phone pulled up too close to his face.

“Get away from me!” Bakugou yelled, snatching the phone from her hand. He focused his attention on the phone as the other two heroes made their way into the living space. She’d pulled up an article titled, “Heroes Show Their Support for the Support!” Katsuki skimmed the first few lines and then had to go back and reread more carefully.

It was about Izuku.

Well, it was about them joining the fan site for Izuku. They did a brief bio on the inventor though to explain why the heroes who’d joined the fan site were likely fans in the first place.

“Wait,” said Bakugou, “This says thirty heroes joined the fan site just on one day?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ashido said, “After our night here, we all shared the info with the rest of our former classmates and our co-workers and stuff. So like, a hundred heroes have joined in the last week.”

“It’s awesome!” Kirishima said, “Where is the little dude?”

“He’s in his lab,” Katsuki said, throwing the phone in his hand back to Ashido. He ignored her demands not to throw her shit around to focus on Kirishima, “He started some new project.”

“Ahh man, think he’ll come out while we’re here?” Kirishima asked, “I wanted to ask him something.”

“Kiri is getting as obsessive as you,” Ashido mocked.

“I’m not obsessive!” the two men answered in unison.

Ashido plopped herself onto one of the sofa’s, propping her feet up to dangle over the arm, “Sable this, Sable that. Tired of hearing about it.”

“Something happen?” Katsuki asked, arms folded across his chest.

Kirishima groaned and sat on the sofa across from Ashido, “He was on a rampage last night. Hit like six places, detained four villains.”

“He did what?” asked the explosive hero. He’d been following the vigilante’s work for a while—he’d encountered him when he was still fresh out of high school. Gave him a good chase but lost the guy anyway. It used to piss him off, but over time he’d gotten to kind of like the guy’s work. At least, he assumed it was a guy—kinda hard to tell by the frame and costume.

Still though, the vigilante typically only showed up around sunrise or sundown. Quick in and out, pre-planned work and then he was gone. He didn’t do multiple targets over the course of one night.

“You heard me,” Kirishima said, annoyance on his features, “Landed some heavy hits on the targets too. And he had an encounter with Cellophane last night.”

“Sero ran into the guy?” Bakugou asked, surprise overtaking him, “He alright?”

“Awww,” Ashido cooed, “You used his actual name! You do care!”

“Shut it, Pinky!”

The woman giggled, “Sero is just fine. He gave chase, had a small scrabble. The way he tells it, the suspect was more interested in getting away than engaging. Though Cellophane did manage to land a few good blows from the sound of it.”

“He got away then,” Bakugou said.

“Don’t look so happy about it,” Kirishima pouted.

“I’m not happy!” Bakugou screamed. Much to Ashido’s delight.

Kirishima however took the words as more of a confession, “You do seem kind of down. What’s up, bro?”

“I’m fi—“ Bakugou began to yell, but he deflated. His friends had settled in, so he might as well too. He swatted at Ashido’s feet and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I pissed off Izuku.”

“Oh?” Ashido asked, “You pissed someone off? I can’t imagine.”

“That’s not—“ Bakugou started to argue, but Kirishima cut him off, “Leave him alone, Mina. What happened, Kat?”

Katsuki still struggled with things like this. It was certainly easier to open up than it had once been, but the gooshy, emotional shit wasn’t his thing. Seeking advice he’d gotten used to though. So, with a deep breath, he reminded himself these were his friends. “Last night, those shitheads from the commission were giving ‘Zuku a hard time. He… He really hates having someone in his space. I just… he said… it’s not like he asked me to be here.”

Ashido and Kirishima shared a confused look and the red head braved the question, “So, just help me understand. You said you pissed him off, but it sounds like maybe it was the opposite?”

“I, uh, snapped at him. He could tell I was mad, but I—“

“He tried to get you to talk,” Ashido provided, “instead of giving you space to cool off?”

Bakugou hadn’t expected that. It hadn’t even occurred to him. “I guess, yeah.”

“Got another question though,” said Kirishima, “Did he tell you he didn’t want you here, or did he tell the commissioner reps he didn’t want a body guard? ‘Cause he mentioned that back at the gym the other day, that he didn’t need a body guard. But he seemed to be enjoying your company.”

Oh.

Ashido hummed thoughtfully, “It’s okay to have been upset, you know. But, maybe it was a misunderstanding? And Midoriya, I know you knew each other as kids, but like, you haven’t known each other as adults for very long. He probably didn’t realize that you just need space when you’re upset. That’s his bad. I don’t think this one’s on you, bud.”

“Gotta agree with the lady,” Kirishima said, “I mean, you need to explain the whole situation but I don’t think you’re really to blame. Just a misunderstanding, easy to fix.”

“That’s… yeah, thanks,” Bakugou replied, earning him wide grins from his friends. The two hung around for an hour before they left to do more actual patrolling. Izuku remained securely behind the lab door. Katsuki settled in his chair, a book and a calmer attitude in hand.

~~~~

A metallic clank roused him from his sleep. He was propped up in the chair, slouched with head resting on his shoulder. He could feel the crick in his neck and the soreness of his back even before opening his eyes.

Soft footsteps forced the groggy hero to open his eyes. The inventor had finally come out of his hiding spot and was standing in front of Katsuki with a dumbfounded look on his face.

Izuku sighed, a soft smile turning the corner of his lips. “You really are just a puppy dog,” he said, reaching a hand out to run his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, “you’re even drooling.”

“Time is it?” asked Bakugou, unaware of how he was leaning into Izuku’s touch even as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth to hide the evidence of drool.

“Not sure,” said Izuku, “but it’s late. You should get into bed, it’s bad for you to sleep like that.” The scientist pulled at the hero’s arm, prompting him to stand. “C’mon, off to bed.”

Bakugou allowed Midoriya to guide him to the guest bedroom and over to the bed, where Izuku turned back the covers for him. He sat at the edge of the bed with a huff, rubbing at his eyes in a childlike motion, “Need to talk.”

Izuku sighed again, “It can wait until morning.” He nudged at the hero, prompting him to collapse onto the bed. The scientist laughed at the picture before him: Ground Zero snuggling his head into a pillow with a satisfied hum while his legs dangled off the side of the bed. Izuku grabbed his ankles and got him properly situated before tucking the covers over Katsuki. The hero let another happy hum escape him as he settled into the far more comfortable sleeping arrangement.

Try as he might, Izuku couldn’t resist the urge to run his hand through Katsuki’s hair one more time. “Good night, Kacchan,” he whispered before turning to leave.

He didn’t get far. Katsuki had reached out to clutch at his wrist. Izuku turned back to find Katsuki’s sleepy gaze locked onto him.

“Stay.”

“What?” Izuku asked, tensing at the demand.

“You snuck out—got hurt. Gotta’ keep an eye on you.”

“How did you—“

“Mei. Fire escape.”

“That traitor,” Izuku grumbled.

Katsuki tugged at his wrist, “You gotta’ stay. Don’t get hurt again.”

“I promise I’ll stay in the building,” Izuku assured, free hand returning to Katsuki’s hair. It seemed to lull the hero for a moment, his eyes drifting closed, but his hand remained latched around Izuku’s wrist.

“Liar,” Katsuki said quietly. “’sides, you need sleep. Gotta’ heal.”

Izuku huffed at him, “I’ll go sleep in my room. C’mon, Kacchan, let go of me.” He tried to shake the hero’s grip loose, but Katsuki only tightened his grasp.

“Fought Cellophane, right?” Katsuki asked, eyes opening once more to lock onto Izuku’s.

The scientist froze, his hand still in Katsuki’s hair. “What?” he asked, voice having lost the calm, comforting tone from before.

“Sable,” Katsuki said, “s’you, right?”

Izuku pulled his free hand back, trying once more to step away only to be held in place by the hero’s grasp on his wrist. “How are you so strong when you’re half asleep?” Izuku wondered out loud.

Katsuki responded with a sleepy giggle, causing Izuku to whip his head back and stare at the hero. “Just come sleep,” he demanded, “talk in the morning?”

Izuku willed the tension in his body to relax, “Yeah, alright.”

Katsuki moved quickly, scooting across the bed tugging Izuku down onto the mattress before finally releasing his wrist. Izuku flicked the hero’s forehead, “I could have managed that on my own.” The hero grinned in response, shoving the covers towards Izuku and then nuzzling into his new pillow. Izuku sighed once more, situating himself so he was comfortable. By the time he’d finally stilled, Katsuki’s breathing had already evened out.

He considered leaving, going back to his own bed. Then, Katsuki hooked his ankle over Izuku’s, a content hum on his lips.

Izuku stayed.

Chapter 9: Day 8

Notes:

Oh my goodness!! I am overwhelmed by the response this story has received! THANK YOU ALL for your comments and kudos and bookmarking!

Thanks to y'all I've really been inspired to keep writing AND I've worked out in my head how I want to tie everything together in the end.

Side note: I have the story marked as mature (mostly because of the tension. So, do we want to get mature later on in the story? I could always do a one-shot afterwards.

If Bakugou had learned anything about Midoriya in the past week, it was that the man was like a koala. If he found something, or someone, producing warmth, then the scientist would cling as close to it as he could get. Which is why he wasn’t surprised to wake up and find that the nerd had grappled him in his sleep.

Izuku had, at some point in the night, invaded Katsuki’s side of the bed. The hero was flat on his back, one arm hooked around Izuku who was using Katsuki’s shoulder as a pillow, his own arm slung over Katsuki’s torso. Much like on the sofa, Izuku had one leg hitched up over Katsuki's thigh.

Despite his neck still being sore from sleeping in the chair, Bakugou was fairly certain he’d never been more comfortable in his life. If Katsuki was calculating it right, the little dweeb had been awake and active for nearly forty hours—he doubted that Izuku stopped for a power nap. Eventually, he’d have to get out of Izuku’s embrace but for now he was content to just enjoy the situation as it was. Katsuki drew his free hand up, resting it over Izuku’s arm and let his thumb draw little circles over the surprisingly soft skin.

Of course, Izuku was constantly surprising him. The dark haired man hummed delightedly, his arm hugging Katsuki tighter. Sleepily he praised, “Good boy, Kacchan.”

Bakugou tensed for a moment and then growled, using his free hand to flick at Izuku’s forehead just as the scientist had done to him the night before. “I’m not a dog, asshole!”

Izuku giggled, tilting his head to look at Katsuki but not really pulling away, “But you waited all day for me. Such a loyal puppy!” he said with a wide grin on his face.

“You little shit!” Katsuki yelled, pinching Izuku’s back and causing Izuku to yelp and pull away. It gave the hero room to launch both hands forward and begin tickling the scientist mercilessly.

Izuku squealed and laughed, all while kicking Katsuki away and shoving his hand over the hero’s face to push him back. The hero, reverting back to elementary fighting styles, licked the palm of Izuku’s hand. “Gross! Kacchan! Bad dog!” Izuku said, wiping his spit laden hand down Katsuki’s cheek.

“Disgusting!” Katsuki yelled, wiping his cheek over his pillow.

“It’s your spit!”

“You talking back to me!?” Katsuki said, launching himself forward again so that he was pinning Izuku, his face hovering a foot above the freckled one below him. He gathered his spit and allowed a loogie to threateningly descend from his mouth.

“No! Bad dog!” Izuku wailed, squirming to get away, “Down boy!”

To be fair, Katsuki didn’t actually intend to drool on Izuku’s face, but loogies are sometimes unpredictable and hard to control. So, when Izuku jolted him and the wad of drool broke loose to fall over Izuku’s freckles, Katsuki can be forgiven for not expecting Izuku’s flailing to knock him clean off the bed.

He landed on his back with a hard thunk and groaned as he clutched his head, “Ow! Dammit Izuku!”

Izuku peeked over the edge of the bed, just his big green eyes and messy curls visible to the hero, “You alright down there?”

Why is he so fucking cute? Katsuki shook the thought away, “Yeah, m’good.”

“Can I convince you to make breakfast?”

“You’re actually asking for food?”

Izuku rolled his eyes, “I need a shower too. I appreciate you trying to help, but people don’t lick themselves clean like puppies do.”

“I’m not a fucking puppy!” Katsuki yelled, sitting upright swiftly to get closer to the inventor. Izuku, however, was just as swift and launched himself out of the bed and towards the door.

“I’ll be quick!” he said, grinning and waving as he exited.

Bakugou would deny he was smiling if someone had been there to call him out on it. He stretched out his limbs, working the muscles in his neck until there was a satisfying pop that seemed to loosen it up more, and then made his way to begin his morning routine.

He was just plating a serving of natto and fried egg over rice when Izuku came in. He’d dressed himself in the more typical athletic shorts and white t-shirt, a towel hung around his neck to catch the droplets of water still coming off his hair. It was clear he’d been wearing the longer sweat pants yesterday to hide the injury to his leg—Bakugou would have recognized that injury anywhere.

Cellophane’s quirk had a unique way of leaving deep bruising when it was wrapped around an appendage and then yanked on. The guy was strong enough to dislocate a person’s shoulder or knee if he really wanted to. The result of the attack always came out as if someone had drawn mummy-wrapping on the limb with red and blue sharpie. The bruising would then blossom in thick lines of purple and green before finally fading a good week later into a sickly yellow. It was a bruising pattern Bakugou was deeply familiar with and Izuku likely knew that.

“Anything worse than bruises?” Katsuki asked as he placed Izuku’s meal down at the bar.

“Everything seems to be in working order,” Izuku said, “Cellophane’s bite is worse than his bark, though.”

“Another dog joke?”

“Ah! No, I didn’t mean—just that he packs more of a punch than he looks like he would.”

“No shit,” Katsuki said, making his way over to his seat, “His capture rate is ridiculous. I’m sure he’s pissed you got away.”

Izuku filled his mouth with a bite, as if trying to buy himself time. Katsuki followed suit and waited. “How did you know?” Izuku asked, eyes glued to his food as he prepared another mouthful.

“Shitty Hair and Raccoon Eyes came by yesterday. Mentioned Sable had ripped shit up and managed to get away from Sero. Red’s pissed.” Izuku looked at him, a small frown indicating that he wasn’t satisfied with the answer. “I hadn’t laid eyes on you the whole time Sable was wreaking havoc and I saw you were favoring your right leg yesterday morning, you weren’t moving all ninja-like. Then Mei told me about the fire escape and, well, I had a lot of time to think while I was waiting on your dumb ass to come out of the lab.”

“You didn’t have to wait on me,” Izuku pouted.

Katsuki sighed, sending a red glare at Izuku, “Yes, I did. Literally my job, AND,” he emphasized over Izuku who’d opened his mouth to respond, “I was worried about you.”

Izuku’s expression was hard to read, some strange mix of confusion, flattery, and frustration. He again shoveled an over-sized bite of food into his mouth to avoid having to talk.

”Look,” Katsuki started, “the other day I got… upset when you were talking to the Commission Rep. Made it sound like I was a burden and you didn’t want me here and… Anyway, I was upset and I need space to cool down but you—“

“I pushed you to talk.”

“Right.”

They allowed silence to take over for a moment, both considering the conversation carefully, using their meal as a distraction.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku said, his eyes fixed on Katsuki’s, “I… I like to fix things. I didn’t think about what you wanted, I just act without thinking sometimes.”

Katsuki scoffed, “All the time, you mean.”

Izuku rolled his eyes at him, “And for the record, I have enjoyed having you around. You’re welcome to stay even after the mission ends or whatever. I just… well, for one I was trying to hide my, er, hobby, and I can’t stand the Hero Commission.”

“You just don’t like being told what to do.”

“Like you’re any better.”

Katsuki swallowed another bite of food before answering, “I guess I can see why you have issues with the Commission. Suppose you’ve never really been one for rules, never did what anyone told you to do. Been reckless since we were kids.”

“It’s only ‘reckless’ because I don’t have a—“

“It’s reckless because you don’t have backup. You don’t have support. What happens if you get seriously hurt? Who comes to help you? Does Mei know?”

Izuku stared at him wide-eyed, like he’d just been slapped. “No,” he answered, “Nobody knows… except you now.” The scientist fidgeted for a moment, “Are you going to—“

“No, I’m not going to turn you in, BUT I need you to take it easy. Let yourself heal properly, yeah?”

“Okay, Kacchan!”

“One more question, nerd.”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take the hero exams? You’d pass.”

Izuku gave an exasperated sigh and cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say, ‘really?’ but answered anyway, “Every time I registered or applied to take them I was immediately declined and the Commission would come knocking at my door about my mental health. So, I just started doing it without their permission.”

“What if I recommended you?”

“What?”

“Heroes can recommend people to programs or for testing. At our age, it’s handled by a different section of the commission. It’s not like student testing and doesn't go into the general pool of applicants.”

“You would do that?”

“Worth a shot at least. You’re going to go be a hero whether you have a license or not, nothing I say is going to make you stop, right?”

Izuku didn’t verbally confirm, but his face said it all.

“Right, so if we can get you a license then at least I know you’re going in with backup and support. Just take a break for a little while, let me see what I can do?”

“Okay, Kacchan!” Izuku said, his megawatt smile in place, “I’ll trust you!”

Katsuki couldn’t help his smile, “Good. Now finish your breakfast.”

After their meal, Izuku agreed to clean up the kitchen so Katsuki could go shower. By the time the hero had made it back, the nerd was long gone from the kitchen. Fortunately, Bakugou didn’t have to look very hard to find him. He was sitting in front of the curio cabinet, box of awards in front of him, wiping away dust from each medal or award before setting it on the floor next to him.

“Lemme help,” said Bakugou, picking up a glass obelisk, “What’s this one for?”

The inventor looked at it for a moment, eyes scrunched as if trying to remember, “Oh! That one’s from…” he began muttering a long explanation.

With a smile, Bakugou picked up the next one, “And this one?”

~~~~

“Kacchan!” Izuku whined, flopping down on the sofa next to the hero, “I’m hungry!”

“Asking for food twice in one day, might be a record,” Katsuki said, not bothering to glance up from his book.

Izuku pouted up at him and then slapped the back of the book so that it whacked the hero in the face.

“You wanna die!?” Katsuki yelled, one hand leaving the book to pop little warning explosions on his palm.

“I wanna eat!”

“Then go make dinner,” Katsuki said.

“I want to eat yakiniku!”

“And?”

Izuku sighed, rolled off the sofa to deftly land on his feet. He hovered in front of the hero, leaning forward to pluck the book out of his hands and toss it onto the coffee table. “C’mon boy! Time for a walk!” Then for good measure, Izuku rubbed the top of his head.

Katsuki immediately launched himself from the sofa, “I’m not a fucking dog!”

Giggling, the scientist moved out of reach, “Oh good! You’re up!” He quickly made his way to the getabako and grabbed a pair of sandals, “Let’s go boy!” he called as he disappeared down the stairwell.

With a grimace, Bakugou followed. He’d been played yet again.

Izuku took them to a little family run restaurant a train station away. The owner, a plump middle-aged auntie, greeted Midoriya by name, and of course wanted to know, “who is this handsome man? A date?”

“Shiori-san, don’t be embarrassing!” Izuku whined as he followed her to a little table. But he didn't deny it. Katsuki couldn't help but think.

The two sat and allowed the woman to turn on the little grill-top built into it. “Your usual?” she asked with a smile, to which Midoriya gave a delighted affirmative.

“And you?”

“Uh, just some beef… and vegetables if you got them,” Katsuki answered.

“A beer as well?”

Midoriya answered for him, “Yup! And a water for us both please.” With a smile and a conspiratorial wink, the woman whisked away with their order.

“You’re in a good mood,” said Bakugou.

“Am I?” Izuku said with a tilt of his head.

“Seems like it.”

“Guess it’s just been awhile since I haven’t had anything on my plate. Mei’s still doing all the boring stuff with the gauntlet, I don’t have an active commission, and you asked me to take a break from my hobby.”

“Thought you were locked up in your lab yesterday working on a project?”

“Oh, well, I was mostly just running tests on some stuff I picked up while I was out kicking butt.”

Bakugou snorted, “Out kicking butt, huh? Anything useful?”

“Not really, I already coded and sent an anonymous email to the police department.”

“Seriously? You do that kind of—“

“Here we are!” Shiori interrupted. She placed a water and bottle of Yebisu Black in front of both men and then trays of the ordered meat and vegetables. “Enjoy!” she said cheerfully, before leaving to tend to another guest.

“This is going to be so good,” Izuku murmured excitedly as he placed his first serving of pork onto the grill. Katsuki tried not laugh openly at the man, placing his own servings of beef, zucchini, and carrot by Izuku’s meal.

“Can’t believe you pay money to come cook somewhere when you have that fancy ass kitchen,” Bakugou teased, “And you didn’t order any veggies. You’re going to die of malnutrition.”

“And yet the Commission sends me a guard dog instead of a chef,” Izuku said.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, “So you just run around playing hero anytime your work lets up?”

The inventor shrugged, “I mean, I can’t do both at the same time. Even I have to sleep.”

“Hence why Sable goes into hiatus randomly.”

“Mmhmm,” Izuku said, turning the pork over, “smells so good.”

“It’s literally just meat.”

“What, you don’t drool over meat?” Izuku said, a slight waggle to his eyebrows.

Katsuki refused to acknowledge the attempted joke, taking a sip from his beer instead, “This is so much better than that piss beer the idiots are always drinking.”

“Cheers to that!” Izuku said, sipping from his own.

The hero chuckled and began dishing the cooked beef onto his plate as Izuku served himself as well. They refilled the grill space with more meat and another serving of veggies because, “God damnit nerd, eat something green!”

Katsuki’s attention was ripped from his food when Izuku moaned, “So good, Kacchan.” Izuku was savoring a mouthful of meat, his face relaxed and eyes closed.

Bakugou could feel the blood flooding his face. He cleared his throat, adjusted his seating, and focused on his food again. He swallowed down a slice of beef, trying to ignore the frankly overly sensual noises Izuku was making over grilled pork and tried to revitalize the conversation, “So what are you gonna’ do now that you aren’t tied down by anything.”

Izuku’s green eyes glinted with mischief as he smiled deviously at Katsuki.

Fuck.

“I usually prefer to be the one doing the tying,” he said, voice low.

Fuck, Izuku was mesmerizing when he did this.

“What about you, Kacchan? You seem like a busy man, do you enjoy being tied down?”

Katsuki swallowed, eyes glued to Izuku’s alluring gaze.

“Your veggies are going to burn.”

What?

Katsuki glanced down, “Fuck!” Quickly he moved the first serving to his plate, trying to will away his blush as Izuku snickered at him. The hero took a large chug from his beer.

“Uh, um,” the two men looked over to see they’d been approached by a high school aged girl, still wearing her uniform. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but can I have an autograph?” she asked timidly, notebook and pen already in hand.

“Oh,” said Bakugou, shooting Izuku an apologetic glance, “Sure, I—“

“Sorry!” said the girl, “Um, actually, I meant from Midoriya-Sama.”

“Me?” Izuku squeaked, pointing at himself like a moron.

The girl's eyes lit up as she explained, “I saw your name in the news and when I read about you, and everything you’ve done, I just—I don’t have a very useful quirk and people tell me I won’t be able to do much. But you, you haven’t let anything stop you!”

Katsuki heard a sniffle and turned to see Izuku was holding back tears. “I would love to give you an autograph,” Izuku said, taking the pen and notebook from the girl. He wrote out a short, encouraging message and signed the page before handing it back to the girl. She kept bowing and thanking him before finally turning back to go sit with her friends.

Izuku sniffled again and then quietly asked, “Why was I in the news?”

“Oh shit,” Katsuki said, pulling his phone from his pocket, “You were still in your hidey-hole when Eijiro and Mina came by.” He quickly did a search of Izuku’s name and found far more hits than he expected. Rather than choose any one headline, he handed the phone over to the scientist.

With shaky hands, Midoriya opened and skimmed the top article. It had been posted just earlier that day. “This says heroes have been joining my fan club, over a hundred and fifty now?”

“Yeah, my friends and I all joined and I guess they told people and it sort of started a trend?”

“There’s a hashtag now? Japanese Tesla? And, a meme?”

“There’s a meme?”

Izuku turned the phone to show him an image. In a white box at the top was a short list of his major accomplishments and then below a picture taken from Izuku’s fan page—one that looked like someone had walked past him at an award ceremony to shake another person’s hand—that was captioned “But nobody cared.” He reached over and clicked on the link below it, which took him to an online collection of the meme. People had been recreating the format with other famously not-famous people using similar photos or just poorly photocopying their face over Izuku’s.

“We joined like a week ago,” Katsuki commented.

“The internet moves quick,” Izuku laughed, handing the phone back to the hero, “Thanks Kacchan.”

“Maybe if you had your own phone you could have looked it up yourself.”

“I meant for starting the trend, asshole.”

Katsuki threw a carrot at him, reveling in the bubbly laughter Izuku emitted. Before he could get his phone back in his pocket, it chimed with his agency tone. He read through the messaged from Fat Gum a few times, "Uh, you said you have an open calendar, right?"

"Yeah," Izuku said cautiously, "Why?"

"Wanna be my plus one at a hero banquet next weekend?"

Chapter 10: Day 13

Notes:

Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I struggled with this chapter for some reason. As an apology, here's a link to some BNHA crack vines. My campus is officially closed by state order for at least two more weeks, so we're transitioning to online classes and it's a bit of a nightmare. The state has officially declared a natural health disaster and is letting us do curbside pick-up of food and booze, and doesn't that just say a lot about southerners in the US?

As always, I truly appreciate the continued support! This has been a great way to stay in contact with others while the world 'shuts down'. Y'all stay safe and healthy out there!

The next few days were a blur of preparation and domesticity. The two men needed to buy suits, despite Izuku’s protests, and get them tailored. They’d also had to buy shoes and accessories, arrange a car, and Bakugou was absolutely insistent that they both get their hair cut by professionals—he was scandalized to learn Izuku just let Mei cut his hair when she got irritated with it.

Amidst all the preparations, they also found time to hit the gym with the squad a couple times. Midoriya, of course, had to take precaution to keep his bruises carefully hidden and took to wearing tight athletic leggings which absolutely did not distract Bakugou so much that Kaminari actually landed a hit on him. In their free time, they lounged around the warehouse home reading, playing Mario Cart, and enjoying shared meals.

By the time Saturday night rolled around, Katsuki had worked himself into a state of nervousness. It’d been nearly two weeks since his apartment complex had been turned to rubble, just two weeks since he’d been reunited with the nerd, but in those two weeks he’d realized he really liked Izuku’s company.

Izuku’s teasing wasn’t helping matters. It seemed his habit of catching Katsuki off guard with innuendos, changes in his tone, making suggestive little noises at meal time, and invasions of the hero’s space were becoming more and more frequent. Just the night before Izuku had sprawled over Katsuki’s lap while he was seated on the sofa—acting as if he’d just wanted to lay out to read his book—but the result was that the inventor's ass was exactly in the spot Katsuki’s hands would naturally go to rest. Izuku’s lower abdomen was right over the hero’s crotch and he’d spent a good hour pinching his own arms trying not to pop a boner—he wasn’t entirely successful but Izuku never said a word.

Now, Katsuki was completing his preparations for the banquet, clumsily working his second cufflink into the little holes of the sleeves of his white button-down and trying his damndest to convince himself this was not a date.

Izuku knocked on his door, “Car’s here, is my hot date ready?”

That isn’t helping, Katsuki thought, but he answered, “Hold your fucking horses!”

The scientist took it as an invitation, opening the door to assess the situation. He chuckled softly, causing Katsuki to turn his attention to the darker haired man. He couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped him upon seeing Izuku in properly fitted clothing. He’d chosen a dark grey three-piece suit, a hunter-green button up shirt, and a black tie with a slightly askew orange X printed just above where the tie disappeared below his vest. His hair clearly had some product in it that allowed the curls to sit loosely but without frizzing like they normally did and he’d actually properly shaved away the scruff on his face that he tended to neglect.

“Here,” Izuku said, stepping closer, “let me help.” He took the silver and orange cufflink from Katsuki’s hand and deftly wove it into its proper place.

“Thanks,” said Bakugou, letting his hand linger in Izuku’s for longer than he needed to. “You look great.”

Izuku beamed, “Thanks! You look amazing too!”

“Whatever,” said Katsuki, looking away from the brilliant smile—a tiny blush on his face—and picking up his suit jacket. His own suit was a black two-piece, white button-down, with a silver collar brooch that pinned to each side with an X. He hated having stuff around his throat, so much so he even kept the topmost button of his shirt undone.

“Well,” Izuku said, watching as Katsuki slipped into his jacket, “Shall we?”

“Let’s go, nerd,” Katsuki said with a crooked grin.

~~~~

Katsuki had broken into the top thirty hero ranking a few years prior. Moving up the ranks after leaving UA had seemed easy, but once he and his classmates hit the higher ranks it got a lot harder to elbow past the heroes with diehard fan-bases already.

At the end of the day though, he was a recognizable figure in Japan at this point in his life. As such, he’d been forced to learn how to deal with paparazzi and press. Hero banquets brought the vultures out en masse—Bakugou hated it.

Arriving alongside Midoriya Izuku, famed scientist and nervous wreck, was somehow different. When the car pulled up to the entrance, roped off and lined with cameramen and journalists, Katsuki could see Izuku’s hands shaking. The blond gave him a reassuring smile, “Breathe, nerd. Just cameras.”

Izuku didn’t look convinced, “It’s just… a lot of people. Y’know?”

“So? You’re with me,” Katsuki said, “Once we’re inside it’s only select press anyway. We just gotta get inside.”

Katsuki could see Izuku hardening his resolve, “Okay, Kacchan.”

The hero opened his door, the one closer to the building entrance, and stepped out. Where most heroes waved and smiled, Ground Zero was known for his scowls and rigid stance. Today, however, the stoic hero immediately turned back to the car, his hand extended.

The scientist scooted across the back seat of the vehicle and took the hero’s hand, “Just gotta get inside?”

“Just gotta get inside,” Katsuki assured, guiding Izuku from the car by his hand.

The press took notice.

Cameras began flashing, journalists were shouting questions, Izuku’s grip on Katsuki’s hand tightened. The hero led the way, guiding the inventor down the path to the doors. It was intriguing that he wasn’t just hearing his name shouted out for questions, but Midoriya’s as well.

Katsuki leaned in, nudging Izuku’s shoulder, “They’re going nuts,” he laughed, “want to really rile them up?”

Izuku looked up at him, his mischievous nature peeking through his nervous terror, “How?”

“Just smile,” Katsuki said, dropping Izuku’s hand to instead wrap it around his waist and point them towards a camera. For good measure, he even raised his free arm to wave while he tickled Izuku’s side lightly. He could hear the dark haired man’s laughter and feel the tension drain from his body.

“Kacchan!” Izuku said, laughing.

Katsuki turned his face to see Izuku staring up at him, smile wide, “Can’t wait to see the headlines.”

Izuku giggled, stepping out of his grasp but grabbing his hand again. He took the lead this time.

Once inside the building, they were faced with a different kind of chaos. Hostesses guiding heroes to tables, waitresses delivering drinks and hors-d'œuvres, press quietly working from the walls, all while heroes and their guests rubbed elbows throughout the space. Bakugou was used to the routine though, and knew who to ask in order to be guided to their table.

A hostess led them through the people and tables to their own seats. There they were seated alongside Fat Gum, Red Riot, and two of the aides from their office.

“Izuku!” Kirishima greeted, “Looking sharp, very manly!”

“You too,” Izuku replied, “Ah, you’re Fat Gum, the BMI Hero!”

The man smiled and stood to greet him, “Tonight I’m just Taishiro Toyomitsu.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Taishiro-sama. I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he smiled, “but you probably already knew that.”

“That I did! How’s my sidekick doing?” the older man asked, a playful punch thrown towards Bakugou.

“Kacchan is great!” said Izuku.

“Obviously,” Bakugou added.

As soon as they were seated, a waitress appeared. She gave them each champagne and water. Throughout the evening, it seemed their glasses were never empty. The speeches were boring, the food and drinks were sub par, but the company was fantastic.

Taishiro and Kirishima both offered to keep an eye on Midoriya, if Bakugou wanted a break from his mission; the explosive hero stayed by the scientist’s side all night.

~~~~

Climbing the stairs up to the apartment floor was…difficult, while drunk. Champagne had a way of sneaking up on Katsuki. The room wasn’t necessarily spinning, but Katsuki’s balance was iffy at best. Beside him, Izuku was giggling and attempting to climb the stairs himself—grasping the back of Katsuki's suit jacket for extra balance like a small child might.

Katsuki had finally managed to make it up to the top and was working his shoes off when Izuku tripped on the last step. In his drunken grappling, he took Katsuki down to the floor with him.

Both men broke into laughter at the realization of what had happened. Katsuki had landed on his stomach, Izuku’s weight on him. He shoved up, rolling over onto his back to find himself face to face with brilliant green eyes.

The laughter was swallowed up by silence, their eyes locked on each other’s. Katsuki couldn’t help but notice the way Izuku’s eyes flicked down to his lips and back up, the bob of his neck as he swallowed, and the pink of his tongue as it breached his lips to lick at the corner. His breath shuddered, afraid to move and break the moment.

“Can I..” Izuku began to ask.

“Yeah,” Katsuki answered.

Izuku wasted no time to lean down and kiss him, Katsuki leaning up to meet him. It was chaste at first, warm lips on his own. Then Katsuki’s hand moved of its own accord, reaching up to clutch at Izuku’s jaw. Below his palm, he could feel Izuku’s racing pulse, encouraging him to deepen the kiss.

Izuku’s hand planted itself on Katsuki’s abs, running below his jacket and up to his pectoral. His thumb, whether on purpose or accident the hero didn’t know, brushed over Bakugou’s nipple causing him to moan. The scientist took the opportunity to lick into Katsuki’s mouth, hot tongue stroking his own. Katsuki brought his other hand to Izuku’s side, sliding downward.

He was millimeters away from Izuku’s pert ass when his phone rang.

Normally, he’d have ignored it. Tonight however, his cell was on do not disturb—the only exceptions were work related. Izuku pulled back and Bakugou let his head fall back to the floor, “fuuuck.”

Izuku got the hint, backing away to sit on the stairs while Katsuki answered, “This had better be good.”

“Ground Zero,” Fat Gum said sternly, “Please be on high alert and take extra measures. Tartarus had a break-in—Toga and Dabi have escaped.”

Chapter 11: Day 14

Notes:

I'm alive! The past two weeks have been NUTS! I swear I'm working more at home than when school was in person. Also, my spousal unit is working at home too and he interrupts me like every five seconds. lol

Starting to finally get a manageable routine down and should have the time to write again. During the little break though, we crawled over 400 kudos!! Thank you all for reading! To think this was just something I was playing around with in my spare time. :)

“Heroes are on their way now to transport you and Midoriya to a safe location,” Fat Gum continued.

Bakugou eyed Izuku, “He’s not gonna be happy about leaving his shop.”

“He won’t be happy if he’s dead either.”

A loud buzz rang out from downstairs—once, twice, three times. Izuku said, “Kind of late for visitors.”

Before Izuku could stand to head down to the door, Katsuki reached out to grab his arm. “Should that transport be here already?” he asked.

“They were already patrolling the area,” Fat Gum said in explanation. “I know you don’t like it, but at this point you’re both targets. The heroes will be staying with you for the time being.”

“Got it,” said Katsuki, “Anything else?”

“Just, be careful, yeah?” Fat Gum said, “They’re expecting you this time.”

The door buzzer went off again, this time in a pattern—once, twice, pause, and then three times again in quick succession. Izuku’s demeanor changed from mild concern to intense concentration. “That’s Inasa,” Izuku said, shaking Bakugou’s grip away so he could stand.

“Can you confirm Gale Force should be here?” Bakugou asked his boss.

“Along with his hero partner, Mirage, yes.”

Bakugou stood to follow Izuku back down the stairs, shoes forgotten despite the sobering effect of the sudden tension. Still, they were slightly clumsy making their way down. The door buzzed again, the same unique pattern.

Izuku reached his desk first, pressing his thumb to small square device linked to his computer. The door unlatched with a familiar clink and soon Inasa was stepping inside, “Pardon the intrusion, ‘Zuku, but we need to go.”

The inventor may not have had the details, but he knew when to be cautious. “First time we had lunch together?”

“Meat buns!” the hero said with a wide smile, “You only ate one, but I had six!”

Izuku smiled, “Wanna’ tell me what’s going on?”

Bakugou watched the exchange carefully, all too aware of the League’s pension for deception. Izuku, however, seemed satisfied, “The cavalry has arrived. I’ll contact you when we arrive at the safe house.”

“Got it,” Fat Gum confirmed before hanging up.

“The two most recent residents of Tartarus seem to have escaped,” Gale Force explained, fully entering the space and approaching Izuku for a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Mirage is waiting in the car, let’s pack you up quickly for the safe house.”

Izuku was clearly about to argue, but before Bakugou could even open his mouth the towering wind hero was ninja chopping the top of the scientist’s head, “Baka! Your safety comes first! Get your priorities in order!”

The scientist hissed in pain and clutched his head, “That hurt, Inasa! You dummy!”

“Somebody has to knock sense into you!” the hero replied, followed by his boisterous laughter.

“Oye, idiots!” Bakugou interrupted, “Let’s pack up and go.”

“Right!” Gale Force commanded, bodily shoving a pouting Izuku towards the staircase.

They moved quickly. Bakugou changed into his hero gear and then packed his new gym bag with clothing and necessities. He found the other two back downstairs when he emerged from his room. Izuku had abandoned his suit jacket and put on his sneakers in place of dress shoes. He too had packed a duffel but was now stuffing several smaller cases from his storage of prototypes into a second bag.

When he zipped up the second bag and hefted it onto his shoulder, Izuku looked to Katsuki, “Got everything?”

“Yup, let’s go.”

Gale Force took Izuku’s second bag, much to the scientist’s annoyance, and then commed over to Camie who was still waiting in the vehicle, “We’re about to leave, you ready?” They couldn’t hear her reply, but the hero’s sharp nod was enough to know they were clear to leave. “Go in a straight line from the door to the car, enter from the closest side, no talking,” he instructed.

The three men exited the building and Izuku, for the first time since Bakugou had been there, turned to punch a code into the little lock box by the door. There was a chime, a small flash of red light from the box, and then nothing. Izuku gave a thumbs up and a wide smile.

He had mentioned an alarm system at one point, Bakugou thought.

Gale Force got into the front seat of the sedan that was waiting for them as Izuku and Bakugou clambered into the back. Camie looked back from the driver’s seat, “Hey fam!”

“Hey Camie,” Izuku replied with a small smile, “please tell me we’re going somewhere decent.”

The blonde smiled widely, “Don’t worry, babe, ‘bout to head somewhere lit, hundo P.”

“I’ll trust you on that,” Izuku said, leaning back in his seat.

The blonde started the car, “Let’s go!”

“Shouldn’t we be worried about being followed?” Bakugou asked.

“Mirage has us covered!” Gale Force boasted.

“Camie’s illusion quirk is really useful for getaways,” Izuku said, “she used to help us ditch campus to go to clubs and stuff.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, “Didn’t realize the Shiketsu Dumbass Duo was actually a trio.”

Despite the situation, Izuku couldn’t help but giggle.

~~~~

The drive was long, but as far as Bakugou could tell it was because Camie was zig-zagging and going in circles—no doubt extra precautionary tactics to shake a tail. Or she was lost. They finally pulled into a traditional Japanese estate. Not overly grand, but nice enough to have a gated driveway. Waiting by the front door was Mei, dressed in pajamas and slippers.

“Seriously?” Bakugou asked, “This is the safe house?”

“Figured ZuZu would throw a fit otherwise,” Camie explained.

Inasa added, “And Hatsume is the best at dealing with Izuku’s bad moods!”

“I’m right here, you know,” Izuku muttered, opening his door.

They exited the car, each gathering their bag from the cabin or trunk. The pink haired woman was quick to have her arms around her fellow scientist, giving him a bear hug, “Glad you’re safe, Izuku.”

Izuku rolled his eyes but hugged her back nonetheless, “They aren’t going to barge into my home guns blazing the day they get out.”

“You can’t know that!” she chastised.

Izuku opened his mouth to argue, but Katsuki halted the argument there, “We shouldn’t just hang around outside. Wanna’ show us around?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Mei, “I’ve only got a couple rooms that can be used for guest rooms. So I put futons out, but you and Izuku will have to share if that’s alright.”

“Probably better,” Izuku said, quickly adding, “to keep a hero close by.”

Mei showed them around, giving a highlight tour of the home. It was shockingly old fashioned, complete with tatami mats and shōji. “Gotta’ say, Goggles,” Katsuki commented, “I didn’t think your house would be so—“

“Traditional?” she supplied. He grunted in response. Mei giggled, “It’s my family home. I have a small shop here, but I try to keep work at work.”

“Otherwise she’d burn her house down,” Izuku said with a snicker.

“Shut up, you walking safety violation!” Mei yelled, setting off a playful banter.

Seeing Izuku interact with his old friends startled Bakugou at times. More so, it struck a melancholic awareness of how much he’d missed. He shook off the feeling to focus on the present just as Mei slid open a door to a simple room.

“It’s not much, but your temporary bedroom is here. Camie and Inasa will be across the hall,” Mei said, sliding another door open and gesturing to the hero duo.

“Thank you!” Gale Force said enthusiastically, throwing his own bag down in the room. Camie placed hers down a bit more gently, but she didn’t linger. “I’ll take first shift, yo,” she declared.

Bakugou wouldn’t admit it to the other pros, but he was grateful to not take first watch. He was exhausted and still tipsy. So he quietly followed Izuku’s lead into their room and slid the thin barrier shut.

Izuku rummaged through his bag and retrieved a pair of athletic shorts and a white t-shirt. Bakugou pulled off his hero mask and gauntlets and reached into his own bag for pajama bottoms. He grabbed his toothbrush and realized he’d forgotten where the bathroom was. Turning to ask Izuku, the question died in his throat.

Izuku was shirtless. His pants undone, thumbs hooked into the waistband to tug them down, and Bakugou couldn’t prevent the whining noise that escaped him as his face flushed. The scientist stopped his motion, leaving his pants in place with the front of his boxers exposed. He tilted his head in confusion and then smirked.

God dammit.

The inventor ran his hand forward, his thumb tracing along the top of his boxers until his fingers were nearly to his crotch. Bakugou swallowed nervously, eyes glued to Izuku’s hand as his thumb slid into the waistband and tugged down just slightly, revealing more of his trim, green happy trail.

“Like what you see?”

Bakugou ripped his gaze away from Izuku’s crotch to look up at his face. Admittedly, it took a while to get there, distracted as he was by the planes of Izuku’s abs and chest. Midoriya’s face had returned to that careless confidence that made Katsuki weak at the knees and completely speechless.

“I asked you a question, Katsuki,” Izuku said, voice low as he moved closer to the hero. “Are you going to be a good boy and answer?”

“Question?” whispered Bakugou.

Izuku was close now, close enough to reach a hand out to Bakugou’s hip. That same thumb that had just been pulling his boxer down was now creeping up the tank of Bakugou’s costume, pressing warm circles into the divot of his hip bone. Katsuki closed his eyes, realizing his hands were shaking and his pants were getting tighter. “I asked if you like what you see,” Izuku said, close enough now they were almost chest to chest.

Bakugou nodded, eyes still firmly pressed shut.

Izuku brought his other hand up, softly cupping the hero’s jaw, fingers brushing along his neck. “Look at me, Katsuki,” he demanded softly.

The hero obeyed, willing himself to meet the verdant gaze focused on him.

“Say it.”

“I—I like…” he stuttered as Izuku’s thumb dipped just under his belt line.

“Like what?’

Katsuki’s mind was hazy. Between the exhaustion, champagne, and Izuku’s overwhelming presence, he’d already forgotten the original question. So, he answered the new question honestly.

“Like you,” he whispered, “I like you, Izuku.”

He didn’t miss the way Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise and for a brief, fleeting moment Katsuki thought he’d fucked up. But then, Izuku smiled—wide and brilliant and genuine.

“I like you too, Katsuki,” said Izuku, leaning in to kiss his hero. It was different than the one on the staircase, though Bakugou wasn’t sure if that was because they were both smiling like idiots or because the energy was different.

Before it could deepen into something more lustful, Inasa’s boisterous laugh pulled them apart. Right. “Thin walls,” he said, frustration and a touch of disappointment present in his voice.

Izuku chuckled, “We should probably be getting some sleep anyway.”

“Right, yeah,” Bakugou said, lifting his hand to wave the toothbrush he was still holding. “Where was the bathroom?”

~~~~

Katsuki woke up alone, but the sound of laughter down the hall told him they were still safe. He tuned in to the racket, smiling as he heard Izuku doing an imitation of Inasa only to have the bigger man attempt to imitate him in turn. The women clearly enjoying the poor attempts, howling with laughter.

Bakugou left the warmth of his blankets and followed the source of the noise, stomach rumbling when his nose picked up the savory aroma of bacon and pancake.

“Hey blasty!” Mei greeted from her place at the head of the table, “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Come join us!” Inasa said, patting an empty place next to him.

“That’s some bed head, yo,” Camie said, “I thought you styled it that way.”

Katsuki growled, “The fuck you tryin’ to say.”

Izuku laughed, “He’s just grumpy ‘cause his routine is all messed up.”

“His routine must always be messed up, then,” Mei chimed. Causing another eruption of laughter.

Bakugou clicked his tongue in annoyance, but found himself distracted by the plate of food Izuku was passing to him. “Mei’s an amazing cook,” said Midoriya, “I promise.”

He wasn’t wrong. Bakugou savored what had to be the fluffiest pancake he’d even eaten.

“Glad you like it,” Mei said with a smile, “I made ‘em from scratch! Family secret.”

“The secret is Bisquick,” Izuku said flatly.

“It is not! You ass!” Mei screeched, throwing a piece of fruit at him.

“Best stop throwin’ shade at the table, fam,” Camie said with a smile, “Gonna’ spoil the food.”

Inasa laughed, “I still can’t tell a difference between your slang and your idioms!”

“I’m just impressed you know what an idiom is,” Izuku said with a smirk.

The towering hero ninja chopped him again, “What were you just told about throwing shade!?”

More peals of laughter spilled into the space. Bakugou smiled, watching the friends enjoy each other’s company. It was a different side of Izuku, one he enjoyed and hoped to see more of. Sure it was noisy, but the smile on Izuku’s face made it worth the annoyance.

Chapter 12: Day 17

Notes:

Still alive!

This chapter is all over the place, not gonna lie, but it has an important plot point! Hopefully it's enjoyable to read. :)

Katsuki stared at the rubber duck in the fridge and felt his building frustration begin to simmer. Little bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot to pop in the form of small twitches of the eye and clenching fists.

Three days.

He’d been stuck in Mei’s paper thin house with Shiketsu’s dumbass duo trio for three days. He pulled the offending duck from the fridge and tossed it in the direction of the kitchen sink, refusing to admit that he’d technically just played into their weird dorm room game, and then leaned towards the lower shelf for a sports drink.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said, smirk evident in his voice as he squeezed past the blonde’s rear end, hand brushing over his hips. “Here I came for some water and got this pleasant view instead.”

Katsuki tried not to shiver at the touch, tried not to think about the trail of heat where Izuku’s body had brushed past his—far closer than was strictly necessary. The hero knew the second he stood up, Izuku would be on him, doing his best to get his blood pumping, only to get interrupted again.

Izuku had to know how frustrated Katsuki was at this point. The little shit kept teasing and flirting and now that they could touch each other it was even worse when Izuku would shift moods and scamper off to hang with his friends because, “Kacchan, do you really want them listening in on us the first time we’re intimate?” Then Bakugou would get flustered and blush ferociously and Izuku would tease him and call him a virgin.

For the record, he was most definitely not a virgin. He’d fooled around when he was still at UA, figuring out what he liked—even had a few semi-serious relationships after high school. In the end, Katsuki was too dedicated to his work to ever keep a partner.

Something about Izuku seemed to just halt Katsuki’s brain functions. He’d shift tones, lean in close, whisper something dirty, ghost his hand along the hero’s body and Bakugou would be absolutely gone. The inventor knew how to turn him into putty in his hands and it came across as if Katsuki was just flustered due to lack of experience.

Every partner Bakugou had ever had let him take the lead. Expected him to, even. He took the lead everywhere else, so why not the bedroom too? And Katsuki was fine with that. Perfectly satisfied. No problems to report.

Izuku had hit him with a surprise uppercut of sex appeal and confidence that Katsuki had no idea what to do with. He’d never been on the receiving end of that kind of attention. So what if it’s a little overwhelming?

A squeaky honking noise next to his ear pulled him out of his reverie, causing him to jolt upright as Izuku giggled and waggled the little rubber duck at him. “Earth to Kacchan, you get lost in there?”

Katsuki sighed, pushing both the refrigerator door shut and the rubber duck away from his face, “Sick of seeing this stupid fucking duck is all.”

The inventor rolled his eyes, “Then put it somewhere hard to find. Not only will it stop popping up everywhere, but you’ll get the glory of being a Master Duck Hider.”

“Cause that’s gonna boost my fucking ranking,” Bakugou snarked, twisting the cap off his beverage. As he turned his attention to quenching his thirst, he could see Izuku fidgeting beside him, turning the little rubber duck in his hands and shifting his eyes away from Katsuki—nervously dancing in his space. “You gotta’ pee or you wanna say something?”

Izuku jolted to a stop and then took in a deep breath, “You seem upset and I want to ask if you’re okay but I don’t want to push you like last time and start a fight and so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do and—“

Katsuki moved without thinking, his free hand moving to cup Izuku’s cheek and tilt his head up so he could lean down and kiss him into silence. He pulled his face back but didn’t move away, making a point to lock his eyes onto Izuku’s. “It’s okay to ask, so long as you’re willing to accept that sometimes the answer may be that I’m not ready to talk.”

“Oh,” Izuku said smartly, “Then, is Kacchan okay? You seem upset.”

“I’m just,” Katsuki sighed and set his bottle down, stepping backward to pinch at the bridge of his nose, “pent up.”

Izuku didn’t say anything in response, but a quick glance confirmed he had that smarmy smirk paired with an arched eyebrow that, when combined, let Katsuki know he had at least five different puns or bad pick-up lines running through his head.

“Shut up,” said Bakugou.

“I didn’t say anything,” Izuku pretended to pout.

Bakugou scoffed, putting his palms on the counter and leaning forward slightly, stretching out his neck in an effort to ease the tension building there.

Izuku seemed to have taken this as an invitation. He moved into Katsuki’s space, his chest up against Katsuki’s back, hands at his hip—one sneaking its way into Bakugou’s shirt. “I could help you with that, you know,” said Izuku before beginning to kiss along the hero’s spine—a touch too short to really get at Katsuki’s neck.

This was normally the part where Katsuki melted.

“Oh no you don’t,” Bakugou said, whirling on the inventor, snatching his wrists and quickly moving their bodies so that Izuku’s backside was pressed against the counter. The hero placed Izuku’s palms on the counter on either side, “You and your wandering hands are the problem, jackass.”

Izuku seemed completely taken aback, his mouth agape and eyes wide as he stared at Katsuki. “What did I do?” he asked, as if entirely shocked by the accusation. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself every time I’ve—“

Katsuki shut him up by kissing him, much harsher this time, more tongue, a nip at Izuku’s bottom lip for good measure. He pulled back once Midoriya’s breathing had begun to pick up. “How about I show you my problem, huh? Keep these here,” he commanded, placing a tiny bit of pressure on the back of Izuku’s hands.

“Sure thing, boss,” Izuku quipped, only managing to piss off Katsuki more.

The blond went to work, finally moving at his own pace. His hands made their way to Izuku’s hips, his thumb teasingly moving under his shirt to touch bare skin as moved his lips to the scientist’s pulse point.

Judging from the content little sigh and tilt of his head, Izuku was enjoying the warm feel of Katsuki’s kisses as he moved up to the juncture of his neck and jaw. The hero let one hand skim upwards, he’d learned a long time ago that if heated his hands ever so slightly he got more of a reaction from his bed partners. This proved true for Izuku too as he took in a sharp breath at Katsuki’s movement.

The hero felt true victory when he brushed over Izuku’s nipple and heard an actual whimper escape the man’s lips. Katsuki brought both hands down quickly, grabbing Izuku’s thighs and lifting his legs so that he was forced to put his weight on his hands and wrap his legs around Katsuki.

With careful precision, the blond ground his hips up into Izuku—delighted by the moan the inventor let slip as Katsuki put pressure against his growing problem.

And then Katsuki’s phone rang and he couldn’t have possibly planned his revenge to be better. “Sorry babe,” he whispered into Izuku’s ear, “gotta take that.”

“God dammit, Kacchan,” Izuku whined as he let his legs fall back to the ground, “get back here and—“

“Besides,” Katsuki grinned as he pulled his cell from his pocket, “wouldn’t want your friends to overhear our first time together.”

Izuku’s scowl was worth whatever torture the genius would come up with later. For now, the hero adjusted himself in his pants as he finally answered the call, “Talk.”

“Bakugou-sama, er, Ground Zero, sir?” asked the man on the line.

“Yeah?”

“My name is Jsobe Daisuke, I’m with the Hero Commission’s testing and recruitment department.”

Katsuki quickly went from half listening so he could continue to gloat at Izuku to paying full attention. He’d submitted a referral for the inventor to take hero licensing exams a week ago but wasn’t sure when he’d hear a response.

Izuku, noting the shift, sighed and silently stalked out of the room to leave Katsuki to his work--rubber duck in hand.

“Is this about my referral?” Bakugou asked the caller.

“Yes, sir, it is,” he replied, “We were surprised to see you’d referred someone at all, to be honest.”

“Not my usual thing,” the hero agreed, “Do you need more information?”

“Well, that’s…” the man hesitated, “When I first saw your form, I was impressed. He sounds like a perfect candidate in my opinion.”

“But?”

“When I tried to register him into the licensing examination his name was flagged. Apparently he’s been barred from taking the exams.”

“The fuck?”

“Please let me explain!” the man said, “I was confused myself, so I did some digging.”

“And?”

“You see, there are only a few reasons someone can be barred from the exams. Most of them have to do with crimes or mental stability.”

Bakugou flinched, Fuck! Are they seriously using his past attempts to prevent him from even taking the exams?

“It seems that Midoriya-sama has been given a gold-flag.”

“And that means?” Bakugou asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, right, he’s too important.”

“Come again?”

“Basically high ranking Hero Commission personnel or government officials can gold-flag individuals who are considered high-ranking assets to the country. It prevents them from entering the dangerous field of heroics and risking that asset be damaged.”

Katsuki’s palms were sparking and he was suddenly very grateful for the specialized phone case Mei had given him years ago. He could feel his face flood red, this time with anger, as his muscles tensed and his jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.

“Sir? Are you still there, Ground Zero, sir?”

“Do they know?”

“I’m sorry?”

“These gold flag people. Are they told?”

“I’m not sure on the exact protocol sir, but legally I don’t think they have to be notified.”

“That’s—“ Bakugou growled, “completely fucked.”

“Sir?”

“What was your name again?”

“Jsobe Daisuke, sir.”

“Thanks,” Katsuki grit out before ending the call and throwing his phone down.

Bakugou wasn’t sure he could remember a time he was so infuriated. He wanted to scream and beat the shit out of something or someone or at the very least blow something up, but he was stuck inside Mei’s old-fashioned house with it’s extremely flammable, thin walls.

What was he supposed to tell Izuku?

~~~~

“Back up, you did what?” Mei asked, arms akimbo as she scrunched up her face in confusion.

“I referred Izuku for the hero licensing exams.”

“Why?” asked Camie from her spot on the sofa.

Next to her, Inasa nodded, “I am also curious.”

“Shut up so I can explain,” said Bakugou, “We don’t have much time till he’s out of his shower.”

“Right, go ahead.”

“So, Izuku is a lot more capable than he lets on. You two helped train him in high school, right?” he asked, to which Camie and Inasa nodded, “And he’s continued to keep up with it. I watched him spar with Kirishima—Red Riot—and get the guy on the defensive. And twice now he’s calmly handled a battle with a League member like it was nothing. I’m not sure I could've even captured Dabi without his calm, quick thinking and preparedness.”

“Okay,” said Mei, “so you referred him. Why are we panicking then?”

“Because I got a call today from the guy who deals with registering referrals for exams and he said Izuku was gold-flagged.”

“No clue what that means,” said Camie, “but go off, I guess.”

“I looked it up,” Katsuki said, “It’s this twenty year old law that the Commission uses to ban people considered a valuable asset to the country from taking exams. And they don’t even have to notify the person. From what I read, it's how the Commission is butting into Izuku's personal affairs so much in the first place.”

“That’s…” Mei said, her face twisted into one of horror and disgust.

“Sus?” Camie said, "I'm shook."

“Agreed,” Inasa said, none of his usual joy present, “Poor Izuku.”

“Poor me, what?” Izuku asked from the doorway, causing the four of them to jump. When they all immediately avoided eye contact instead of yelling at him, the scientist knew something was very wrong. “What happened? Did the League do something? Is my mom okay? My shop?”

Bakugou moved quickly, pulling Izuku’s hands into his own, “Nothing like that,” he assured before Izuku could work himself into a panic.

“You—you’re sure?”

“Yeah,” said Bakugou, “I just… Remember that phone call earlier?”

“The one you were super pissed off about all day?”

“It was about my referral for you to take the hero exams,” Bakugou explained before hesitating, “Look, maybe you should sit down.”

Izuku’s green eyes scanned over the others, he could read the room clearly enough, “They denied the request.” He pulled his hands away from Katsuki’s, letting his arms wrap around himself, “Not exactly the first time. Shouldn’t be surprised,” he tried to laugh, a forced smile on his face.

“It’s more than that, ‘Zuku,” said Mei.

“What?” Izuku questioned, “What are they—they’re not reassigning Katsuki are they?” He turned to look at Bakugou, who only shook his head.

They were all silent, no one feeling brave enough to tell him what they’d learned.

“You guys are starting to scare me,” Izuku forced another laugh, “even Inasa has frown lines.”

Mei sighed heavily and then forced herself to take a deep breath, “They’ve apparently flagged you under some old law, putting restrictions on you.”

Izuku furrowed his brow, turning to Katsuki for clarification.

“You’re too big an asset to risk putting in danger,” Katsuki explained, “so they’ve barred you from taking the exams.”

“An… an asset?” Izuku repeated. “They didn’t even… how can they—“

“It’s some law from decades ago,” said Katsuki, who finally managed to make eye contact with the inventor, “I’m sorry, Izuku.”

Midoriya stepped further away, anger now settling in and visibly shaking his frame, “Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry. I don’t want… I just need… I… I’m--I can’t breathe.” He finally settled on.

“Panic attack,” Mei said, moving across the room to get closer to Izuku who had sat down on the floor, head between his knees, sucking in deep breaths that seemed to do nothing for him. “There’s a weighted blanket in my room, someone else go get a cold bottle of water.”

The Shiketsu hero duo were quick to follow orders, moving to go fetch the items Mei had demanded. Katsuki felt useless as he watched Mei run soothing fingers through Izuku’s hair, “Breathe with me, ‘Zuku. Let’s go in through the nose one, two, three. Hold it, two, three. Out through the mouth, one, two, three.”

Izuku shook his head violently, a sob wracking his body as his fingers clutched angrily at his bare calves, nails leaving crescent shaped bite marks in his skin. Mei continued her counts and motions, even though it didn’t seem like Izuku was doing a stellar job of following along.

“Bakugou,” Inasa said, reentering the room, “here.” He handed over a cold water bottle and the blanket, “We’ll wait in another room. Best not to crowd him.”

“Right, thanks,” Katsuki said, but a part of him felt as though he should be the one leaving. Inasa probably knew how to handle this situation. Katsuki had only ever had the one panic attack and he didn’t remember it being this forceful.

Still though, he handed the bottle to Mei who forced it into one of Izuku’s hands, “Hold it to your face, c’mon,” she coached. This direction Izuku did manage to follow, his fingers released his legs to grip at the plastic bottle that flexed under the force of his shaking hands.

Bakugou draped the blanket over Izuku’s back, looking to Mei for confirmation. She gave a short nod with a small, comforting smile.

“’Zuku?”” Mei asked, earning a strange grunt in response. “Blasty and I are the only ones in the room with you. Do you want us both or just one of us?”

Izuku didn’t look up but sobbed out a broken, “One.”

Katsuki stepped back, turning to leave as Mei asked, “Me or your boyfriend?”

“Kacchan.”

“Okie dokie,” said Mei, “we’ll be in the other room, okay? Have Blasty tell us when you go to sleep, got it?”

Izuku’s nodded his head, disoriented and sloppy as Mei ran her fingers through his curls one more time before standing up.

Bakugou couldn’t help his own rising panic, “Mei, I don’t know—“ he began to whisper.

“Just sit with him,” she directed, “he’ll calm down after a while. This is a big one, he’ll fall asleep after, most likely.”

With that parting advice, Mei left the two men alone. Katsuki sat beside Izuku and draped his arm over the other man’s back, letting his hands sink into Izuku’s curls like Mei’s had. He almost pulled back when Izuku responded with a full body shudder but then he was leaning into Katsuki.

“Can you breathe with me?” Katsuki said, repeating Mei’s words, “In through the nose for one, two, three…”

Chapter 13: Day 18

Notes:

Hey guys!!

Soooo sorry about the sudden hiatus. There's been... a lot. Just, a lot going on in the US and I've been trying to keep my mental and physical health stable.

Anywho, new chapter is here! It's got some humor, some smut, some plot, the works. I'll be finishing this story up soon--should only need one or two more chapters!!

Katsuki woke to the soft tap tapping of a keyboard. The night before he’d sat with Izuku until the scientist cried himself to sleep, then the hero had carried the other man to their shared room.

Now, the hero could feel the warmth of Izuku’s body close to his and with the crack of an eyelid he could see the inventor had pulled his tablet and wireless keyboard to the edge of their futon. He laid on his belly, propped up on his elbows as he typed.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Katsuki wriggled up closer to Izuku and wrapped an arm around the other’s torso, pulling his chest up to the warm body next to him and wedging his head under Izuku’s arm so that he could burrow his face into Izuku's chest.

Izuku hummed, one hand moving away from his keyboard to stroke through the hero’s blond hair. “Morning, Kacchan” Izuku said softly, as if uncertain if the hero was actually awake.

Katsuki, not normally one to stay in bed, grunted in reply and snuggled in closer causing Izuku to giggle. After witnessing Izuku’s panic attack the night before, the joyful sound loosened a tension in his shoulders that Katsuki didn’t realize he’d been holding. He smiled into Izuku’s t-shirt, hoisting one leg up and over Izuku’s, “Still asleep.”

The scientist let out a soft snort and targeted his scratching in the space behind Katsuki’s ear before cooing at him, “What a sleepy puppy I have, aww.”

The hero kicked out slightly, bopping the other’s calve, “Not a fucking dog."

“Definitely a PTSD therapy dog, even worked through a panic attack with me.”

“Too early for this shit,” Katsuki groaned.

“It’s like ten in the morning.”

Katsuki growled in response, refusing to move from the warm spot he’d found.

“Mmm’kay, Mr. Not-a-dog,” Izuku teased before retracting his hand from Bakugou’s hair and returning to his tablet.

For a little while, Katsuki chose to simply enjoy the peaceful moment. It seemed like he had so few of these in his life… well, he’d certainly had more since this assignment began. This too made him smile and he opened his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly to look up at Izuku. The scientist was focused on his task, not noticing the other watching him quietly whisper to himself or habitually scratch under his eye when he was thinking.

“What are working on?” Katsuki finally asked.

“Just reading,” said Izuku, “wanted to know more about the flag thing.”

“Oh,” Katsuki said dumbly, stomach twisting sharply.

“I’m going to fight it, I think,” said Izuku, “but I have to know more about it first. It’s crazy what they can limit for me.”

“Oh yeah?” asked the hero, feeling a bit of hope that Izuku was putting that brilliant mind against this road block, “Like what?”

“Well, the major thing is preventing certain jobs, right? But they can also prevent me from travelling to certain foreign countries, moving to certain domestic cities, I can’t emigrate—even if I wanted to go to I-Island, I wouldn’t be able to—and it gives them essentially a continuous open warrant into my personal files, home, blah, blah, blah. Doesn’t mess with my patents though, as far as I can tell.”

“That’s—“ Katsuki blew out a huff of air, not sure where to begin.

“I never realized what they were doing because I haven’t really done anything that would have triggered it before. I thought a lot of the health stuff and therapy and what not had been because of my history and part of Commission protocol but it’s not.”

“So how are you going to fight it?”

“I’ve been contacting attorneys, getting some information,” Izuku answered, looking down to meet Katsuki’s eyes, “Not really my normal thing, but I basically have to file a lawsuit against the government.”

The hero smirked, “You’re such a badass.”

Izuku smiled brightly, “Thanks, Kacchan!”

Katsuki yawned, turning his head back to a more comfortable position: face squished into Izuku’s chest. He listened as Izuku returned to his tablet, whispered words and soft hums indicating his thinking. Bakugou began drifting, not quite asleep but not fully awake either.

“Oh,” Izuku said, rousing Katsuki, “My mom and most of Japan think we’re dating.”

“Aren’t we?” Katsuki replied sleepily.

“Are we?”

Katsuki opened his eyes again, pulling back enough to see Izuku’s face hovering above him, head tilted curiously. “We haven’t really discussed it,” said Izuku, “I mean, I know there’s physical chemistry and I, um, well, I really like having you around and I guess we have gone out for a few meals together and shopping but I’m not sure those counted as dates and—“

“You’re rambling, ya’ damn nerd.”

Izuku snapped his mouth shut, puffing out his cheeks and looking away, a slight blush on his cheekbones.

“Midoriya Izuku, I’d like to date you.”

Izuku smiled brightly, shifting himself to lean back and kiss Katsuki quickly, “Okay, Kacchan!” He paused, head tilting as he asked, “Does that make us boyfriends?”

“Fucking 'course it does,” Katsuki blurted.

“Huh,” Izuku replied thoughtfully, leaning back so that he was more or less sitting on his legs (though Katsuki still had one leg wrapped around his, so he was rather crooked), “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

The hero was dumbfounded. He blinked owlishly and waited for Izuku add a punchline but it never happened. “Hah!?” he questioned.

“I mean, I’ve hooked up with people,” Izuku replied, “definitely know my way around a bedroom but, I’ve never dated anyone. Kacchan’s my first boyfriend!”

“How?” Katsuki asked eloquently.

“I have the Grindr app on my tablet,” Izuku provided helpfully.

“No, not—“ Katsuki struggled to sit up, yanking his leg unceremoniously from under Izuku’s butt. “How have you never had a boyfriend?”

“Oh! ‘Cause I’m weird and a workaholic?”

The hero blinked dumbly at him.

“Is something wrong?” Izuku asked, “If it’s about my history, I actually wore protection and stuff and I get tested. Catching something would slow down work and—“

Katsuki reached out and placed his fingers on Izuku’s lips to shush him. The scientist silenced himself, eyes wide and glued to the hero’s. “You are smart,” Katsuki said, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on Izuku’s lips, “and brave,” another kiss, “and strong,” he punctuated with another kiss, “and funny,” he continued, pulling back from yet another kiss, “and—“

“I get it,” said Izuku, “my puppy really likes me,” he teased leaning in himself to give a much longer kiss.

“Not a dog, asshole,” Katsuki complained, though the effect was lost from the persistent way they continued to kiss. Their hands moving up to touch at each other’s faces and arms, just beginning to feel the familiar heat of intimacy when the ever-present sound of the other house guests rang out down the hall.

Katsuki flopped back onto the ground with an annoyed groan, “Fuuuck me!” he whined.

“Anytime,” Izuku said, chasing his boyfriend’s lips with his own, taking the extra effort to throw the blankets aside and swing a leg over to straddle Katsuki’s hips. He let his hands wander over the hero’s chest as his lips wandered over the blond’s neck, mapping out his favorite spots.

“God damn it, Izuku,” the hero groused, “don’t start shit you can’t finish.”

Izuku hummed, his hands moving to the hem of Katsuki’s tank. His lips continued to work at the sensitive skin at the hero’s pulse point as one hand slid up to graze over a pebbled nipple while the other hand dipped lower, thumb breaching under Katsuki’s pants and underwear and just barely missing the base of a quickly hardening cock.

“Don’t—ah, don’t tease,” Katsuki growled, “s’not nice.”

The scientist pinched experimentally at Katsuki’s nipple as his tongue traced over the shell of the hero’s ear. “Don’t worry, pup,” he promised, “I won’t leave you all riled up.”

Katsuki moaned at the touch, volume raising when Izuku properly gripped his cock, his clever, calloused fingers pulling it loose from the confine of pajama bottoms and underwear alike.

“Gotta’ be a good boy,” Izuku instructed again, kissing down his jaw line, “you have to be quiet.” The inventor sat up, the hand on Katsuki’s chest dragging itself back down over his stomach as the other gave a firm stroke over the hero’s shaft.

Kastuski whimpered. He didn’t even know he could make that noise, but he’d been wanting this so badly for so long and Izuku was using that voice .

“Look at me, Katsuki.”

He wasn't sure when he'd scrunched his eyes closed, but now he willed them open as the man on top of him thumbed over the slit of his dick and pulled a drop of pre back down over the frenulum. His amber eyes met Izuku’s viridian ones and he struggled not to throw his head back with another moan at the sight of the inventor’s hungry gaze.

“You want to be a good boy, don't you Katsuki?”

The blond nodded eagerly, gritting his teeth against another moan trying to escape his throat.

“I know you do,” Izuku continued, retreating down the length of Katsuki’s body and letting his hand grip the base of the cock he’d been stroking. “You just have to be nice and quiet,” he instructed, mouth hovering above Katsuki’s cock, eyes still locked on amber, “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” the blond hissed, nodding again while his hands twisted to grip at the futon. He damn near bit his tongue off trying to suppress the deep moan that tried to escape when Izuku sank down onto him, taking half his shaft in one go. He had to bring a hand up to his own mouth to stifle the noise he couldn't hold back.

Izuku was a engineering genius, Katsuki knew. But his talents clearly weren’t limited to the workshop. The hero panted, his free hand flying to Izuku’s curls as he felt the man’s nose brush against his pelvis. He chanced a glance down to find Izuku still staring right back, eyes watery and lips spit soaked as he worked his mouth over the length of Katsuki’s cock. Izuku pressed at his hips, an encouraging motion forward that prompted Katsuki to thrust slightly. He was rewarded with a delighted hum and began thrusting in earnest, fucking Izuku’s throat while desperately trying to keep himself from releasing sounds of pleasure.

He tipped over the edge when he glimpsed the movement of Izuku’s arm, hand jerking himself off as he pleasured Katsuki. The hero tried to warn him, pulled at his curls to lift the inventor’s head off, but the scientist insistently stayed on to lave his tongue along the underside of his shaft and swallowed hungrily when Katsuki spilled over.

Katsuki felt boneless but he’d always been a giving lover; so rather than fall back and let Izuku finish himself off, he sat up and scooted so that Izuku was kneeling in front of him between his knees. He reached out to take over Izuku’s ministrations. The green haired man leaned forward, resting his arms over Katsuki’s shoulders and dangling his head so that his panting seemed to echo in Katsuki’s ears.

The hero damn near got hard again when he registered the praise Izuku was whispering, “Good boy, yes, so good Katsuki. So perfect for me, so good,” he rambled until reaching his climax with gritted teeth to avoid making too much noise.

The two flopped back down onto the futon, wrapped around each other as they caught their breath.

“That was,” Katsuki began, but simply hummed instead of completing the thought.

Izuku giggled, “You get to claim another first.”

“Huh?”

“Never swallowed before,” Izuku said, “or went down without a condom.”

Katsuki guffawed slightly, “Boyfriend privileges fucking rock.”

“Nah,” said Izuku, sitting up to smirk at him, “you’re just that good of a PTSD babysitter dog.”

The hero launched himself forward, hands reaching to Izuku’s side to tickle mercilessly, “Not a dog, ya damn nerd!”

Izuku laughed, attempting and failing to maneuver away, “But you were such a good boy!” he replied, earning a growl from Bakugou as he furthered his assault.

“Oye! Lovebirds!” Mei yelled from outside the far too thin door, “Get your asses out here, Kirishima’s here to visit!”

Bakugou was still as a statue, face red as he considered what Mei had heard to alert her they were awake. Izuku grimaced, “Eww, Kacchan, you got cum all over my shirt.”

“It’s your cum, dumbass.”

~~~~

The two emerged from their room after wiping down and changing into clean clothing. Bakugou had their linens and clothes bundled up to wash, but he’d have to figure out where the hell Mei’s washer and dry were hidden. A quick pit-stop at the bathrooms and they were ready to join the others.

“If you keep blushing, they’re gonna know what we were doing,” Izuku said, poking at Katsuki’s face with a smirk.

“I’m not blushing!” the hero denied.

The inventor snorted at him, “Then in you must have gotten one of those rare, indoor sunburns.”

Katsuki swatted him away with annoyance, moving away and down the hall towards the little living room space the others tended to lounge in. Izuku trailed behind happily.

“Bakubro!” greeted Kirishima when they entered the room, “I didn’t know you even knew how to sleep in!”

The blond crossed his arms, “Not my fault this dweeb keeps a shitty schedule.”

“Izuku joined us for breakfast,” Mei said contrarily, a scheming grin on her face.

“Did I ask you!?” Bakugou yelled, a threatening stream of pops along his palms for emphasis.

They ignored him in favor of Izuku who’d turned his attention to their guest, “What brings you here, Eijiro? Work or fun?”

“A little of both,” he replied, shark teeth exposed in a smile. “Officially I’m here because Fat Gum asked me to deliver this to Ground Zero,” he said, holding up an envelope. “Apparently you’ve got an interview to go to! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Izuku while you take care of it.”

Katsuki snatched the envelope to begin perusing the contents.

“And unofficially?” Midoriya asked.

“I wanted to bring you some reading material!” he answered, tossing a magazine at the inventor.

Bakugou glanced over with curiosity to see Izuku holding a gossip magazine, their photo on the front cover. “The fuck is that shit?” he asked, stealing it from Izuku’s hands and holding the smaller man back so he could read it before it was snatched back. “Japan’s new power couple?” he read, “hah?”

Kirishima and Mei laughed openly, “Dude! Haven’t you seen? After your entrance at the gala, everyone went nuts!”

“Whad’ya mean?” Katsuki asked, giving Izuku an opportunity to snatch the magazine back. He flipped through the pages quickly and found a spread with photos of them arriving at the gala, hand-in-hand and smiles on their faces.

“Look Kacchan!” he said, holding it up for his boyfriend, “This is the same picture my mom sent when she asked if we’re dating!”

The picture was, much to Katsuki’s annoyance, kind of perfect. It’d been snapped during his red carpet stunt when he’d pulled Izuku close and tickled him while waving at the camera. Izuku’s face was scrunched with joy and laughter, his smile wide and bright, while Katsuki was looking down at him with soft eyes and dopey grin. It was far from his normal image in the press.

“Oh yeah, that’s the pic!” Mei added, “It’s a meme now.”

“Another one?” Izuku asked with happy curiosity; Bakugou yelled, outraged, “Another fucking meme?”

Kirishima had his phone out in a flash, “Oh yeah, it’s great.” He turned his phone for the couple to take. He’d pulled up an article explaining the meme; at the top was the same image cropped so their faces took up more of the frame. It was captioned, “Someone finally noticed.” The meme however was the same picture with variations where Izuku was labeled as “me” and Katsuki was labeled as mundane things such as “The teacher noticing I raised my hand,” “My crush noticing my haircut,” “Dentist noticed I flossed,” and “Santa Claus putting my name on the nice list.”

A couple examples had clever twists where Izuku was labeled “my parents” and Katsuki was “me doing chores w/o being asked.” The hero’s particular favorite labeled Izuku as “literally any other hero” and Katsuki as “All Might.”

“There’s also a couple trending hashtags,” Kirishima added, “uh, let me think, there’s JTesla, SoftGZ, and—“

“Heartexplosion,” Mei provided, “I saw this morning and laughed til I died.”

“You seem pretty fucking alive to me,” Katsuki griped, “The fuck is a heart explosion?”

Beside him, Izuku cooed, “This is beautiful.” Then he snorted and began laughing.

The blond looked at the phone screen, the scientist had searched for the hashtag and found a veritable gold mine of images of the ever fierce and volatile Ground Zero looking… soft and nice. They nearly all appeared to be images fans had snuck over the years: Katsuki staring off into space at a restaurant, Katsuki laughing at another hero’s joke, Katsuki giving a kid a fist bump, Katsuki helping a victim during the aftermath of a fight.

Mixed in, however, there were other photos taken from battles: Katsuki grimacing, scowling, or yelling—all gums and teeth and sharp eyes—with poorly photo-shopped emoji hearts exploding from his hands in place of his explosions.

“What. The. Fuck.” he asked flatly.

“Apparently some reporter claimed the gala was the first time you ever smiled or showed a soft side,” Kirishima explained, beginning to giggle like a child, “and your fans went rabid and posted all the softGZ pictures, and then someone made a joke about your explosions being full of love.”

“The internet took it from there,” Mei said, “Gotta love the internet.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Katsuki repeated. He’d built his reputation as a ruthless badass for a decade and now he was… exploding hearts out of his hand like a magic anime girl or some shit?

“On the plus side,” Kirishima said, “It’s landed you a prime-time, live interview. People want to know more about you! This will be a huge boost to your ranking!”

“That’s great, Kacchan!”

Katsuki hummed thoughtfully, “You said it was a live interview?”

“Yup!” Kirishima answered.

The blond hero looked over to Izuku and smiled—his best I-have-an-unbeatable-battle-plan-smirk, “I have one condition.”

Chapter 14: Day 20

Notes:

Ahhh!! Another chapter after a long hiatus.

This chapter is super plotty, but the final chapter will finally give the guys time to blow off some steam and relieve some tension. ;)

The ride to the studio was uncharacteristically silent. Mirage and Gale Force were seated in the front of the cabin while Izuku and Katsuki sat in the back, each passenger focusing on their own thoughts. When Camie pulled into the underground lot of the studio building and parked in the designated guest parking, there was a still moment of tension.

Midoriya broke the silence, “It’s not too late for you all to back out. I’m sure the commission is going to be upset and I don’t want to hurt your rankings…”

“Shut up, ya damn nerd!” Bakugou instructed, opening his door, “Fuck the rankings!”

Inasa laughed, the tension seeming to evaporate from them all, “Ground Zero is right! Today we’re here to support our friend!”

“Hundo P,” Camie agreed, “We’re here for the GOAT,” she added, turning off the ignition and following Bakugou’s lead out of the car.

Officially, Ground Zero was supposed to be attending the interview alone. The Commission had given strict orders to keep Midoriya at his safe location with Mei under the protection of Mirage, Gale Force, and Red Riot. After all, it was a live interview and the scientist was a target of the League. The villains had thus far remained at bay, suspiciously quiet after the escape. Izuku theorized it was because they were trying to dismantle the Quirk Suppression Implants that Dabi and Toga had been fitted with, the others suspected far more nefarious plans.

Whatever the case, the Pro Heroes were directly disobeying Commission directives, risking their rankings and licenses.

The news network itself had been eager to assist, as noted by the assistant now approaching their car. “Good evening,” he greeted with a polite bow, “I’m Fujiwara Ren. We spoke on the phone.”

“Mad-suspect though,” Camie addressed him, “prove it.”

“Ah, yes,” Fujiwara cleared his throat, “The rubber duck is in the tank of the toilet.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” Bakugou yelled, “Izuku, you snitch!”

“Lit!” Camie cheered, as Inasa chastised, “Izuku! What kind of code phrase is that?”

Midoriya was nearly doubled over laughing.

“Knock it off!” Bakugou demanded, “Let’s get moving!”

Fujiwara, a true professional, maintained a straight face despite his confusion, “Yes, right this way please.” He directed them into an employee elevator and used his keycard to get it moving. “The space in the studio is limited, Gale Force will be stationed at the ground level lobby. The rest of you will join us at the studio on the third floor.”

They deposited Gale Force to patrol the buildings entry and continued their way up the building. “Fujiwara-sama?” Midoriya asked, “We were told this studio didn’t have much of dressing room. Are we, uh, appropriately dressed?”

Fujiwara took a moment to review their attire. Ground Zero was in his hero gear, minus his mask, as the studio had requested. They’d asked Midoriya to dress casually, wanting to appear as unplanned as possible—the inventor was in loose jeans, red sneakers, an unbuttoned grey flannel over a black t-shirt that read “Lab Coat”.

“Roll up your sleeves,” Fujiwara directed Midoriya, just as the elevator opened for their floor, “And if you have it, Ground Zero should put some eye liner on.”

“Who just carries eye liner around in their hero gear?” Bakugou spat, but Camie handed a short pen over, “I got you, fam.”

“Not even going to ask why,” the explosive hero grumbled as he snatched the makeup from her hand.

The group followed their guide through the halls and to their studio space. They hadn’t lied about it being a small space. It was a black-box set up—black flooring and walls, with minimal decoration. The set consisted of a small, round coffee table, a plush white armchair for the interviewer, and a matching two-seat sofa for the guest. There was no audience space, just room for the camera man, director, and other crew members to stand off camera.

The interviewer was Sato Chidori, a well-known hero correspondent. She’d started her career covering battles from a helicopter and grown into one of the leading names in media when it came to hard-hitting hero news. She wasn’t a gossip hound, but a highly praised journalist. An interview with her was recognition in the media of a future top-ten hero, and today she was sitting down with Ground Zero.

The woman herself was standing on set, reviewing her notes. She was a petite woman, standing at 5’6” with stilettos on. She wore a deep navy pant suit over a simple cream colored button-down. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. A pair of reading glasses sat on her nose, her only accessory aside from her wedding bands. Despite her size, Sato was an intimidating figure.

Midoriya set to fixing his sleeves and Camie reclaimed her eye-liner from Bakugou, “No mirrors, hold still,” she said in explanation as she grabbed the other hero’s chin to pull his face closer to her eye level.

“It’s a shame you’re gay,” came a comment from the other side of the set. Bakugou pulled back to glare at the guilty party, but found Sato staring him down, “My daughter would have loved you.”

Midoriya giggled, “Sorry ma’am! I saw him first!” he said as Camie grabbed Bakugou’s chin again, “Hold still!”

The journalist laughed, stepping closer to where the trio had congregated. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting you on my set,” she said to Midoriya, “I’ve wanted to interview you for years.”

“Really?” Midoriya asked, tilting his head with interest.

“The studio never gets a response when we message you directly, and the Commission,” she rolled her eyes, “Heaven forbid someone ask you about your work.”

“Ah,” Izuku scratched at his freckles, “I’m really bad with my emails.”

Camie released Bakugou’s face, smiling at her work, “Boy, slay.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to their host, “This interview better not turn into a fucking pat on the back.”

“Are you kidding?” Sato replied with a raised eyebrow, “I only cover new information—breaking news is what I do. When I saw how much attention you were getting, I knew I needed to be the first to interview you but it was still going to be tame. Now? This segment is going to be one for the history books.”

Bakugou grinned, “Fuck yes.”

“Is he always this eloquent?” Sato asked, turning her attention back to Midoriya. The inventor chuckled, “He’s no author but I promise he knows more than four letter words.”

“Fucking rude!” Bakugou snarled, viciously ruffling Izuku’s hair.

Sato smiled, “Oh these two are perfect.”

“Stans gonna ship them for sure,” Camie affirmed.

The journalist looked to the female hero in confusion, “Darling, I have no idea what you just said.”

The director interrupted them, “We’re up in ten! Sato-Sama, Ground Zero please take your seats. Mirage and Midoriya-Sama, behind the red line please.

“Good luck, Kacchan!” Izuku said with a wide smile, pushing himself up to kiss Bakugou’s cheek. The explosive hero shooed him away, “I don’t need fucking luck, I’m awesome!”

Host and guest situated themselves on the set, allowing the cameramen and a single make-up artist to ensure the best picture and then patiently allowing the sound crew to finish attaching mics. A final assistant placed a glass of water beside the host and a steaming cup of coffee beside the hero.

“Two minutes!” called the director, cuing unessential personnel to clear the small space.

“Nervous?” Sato asked, “This is your first live interview, right?”

Bakugou gave a confident grin, “The fuck do I need to be nervous about?”

Sato laughed, “Good answer.”

“Thirty seconds!”

The hero rolled his shoulder and popped his neck, loosening his frame for a more care-free demeanor.

“Ten… nine...”

Sato sat primly in her seat, facing the camera and removing her glasses.

“Five…four…” the director switched to hand gestures, three…two…one. A red light on the back wall switched to green, the director pointed at Sato, and Bakugou tried to appear as confident as he claimed to be.

“Good evening and welcome back to the Hero News Network. I’m Sato Chidori and I’m excited to be joined by up-and-coming hero, Ground Zero.” She turned her face to her guest, “Welcome.”

“Thanks for having me,” Bakugou replied, trying to remember the manners for interviewing he’d learned back at UA.

“To start, I’d like to go over a little information for our audience. You’re a UA graduate, sidekick with Fat Gum, currently ranked…” she checked her notes, “fourteen as of this morning.”

The hero’s smile was genuine, “Yeah, that was a pleasant surprise to wake up to.”

“Do you attribute that sudden jump to recent media?”

“I’m sure it played a part, but I’ve also made a couple of arrest recently that played a factor.”

Sato nodded, “Any more detail on those arrests?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes a little, and shook his head. It was a forced pause to keep himself from cussing, “Commission red tape.”

“Of course,” Sato confirmed, “Let’s talk about the recent surge in media—social media in particular. Recently you attended a gala and several photos of you smiling launched something of a debate. It seems people find you harsh and unapproachable. Do you think that’s the best approach to gaining favor in your profession?”

“I don’t do this for favor,” Bakugou stated, more of his usual growl seeping into his tone. “My profession is saving people and beating the shii—pants off of villains. My quirk is better for fighting than for rescue, so I don’t generally need to be approachable.”

“Have you seen your fans response to accusations of your being too standoffish?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, “Damn memes,” he sighed, “Yes, I’ve seen. It’s nice to have the support and I appreciate my fans defending me…”

“But?”

“But they need to knock that heart explosion shit off.”

Sato couldn’t help the small smile that overtook her lips, glancing at the director who held up a warning card, “I do have to ask that you monitor your language, Ground Zero-sama.”

Bakugou grunted in reply.

“Shifting gears a bit, can we discuss your anti-bullying campaigns? In my research for the interview I found a few former classmates, mostly middle school, who claimed your ads were ironic as you, yourself were a bully. Is there truth to those allegations?”

He hadn’t been warned about this question, but Bakugou wasn’t about to falter now, “Yeah.”

Sato didn’t seem to expect such a straight answer, “Can you elaborate?”

“When I was younger, I had it in my head that I was genuinely the best at everything—better than everyone. I was a shi—jack---horrible person to others, especially our quirkless classmate. No one ever corrected my behavior, a lot of adults even encouraged it. At UA though, my classmates and teachers didn’t put up with it.”

“How do you feel about quirkless individuals now?”

“Well, I’m dating one, so there’s that,” Bakugou laughed, “but I know that a quirk status or type doesn’t define people. It’s about choices, how we use what we’re given.”

“Have you ever apologized for your behavior?”

“Publicly?” Bakugou replied, “No, but I apologized to Izuku recently and because he’s an incredible person, he was willing to give me a second chance to be his friend. I’m sure there are others I hurt, and I do regret those actions, but I’d rather apologize to them without a camera in my face.”

Sato paused, “Izuku? As in Midoriya Izuku?”

“Yeah.”

The host checked her notes, having not previously put two and two together, “So, the quirkless boy you bullied in middle school is world-famous scientist and inventor Midoriya Izuku?”

Bakugou laughed, “Yeah, I know. It sounds—“

“He was your date to the gala, wasn’t he?”

“Right again.”

“So,” Sato continued, “I don’t generally interview about hero’s love lives, but—“

“Yes, we’re dating,” Bakugou interrupted, “you can ask him yourself. He’s here.” The hero gestured off-set towards Midoriya who was looking on with a proud smile.

The news network had agreed beforehand to bring Midoriya onto the interview, but the exact method hadn’t been decided. Bakugou had smoothly ensured he was pulled on set with plenty of time to talk and in a way that looked spontaneous.

Sato looked to the director for guidance, “Is that—“ she began to ask, but the hero stood up and walked off set. Professional that she was, Sato rolled with it, “Can we get Midoriya-sama a mic please?” Bakugou was returning to camera, pulling Izuku by his hand towards the sofa. He gave the inventor the spot closer to their host and sat beside him, nudging his knee against Izuku’s in a reassuring gesture.

A member of the sound crew joined them to mic Izuku up quickly and then ran back off set.

“Well,” Sato said, “um, thank you for joining us, Midoriya-Sama.”

The inventor was flustered, his face red with embarrassment. Still, he smiled and replied “No problem!”

“Can you confirm what Ground Zero has just told us?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Izuku said, reaching his hand so that he could rest it on the hero’s knee. “About a month or so ago Kacchan was assigned to me as a body guard. I was kind of hostile about it.”

“Kind of?” Bakugou groused, earning him a playful glare from Izuku.

“He gave me a really sincere apology, and we talked about it. Seemed silly to keep being angry about something that he did as a kid, you know? And he’s outgrown those bad behaviors.”

“So, when did the dating begin?”

“That’s been recent,” Bakugou supplied, as Izuku answered with “After the gala.”

The inventor took the lead again, “We’ve spent a lot of time together because of his assignment. We’d been friends as kids before things turned sour, so we started by starting fresh with that.”

Sato gave a soft smile, “Was it hard to forgive your former bully?”

“Oh, um,” Izuku scratched behind his ear nervously, “I’m not usually one to hold a grudge to be honest—kind of a waste of time. And I’d been following his career and knew about his campaigns and stuff, plus I’ve been making his support gear forever so…”

The journalist spotted the opening they needed to get to the juicier headline they’d promised. “You say you aren’t usually one to hold a grudge. Does that mean there’s someone out there you haven’t forgiven? A rival perhaps?”

“That’s…” Izuku drifted, the nervousness in his gut threatening to spill over into panic. Katsuki took his hand and squeezed, “He’s been having some issues with restrictions to his personal freedoms.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Well, to tell the truth, I didn’t really want to be in support tech when I was younger.” Izuku began sheepishly, “I wanted to be a hero, still do, actually.”

“Is that safe? With your quirkless status?” Sato interrupted.

Midoriya huffed with annoyance, “That’s literally what everyone says, as if having a quirk automatically makes you qualified for hero work.”

“Well,” Sato defended, “Certainly certain quirks are better suited to—“

“That’s bullshit,” Bakugou cut in, the director flagging another warning sign, “I’ve sparred with this dude, watched him put pros on the defensive. Give him the right support tech and he could keep up with and outperform most heroes.”

“Aren’t you a little biased?”

“Hell no,” Bakugou answered confidently, “I don’t waste time on extra crap. I don’t say shit I don’t mean. Izuku is more than qualified to be a hero if he wants to be.”

“So why not get licensed?” Sato asked Midoriya.

“Same reason I can’t emigrate to another country or go work on I-Island, same reason the Commission has a limitless warrant on my personal property and files, same reason they can force me to submit mental and physical health checks to do consulting work,” Izuku was clearly getting angry. He took a deep breath and finished, “The government put something called a Gold Flag on me.”

“Gold flag?”

“A BS law from a couple decades ago,” Bakugou answered, “basically giving the government control over personal aspects of an individual’s personal affairs because they’re an ‘asset’.”

Sato considered this, “Sounds similar to being regarded as a National Treasure. Why is having this honor so frustrating to you?”

“Because I didn’t know about it. National Treasures are offered the status and have to accept it. A Gold Flag is placed without notification and there isn’t a standard for placement of a flag on a person. I feel like a criminal. My privacy and limited freedoms have been taken away because I did something good.

“They put this status on me when I was nineteen and I just found out about it last week. My attorney had to make a huge fuss to get copies of my file, I only found out how long I’ve been flagged yesterday.”

“You mentioned an attorney, do you intend to take legal action?” Sato asked, noting the director giving the ten minute signal.

“My attorney has advised me against answering that question at this time,” Izuku said, “but—“

His answer was cut off by a pair of partially gloved hands, one wrapping around his mouth, the other around his torso, pulling him back into a portal that had opened behind the inventor.

The hero moved quickly, on his feet and palm held outward towards the portal. Meanwhile, Izuku grabbed the hot coffee mug on the table between himself and their host—it had cooled some but was still hot to the touch, hot enough that when he threw it behind himself into the portal, his assailant flinched, allowing Izuku to break free. The inventor grabbed the journalist, yanking her to the ground, out of the hero’s way so that he could send a blast directly into the open portal.

“Keep the cameras running!” Sato demanded from the ground, where Izuku hovered over her. He hefted her to her feet, noticing a second portal forming near them, “Run!” he commanded.

The journalist ran for the back of the room, refusing to leave even as the rest of the crew escaped in panic. She took over the camera herself, ensuring whatever fight was about to take place was captured. Sato focused the camera just in time to capture footage of League of Villain member Dabi tackling Midoriya to the ground.

“You piece of shit!” the villain was yelling, “You’re coming with us and getting this fucking implant out!”

Bakugou and Camie had their hands full as Compress, Twice, and Toga arrived on set. The fight was chaos, too much movement at far too high a speed for Sato to focus on any one thing—she instead pulled the camera back towards the wall to get a full view of the fight taking place.

Camie’s illusions weren’t particularly useful in this fight, but she seemed to be holding her own in hand-to-hand against Toga, or she was until Compress opened a capsule and dropped half the sofa above her head. The illusionist dodged, but it gave the shifter an opening to attack Ground Zero from behind. His explosions quickly dissolved Twice’s clones, but more kept emerging too quickly to make real progress in the fight. Adding Toga to the mix left him stuck with dodging blows rather than going on the offensive.

Compress lunged forward, moving towards the space where Dabi and Izuku were grappling. Sato’s eyes widened as she realized the inventor had the villain pinned down and bleeding from his nose. The journalist was about to scream out a warning when Izuku rolled off of the fire user, just in time so that Compress’s touch captured his fellow villain instead of the inventor.

The inventor pulled a small device from his back pocket, running forward towards his new opponent instead of away. Rather than actually make contact though, he ducked under Compress’s touch, rolling away and throwing the device upwards, “Gale Force!” he yelled.

Sato looked to the doors to see the wind hero had indeed arrived, just in time to complete whatever silent demand the inventor had sent is way. A swift wind moved through the studio space, gracefully hurtling the little device through the air like a heat seeking missile until it made contact with Compress’s neck. The villain seized, a few spasms of his limbs, before falling face-down and stilling—Dabi still trapped within the confines of his quirk.

Twice, seeing his comrade fall, began to panic and more clones began to fill the space. Replicas of the heroes now attacking the originals.

If the fight had been chaos before, it was complete pandemonium now. But, Midoriya was a quick thinker and he knew his friends were too, so he screamed over the racket, “It’s in the toilet tank!”

The true Mirage, Gale Force, and Ground Zero, along with the inventor, ducked. Sato sank with them just in time for the wind hero to release a strong blast that knocked the villains into the wall and spliced through clones, dissolving them. The force was strong enough to knock Toga out completely when her head slammed against the wall. Twice stood back up, disoriented and wide open. Ground Zero had him cuffed with a few quick maneuvers. Whether by luck or from viewing the show, the police swarmed the room moments after.

“Turn that damn camera off!” Katsuki yelled just as Gale Force ripped his cape away to throw it over the lens.

“Don’t need their friends seeing any more!” Gal Force explained to Sato.

The journalist sat on the ground, completely taken aback by what she’d just witnessed. "One for the history books," she repeated to herself.

Notes:

My classes start up again in a week or so. I want to be done with this before then, so expect a final (steamy) update soon!

Chapter 15: Day 27

Notes:

This is it, the last chapter!!

Big thank you for everyone's encouragement and feedback, it means the world to me!

Smut warning: You can easily finish the story without the full on sex scene. Just stop when you get to the xoxoxoxox. If you're a more lusty reader, by all means continue on!

Social media blew up.

#Justice4JTesla and #GoldFlagCaptive were trending globally within twenty-four hours as the video footage of the fight went viral. Fans, old and new, began organizing in unprecedented ways—quietly but efficiently protesting and petitioning. Public outcry for a full public release of names on the Gold Flag list was quickly becoming impossible to ignore. Outside of the Commission Headquarters, fans chanted “Let Him Fight” as they advocated for Midoriya to be allowed to take the licensing exam.

The heroes involved were all very publically reprimanded by The Hero Commission. However, the combination of successful arrests of four members of the League of Villains and the sudden public favor caused their rankings to jump. Ground Zero was #7 seemingly overnight, making him the first sidekick to ever break into the top ten. He and Red Riot had begun reaching out to contacts about opening their own agency.

Seventy-two hours after the interview, Midoriya and his attorney made the official announcement of legal action against the government. The inventor stated firmly he had the funds to take the case as far as it needed to, for as many people as necessary. Twenty other individuals had stepped forward so far to join the lawsuit. It was assumed more would join once the official list of names was released, or leaked, as some online presences were beginning to threaten.

Much to Bakugou’s annoyance but everyone else’s delight, the interview had launched a new stream of memes. The world wide web was having a field day with Bakugou's failed efforts to avoid cussing during his interview, captioned gifs were seemingly everywhere. Midoriya’s particular favorite fan creation was a t-shirt that seemed to be suddenly available in every corner store clothing shop. The front was labeled “Protest Shirt” while the back stated “It’s in the toilet tank” with an image of the Capital building in a swirling vortex.

The scientist owned it in four different colors.

He was wearing a v-neck blue version of it currently, a size too small based on how it fitted to his form and distracted Katsuki as the idiots surrounding them cheered, “Kanpai!”

Bakugou’s mission as body guard was officially completed, begrudgingly labeled a success by the Commission. His troop of friends, as well as Midoriya’s trio, had come to the warehouse to celebrate—though the hero suspected they just wanted to drink. It’d had been one hell of a week since the interview, constantly dealing with the next public statement or appearance or paperwork left everyone exhausted. This was the first night since the viral whirlwind of press had begun that the heroes and inventors could sit back and breathe.

Bakugou knocked back his cup of sake before opening a beer and settling back into the plush comfort of the sofa. He watched as Mina and Kaminari gushed over Izuku’s curio cabinet of awards, making the inventor splutter and blush under their praise.

“You’re smiling,” Mei cooed at him, leaning over the back of the sofa to hover over him.

“Am not.”

“You’re happy,” she stated, “it’s cute.”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou answered, shoving her away with one hand as he took another swig from his beer. Of course, the pink haired demon only laughed and climbed over the back of the sofa to sit next to him, “It’s okay to be happy, y’know?” she said.

The blond grunted in reply, letting the conversation lull.

“Thank you,” Mei said softly.

“Fuck for?” Bakugou asked, turning his attention to the woman, “I didn’t do shit for you.”

“For supporting him in a way no one else has,” Mei answered, “I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been this week.”

“Shit won’t last forever you know,” Bakugou grunted, “Depression doesn’t work that way.”

“I know,” said Mei, “but I think this might be the first time he’s had a real chance at stability.”

The hero hummed thoughtfully, “Well, whatever happens, he’ll have us, right?”

Mei smiled at him, “Yeah. He’ll have us.”

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Izuku curled up alongside Bakugou near eleven pm. He was almost cat-like in the way he laid his head on the hero’s lap and tucked the rest of his body into a tightly wound ball. Katsuki ran his hands through the green curls and felt the inventor’s breaths began to even out.

Their guests took note of the scene and after capturing a few pictures, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, departed for the evening to let their host rest. Mei left last so she could ensure everything was locked up correctly, leaving Bakugou to tend to his boyfriend.

“Izuku,” he said softly, scratching more deeply at his scalp to rouse the inventor.

Midoriya’s eyes opened quickly and he smiled slyly at Bakugou, “Is everyone gone?”

Bakugou stopped his ministrations and scowled, “Were you pretending to be asleep?”

“Maaaaybe,” Izuku answered, shifting so he was sitting up, his knees tucked under him on the sofa.

“And they think I’m the rude one,” Bakugou shook his head.

“Well,” Izuku said, leaning in closer, “it was either that or tell everyone I needed private time with my therapy dog.”

“Not a dog, asshole,” Katsuki answered, but he was smiling when he leaned forward to meet Izuku’s lips.

Izuku hummed appreciatively, encroaching into Katsuki’s space to straddle his lap as he deepened their kiss. The hero let his hands wander, one creeping into Izuku’s shirt to feel warm skin and taut muscles as the other skimmed down towards his ass.

The scientist diverted his attentions, trailing his way to Katsuki’s neck with kisses before nipping at the juncture of neck and jaw below the hero’s ear. It was easily Midoriya’s favorite of Katsuki’s weak spots, demonstrated by the whine Katsuki emitted as he bucked his hips upward and tilted his head to expose more of his neck.

“My puppy has been so good for me,” Izuku praised. The hero opened his mouth to protest, but only gasped when the scientist tweaked his nipple. “Such a good boy,” continued Izuku, nibbling at the hero’s neck—enough to sting but not enough to bruise, “So loyal and patient and strong.” Katsuki whimpered and squirmed under Izuku’s continued caresses.

“Damnit, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki whined, hands gripping harder at Izuku’s hips.

Izuku licked a long stripe up Katsuki’s neck before gently sucking at his earlobe. “What’s the matter, Kacchan?” he asked playfully.

“You--ah--you tease too much.”

The scientist sniggered at him as he pulled back. Katsuki’s eyes were scrunched shut, his head still tilted aside as he leaned against the sofa’s cushions.

“Open your eyes, Katsuki,” Izuku commanded, sliding a hand over the hero’s torso, letting his thumb tease over a nipple before drifting upward to gently guide Katsuki’s face forward so that he was looking the scientist in the eye.

Fuck, he’s unfair. Katsuki thought to himself as he took in Izuku’s predatory gaze, pupils blown wide, somehow calm despite how worked up Katsuki himself already felt.

Izuku grinned smugly at him, “Did my puppy not realize,” he began coolly, “that we’re home alone, with nowhere to be tomorrow?”

Honestly? He hadn’t. Ever since they’d become physical there had been a constant stream of interruptions, lack of privacy, or pure exhaustion preventing them from getting too far along in their activities.

Tonight though, there was nothing to get in their way.

“Fucking finally,” Katsuki growled, shifting forward to kiss Izuku again—this time sweeping his tongue across Izuku’s bottom lip. The inventor moaned at the feeling, opening his mouth to give Katsuki access to invade more deeply.

Izuku ground his hips down, putting pressure on the hero’s hard cock and causing him to pull back from the kiss with a breathy moan. The scientist chuckled at him, “You’ve been such a good boy, Katsuki. Working so hard,” he praised again, “I think it’s time you got to play, hmm?” He emphasized his point by shifting his hips again.

“Fuck, yes,” Katsuki whined.

“How would my good boy like to play?” Izuku asked, but the blond was already getting lost in the sensations, responding with a gasp as he bucked his hips upward into Izuku—chasing the friction.

“I asked you a question, Katsuki,” said Izuku, more firmly, but the hero only responded with another buck of his hips.

Katsuki couldn’t help the little yelp and groan of pleasure when Izuku pulled his head back and away by his hair, lifting himself slightly off of Katsuki and pulling his feet up over the hero’s thighs, effectively preventing him from humping Izuku again.

“Katsuki,” Izuku said firmly, forcing the blond to meet his eyes. “I want to make you feel good, to help you play, but you have to be a good boy. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

The hero nodded his head as much as he could with his hair in Izuku’s tight grasp, the motion causing the tug to sting even more deliciously, “Yeah, yes,” Katsuki answered, “I--uhn--want to, wanna play.”

Izuku released his grasp, petting soothingly over Katsuki’s scalp with his fingertips, “Aww,” Izuku cooed at him, making Katsuki’s already flushed face become darker with embarrassment, “my poor, slutty puppy just got too excited, hmm? That’s okay, I’ll forgive you this time.”

The phrase this time made the blond keen as he wondered what the other would do if he failed to respond appropriately again, a few ideas making him shiver with excitement.

“Now then,” Izuku began again, letting his hands rest on Katsuki’s chest, “How does my good boy want to play?”

Embarrassment overtook Katsuki. He knew what he wanted but he didn’t want to ask for it. Izuku was looking at him expectantly, a smug upturn of his lips as he watched Katsuki struggle with himself. When the hero didn’t readily give an answer, Izuku put on a fake pout, “I guess my puppy doesn’t want to play after all.” He unhooked his feet from Katsuki’s thighs, lifting himself up as if getting ready to leave.

Katsuki tightened his grip on Izuku’s hips—he could feel the other’s gaze on him and found himself looking away shamefully, “I w..t…you to f..k…” he mumbled. Why the fuck is this so embarrassing? he thought even as his cock seemed to twitch with interest.

“What was that?” Izuku teased as he reached out to place two fingers under Katsuki’s chin and raise his head. “You’ll have to speak more clearly, like a good boy.”

“I want, for… I want you to…” he took a deep breath and fixed a stubborn gaze on Izuku. “I want you to fuck me,” he finally said confidently.

Izuku’s smile widened and he leaned down to kiss Katsuki, “Perfect.” The inventor moved away, standing in front of Katsuki and offering a hand to the hero.

The blond took the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be guided off the couch. Izuku rewarded him with a deep kiss and by squeezing his ass. “Do you have lube in your room?” asked the scientist.

“Fuck,” Katsuki growled, “no.”

“My room it is then,” Izuku instructed, pushing the hero towards the hall to the bedrooms—a playful slap to his ass, “Get a move on.”

Katsuki did not need to be told a second time. He took Izuku’s hand and pulled him urgently towards the bedroom, much to the inventor’s amusement if his giggling was anything to go by. He kicked the door to Midoriya’s bedroom open, ready to get the bed but stopped short once he actually had a view of the space.

He hadn’t seen it before, now that he thought about it. Izuku had been intent that Katsuki not enter the room prior to their going to Mei’s and they’d been crashing on his bed since returning. The room was strikingly different to the rest of the house in the way that it was lived in. Pushed up against the corner across from the doorway was wide, messy bed with tan sheets and a dark comforter, a single pillow balanced halfway off the mattress. Beside it was a long dresser, similar to the one in his room, except here there were clothes piled up on it—he assumed those were the clean ones as the floor was littered with garments, none of them quite in the laundry basket that sat near the window. Visible through the window, on the fire escape platform was a worn, cloth folding chair.

There were bookshelves in this room too, books scattered throughout but also trinkets. Pictures of Izuku with his friends, his mother placed innocently alongside Izuku’s Sable gear. There sat his helmet and black Kevlar vest, looking like just another piece of tech thrown haphazardly to the side. Above the dresser, a whiteboard with names and locations written out—a veritable web of crime.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked, arms wrapping around his torso from behind as the dark haired man pressed a kiss to Katsuki’s spine, “Why’d you stop?”

“All that money,” Katsuki whispered, then he whirled on Izuku, red glare and a childish sneer, “and you keep your illegal crime fighter shit laying around your bedroom!?”

Izuku, seemingly stunned for once, blinked owlishly at him. Then, that stupid smug grin of his crept up his lips as his eyes became half-lidded, “What’s the matter, Kacchan? Is it distracting? Thinking about Sable fucking you now?”

“Hah!?” Bakugou denied, “The fuck makes you—“

Izuku cut him off with a less than gentle palming of Katsuki’s crotch, letting his palm press against the head of the hero’s cock, “I think you wanna see me in those tight pants. I’m told they’re quite flattering,” Izuku said, somehow looking even smugger when Katsuki groaned at the contact. “I am your favorite criminal? Aren’t I?”

Katsuki heard himself keening as Izuku guided him back towards the bed, hand working at his fly to release some of the pressure and get his hand a little closer to its prize. He stroked at the hero’s straining dick while his other hand slid up his shirt to tease his nipple. Katsuki moaned when the back of his legs hit the bed and fell back against the mattress, tugging Izuku’s wrists in an effort to get him on the bed as well. The vigilante laughed, a low chuckle that was clearly mocking the hero, “Does top ten hero, Ground Zero, want to be fucked by his favorite criminal?”

The hero didn’t think, didn’t try to stop himself from moaning out a “Fuck yes.”

“Strip. No touching yourself. I’ll get the lube.”

Bakugou watched him pull away, a small pout forming on his lips, but he moved to remove his shirt. He watched as Izuku did the same on his way to the dresser, digging through a bottom drawer for their supplies. Katsuki considered Izuku’s previous threats and couldn’t stop himself from acting on his curiosity. Rather than strip his pants off as well, he slid them partially down his thighs before reaching into his boxers to pull himself free, allowing his hand a few languid strokes as his eyes stayed focused on Izuku.

Izuku stood upright, his hand working his own fly open as he turned back to the bed to see Katsuki’s working himself. He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t seem angry even as he stepped towards the bed with a hum. He threw the lube down on the mattress, near the pillow, and then rounded towards the foot of the bed, letting his fingers drift up Katsuki’s muscled legs to the elastic band of his boxers. He snapped the elastic band playfully, causing Katsuki to sigh appreciatively at the sting. Deftly, Izuku stripped Katsuki of his remaining clothing in one fluid motion.

Katsuki locked eyes with him, letting his hand drift up his shaft in another lazy stroke. Admittedly, he’d expected more from Izuku, had been a little excited, and now he was... not disappointed, but wondering if he’d read the signals wrong.

“Katsuki,” Izuku said, thumbing at the band of his shorts and guiding them down his hips, “what did I tell you?”

Bakugou swallowed nervously, Okay, maybe he hadn’t misread the signals. “Strip.” He dragged his hand back to the base of his cock, eyes on Izuku as the scientist dropped his clothes and finally let Katsuki’s eyes graze over his naked form.

“And?”

“And?” Bakugou parroted, hand drifting to his balls.

Izuku didn’t give him time to even reach his destination. The scientist grabbed his calves and pulled hard, dragging Katsuki down until his ass we nearly hanging off the bed. Just as quickly, the hero was flipped over, his stomach against the bed and his ass presented to Izuku.

Before he could get his footing, Izuku was leaning over him, his hard cock pressed against Katsuki’s cheeks as a hand reached up to pull at his blond hair. The blond keened under the harsher touch, hands grappling to fist at the bedding, his already hard dick jumping with new interest.

“What else, puppy?” Izuku asked, a harsh edge to his voice, “Strip and?”

“No--mhmm--no touching.”

“And what did you do?” Izuku asked, free hand caressing at Katsuki’s ass cheek, lifting his hips slightly so they pressed up against the erection pressing eagerly against them.

“I…” Katsuki began, stuttering slightly, “I touched myself.”

“Such a bad boy,” Izuku said, releasing his clutch on Katsuki’s hair so he could lean back. His hand dragged down the path of the hero’s spine, leaving shivers in its wake until it disappeared altogether.

“No,” Bakugou protested but a hard slap to his ass cut him off from saying more.

“No?” Izuku questioned, firmly grabbing the cheek he’d just slapped, making the sting sizzle in a new way. “You weren’t rubbing at your slutty little dick?” A second hard spank, this time to the other side.

Katsuki whimpered.

“Or you aren’t a bad boy?” Izuku asked, a third spank coming down harder than the last right on top of the red mark forming there.

“I just,” Katsuki began to explain, but a fourth hit, this time to the other side, prevented him from finishing the thought. He could feel his dick pearling with precum below him, harder than he thought he’d ever been in his life. No one had done this to him, had ever even tried to take control in the bedroom. It felt absolutely incredible.

Izuku clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Just what, puppy? Just couldn’t wait to get off?” A fifth hit, this time to Bakugou’s thigh. “Couldn’t obey simple instructions?” Another blow, his other thigh singing with the sharp pain of the blow.

“Yes!” Katsuki wailed, “Couldn’t wait… I couldn’t—“

Two more quick hits, one right after the other. They weren’t hard, but on top of the pre-existing sting they created an even fiercer sharpness that tingled at his skin, burned deliciously. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

“Couldn’t what?” Izuku demanded, one more hit to the other side, “Couldn’t be good?”

Something in Katsuki broke, some hidden dam he wasn’t even aware had been there. The first hot tears in his eyes fell and he began babbling, “Couldn’t wait. Needed you. Need your cock. Need you to fuck me, please,” he begged as he ground his ass back against Izuku’s dick.

“Aww,” the vigilante cooed, hands soothingly stroking at Katsuki’s stinging flesh, “My poor puppy, just wants a treat for all his hard work, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please,” Katsuki whined into the bedspread; his pleading turned to disappointed whimpers when Izuku pulled away. He couldn’t bother to lift his head to look but could hear faint shuffling followed by the pop of a bottle lid. He bucked into the edge of the bed when Izuku slid wet fingers between his cheeks to toy at his rim.

“Need you to be a good boy, can you do that?”

He nodded profusely, “Yes, good boy, yes, I can—“

“Hold yourself open for me?”

Katsuki immediately did as told, spreading his feet so that his ass lifted higher, letting his grip on Izuku’s bedding go so he could reach back and hold himself open. Soon, the inventor’s clever fingers began working him open. Izuku plunged them deep, scissoring his needy hole open, occasionally skimming at Katsuki’s prostate but purposefully avoiding the bundle of nerves.

Izuku squeezed his ass, refreshing the sting with a low chuckle, “Such a slutty puppy I have; I don’t even have to do any work.”

Indeed, Bakugou was grinding himself back on Izuku’s fingers, moaning at the feeling of those clever digits keeping him full.

“Does my puppy want a bigger treat?” Izuku queried, pressing his hard cock forward so Katsuki could feel it drag wet pre across his ass cheek.

“Yes, yes, please, ‘Zuku, please, I need it!”

Izuku’s fingers withdrew from him and even though Katsuki knew something better would replace them, he still growled with annoyance at the loss. This only made Midoriya laugh.

“Flip over,” Izuku commanded, “scoot up.”

Eagerly, Bakugou followed the commands, dragging himself up fully onto the mattress before rolling over. His eyes raked over Izuku’s body—he was flushed, breathing heavy, dick engorged and dripping. He looked as desperate as Katsuki felt. The scientist nimbly rolled a condom on. Bakugou very nearly told him not to, but the logical part of his brain shut the thought down. They’d have time for that in the future.

Izuku crawled up the bed, all the grace of a wild cat, until he was hovering over Katsuki. They leaned into each other to kiss, tongues tasting each other as Izuku finally entered his lover.

Bakugou let his head fall back with a groan of pleasure, hips involuntarily bucking down already, forcing Izuku to grasp at him and still his movements.

“Let yourself adjust,” Izuku said softly, but Katsuki could hear the strain in his voice.

“I’m fine,” he assured, “Move.” Midoriya gave a shallow thrust, testing Bakugou’s readiness, but the hero was having none of it, “You promised to fuck me!” He circled his hips, pulling a deep groan out of Izuku. “C’mon,” Bakugou continued, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he panted.

Izuku fucked him.

He threw Katsuki’s legs over his shoulders, putting his abs and thighs to work pounding into the hero. The position drove his dick straight into the blond’s prostate, a new surge of overwhelming pleasure with each thrust and slap of skin against skin.

Katsuki was gone. Completely lost in the sounds of Izuku panting and groaning as he himself clutched at the bedding below him and moaned enthusiastically, unaware of how he was singeing the blankets. He moved one hand down in attempt to touch himself but his hand was slapped away with a growled, “Not yet.”

As if challenged, Midoriya picked up the speed, hands gripping at Katsuki’s hips to pull him back on his cock with every thrust forward. The hero felt tears welling in his eyes again, his senses quickly overwhelmed with the harsh thrusts keeping him full, the repeated pressure to his prostate driving him tortuously towards the edge without actually pushing him over, Izuku’s hip slamming against his stinging ass and thighs.

Somewhere in the nebulous cloud of pleasure he’d begun begging again, “Please... need to... want to come, ’Zuku.”

“Okay puppy,” Izuku finally relented his previous command, “you can touch yourself. I’m so close to coming in this perfect ass of yours.” He continued his encouragements as Katsuki sobbed at the relief of his hand around his cock, “That’s it puppy, good boy. Come for me, come on.”

One impatient slap to the ass and Katsuki went over the edge. His vision whiting out as he painted his stomach with the strongest orgasm he’d ever experienced. Izuku slammed his hips against him, one last deep thrust as he spilled into the condom, Katsuki clenching down on him.

Izuku dropped his lover’s legs to his sides, not pulling out as he fell partially forward. He stopped himself short of blanketing Katsuki completely, propped up on one arm as he kissed and thanked and praised the blond. “So perfect, such a good boy, thank you puppy,” he blabbered between kissed, “So wonderful, Katsuki. So good.”

The hero wrapped his arms around Izuku, tugging him closer. Between the two of them, they managed to get into a comfortable position, each on their side as they embraced each other.

Katsuki felt different. Not like he usually did after sex. Usually he felt tired, like after a workout. A quick nap or something to eat and he was over it. Now though, he felt like he was floating, drifting in the strange stillness of his head.

Faintly he was aware of Izuku giving him a kiss on his head before leaving briefly. He vaguely felt Izuku wipe him clean and gently rub lotion onto the red marks he’d left behind with his spankings. He hummed happily when Izuku prodded him under the blanket and climbed in next to him, cuddling close and gently caressing Katsuki scalp and back. The hero opened his eyes then, feeling more like himself, not unlike waking up from a deep sleep.

“There you are,” Izuku said with a soft smile, “You okay?”

“Mmm,” Katsuki eloquently replied, stealing a kiss, “Mm amazing.”

“I didn’t think you’d go full subspace on me like that, with just… should probably have discussed it more.”

“Sub what?” Katsuki asked lazily, doing his utmost to curl around Izuku as if he was a human body pillow.

“Ah,” Izuku said, “Definitely lots to talk about later.”

Katsuki smiled, “Yeah,” he said as he began drifting off to sleep, “we’ve got lots of time.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying it!
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