Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya decided that he’d had enough of always being the hero.
What was the point of breaking your back to save ungrateful civilians who would simply go on about their lives as if it’d never happened?
As if he hadn’t just broken six ribs and fractured his collarbone after a villain with an automotive quirk dropped an SUV on his face.
Of course the civilian was just fine, crawling out from beneath the broken shelter of Izuku’s body and grumbling something about her nails being chipped. It’d taken everything in him to not airforce her ass across the street.
The dream of becoming Japan’s number one hero and following in All Might’s footsteps, was lost on him.
It’s been ten years since he graduated from UA, and in those ten years he's spent so much time trying to make sure everyone around him had a reason to smile. So much time that he forgot his own. The once viridescent light in his eyes continued to fade more and more each day.
Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be a villain.
Villains never apologized, never cared about consequences, never had to worry about who was smiling. Just one day, he thought to himself.
What would it be like to be a villain, for just one day?
Izuku sighs away the thought as he arrives at his agency’s medical building, looking up at the twenty-two large white marble stairs he has to climb to reach the entrance.
Who cares if injured heroes have to hobble up a steep staircase post-battle, they’re heroes right?
Straightening his spine, he begins his ascent, wincing as each broken rib screams in white hot agony with the movement.
“Deku!” A girlish voice calls from behind him. He turns to see Ochako, despite her bloodied costume and limp right arm, running towards him.
The gravity hero stumbles up the first two steps and gives him a bright smile, “Looks like we’re both pretty messed up.” She pants, “Walk with me?”
“Sure thing, what happened to you?” Izuku leans down, allowing her to rest her limp arm around his shoulders. He tries to hide his wince at the additional strain to his ribs.
“Oh the usual. A shark villain tried to rip my arm off. He almost succeeded, until Tsu intervened and I managed to get free, minus a chunk of my shoulder.”
She was clearly in a sincere amount of pain, but even so, still smiling.
The green eyed hero tries his best to find awe in his friend’s bravery, tries to muster up one of his old lines of encouragement such as, “Way to go Plus Ultra Ochako!” Or, “All in a day's work for a hero right? Great Job!” The belief in those words were long gone.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Uraraka.” It was the best he could do.
They reach the top of the stairs and an exiting hero holds the door for them as they limp through the entryway and up to the check-in counter.
“Heroes Deku and Uravity checking in– likely multiple broken ribs, fractured collarbone–”
“And one shark bite!” Ochacho chimes in, wincing at the strain on her shoulder from their height difference.
Izuku bends his knees and slowly lowers Uraraka’s injured arm, ducking out from under it. Why had he allowed her to throw the injured arm over him? Instead of switching her to his right side? A neglectful, stupid oversight.
Ochako doesn't seem to mind though. The gravity hero has always been tougher than she looks, and much too kind to say anything to him. Maybe he just isn't cut out for this line of work anymore if his common sense is this far out the window.
He helps her into the triage area after insisting she be seen first, despite the fact that his injuries are far worse. Ignoring her protests, he shuts the door behind him and makes his way back to the waiting area.
Every step and breath is agony, and the cold metal bench bites into his thighs as he sits. Leaning against the wall behind him, he clutches his chest and closes his eyes.
Shallow breaths and his body finding a somewhat comfortable resting position give him a short lived relief—because name is called mere seconds after relaxing.
Ugh.
“Hero Deku, we’re ready for you!”
Eyes still closed and groaning, he reaches forward to grab the edge of the bench and push himself up, when his arm slips.
Izuku braces for impact as he feels the fast sensation of falling, then a sudden stop as a warm hard body crushes against his.
Solid ridges and curves of muscle break his fall as he breathes in the familiar scent of brimstone and sandalwood.
Wheezing from the impact, he cracks open a lid to find a mess of wind-blown sandy hair, and a pair of blazing red eyes glaring down at him.
Great. Just what he needs right now.
“Watch it nerd! If I hadn’t been here to save your ass, we’d be adding a broken skull to your list of injuries. Pathetic.”
“Put me down Kacchan.” Izuku huffs, “I’m fine. I don’t need a lecture, I can barely brea–”
“Then shut up idiot.”
In one swift motion, the explosive hero lifts him into the air, cradling him against his chest and following the nurse down the hall. He does so with such a grace and gentleness that Izuku has never experienced from his haughty childhood friend.
Too shocked to formulate any sort of retort, Izuku indeed finds himself shutting up. Leaning into Kacchan’s warmth and deciding that a short-cut to the examination room doesn't sound so bad right now.
Everyone knows that to argue with Katsuki Bakugo, also known as “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight,” is a mistake. Thankfully, after many years of civilians and other heroes messing up his name, or irritating him with how long it took them to say it, Katsuki settled on just “Dynamight.”
But to Izuku, he would always be Kacchan.
The collar of his friend’s costume formed a deep V down his chiseled chest. Which left Izuku no choice but to rest his cheek against the man’s mountainous bare skin.
The sweet sting of Katsuki’s volatile sweat fills his nostrils, mixing with a melody of salt and ash and sandalwood body wash. It's absolutely…delicious.
Izuku suddenly finds himself wondering what the sweet substance would taste like on his tongue, all over him, inside of him.
Can you consume Nitroglycerin? What effects would it have? What about accidental explosions from...friction? Was that a thing? Fuck, Izuku wanted to find out.
“Oi! Wake up nerd, we’re here!”
Izuku’s eyes shoot open as he reels himself back from the salacious rabbit hole he’s fallen into.
Slightly panicked, he quickly glances up at Kacchan's face. Did he notice how he’d all but nuzzled into his chest? Did he care? Was he going to yell? Drop him on his ass?
Katsuki doesn't look down at him. His face reveals nothing as he lowers Izuku onto the examination table and positions the pillow under his head.
Without a word of goodbye, Dynamight strides from the room, and slams the door behind him.