Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bakugou Katsuki was fifteen. Fifteen, and in love.

“Come on, Kacchan, we can’t be late to the movie!” Deku pulled his hand, grinning ear to ear.

Katsuki scoffed, yanking the hyper Omega back. He squealed as he collided into Katsuki’s chest. “Slow the fuck down, shitty nerd,” Katsuki said. “It’s not in another hour. We can fucking make it.”

“Ah, I know, I know.” Deku sighed, but he looped his arm around his waist anyways. An intimate gesture — one that Katsuki grew less annoyed with with each passing day. “I’m just so excited, Kacchan! We haven’t been to the cinema in two months!”

Katsuki made a face. They’d been busy with school, and they hadn’t been able to make any plans together outside of the library, so this was a bit overdue. Despite having been official for half a year, they’d only gone out on a proper date only a handful of times.

Katsuki shrugged as he pulled his boyfriend closer to his side. “Yeah, well, it’s still just a movie, Deku. S’not worth running headlong into traffic.”

“Kacchan.” Deku’s tone suddenly became serious. “I would let a bus hit me for the sake of watching All Might.”

At this, Katsuki snorted loudly, and Deku immediately joined in his mirth.

“God— Deku, why the fuck am I even dating a mess like you?”

“Hmm… because you like me?”

“Not with that manic grin.”

Deku giggled, filled with sunshine and youth, and kissed his cheek affectionately.

Sometimes he swore he could still feel what it was like; how his heart would drum in his ears, how fireworks would go off between his fingers from how nervous and sweaty he got. Sometimes he remembered how nice it was to lie under the covers with his boyfriend, how warm and safe and goddamn happy he was from just being in the same room with him.

Sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night from a dream, he'd remember how it felt to have Midoriya Izuku look at him at all.

Sometimes…

"Dynamight?"

Katsuki blinked out of his thoughts. He looked at the glass coffee table before him first, then at the interviewer next to him. "Uhh…"

The woman's red lips curled upwards, overly sweet, and said, "Wow, did I startle you with our question, Dynamight? My, my! Does this mean you do have a special someone in your life?"

Katsuki scowled, holding back his annoyed sigh before it could be caught by his microphone. "No," he said firmly, a bit of a bite to his tone. "Like I've said to hundreds of gossip mags, I do not have anyone to go home to. I'm married to my job, and that's it."

"Aww, but that's not what your blush is saying, Dynamight!" The interviewer sang, loud playfulness completely faux for the sake of the camera.

This time, Katsuki couldn't hold back his sigh even if he wanted to. "Think what you want," he said, shrugging. "But I don't see how that's relevant to me climbing the ranks of pro heroes."

"Ah, always to business." She nodded, clearly disappointment from having the most popular question be brushed off so easily. Just like every interviewer in Katsuki's life. "But yes, you're absolutely right, Dynamight! Our viewers also want to know how, at the young age of twenty , you've already made your way into top ten! What's your secret?"

"Easy. I'm just fucking better than everyone."

She laughed heartily, and the audience in the studio joined in.

"Well, you may be number ten on the professional scoreboard, Dynamight, but your confidence has certainly sealed its spot as number one!"

Katsuki huffed a short laugh. He picked at the tips of his gloves, eyes downwards and away from the lines of cameras in front of him. When he looked up again, he caught sight of a child with dark hair, his eyes so big and bright like spotlights, like someone he knew, and Katsuki found himself spacing out yet again.

After the talk show ended, his manager had talked his ear off about swearing on national television — again — but her words entered one ear and went out the other, completely unprocessed. His mind was too cluttered for that today.

He was driving alone now, in the middle of a quiet neighborhood with the sun setting in the horizon. His hero costume had been exchanged for a casual shirt and sweatpants, the kind you'd wear at home after a long day at work.

But he wasn't going home — not to the place where he slept alone every night, anyway.

He parked at a distance; a precaution that he and his… associate had insisted on to avoid prying eyes and cameras. That said, Katsuki raised his medical mask a little higher as he walked along the trash-littered street. A dog was barking somewhere, just adding to Katsuki's headache, and he growled and walked faster to his destination.

It was a house, relatively small, but cozy in the sense that it felt lived in. There were pots of plants on the windows, an All Might welcome mat in front of the door, and small imperfections on the walls.

Katsuki stopped to look at the building. Taking in a deep breath, he stepped up to the door, waited a beat, and knocked.

"Coming!" Someone from inside shouted. Then, the door swung open, and his legs were immediately grabbed by a small child with green curls.

"Uncle Kacchan!"

"Hey, kiddo!" Katsuki laughed, genuine for the first time in literal days , and hoisted the little pup into his arms. "Well, shit, you got heavier! Did you eat extra chocolate this week or what?"

"No, but I did eat a super big pizza yesterday!" The four-year-old pup declared proudly, the shine in his red eyes never fading. "I think we have leftovers in the fridge. Mama, can Uncle Kacchan have some?"

Deku, who had been standing by the doorway, seemingly lost in his quiet thoughts, blinked and smiled thinly at his son.

"Sure, honey," he said, cocking his head towards the house. "Come in."

The living room was warm compared to the chill outside. Picture frames lined the shelves, dating as far back as when Toshi was first born, but nothing before that. Nothing with Katsuki in it. It was just Toshi and Deku, together, on his first birthday, on his first day of preschool, and all the little moments they shared together between these walls.

It was almost symbolic how the Omega had arranged these pictures here. It was almost as if he was cutting himself away from the past, from the life he had before everything fell apart.

An insistent tug on his collar made Katsuki jerk back to reality. He blinked down at Toshi, who was giving him a confused look. "Uncle Kacchan?" He asked. "Are you okay? What's the matter?"

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine, bud." Katsuki grunted as he hoisted the little one higher against his hip. "Now, where was that big ass pizza you were talking about?"

"Kitchen. Oh, while we eat, can I show you my new comic book? Pretty please, Uncle Kacchan?"

"Sure, sure." Katsuki set him down on his feet, still smiling. "Go on, little brat. I'll meet you at the table."

"Awesome! Be right back."

Katsuki watched as the boy disappeared around the corner, the sound of a door shutting the only indication of where he went.

Just when he was opening the fridge, a rustling of a bag snapped his attention upwards, and he was met with his ex, already dressed for work, rummaging through his messenger bag. "Um, thanks for coming on such short notice," he was saying, eyes far away from his own. "My coworker got sick and I had to take over her shift last minute, and I couldn't get a babysitter on a Saturday night, so."

"It's fine." Katsuki nodded, drumming his fingers on the fridge's cold door. "I'm always available for him. You know that."

Deku paused. His scent shifted, ever so subtly, but Katsuki still caught it. He didn't say anything about it though, and let the other regain his composure enough to hand him some money. "So, um, here's a little cash in case you guys wanna—"

"No." Katsuki immediately shoved the money back into his hands. "I brought my own money. Just go, we're fine."

This time, when Deku's sent shifted, it lingered. His usual pine and earthy musk was clouded with burning mint and unease, and Katsuki realized belatedly that he still had his hand curled around his.

Katsuki quickly let go like he'd been shocked with electricity. An apology was set on his tongue, but he figured that it would only make the situation worse, because then he would be acknowledging something. Something he and Deku had buried a long, long time ago.

So, Katsuki simply turned away to set a plate of pizza for himself and for Toshi, saying nothing.

"You don't have to pay for everything all the time, you know," Deku said after a minute of stifling silence. "I have a steady job at the diner now. We're fine."

"Yeah, well, I ain't using most of my money on anything else, anyway. S'fine, it's not a big deal."

"I appreciate that, I really do, but Toshi's still my kid."

Before he could stop himself, Katsuki clicked his tongue and muttered, "He's my kid, too, you know."

And all too fast, there was a hand grabbing his shirt, and a furious finger pointed at his nose. "Will you—" Deku, wild-eyed and snarling for a split second, sighed sharply and shoved him away. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep your mouth shut ? What if he heard? Where the hell even is he?"

"Oi, calm your tits, Deku," Katsuki snapped, the Alpha inside him thoroughly pissed from the sudden show of aggression. His instincts were screaming for a fight, but he kicked it down far enough so he could take a deep breath and level his voice. "He's in his fucking room. I'm not that stupid , goddammit."

Deku threw up his hands in exasperation, and he went to grip the sink to calm himself down.

"He can't know, do you understand me?"

"I get it. You've told me—"

"I mean it." Deku whirled, facing him now with an intensity that had never existed when they were kids. "He's not even five yet, okay? He doesn't need this— this thing between us—"

"You say that as if there fucking is a thing after you—"

"Me? Me !? How fucking dare you! How dare you say it was me when you left me —"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a door opening, followed by a hearty, "I found it, Uncle Kacchan!"

The two adults sprung apart right before Toshi bounded into the kitchen, a comic book hugged tightly against his chest. "I found the comic book!" He repeated, oblivious to their previous argument. Always so blissfully oblivious, just as he should be. "I forgot where I put it, but it turns out I just left it in my bag."

"Well, then you should put away your stuff more carefully," Deku chided, his mother voice automatically flipping on. "I just bought you that, and I don't want to see you lose it, okay?"

"Yes, mama." The pup laughed sheepishly.

Deku cracked a smile before crouching down and kissing his forehead. "Okay, well, mama has to go to work now. You be good, okay? Bedtime at nine. I'll be back soon."

"Okay, bye, mama!" The pup butted his head under the greenette's chin briefly before pulling away and waving him goodbye.

Deku smiled at his son as he left, not once making eye contact with Katsuki.

Which was fine . It was fine. It wasn't like it was the first time Deku pretended he didn't exist.

It wasn't like it still hurt . It wasn't.

It wasn't.

"Hey, Uncle Kacchan, look, look!" Toshi enthusiastically held up his comic book up so he could see, almost jumping from how excited he was.

And just like that, all of his burdens fell off his shoulders, and Katsuki could breathe again. "Yeah, what is it, brat?" He asked as he sat down on the dining room's chair, bringing the pup — his pup — up onto his lap. Looking over his shoulder, Katsuki finally saw the cover, and it was like warm honey was poured over his heart.

"It's you!" Toshi giggled, pointing at the cartoon-style Dynamight on the front page of the book. "Cool, right? I begged mama to get me this edition. You just look so awesome here and I had to have it for my collection!"

"Collection, huh?" Katsuki huffed, hiding his smile in the little one's messy hair. "Yeah. Your mom knows a thing or two about collections."

"Mm-hmm! Mama likes All Might the best, but I like Uncle Kacchan! You beat the bad guys real fast, and your hero costume has orange and I love orange, and you're also super famous!"

"All Might's a lot more famous than me, though," Katsuki teased. "Besides, everyone talks about me because I have a shitty way of talking."

At this, Toshi laughed. "I saw you on TV! Mama laughed when you said the bad word."

Something in Katsuki's chest stuttered. "Yeah? He did?"

"Yup! Mama always laughs. He tells me to not copy you, though, because it's not funny when I say it."

"Mm." Katsuki squeezed his pup tighter, unable to stop the fondness from spreading through his heart. "Yeah, don't copy me just yet, Toshi. Your mom will kill me otherwise."

"No, mama wouldn't do that! You and mama are friends, and friends don't kill each other, right?"

At this, Katsuki paused, but he composed himself quickly and said, "Yup. Exactly. Okay, so, whaddya say we read this together in the living room, hm? We can nibble on this cold ass pizza and then I can cook you something?"

"Katsudon!" Toshi said. "Can you cook me that? Mama usually makes it, but I like how Uncle Kacchan makes it, too!"

"Sure thing, bud. Anything you want."

"Yay!" Toshi flung his short arms around his neck in a hug. "I love you, Uncle Kacchan!"

For a moment, the words got stuck in his throat from how it had closed up, but it didn't take much effort — no effort, to be exact, because he could never feel bothered when it came to his son — to say what he always said to him whenever they got to meet like this.

"I love you, too, Toshi."

It was just sad that he was only allowed to say it as Uncle Kacchan, and not as his father.

Katsuki was fifteen. Fifteen, and incredibly stupid.

On their third year of middle school, Katsuki got his Omega boyfriend pregnant.

His rut had started early, right after their movie date. He just— He just started sweating, and his fangs were aching for a claim, and his whole body was burning , and Deku was right there with him on his bed, kissing him, trying to get closer because his pheromones were affecting him, too, and they were out of their minds with lust.

He remembered, vividly, how right it had felt to hold him like that, to hear him moan his name and whimper when his knot had formed, to watch his eyes roll back into his skull from being filled without a fucking condom . He remembered how it felt when they descended from their high, how everything just felt so light and blurry and all they wanted to do was curl against each other for the rest of the night and sleep.

For that one night — that whole day — they were happy. Happy and together.

But then reality had to snap them awake, and when they opened their eyes, it was to a positive pregnancy test.

And Katsuki just— He freaked out. He freaked out, okay? He was fucking fifteen with all these plans to be a pro hero, to be the best and strongest of them all so he could protect his quirkless Deku, but—

But to drop all of that to become a father? A mated Alpha? At— At fifteen fucking years old, barely out of middle school?

He… He couldn't. He couldn't do it.

Inko had been enraged. His own parents had been enraged. At him, at the both of them. God, he still remembered how heavy the air had been in the Midoriya's living room with all of them cramped inside. He still remembered how Deku had cried, how he'd begged him to look at him and tell him that he'd be there with him. How he'd asked him, with a wobbly smile, to claim him and mate him so they could get through this together.

And he. Just. Couldn't . He'd just sat there, between his mom and dad, blocking out all of their screams and demands for him to explain himself, of how the fuck he'd knocked up his boyfriend and known about it for three months and not say anything, and did nothing.

He was fifteen. He was fifteen and so fucking terrified, so he did what any scumbag would do in that situation.

He walked away.

But when he turned sixteen, his son was born, and he fell in love all over again. Midoriya Toshi became his whole entire world, and that had never changed even after five years of resentment from his childhood ex.

He could take the glares. He could take the fake smiles. Hell, he could take the slaps and screams whenever Toshi was out of earshot. But he'd made a mistake before. He wasn't going to repeat that with his own son.

He lost Deku years ago. That was fine. It was fine. But he couldn't, for the life of him, lose his flesh and blood, even if he understood how little right he had to that demand.

So he greedily took what he could get. When Deku had dropped out of school, and began helping his mom with earning money, he'd been — extremely reluctantly — allowed to babysit his son when they were gone. When Inko died a few years later, his visits became a lot more frequent, and his fights with Deku became a lot more volatile. They fought at every chance they got, but they always, always stopped to pretend they were fine whenever they heard baby Toshi gurgle and cry from his crib.

But once he made it as a pro hero, things started to slow down. He was earning money, a lot of it, and he always gave most of it to Deku and Toshi.

It was at that point where Katsuki knew, without a sliver of doubt, that Deku was thoroughly done with him, because when Katsuki had handed his first ever paycheck to him, selfless Deku didn't even stop to decline it, and merely took the slip of paper and closed the door on him.

That night, he had hurt. A lot. He mourned for their dead relationship, for that spark he had treasured and trampled on so many years ago, but ever since then, he'd never let anything get to him ever again.

He and Deku were done. There was nothing there anymore. The sole reason — the only reason — he came back to that house was for his son. That was it. He didn't care about seeing Deku's smile again, or hearing his voice, or smelling his familiar pine scent. He didn't care anymore. He told himself that he didn't care.

But it was whatever. The past was the past. What mattered now was that his pup was hungry, and he needed to get these eggs out of the pan before they turned to fucking cinders.

Maybe it was because of his Alphan instincts, but he was completely tied to his pup — that was basically the reason why he wanted to be in his life the moment he was born. He was protective of him, wanted to provide and take care of him, but most of all, he was invested at everything Toshi did.

Like for example, his quirk.

It was nine now, and they were in Toshi's room, getting ready for bed, and the little one was showing him a series of tiny pops along his palms, like he always did whenever Katsuki came to visit.

It was endearing, and heart-warming, to see his son inheriting his quirk and being proud of it, even if he had no idea who he got it from.

"One day, I'm gonna surpass you," Toshi was saying. "I'm gonna be the greatest hero, and protect mama and Uncle Kacchan!"

If his tears hadn't dried up years ago, he would've cried at the sweet declaration.

"Alright, alright, I'll believe it when I see it, kiddo." Katsuki snorted, but he still ruffled the other's hair and rubbed his forehead against his temple, lightly scenting him. "Go to sleep, 'kay? I'm gonna wait for your mom to come home."

"Can't you sleep over, Uncle Kacchan? Please?"

"Kid, you know I—"

"Y-You're busy, I know. It's just… It would be cool if you could stay and make me pancakes in the morning. I like your pancakes."

"Mm." Katsuki's mouth twitched in a smile. "Well, then, I'll just have to make you some the next time I get to babysit your ass, okay? Now go to sleep. I'll be right outside."

Toshi hummed, snuggling under his Dynamight blanket. "Okay. Goodnight, Uncle Kacchan."

"Goodnight, sport."

When he closed the bedroom door, he sighed, and went to the couch to watch something on his phone.

He didn't know what time he dozed off, but it was well past midnight when Deku came back, looking exhausted to the bone.

Katsuki immediately woke up from the sound of the door, and he grimaced when he saw his ex's state. "Jesus," he murmured, almost sympathetically.

"Is Toshi asleep?" Deku asked, brushing him off like usual, as he set his bag by the door.

"Well, duh, genius. It's the middle of the night."

Deku gave him a flat look, then he sighed and went to the kitchen. "I don't have the energy to argue with you," he said, loud enough for Katsuki to hear.

"Oi, I didn't even— God." Katsuki growled, flopping back into the couch. "Whatever, Deku. Ain't got time for that, anyway."

There was the sound of a tap, and the rushing of water, then a quiet, "Hey. Can you babysit again tomorrow?"

At this, Katsuki raised an eyebrow. Huffing, he got up and walked over to where Deku was. The greenette was in the middle of drinking some water when he asked, "Why? You working Sundays again?"

"No. I just…" Deku paused, shrugging. "I just have some stuff to do."

"Like?"

"It's none of your business," Deku snapped, defensive now. "I'm almost twenty years old. I'm allowed to have a life, you know."

"I never said you couldn't, asshole," Katsuki growled back, baring his fangs in hopes of intimidating him enough to shut up. It didn't work, of course. It never worked on him, but he could damn well keep up appearances.

Deku scoffed and slammed his glass of water on the counter, the sound as deafening as a gunshot. "If you don't want to, then that's fine . I can ask my neighbor to watch Toshi, since apparently your words about always being available for Toshi are just bullshit like all the other things you say."

"Hey!" Katsuki boomed, the Alpha inside him livid by the atrocious accusation. "I care about my kid, alright!? Don't you fucking dare say I don't, you piece of Omega shit !"

Deku shoved his chest hard, making him stumble back a few steps. "Oh yeah!? That's not what you said when I told you I was pregnant!"

"Oh, this again, Deku? Right here, right now? Come on, give it to me, wake Toshi up and see where the fuck this goes for you. Come on, Omega, scream !"

Deku yelled, frustrated, and started shoving him to the door. "Out!" He ordered. "Get out! Get the fuck out of my house!"

"Deku!" Katsuki dug in his heels and grabbed the doorframe, halting their trainwreck before it crashed into the wall. Taking in deep, forced breaths, he shrugged off Deku's hands from his shirt and faced him. "Stop! Just stop. You said you didn't want to fight, right?"

" Fuck you, don't make it sound like I started this!"

"I wasn't—" Katsuki stopped his voice from escalating any further, and tried again, gentler. "I wasn't trying to say that. Look…" He sighed sharply from his nose, then he leaned his shoulder on the wall. "Whatever, okay? I'll babysit tomorrow. I'll be here. It's whatever."

Deku made a sound in his throat that bordered on a snarl. He scrubbed his palms over his freckled face before he muttered, "Fine. Whatever."

There was a stretch of silence between them, intense with unfinished words, but Katsuki eventually asked, "What time should I come over?"

"Six. No, five. Come by five."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Scowling, Katsuki shuffled on his feet for a minute, before ultimately opening the door to leave. "See you and Toshi tomorrow, I guess."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow." Deku grabbed the doorknob, pausing. "Bakugou."

Katsuki quickly turned away, not giving the other the satisfaction of seeing the grimace on his face. With the door closing behind him in finality, he made his way towards his car, refusing to acknowledge the weight in his chest.

"Dude, come on ." Kirishima groaned. "We've been planning this for over a week ."

"I said I can't, Kirishima." Katsuki clicked his tongue as he adjusted his earpiece. "Something came up. You guys go on ahead."

"Come on, Bakugou, what's the deal? I thought you said you didn't have an interview today."

"I don't. It's personal stuff." Katsuki grabbed his wallet and keys from the table, double checking silently if he had everything. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'll make it up to you and the guys. Right now, I'm really fucking busy."

"Damn, Bakugou, you sound like you're meeting the president or something."

"Shut up, man. Look, I gotta go, I'm running late."

"You'd better be meeting a hot Omega or else this sacrifice of boys night is unforgivable."

Katsuki rolled his eyes as he started the engine of his car. "It's not like that," he mumbled quietly.

But somehow, his best friend caught the shift in his voice. "Wait a minute," he started, shell-shocked. "You're actually going to meet an Omega right now!?"

"Oi, Shitty Hair, I said it's not like that, aight? God, you're annoying. It's just some errand."

"If you were just gonna buy milk or something, then you wouldn't have cancelled our plans."

"Try me. Hanging out with you dumbfucks literally sucks the life outta me, y'know."

"Ha ha, that’s very funny, Bakugou. But seriously —"

"Goodbye, Kirishima." And with that, he hung up, and he tossed his earpiece onto the passenger seat.

Damn that keen-eyed Kirishima. He was one of the best people in his life, and one of the best friends he could ever have since high school, but he was too socially aware for his own good. Even back then, Kirishima would always question why he'd disappear right out of class, speculating vocally that Katsuki must be going on secret dates that nobody knew about, and Katsuki in turn would just brush it off, not trusting his sharp tongue to not slip up and accidentally give away his real secret.

He knew Kirishima and the others wouldn't break off their friendship if they knew about him and Toshi, but the fact still remained — he'd left his ex to basically raise their child on his own, and that was too big of a bomb to recklessly set off.

There was shitty traffic as he drove, so he got to the house twenty minutes later than planned. When he knocked, he was fully expecting to be yelled at — but what was new, honestly — but what he wasn't expecting was to see Deku being…

Being drop-dead gorgeous.

He couldn’t even remember the last time hei saw him out of his work uniforms, so to suddenly see him wearing a green button-up with the top buttons undone and a pair of skin-tight jeans really threw him for a loop. His eyes were accented with eyeliner and dark eyeshadow, making them seem even bigger than usual. His freckled skin was on perfect display, with a light sheen of sweat on his collar bone, making it glow under the sunset.

And those lips . God, they were so glossy and pink, so pretty even though they were pulled in a tight frown. “You’re late,” they said.

“Yeah…” Katsuki breathed, momentarily dazed, but he quickly blinked and coughed into his fist. “I mean, yeah, sorry. I got held up.”

“I’m leaving in a few minutes,” Deku was saying as he turned away, walking straight to the couch where his purse was. “Toshi! Toshi, come here and give mama a kiss goodbye.”

“Coming!” Their pup called out from somewhere in the house, most likely his room.

“So…” Katsuki couldn’t stop his eyes from roving over Deku’s attire even if he tried. “What’s with the get-up?”

Deku scowled at him. “I told you it wasn’t any of your business, didn’t I?”

“God, am I not even allowed to make small talk with you?”

“No,” Deku answered swiftly. He took a second to fix up his hair, then he took a bottle of perfume up to his neck.

And without thinking, Katsuki immediately said, “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Uhh…” Katsuki screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, like he was trying to rid himself of whatever spell he was in. “Your scent’s fine as it is. Perfume just— It just makes it worse.”

Deku’s eyes narrowed at him. Then, as sharp as a blade, he said, “Well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion, so…” Without breaking eye contact, he sprayed the perfume on his scent glands.

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the petty — power — move. He was about to fire off a remark when Toshi’s bedroom door opened, and the lively pup bounded right into his dam’s arms. “Bye, mama!” He kissed his cheek loudly. “Have fun!”

“I will, sweetie! I’ll bring home some snacks on my way home, ‘kay?”

“Okay!” Toshi turned his attention to Katsuki, and he broke out into a huge grin. “Hey, Uncle Kacchan! You’re late.”

Katsuki scoffed fondly as he went to pick him up. “Well, I had to go kick some baddie’s butt, so apologies if I’m a little late, your highness.”

“You’re half an hour late.”

“Twenty minutes!”

“Same thing,” Deku muttered from behind him. “Well, okay, I’m heading out. Take care.”

“See you later!” Toshi waved goodbye, and right after the door closed shut, he turned his head to Katsuki and said, “Uncle Kacchan, I’m so glad you’re here! You were just here yesterday, and I thought I wouldn’t see you again in awhile.”

“Yeah, well, your mom asked me to.”

“Ohhh.”

Katsuki sat down on the couch with a grunt, holding his son close to his chest. “But I would come by every day if I could, whether or not your mom asked me to, you know.”

Toshi peered up at him curiously at that. “Then, why don’t you?”

Katsuki smiled thinly before pressing his cheek on the top of his curls. “It’s complicated adult stuff, kiddo. You wouldn’t understand.”

The pup made a sound of protest. “That’s what mama said to me, too. S’not fair. I’m not a baby anymore.”

Katsuki chuckled, the act vibrating through his body pleasantly. But then Toshi’s words sunk in, and he asked, “Wait, what did your mom say?”

“He said it’s complicated, too, like you said.”

“No, no, I mean— I mean, what about?”

“Oh, I asked about where mama was going. He said he was going out with a friend.”

“Okay. And, umm, do you know who this friend is?”

“That’s what I asked! But mama said it wasn’t important for me to know yet because it’s complicated. Which is really unfair because mama knows all of my friends, but I don’t know any of his! I wanna meet and play with them, too.”

“Uhh…” Katsuki cleared his throat, an uncomfortable feeling lodged in his chest. “N-No. No, kiddo, it’s— Your mom’s right. It’s complicated, and you really shouldn’t stick your nose in it. Okay? You’re way too little for that.”

“Ehhh, not Uncle Kacchan, too!” He whined. “I thought you’d be on my side!”

“I am, I am. You know I’ll always be on your side, Toshi. Just… Uhh, just let your mom do his thing, okay? It’s probably nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I doubt it’s exciting anyway. So, uhh, Toshi, what do you wanna do tonight?” He was quick to change the subject, for he didn’t trust himself to keep talking about it and not call his ex to demand answers.

Luckily, the pup immediately switched to ranting about something else, which worked in distracting him for awhile, but eventually the distraught howls of his inner Alpha drowned out his words.

It was a long night again. Toshi was asleep, and Katsuki was on the couch like the previous night, but this time he wasn’t dozing off. He was waiting, wide-eyed and hyper-vigilant, for the door to open, and when it did, he was instantly on his feet.

“Deku, where did—”

The greenette jumped, nearly dropping his grocery bags. “ Jesus Christ, Bakugou, what the hell!?” He hissed. “You scared me!”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes as he stomped over to him. The lights were on, so he could take in Deku’s appearance in more—

Katsuki gaped. “Is that a fucking hickey, Deku?”

The Omega tensed, and he quickly lifted the collar of his top to hide the purple mark on his neck, but his glare never lost its intensity. “I appreciate you watching Toshi and all, but I have to ask you to leave now.”

“Deku, did you fucking go on a date ?”

“Bakugou, I mean it—”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone!?”

Deku dropped his things heavily on the kitchen counter. “First of all, I have no obligation to tell you shit about what I do,” he spat, his flowery perfume now gone and replaced by a forest fire. “And second of all, so what if I’m seeing someone? I have the right to, and I certainly don’t have to ask you for permission.”

Katsuki huffed a humorless laugh. “Don’t you— Don’t you fucking think I’d want a heads up about this, Deku? Huh? You asked me to babysit our son, made me wait up for you until it’s almost two in the fucking morning, and you couldn’t be bothered to tell me that you’ve—”

“That I’ve what, Bakugou?” Deku strode right into his space, jabbing a finger into the center of his chest.

God, did he grow taller? He always knew Deku was small, but to have him this close — after years of distancing from each other — he realized that Deku had grown a lot of inches throughout the years. He was almost up to his nose, and from where they stood, Katsuki could smell the shampoo in his hair, the pine underneath his ferocity, and the subtle musk of another Alpha clinging to his clothes.

Katsuki was going to be sick.

“You didn’t think I’d ever get over you, did you?” Deku scoffed in his face, his breath like a summer breeze against his overheated skin. “You thought that I’d, what, be stuck with glueing back my heart for the rest of my life? Is that it, Bakugou? You didn’t think I’d ever move on, that I’d ever make something of myself like you did?”

“I…” Katsuki swallowed. “I never said I’ve…”

“Tell you what.” Deku interrupted his train of thought with a swift pivot. He opened the door wide for him, crossed his arms, and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe. “If you drop whatever interrogation you had in store for me and get out right now, I’ll let you come back here next week. Maybe the week after that, too, because you’ve taken care of Toshi so much. But I really, really need you to get out of my face, Bakugou, or else this will never work.”

Katsuki stood there, frozen in place, as he stared at his ex, at the dark street ahead, and back again. He took a tentative step forward. "Deku—"

"GET OUT!"

Deku was fuming, freckled cheeks now red from anger, and he looked close to exploding if the white-knuckled grip he had on his arms was any indication.

"Get out," he repeated, much quieter this time, but his rage was still heard loud and clear. "Get out before I call the cops, Bakugou."

He knew he wouldn't, and he knew he himself would never let whatever this was get to that point, but he still honored his wish and didn't push. Instead, he grabbed his phone from the coffee table, and wordlessly stepped through the doorway.

"Hey."

Katsuki paused at the steps.

"The guy I'm seeing?" Deku met his gaze, made absolute sure that he could see the thunder clouds in his forest eyes. "He's a much better Alpha than you ever were."

And then the door banged shut in his face.

Once Katsuki was inside his car, he gripped his hair and screamed.

Chapter Text

One day, Katsuki was surprised to see Deku waiting for him at the door, their son giggling at his hip.

Deku's name almost slipped out of his tongue. As always, he just focused his attention at the sole reason why he kept coming back to this place.

"Hey, buddy," Katsuki greeted, a large smile reserved only for his pup plastered on his face. "C'mere."

The pup eagerly hooked himself around Katsuki, his two-year-old body so small in Katsuki's arms, so delicate and precious.

When Deku didn't move to give them privacy like he usually did, Katsuki looked up at him. "What?" He asked, a reflexive bite on his tongue.

Deku sighed, but at this point, it was his natural reply to all of his words. "We need to talk."

At this, Katsuki's heart lurched in his chest. "I am not separating from my pup," he immediately said.

"No, it's not that." Deku led him inside, where Katsuki finally noticed the cheap camera in the middle of the living room, facing the couch and wall.

Katsuki hoisted his pup higher on his hip, sparing a second to smile at his happy gurgle.

"What's all this?"

"I want us to take a picture."

Katsuki paused. "A family picture?"

"Don't say it like that," Deku snapped. "You are not—" The greenette bit his lip, stopping his sentence, but Katsuki knew what he meant.

You are not part of this family.

"Look," Deku started, slow and calculated, like he was discussing war strategies. "You know I don't want Toshi to know who you are. Not until he's old enough, at least. I just thought..." He took a breath before shrugging, saying, "I just want Toshi to hold on to something. Of both of us, his parents. I know... I know what it's like to only have a picture of myself with my mother throughout my whole life." Deku paused. "I don't want that for Toshi."

"Okay," Katsuki said slowly. "So, like, you want us to take a picture together. It's no big deal."

Deku side-eyed him. A coldness that was never present in their childhood was masking his vibrant irises. "You can't keep it."

At this, Katsuki bristled. "What? Why not?"

"Why would you?" Deku countered, his voice louder now. "You have tons of pictures of you and Toshi. Why the hell would you want this ?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Katsuki, not one to back down from a shout, raised his voice. "Do you think I don't want to remember this? Do you honestly think that I have a grudge as big as you and let it—"

"Oh, that's fucking rich coming from you—"

Toshi, the little pup that they'd forgotten about, squirmed and kicked, whining against Katsuki's shirt from the sudden noise.

"Oh, no, no, no, it's okay, little guy," Katsuki crooned gently, bouncing him in hopes of calming him down. "It's okay. Everything's okay."

Deku sighed, dropping his face in his palms momentarily. He breathed in deeply, and a second later, his face was back to being somber.

"Do you want to take this picture or not?"

Katsuki shot him a look, still patting his pup's curls. "Yeah. Whatever."

Deku led them to the couch, only taking a minute to set up the timer on the camera.

When he sat back down, Katsuki was mildly surprised by how close he set himself next to him. However, he put that at the back of his mind. He held his pup on his knee, with Deku leaning just a tad closer to hold one of the pup's tiny hands.

The camera beeped once, twice...

And Katsuki faced the lens, heart hammering in his chest like a drum, hands barely touching the fingertips of his ex boyfriend.

"Smile, Bakugou."

Katsuki released a sigh as he brushed a thumb over the old, faded photograph, the memories of that day rushing through him like tidal waves. It was hard not to drown in the past when he looked at it, making it a big reason why he kept it hidden in his drawer instead of putting it in his wallet or something. Secrecy aside, it was just too difficult to focus on his duties as a hero when he kept thinking about what it would've been like if he had been a father instead.

Sometimes he wondered if him eventually getting the family photo, despite Deku's protests, was a blessing or a curse.

Running a hand down his face, Katsuki breathed in slowly, calming himself, before setting the photograph back in its original place.

Work. He had work to do today.

It was three days after the day he found out his ex was seeing someone — someone allegedly better than him. It shouldn't have bothered him so much, seeing as his and Deku's relationship was in the grey area between non-existent and unhealthy. They weren't together anymore for fuck's sake, and there was a bigger chance for a helicopter to hit him on the way to work than for them to go out on a dinner date this week.

Which, by the fucking way, didn't hurt him at all.

When he got to the agency, he was greeted by Kirishima. He beamed and waved when they saw each other, but then his smile disappeared as he got closer. "Whoa," he said. "You smell even worse today, man."

Katsuki clicked his tongue and shouldered past him, not bothering to comment.

"Hey." Kirishima jogged next to him, concern etched into his dumb face. "Bakugou, when are you gonna stop sulking and tell me what's going on?"

"Never. I'm fine ."

"You haven't been since the day you blew off bro's night." He grabbed his arm before he could push the elevator button, forcing him to face him. "Bakugou, stop ."

" You stop, Shitty Hair!" Katsuki barked, roughly pulling his arm away from his hold. "It ain't a fucking problem, alright!? It's stupid, I'm being stupid, and it'll blow over. It's not a big deal, goddammit."

Kirishima was quiet for a moment, and Katsuki used that distraction to jam his thumb into the elevator button. They didn't utter a word to each other, but when they entered the empty elevator together, Kirishima finally spoke.

"You sound like you're telling all of that to yourself."

"Hah?"

"Is it big?" Kirishima asked, uncharacteristically somber. "The problem. It must be, if you're denying it this hard."

Katsuki paused. The elevator doors opened to their floor, and when they stepped out, Katsuki mumbled, "I don't know."

Because he didn't, and that was the most truthful thing he'd ever admitted about the situation. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. On the one hand, Deku seemed to be happy with his new Alpha, but on the other hand, Katsuki… wasn't. He didn't know why . Was it because of Deku's harsh comment before he closed the door on him? Was it because he was afraid of not getting more time with his pup?

Hell, was he jealous ? He didn't have a fucking clue.

"What happened?"

Katsuki furrowed his brows as he dropped his stuff on his desk. "It was…" He looked at his best friend, at one of the best people he knew and had stuck with him after all these years, at someone he knew wouldn't hate him if he knew the truth, and shrugged. "It's complicated."

He sat down then, ignoring the way Kirishima's face fell, and let up his walls.

He couldn't tell him. Not anyone. This was his problem, and it was his problem alone.

However, he couldn't help but spend his shift in a horrible mood, like an invisible weight was weighing him down. Whenever Kirishima asked, he would brush it off, again and again, until the redhead eventually got the memo and dropped the subject. That would've been great and peachy if Kirishima's teary eyes didn't alert the rest of his squad of the situation.

Now Katsuki had to deal with not one, not two, but four assholes trying to 'cheer him up' by being idiots. Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero were good people, and they liked him for one reason or another, and Katsuki supposed their loud jokes and obnoxious antics helped to distract him for a bit. Still, they were idiots, and they were idiots who did not shut up.

"Bakugouuuu, cheer up!"

"Yeah, you got us!"

"We're gonna stick with you through thick and thin, don't you worry!"

"Do you want us to treat you to some ramen?"

"Aarghh, you're all so fucking embarrassing!" Katsuki yelled, his face aflame. "Shut up, I don't need you extras to do shit for me! I'm a grown ass man, I can buy my own ramen!"

"Oh, is this an offer to buy us ramen?" Sero teased.

"NO!"

His friends laughed at his outburst, but the sound was soon cut off when their earpieces chirped to life.

"We've got a situation here in Musutafu Daycare!"

All at once, Katsuki's blood ran cold. Musutafu Daycare?

"There's a runaway villain who's—"

Without hearing the last of the other hero's report, Katsuki was bolting down the street for the daycare.

The daycare that his son was in.

"Bakugou— Bakugou, wait up!"

His friends' shouts and calls fell on deaf ears as Katsuki launched himself into the busy streets of the city, unapologetically shoving people out of his way, running as fast as he could while the wind screamed at him to hurry, hurry, hurry .

The Alpha in him was howling, torn apart by the mere thought of his pup getting hurt and him not being there to protect him, his kin, his child . If Toshi were to be collateral damage to this villain's rampage, then all bets were off. He wouldn't care if he lost his title as pro hero if it meant killing the motherfucker who dared touch his son.

Fangs elongated, nostrils flared, eyes wild, Katsuki sought out the ruckus of a fight. They were in the streets, right across Musutafu Daycare, and the wolf hybrid villain was surrounded by pro heroes. The children and teachers were being evacuated, but it was like walking into a death trap from how the villain kept throwing rubble and debris everywhere. The heroes were trying their best to hold the scene, but it was far too chaotic.

Baring his teeth, Katsuki snarled, his Alpha banging against its cage, calling out for his pup. His nose frantically searched for Toshi's autumn breeze, but there were too many scents mingling together. Fear, anger, fire, smoke — they swirled together to form a dizzying tornado. He didn't have time to sort them out.

So he did the next best thing — fight.

Roaring, Katsuki leapt into battle, his explosions hot and ready, and blasted the gigantic villain in the face, rendering him disoriented. "Don't you dare touch those kids, fucker!" Katsuki screamed.

The villain howled, blindly swinging his arm.

"Get the civilians out of here!" Katsuki told the other heroes.

"But, Dynamight, he's too strong! You're gonna need backup to—"

Out of the blue, a piece of debris came flying over his head, and it was from pure reflexes that Katsuki was able to blast it out before it could hit the children.

"I said go !"

He didn't have time to look back if the others had heard him. His focus was on the villain, on beating him, on protecting his pup from any more danger.

The others weren't kidding when they said the hybrid was a strong fucker. His claws were able to dig through asphalt and throw the whole thing around like it was playdough. It was hard to pin an attack on him without risking the safety of the civilians, so Katsuki had to be tactical about this. When he aimed an explosion at the villain's face, his arm was suddenly grabbed, and his world turned upside down. Katsuki grunted as his back hit the gravel, his arm trapped and useless.

Katsuki cursed as he tried and failed to pry the log-thick fingers from his person, while the villain pulled back his other arm, ready to knock him out.

But then white tape encircled his raised fist, pulling him backwards. There was a sizzling at his ear, the smell of burning skin penetrating his senses, before the villain howled and let go.

"Bakugou!" Ashido and Kirishima were at his side, hauling him up and on his feet.

"You idiot!" Ashido scolded. "I know you're a huge showoff, but don't run in like that without anyone to back you up, goddammit!"

"Are you okay?" Kirishima asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Katsuki said. He rolled his shoulders and was grateful when he felt no broken bones. "We gotta get this bastard under control. The area's flooded with kids."

"Kaminari's helping with the evacuation," Kirishima said. "Come on, I don't think Sero's gonna—"

The tape hero was suddenly thrown through the air, but he managed to shoot a line of tape around a tree branch, easing his descent. "This guy's insane !" He groused.

"It's four against one! Ain't no fucker strong enough to beat those odds."

When the villain roared and raised its acid-singed claw, they charged.

The battle was easier this time. Kirishima and Katsuki were doing a lot of damage to the wolf hybrid, gradually tiring him out, while Ashido and Sero covered for them whenever he got too rowdy. However, after another explosion to the face, he'd lost his temper, and he threw a large piece of debris — right towards the last of the evacuating kids.

Katsuki caught sight of green curls and tearful red eyes, darkening with the growing shadow of the projectile, and he moved.

The breath in his lungs was knocked out as he dropped and rolled on the asphalt, his pup trembling but safe in his hold. The debris had missed them by a hair's breadth.

"Bakugou!"

Katsuki coughed from the billowing dust, waving an arm to ward off his friends. "I'm good!" He yelled.

"U-Uncle Kacchan?" Toshi sobbed against his chest.

His heart clenched, in both worry and relief, and without thinking, he bent his head down and kissed the little pup's head, purring and pumping out as much calming hormones as he could. "I'm here, I'm here," he whispered. "S'okay, everything's okay now."

Toshi cried again, not out of fear, but out of happiness. "Uncle Kacchan!" He flung his arms around his neck and buried his wet face against his neck.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of this fucker, then I'm taking you to your mom. Don't be scared."

"O-Okay."

He spotted Kaminari redirecting civilians out of harm's way, and he handed Toshi into his arms. "Kaminari, get him somewhere safe," he said.

"Uncle Kacchan, I wanna go with you!" Toshi wailed, his tiny hands grabbing at the air for him.

"Uncle Kacchan?" Kaminari repeated, confused.

Katsuki ignored him, his thoughts too many and too entangled to comprehend anything but his pup's distress. "Toshi, I promise I'll check up on you, okay? I'm not going anywhere far. Hey, shh. Shhh." He pressed their foreheads together then, gently nuzzling him, scenting him, until his hiccups died down to a low hum. "Okay. Okay, that's a good boy. I promise I'm gonna find you later. Just hang tight with these guys first, alright? Can you do that, sport?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, okay."

With one last ruffle to his curls, Katsuki went back into the fray, ignoring Kaminari's bewildered look.

Finally, after a few more calculated punches and explosions, the villain went down, tied like an ugly package with Sero's tape. There was still the process of handing him over to the police, but Katsuki was never good with pointless formalities, so he ducked down the police tape and went looking for his pup instead.

The civilians were going bonkers on the other side of the scene. Some teachers were giving statements about the whole fiasco, while the others were comforting the pups as they were being checked out by the medics. Without the pungent smell of aggression, it was easier for him to sniff out Toshi.

There, sitting in the back of an ambulance, his tiny feet dangling from the edge, was his pup. An EMT was checking him out, and Katsuki found himself heaving a sigh of relief when the beta merely smiled and patted his knee before going to check on another kid.

"Uncle Kacchan!" Toshi yelled when he saw him.

"Toshi." Katsuki scooped him up into his arms and buried his nose in his curls, humming happily when his scent changed from rain-soaked dirt to candy apples in November. "C'mere, c'mere, Toshi. Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm. Are you?"

"Yeah, of course I am, kiddo. Beat the shit out of that motherfucker, too. He's all taken care of now."

"Cool," the pup breathed. "You're so awesome, Uncle Kacchan."

"Yeah, I know."

Even as Toshi considerably calmed down, Katsuki refused to let him go. He kept him in his hold, embracing him like he was the last thing he was ever going to touch. He let himself succumb to selfishness and just held his son .

This felt right. This felt like what a sire and pup should be — inseparable. Just them against the world.

But like everything good in his life, it all had to end at some point, and this time it was from someone screaming.

"Let me through ! I'm one of the parents— I have a child! He's in there! He's somewhere— TOSHI! Please, Toshi, my poor baby, he's—"

"Mama?"

As Katsuki stepped up to the ring of civilians barricaded by the police, he saw his ex, still clad in his work uniform, wildly trying to break free from one of the officer's hold. When he caught sight of them, he sagged in relief and started crying anew. "Toshi!"

"Oi, oi, he's with me," Katsuki said to the officer. "Let him through."

"B-But, Dynamight, we were ordered to keep everyone out of the scene until—"

"Did you not hear a single word he said?" Katsuki spat. "This is his pup , you goddamn idiot . Let him see his fucking son. Or do you want me to hand Toshi over to him right now and give every teacher in there a heart attack when they see they're one pup short? That what you want, fucker?"

"O-Okay, okay. No, sir." The officer nodded rigidly, pulled the police tape up, and helped Deku duck through.

"T-Thank you." Deku sighed, sniffling, as he took his boy from his arms and held him against his chest. "Oh, my sweet baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. Uncle Kacchan saved me."

And for the first time that day — Hell, for the first time in days , Deku looked at Katsuki, and acknowledged him. "He did, did he?"

For whatever reason, Katsuki blushed. He huffed and looked away, shrugging. "Well, obviously. It's literally what I do for a living."

A pause. "Thank you," Deku abruptly said, and this time, when Katsuki blushed, the hue of red stayed. "When can I take Toshi?"

"Uhh." Katsuki cleared his throat in hopes of ridding any embarrassing pitches. "Not right now. There's still some bullshit that needs to be taken care of, but it's not gonna take long. I can, uhh, just tell someone that you're here, though, so they can let Toshi go home quicker. I mean, if you want."

Deku blinked at him and — Katsuki really felt like he'd been slapped by this — softly laughed. "Sorry, correct me if I'm wrong, Dynamight, but isn't that an abuse of power?"

Katsuki spluttered. "I—! I just meant—! It's not an abuse of power, goddammit!"

"That officer over there begs to differ."

"S-Shut up!"

Deku laughed again.

And it did things to Katsuki's head. Confusing things. Things that he hadn't felt since middle school. Things that were supposed to be dead .

Katsuki frowned. "Whatever, Deku," he muttered. "Just… Just stay here and don't go out of sight yet. It's wrapping up in a minute."

"Mm." Deku kissed their pup's head, smiling as he burrowed further into his warmth. "Sure thing, Bakugou."

He lingered for a second, not knowing why, until he eventually turned away and headed back to where he came.

Only to be met with his band of merry nosy fuckers hiding behind a goddamn corner like some creeps . "What the f— How long have you idiots been— What the fuck !?" Katsuki gaped. "What are you doing here, hah!?"

"I knew something was up!" Kaminari exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You were nice to that pup! Like, disgustingly nice! And you hate kids!"

"Oi, I don't hate kids, I just—"

"Who is he?" Ashido demanded. "And more importantly, who is that Omega ?"

"Is he the reason why you've been so down lately?" Kirishima asked. At least he had the audacity to be a little bit concerned. "Did he break up with you? Did his pup not like you?"

"Oh, come on, Kiri, the little guy looked like he was head over heels for Bakugou. Which, I guess is kinda weird, since he's Bakugou —"

"Hey!"

"But, damn, greenhead was sort of cute," Sero mused. "Is he, like, your secret sugar baby or something?"

"He is not — Oh my fucking God." Katsuki massaged his temples and mentally counted to ten. Deku and Toshi were still in screaming range. He couldn't blow shit up here — not yet, anyway. "I am giving you two seconds to back the fuck up and rethink about what you wanna ask me because I am—" He put his thumb and index finger together in a circle. "—this close to throttling you."

There was a pause. "But your fingers are touching."

" Exactly ."

Sero was the first one to listen, raising his hands in mock surrender and stepping back. "I got a hot date tonight so I ain't gonna risk a black eye. Shit's not sexy."

"Well, I mean, Shinsou has really dark bags under his eyes and I like 'em." Kaminari shrugged, and Katsuki was ready to jump off a building.

Once everything was wrapped up and cleared, Katsuki tried to pull away and find Deku and Toshi, but that would mean bringing about another unnecessary spectacle for the dweebs. Plus, he was pretty sure they were gone by then. He couldn't smell either of their scents anymore, though his uniform still smelled faintly of Toshi.

Katsuki sighed. He hadn't said goodbye to them yet.

Wait. Them? No. No, he meant Toshi. Just Toshi. Dammit.

As they continued on with their shift, Kirishima bumped shoulders with him and asked, "So, who was that guy? You seemed close."

At this, Katsuki scoffed. "Close? Nahh. He's just…" Katsuki kicked a stray can on the sidewalk. "He's just somebody I used to know."

Kirishima frowned. "You sound sad about that."

"Goddammit, Kirishima, just— It's nothing like that. Shit's over. It was years ago. I barely— I barely know him now."

"And his pup?"

Katsuki shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "What about 'im?"

"He's…" Kirishima hesitated, like he was rolling his words around on his tongue and figuring out which ones were the right thing to say. Eventually, he settled for something simple and yet devastatingly heart-stopping. "He's cute. He kinda reminds me of you, in a way."

It took a long time before Katsuki said something to that. "He is pretty cute, yeah."

That night, Katsuki collapsed on his bed, feeling more like shit than when he first woke up, and a second later, his phone rang.

He was about ready to chuck the damn thing across the room until he saw the name flashing on his screen.

He picked up much quicker than he should have. "Deku?" He murmured.

"H-Hey," came the soft, timid voice of his ex boyfriend. "You busy?"

"I— No. No, I'm— I'm at home. Chilling. I'm not— Deku, why are you calling?"

There was silence on the other end. "Listen, I…" Deku cleared his throat. "I wanted to thank you. Again. For earlier today. I didn't— We didn't get to see you when the police cleared us, and… I don't know. Toshi kept asking for you, but you were busy and all that and I didn't— I didn't want to intrude—"

"You wouldn't have."

Deku huffed a short laugh.

"No, really," Katsuki insisted. "I wouldn't have felt, you know, bothered or anything. If you, like, pulled me aside for… for whatever. Uhh." He took a deep breath from his nose, held it, mentally called himself an idiot, and released it. "So, like, uhh. Are you good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm— I'm good. Toshi's doing well, too, considering everything. It'll probably be a few days until the daycare reopens."

"Is, umm. Is he awake?"

"He actually went to bed a few minutes ago. Wait, hold on, let me just, uhh—" There was some rustling at Deku's end, followed by the squeak of a door. "Sweetheart?"

A small, sleepy mumble answered him. Katsuki couldn't help but smile.

"Mama?"

"There's someone who wants to talk to you."

"Mm… Hello?"

"Hey, sport," Katsuki whispered.

"Uncle Kacchan!" Toshi exclaimed, a lot more awake now. "Uncle Kacchan, thank you for saving me! You were so cool. Mama said you were cool, too." Toshi giggled.

"Toshi!" Deku's embarrassed scold echoed through the speaker, making Katsuki laugh and his chest expand.

"Ah, he did, did he?" Katsuki chuckled. "Thank you. Tell your mom I said thank you, too."

"Mama, Uncle Kacchan said thank you for calling him cool."

"Bakugou, I did not outright say you were cool," Deku added, a blush undoubtedly spreading over his freckled cheeks.

Katsuki put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh. "Ah, sure, sure. Um, so, Toshi. How are you holdin' up?"

"I'm alright. Mama's gonna take me to the diner tomorrow so I won't get lonely."

"Ah, daycare's still a wreck, huh?"

"Mm."

"Well, have fun with your mom, 'kay? Be good. He still has to work, so you can't fuck too much shit up and distract him there. Ya hear me, brat?"

"Okaaaay."

"Good, good. Now, go back to sleep. I love you."

A yawn. "Hmm… I love you, too, Uncle Kacchan. Bye-bye."

"Bye."

Katsuki had thought that that would be the end of the phone call, but then Deku's voice came back to the speaker. "Hello?"

"Ah, yeah?"

There was the click of a door before Deku continued, "Umm. I— Hah. I just…"

"What?"

A pause, and then, "You— What you said. About pulling you away and— I just—" Deku sighed sharply. "I… appreciate the thought, I do, but… You know we can't be associated with each other, right?"

Katsuki fell silent.

"I mean, like, it was fine today because it was just you — a pro hero — giving me my son and all. And I was wearing my uniform so I didn't, like, look I was flirting with you— Not that I was ! I mean— I looked plain and unassuming and totally not your type—"

"Wait—"

"And I'm grateful that you brought Toshi to me because otherwise I would've completely freaked out and most likely went feral on that officer and— and I'm getting off track, umm." Deku huffed a short laugh. Katsuki wasn't laughing. "The point is, I just— I just hope you understand that I want to keep our distance. I don't want any speculations— especially towards Toshi. He's too young for gossip mags. Those damn vultures would tear him apart."

Katsuki frowned at his ceiling, dark saved for a few streaks of light coming from his window. He sat up slowly, his body feeling like it was pulling on chains.

"Umm, B-Bakugou? Are you there?"

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"What about you, Deku?" Katsuki repeated. "What would you do if those… speculations were about you?"

"You mean about… You and me?"

"... Yeah."

There was a long stretch of silence; so long that Katsuki thought he had hung up until Deku's voice came back to him, reserved and clipped, "Well, there's nothing left to talk about now, is there?"

Katsuki fisted a hand in his hair, silently telling himself over and over again that his answer didn't hurt. It did not hurt because Deku was right. There was nothing left between them, there was no Kacchan and Deku anymore, and there was definitely no 'us' between them either.

So why the fuck did he feel like he was suffocating?

"Bakugou."

"I'm here," he gritted out. "Yeah. Yeah, I heard you."

"Okay. So, umm, that's all I wanted to say." A pause. "Did you want to add something?"

Yes.

"No," he said instead. "Listen, it's late, and—"

"Oh, yeah, right—"

"—I have an early start tomorrow so I should—"

"Right, right—"

"Deku."

"Ah— Mm. Y-Yes?"

"I'm… I'm still coming over for the weekend. Like, you know, as usual. To see Toshi."

"Oh. Yeah. I mean, yeah , sure. Okay."

"Okay." Katsuki gripped his phone tighter. "Good… Goodnight."

A pause. "Good…" Deku cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

When they hung up, Katsuki pulled out their family photo from his drawer. He lit one hand ablaze while the other held the photograph. Seconds ticked by, maybe even hours, until Katsuki eventually extinguished his flames and put the photograph back once more.

Chapter Text

Deku was acting weird. He wasn't rambling, he wasn't muttering to himself, and he wasn't even chewing his sandwich, for fuck's sake.

"Oi," Katsuki said, effectively snapping his boyfriend out of whatever spell he was in.

"Ahh! Ah, umm, y-yes, Kacchan?" Deku stuttered, faking a laugh. "S-Sorry, I was, umm, thinking about something."

"You think out loud, Deku." Katsuki sighed, putting away his own lunch in favor of looking at him. "What's the matter?"

"Umm…" Deku laughed again, but it was weaker, more obvious that he was distressed. His pine and earth scent was tinged with rain. "I was just… wondering."

"About?"

"There's just been… Okay, promise you won't get mad."

"What the fuck, Deku? What happened?" Katsuki bristled. "Did some fucker bully you again?"

"No!" Deku was too quick to deny it. Katsuki growled and stood up, his Alpha barking angrily at the mere prospect of its mate being mistreated, but Deku stopped him with a hand around his bicep. "No, Kacchan, come back, please? Come back. I'm okay."

"But someone—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. Hey, come here. Come here. Shh." Deku stepped into his space, purring, butting his head against the underside of his chin in hopes of calming him down. It was working, and Katsuki found himself relaxing with each nuzzle. When he finally huffed and nuzzled back, Deku hummed and said, "That's it. Everything's okay, Alpha. I'm okay."

"But someone was bothering you." It was more of a whine than a growl, but he masked it by clicking his tongue and glaring at nothing.

"They didn't. Um, at least, not to my face. I just overheard them, and…"

"Overheard what?"

Deku sighed and pulled away. "It's nothing major. I just overheard some girls say that they, umm, didn't like… you… dating me."

When he heard that, Katsuki couldn't help but scoff. "What?" He asked incredulously.

"They don't like you dating me because you're—" Deku gestured flippantly at his torso. "—and I'm just… a quirkless loser."

"Hey, you are not a loser."

"Ha, yeah." Deku wrapped his arms around himself and looked away, a tight smile plastered on his face like a bandage. "Sure I'm not."

"Deku." Katsuki furrowed his brows, and he was about to take his chin in his hand before Deku stepped back.

"Kacchan, what's the point of dating me anyway?" He asked. "Lots of people like you. You could have a pretty girl instead, a-and they'd have a really cool quirk and be strong like you. You could have someone in UA, even." He sniffled, and when he looked up to meet his bewildered gaze, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I just… I'm sorry, I just— I was just thinking that m-maybe we aren't gonna last anyway, a-and I thought maybe you'd want to pursue someone else who's—"

"Deku, you had better shut up right now before I get really pissed," Katsuki growled. He took the last step forward and crowded Deku with his scent, laced with gunpowder and possessiveness that visibly got Deku to whimper and lean into him.

"K-Kacchan…"

A rumble made his way through his chest as he rubbed his cheek against the top of his boyfriend's curls. "I don't fucking want anybody else," he grumbled. "They can all go screw themselves if they think I should get another mate. I've got one already, and my mate's the fucking best. Why the fuck would I ever court someone I didn't think was good enough for me, hah? Answer me, dipshit."

"Kacchan!" Deku laughed into his collar. His arms went around him then, pulling him closer. Katsuki hid his blush by burying his face in his hair, smelling the happiness radiating off him like a spring breeze. "I don't think it's very nice to call your mate 'dipshit' now, is it?"

"Fuck you," Katsuki mumbled. He involuntarily purred when he felt a light kiss on his neck. "You are a dipshit after letting some extras get into your head like that. Stupid nerd."

"I'm sorry." Another kiss to his neck, followed by a quick rub of his nose against his scent gland. Katsuki hummed appreciatively. "I guess I just… couldn't stop thinking about it. About how… maybe this won't last and that you might want somebody else. Somebody more…" Deku shrugged. "Heroic, I guess."

"Deku…" Katsuki pulled away just enough to look at him. "Deku, is this about me going to UA? Is that what this is all about?"

"Ah!" Deku's face lit up in scarlet, and he tried to scramble away, but Katsuki caught him fast. "Kacchan, that's— I don't—"

"Deku."

"I want you to go to UA, of course I do!" Deku said, but then his determination slowly trickled out of his eyes, and he was left a little dim. A little sad. "But I guess I'm just… worried. About the long distance thing. And how you might…"

"How I might be attracted to someone there?"

Deku bit his lip, but he nodded eventually.

Katsuki released a mighty sigh before flicking his boyfriend's forehead, eliciting a pained yelp. "Ow! Kacchan, what was that for?"

"For being an idiot , that's what! Of course I'm not gonna! I told you two minutes ago that I don't want another mate! I just want you !"

Just as the last words left his mouth, his chest swelled and puffed with a cocktail of embarrassment, pride, love, and mortification. His Alpha was howling, overjoyed after staking his claim, but the rational part of his brain was freaking out because he had basically just declared his undying love or some disgusting shit.

And apparently Deku had caught that declaration as well, because he was now flushed like a boiled lobster, and his scent was bursting with flowers. "K-K-Kacchan, that's—!"

“S-Shut up—!”

“Kacchan.” Deku hugged him tightly — so tightly that he felt his heart was going to pop like a balloon. “I love you.”

Katsuki spluttered, his brain hiccuping and coughing like a broken down engine, but he recovered enough to huff and pat his unruly head of curls. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “I love you, too. So don’t worry about anything else.” Katsuki kissed his forehead. “You’re the only one I want, Deku.”

This was the third fucking time Deku had called him to babysit on a Tuesday night. On a normal day, this would’ve delighted him — any chance of seeing his pup was a blessing to him — but this wasn’t fucking normal . Normal would be Deku having to take a night shift at his job. Normal would be Deku having to go to a Heat House for his cycle for a couple of days. What wasn’t normal was Deku going on a stupid fucking date with God knows who and coming home reeking of an unknown Alpha and Katsuki. Fucking. Hated it.

The worst part of it, though? He had no idea why he hated it.

Sure, he got to spend more time with his pup like this, and that alone should be able to tie him down for a bit, but that wasn’t enough to bury the bitterness in his chest every time Deku went out the door looking like sex on a stick.

And by God , Deku looked so fucking delectable on these Tuesday nights. Makeup complimenting his already-beautiful eyes, high heels making his legs longer, clothes begging to be ripped and discarded — what kind of Alpha could resist? Katsuki argued with him on a daily basis and he would still catch himself drooling from time to time. It was natural, he thought. He was only an Alpha. That had nothing to do with their past relationship.

But it was just that it sucked balls that Deku went out like that for somebody he didn’t even know, somebody that was challenging his Alpha for a spot in this house, in Deku’s life, and he hated it. He hated that he hated it because goddammit Katsuki, you and Deku are over. Why the hell are you upset about Deku fucking another knot? Deku wouldn’t if you ever found another Omega. Maybe.

Would Deku be upset — like he was right now — if he’d found someone else, too?

Katsuki scoffed bitterly. Probably not.

So what was the matter with him?

“Uncle Kacchan, you’re spacing out again.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Nope.” Katsuki groaned as he hoisted his pup onto his lap, ruffling his hair and drinking up his annoyed little noises at the treatment. “Not spacing out. See?”

“You were a minute ago!” Toshi persisted. “Are you thinking about hero stuff?”

“Nahh. It’s been pretty easy these past few days.”

“Then are you thinking about food?”

“Why, you hungry?”

“Maybe a little,” Toshi admitted sheepishly.

“Brat. Should’ve told me earlier.”

“But you were spacing out!”

“I was not, Toshi!”

His mood then dampened significantly more when Deku came home. With Toshi safe and sound in bed, Katsuki had nothing to hold himself back from growling and bristling from the smell of another Alpha, so potent and disgusting, latching onto his mate — no, not mate, his ex. His ex — like claws claiming something that should’ve been his .

“Put those fangs away right now before I kick you out, Bakugou,” Deku hissed, tossing his purse onto the table. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, turning away. “Yeah, well, make that two of us.”

He heard him sigh. “Whatever. Thanks for babysitting and everything, but you should go now.”

Katsuki barked a bitter laugh. “Kicking me out already, Deku?”

Deku rolled his eyes and folded his arms in front of his chest — which was nearly popping through his tight button up. Fuck. “You say that as if you want to be here any longer.”

“I…” Quickly shaking his head to rid the image of milky skin, Katsuki said, “I never said otherwise.”

“Mm-hmm.” Deku gave him a look, but Katsuki was too distracted by the bruises peeking out from his collar. Hickies. He had to restrain himself from snarling at them. “How was Toshi?”

Katsuki was silent.

“Bakugou.”

“What do you see in him anyway?” Katsuki asked. “Like. Why now? After everything.”

Deku looked at him, and Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at him like that. He was looking at him like he was a book, an encyclopedia that he was determined to study and recite by heart, to put apart and reconstruct by memory alone. He wondered what he looked like to him now, after having so many pages burnt and ripped out.

Maybe that was why they had so many miscommunications and arguments; they had forgotten where the missing pages were, had forgotten how to read each other without them.

“What do you mean?” Deku asked, scoffing softly. He leaned against the kitchen counter, shrugged, and said to the floor between them, “Why not now? What’s wrong with now?”

Huh. No screaming, no indignant comment about privacy; this was new. Maybe Deku had something to drink earlier, or maybe it was that time of the year where he felt he could be civil with him for once. Whatever it was, Katsuki wasn’t about to let that feeling slip by too quickly.

After a minute, Katsuki shrugged, too. “Nothing, I guess. It’s just been, what, five years? And you chose now. Why not the years before?” He paused. “What’s so special about now?”

Deku’s mouth twitched, almost resembling a smile. “I don’t know. It’s the year Toshi got his quirk? It’s the year I finally have a stable job? It’s not— It’s not like any other year. It’s… easier, I guess. It’s easier for me now.”

“You have more time?”

“No, not time.”

“Then?”

Deku chewed on his pink lips. Katsuki had to blink a few times to pull his focus away from them and back to that space between his eyebrows — not his eyes. His eyes tended to drown him, and they were harder for him to look away sometimes. “Freedom,” he finally said. “Freedom of meeting and opening up to other people, of acknowledging my mistakes.” He paused. “Of you.”

He was surprised at that. “Me?”

“Your scent is gone,” he whispered, like it was a secret between them. “From me, I mean. This was the year I noticed that I don’t smell like you at all anymore.”

“... Deku, I haven’t scented you in years. It faded a long time ago.”

“I know. But, ahh— I-It’s like my nose knows that — It knew years ago — but my… heart. My heart just figured it out this year.” Deku chuckled, shrugging again. “Does that sound weird? I guess it does. We’ve been apart for so long but I guess… I didn’t…”

All of a sudden, his breath stopped in his throat, stuck there, and made his voice smaller as he murmured, almost desperately, as desperately as he needed air, “You didn’t what?”

Deku laughed again, but it was laced with remorse, and his body shook with it as he looked straight into his eyes — drowning him, drowning him — and said, “I didn’t know if I could ever move on from you. If I… If I could ever stop wanting to smell like you, like I used to.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened in mute shock, and the first thought that came to his mind was, “That’s not fair.”

That’s not fair. How could Deku say that, with those green eyes shining with such deep, deep truth and longing, with his scent coiling around his throat like forest vines and honey, and with— with all these fucking years of hatred and fights behind them; how could he fucking say that and expect him to not regret every decision he had ever made in the past five years?

This… This wasn’t fucking fair.

And yet a piece of him — his heart, his soul, his Alpha, whatever you wanted to call it — was drawn towards him. The past him. The him that he had abandoned, the him that had just found out that he was pregnant with their pup. He wanted to go back to him and take him in his arms and never let go.

He was stepping towards him before he could think of stopping himself, and Deku let him approach until he was caged between his arms and the kitchen counter, until they shared the same breath — similar to the way they had shared most of their lives together and had continued to share it despite everything.

At this moment, with Deku panting hot air against his sweaty neck, with their pup soundly sleeping in the house, with their hearts beating in time like a mating song, Katsuki couldn’t remember why he had ever chosen a life without his mate and why he had survived for so long afterwards. Because, frankly, when was the last time he had felt so… alive ? When was the last time he breathed and felt the desire to take lungfuls and lungfuls of air — air tinted with pine and sweet grass?

Katsuki whined under his breath, overwhelmed, drunk. What was happening to him?

“Kacchan…”

A violent shiver ran down his spine, and he ducked his head to his mate’s neck, right over his scent gland and—

—and like glass, his perfect world shattered at his feet when Deku all but pushed him away. “You need to leave,” Deku said shakily. He was breathing heavily, and he was refusing to meet his gaze. “Leave, leave, now .”

“Deku, what the fuck?” Katsuki hissed, more and more of himself coming back to his lax body. He couldn’t tell if he wanted himself back or not yet. “You can’t tell me to fuck off after you— You—”

“After I what?” Deku shot back. His eyes were glistening, but his tongue was all venom as he said, “You— You can’t do that. We can’t do that anymore. I’ve moved on, okay? All I said back there— It was me telling you that I’m not like that anymore! I’ve moved on, I’ve moved on , I have another Alpha now, and you need to leave .”

“Deku— Izuku, please, I—”

“Don’t!” Deku yelled desperately. “Please, please, don’t. We can’t do this anymore, alright? We’re fine the way we are. We can’t change anymore.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth, silencing his Alpha’s pained howl. “I don’t want to be fine if it’s going to be like this,” he said. “Deku, for once in your life, be honest with me. Don’t fucking show me the door every time a little bit of you slips out.”

“And just what slipped out, huh?” Deku demanded, still not looking at him, still locking himself away from his reach. “The Deku you’re looking at right now is all that’s left, okay!? I don’t have anything to show you because I just don’t have anything else for you!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“ Why ?”

“Because,” Katsuki started, his hand itching to hold him, make him look at him, but unable to make that move. “You called me ‘Kacchan’ again.”

The grenette tensed like he’d just been shot. An emotion passed over his face, but it was gone before Katsuki could identify it.

“Deku.”

“I have a boyfriend now, okay?” He said, but it sounded more like he was admitting defeat than anything. “I’m moving on. You can’t make me go back again. We can’t go back. You’ve made your decision, remember?”

How could he not? How, when their family photo was still in his house, when his heart still did a little flip whenever he called, when all he wanted to do was scent him and comfort him and take him under the covers?

“Tell me…” Deku bit his lip. “If given the chance… If we could go back to that living room with our parents… would you have chosen me?”

Katsuki turned away. “Deku, don’t—”

“Would you have chosen me ?” Deku repeated, sobbing. “Be a fucking man and answer me , goddammit!”

Katsuki buried his face in his hands — hands that had torn their relationship right through the middle at the mere age of fifteen. Shame filled his throat, flooding his mouth and over his lips, dripping down to the floor, because he knew his answer long before the question even arose. He was ashamed because even after five years of this, nothing had ever really changed.

Katsuki gestured to the door, to the world beyond these walls, and whispered, “I love what I do, Deku.”

A bitter laugh erupted from his mouth, and Deku nodded with a smile. “You loved me, too, once, remember?”

How could he not?

How could he not ?

How could he not when that’s all he ever thinks about ?

“We’re better off this way,” Deku said, wiping his eyes with a light sniffle. “And, you know, maybe someday you’ll find somebody new, too. I did, and I’m a quirkless loser compared to you, right?”

Hey, you are not a loser.

“So, chin up, Bakugou. Go meet someone and forget we ever happened. It won’t be that hard, I’m sure.”

Katsuki blinked, suddenly remembering something his past self had once said, but he was too scared to listen, too scared of what it could mean, so he plugged his ears and walked away from it.

When he was escorted to the front door, Katsuki took one step, and then he turned back — because, really, what else had he done all these years? He had only ever looked back. “Hey, Deku?” He said, so softly that he was sure his name had been swept away by the wind. His gaze flicked to the bruises and teeth marks littering his ex’s skin. “Your new Alpha. Does he treat you right?”

He was surprised at the speed of which Deku pulled his top over his neck, like he’d just been caught naked. For a long second, Deku said nothing, just holding on to the collar of his top, before he eventually settled on something to say. “I’ll see you this weekend, Bakugou.”

And then, he shut the door with a click.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Deku looked beautiful while crying.

Only sometimes, though. Most of the time, Katsuki absolutely despised seeing his mate cry — it meant that someone had hurt him. And, with Deku being Quirkless and an Omega to boot, him getting hurt was a regular occurrence in their shitty ass middle school. Katsuki had thought that, after getting together, the bullying would stop — and it did for a time — but the jeers and names only shifted from “You’re a fucking loser” to “You’re fucking up Bakugou’s future, slut”. Some of that acid landed on Katsuki as well, but Katsuki was immune to every and all bullshit, so he didn’t even feel any pressure from them. Deku, on the other hand, wasn’t as stone cold as he was — and frankly, Katsuki didn’t want him to be. He was going off on a tangent here, but he needed to say that Deku being so soft and wide-eyed and receptive to everything around him, good and bad, with eyes shining every time he saw a dog and downcast when a little rain dampened their date, was the reason Katsuki fell quickly in love with him. He would never ask his Deku to change if he could bend the world to their will instead.

Anyway, back to Deku crying. It was just— it was awful most of the time, and it stirred his Alpha much more than any villain could. But, sometimes… like this…

Deku hiccuped as he dug the back of his head deeper into the pillow, his breath leaving him in mighty pants. “Ka…” He sniffed. “Kacchan…”

He was beautiful when he cried his name out while they made quiet, gentle love in Katsuki’s den.

"M'here," Katsuki purred, voice low and reserved for his mate. Nobody else had ever heard him be this hushed. "M'right here, sweetheart."

And by God was he here, here in this moment, wrapped up in his mate on a Thursday night with their textbooks and clothes littered on the floor, forgotten. They were connected in the most primal and intimate way possible, not just physically but emotionally as well. Katsuki could feel their heartbeats syncing, could feel the self-doubt from Deku's shoulders melt away under his fingers. It was beautiful and earth-shattering. It was the only time Katsuki allowed Deku's tears to fall freely.

Deku gasped again and clawed his hands against the bone of his shoulders. "Aahhn," he sobbed, eyes trained on him like jewels underwater. "I— Not much— longer, I—"

Katsuki grunted, his hips crashing messily against the other's.

"Kacchan—" Deku grabbed the back of his neck and brought him down, down until Deku's mouth was connecting against the side of his jaw when he was probably aiming for a kiss — but Katsuki didn't mind the clumsiness. He cherished it, cherished him . "Kacch— Ah, ah , ALPHA , my Alpha, I love you, I love you, please, please, please, I'm so in love with you , aaahh, I—"

Katsuki howled and buried his elongated nails into his mattress, raked jagged lines into the sheets and foam, and buried his fangs next into the pillow, inches from his boyfriend's scent gland. He shuddered violently as he released into the condom, and through the haze of his Alpha's instincts, he felt Deku release and cry anew.

Mm. Fuck.

"Fuck," he said aloud. Slowly, he lifted his hand and his mouth from his ruined bed and pillow. He clicked his tongue quietly. "Carried away," he murmured to himself. He was barely registering that he was talking at all. The haze was still thick.

But then the fog started to clear as he felt small kisses trail up from his throat to his jaw. "Kacchan…?" The inquiry was small, far away, but there. Underneath him. "Hey."

"Hmm." Katsuki closed his eyes and dropped his nose in sweaty, curly hair that smelled like fresh morning dew on grass. "Mm. Wow. Hi."

Deku giggled. "Hi," he parroted, no less sweet and fucked out. He wiggled a bit and hummed. "You didn't knot?"

"No." Carefully, Katsuki slipped himself out and tossed the condom into the trash. He settled himself back into the comforting warmth of his mate right after, not wasting a second to curl against him and tuck him away under his chin. "My rut was a few days ago. It's hit or miss, during these days."

"Oh. I'd thought, you know, when you… bit— bit the pillow, I'd thought you'd…"

Words were slow on his tongue. As much as his ramblings endeared him, Katsuki also liked these rare moments where his tongue was loose and speechless. They were reserved just for him, too, after all. "Yeah," he eventually said. "My Alpha took over for a second there. But I beat him down. Didn't wanna hurt you. My Alpha doesn't either, obviously, but it's stupid and horny most of the time." That got a chuckle from the nerd. Katsuki yawned against his hair. "Can't let— Can't let it do things. To you. I won't let it, don't worry."

"Kacchan," Deku said. "I'm not worried. I know you'd never hurt me. I trust you."

"Of course you fucking can. Don't be an idiot. Just sayin' that my Alpha can be an ass sometimes, is all."

"It likes it when I tell you I love you."

Katsuki scoffs, but it's merely a breath. He rubbed his cheek against the top of his boyfriend's head. He was getting sleepy. Shit. He always got sleepy after sex. He was thankful that his parents were out of town for business tonight. Auntie Inko knew where her son was, too, so they could crash here and never get up again.

"Of course it does," he murmured. "I do."

Deku giggled again, but it was muffled against his chest. Cute. Katsuki rubbed his back and closed his eyes.

"Hey, Kacchan."

He was slow to respond, sleep already taking both his feet and dragging him away from the world. "Hmm."

"You could never hurt me," he repeated, voice suddenly firm and close. He brought Katsuki's hand up against his neck — his scent gland — and Katsuki hummed as he passed the pad of his thumb against the skin. "I love you."

"Love you," Katsuki slurred, half repeating and half declaring.

"You know I'm yours."

"Mm. Mine." He exhaled. "Yours."

The fingers around his tightened. "You will never hurt me, okay? No matter what. I just… need you to know that."

Ahh. Too many words. He liked it better when Deku was talking to him four words at a time. "Sleep," he grumbled.

He heard Deku snort once, but he didn't catch anything else he said as he quickly fell asleep.

When Katsuki woke up, it was to a blaring phone and a headache. Katsuki growled loudly as he threw an arm over his eyes and searched blindly for his phone with his other hand. When he found it, he accepted the call and shouted, "What the fuck do you want !?"

"Uhh," came Kaminari's voice. "Not a good time?"

Katsuki hung up and threw the phone back on the bedside table. It rung again.

Katsuki spat a million curses at once as he sat up and answered the damn thing. "You had better be dying, Pikachu."

"I am!" Kaminari exclaimed. "I'm dying of boredom ! I—"

Katsuki ended the call, and waited. It rang again. "Alright, you've just booked your own funeral. I'm coming over there to snap your skinny little neck."

"See, I told you he's gonna come!" Kaminari said to some bloke there. "Listen, listen, Bakugou, you know you owe us for ditching boys night, right? Riiight?"

Katsuki growled, but said nothing.

"Soooo, since this is a Saturday—"

"I can't come."

"What!" Kaminari whined. "But you just said—"

"I didn't say shit, dirtbag. I can't come. I got somewhere to be."

"Dammit, you always got somewhere to be on weekends."

"I'm a busy ass pro hero. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"Mean. The guys are all here at my place. We're gonna play some video games and drink. Come on."

"I said I—" Cutting off his sentence was a notification of another incoming call. It was Deku. "Shit. Gotta go."

"Bakugou? Hey—"

Bakugou ended Kaminari's call and accepted Deku's. "Hel—" Bakugou cleared his throat. "Hello."

"Bakugou, hi, umm." Deku sounded winded. Did he just get back from a morning jog? "Uhh, listen. You don't have to come today. Me and Toshi are going out."

Katsuki furrowed his brows. "Out?"

"Yeah, we—" There was suddenly a sound, or a voice, but it was muffled and far away. "Yes, yes, sweetheart, gimme a second?"

Katsuki's heart jumped at the pet name, unwarranted images of Deku in the dark, looking up at him with jewels in his eyes entering his mind, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that it wasn't meant for him. Deku was talking to someone else there. Toshi, probably. Katsuki raked his hand through his hair and sighed, waiting for Deku to get back on the phone.

"Okay, okay— Hi, sorry, I was—" Deku coughed. "Ah. Anyway. Sorry, yeah, we're gonna go out. You can come by next weekend, or next Tuesday, I guess, but I'll text you later about that if I'm—"

"Wait," Katsuki interrupted. "Why not tomorrow?"

"I…" Deku started, but never finished.

"What?"

"You were here last Tuesday, Bakugou," Deku switched to being indignant. "Goddammit, it's one weekend, one weekend where I want to be with my own fucking pup. Is that too much to ask?"

"Oh, wow, way to make this into a fight, shitty Deku."

"Excuse me!? I'm not the one who's making a fuss over a weekend, Bakugou. You literally saw him a few days ago, and now I just want to spend some time with my own son and you're—"

He needed some goddamn coffee.

Katsuki padded into his kitchen and placed his phone on the counter, Deku chattering away and angry but blissfully muffled with the speaker off. Katsuki went about making his coffee. When he finally poured a cup, he went back to put his phone against his ear, and Deku was still rambling.

"—believe you didn't even consider that I wanted to—"

"Deku."

"What!?"

"You're still pissed about what happened." A statement. Not a question.

And all at once, words stopped in between Deku's teeth.

Katsuki took a long, much-needed sip from his coffee. He put the cup down and leaned back against the counter. "Deku?"

"Nothing happened," Deku eventually said, quiet, a sharp contrast to his previous rant. It somehow weighed more, too. "Nothing, you hear me? That was— A fight. Like any other fight."

"It wasn't," Katsuki pressed on. He didn't know why he needed to, though, he just knew that it wasn't like any other fight, and he needed Deku to acknowledge that. To lose sleep over it the way he'd been for days. "Goddammit, Deku, if you're gonna bitch at me at eight in the morning then fucking bitch, I don't give a shit, but the least you can do is mean it."

Deku was silent again, for one, two, three, four seconds, until there was the sound of a door and a voice, and Deku said, "I have to go."

Katsuki clicked his tongue and gripped his hair. "Fuck's sake , Deku."

"Just don't—" Deku paused. "Don't come this weekend, alright? Bye."

"Dek—" The line went dead.

Katsuki growled and chucked his phone in the sink, wanted to drown it in water but then decided against it, and picked it back up and called Kaminari. “Hello?”

“I’ll be there in an hour,” Katsuki said, and hung up in the middle of those fuckers cheering.

They hadn’t talked about it. Katsuki and Deku. About what happened in Deku’s kitchen. There had been no reason for either of them to call except for that Saturday morning, and it was clear that it needed to be talked about. To be addressed. In truth, Katsuki himself didn’t know what it was, what it had become. It’d been a fight, like Deku said, but he knew it’d been different.

They’d never gotten that close to each other before. And Deku called him Kacchan again, after five years. There’d been… been… 

Kaminari suddenly whooped when he successfully blue-shelled Sero in their Mario Kart round.

Katsuki stared. What, a spark? Had there been a spark? He’d felt like his skin was prickling, like the split second before he used his explosion Quirk. But, he hadn’t been using his Quirk at the time. So, what spark was it? What did it mean?

The round ended. Katsuki was dead last. Katsuki growled and tossed the controller on the sofa. “M’getting a drink.”

“Man, you suck at this, huh?” Kaminari hummed. “We’ve been playing for half an hour and you haven’t won once.”

“Fuck off, Sparky. It’s a shitty ass game for shitty ass kids anyway.”

“Hey, you’re never too old for Mario Kart!”

“And besides,” Sero piped in. “You’re just saying that because you’re shit at it.”

“I am not!”

“Lighten up, Bakubro,” Kirishima laughed. “You’re probably just wound up from work. I mean, have you ever taken a day off since you debuted? You’re stressed out, man.”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki said again. He grabbed a beer can from Kaminari’s fridge. “I like being busy.”

“You’re too busy , man!” Kaminari yelled, already in another round with Kirishima. Sero was hanging back to smoke. “Like, think about it! You hardly ever joined us in high school, too. Maybe you’re shit at Mario Kart because you never had fun. That’s so sad!”

“Bro, what the hell, you can’t say something like that and blue-shell me at once! I can’t take you seriously!” Kirishima said.

“Multitask, Kiri, multitask!” Kaminari said. “And anyway, I’m being completely serious! You gotta loosen up, Bakugou. You’re only 20. Fool around a little. It won’t kill you or anything.”

“How fucking dare you say that when Sero’s literally smoking weed right next to you,” Katsuki grumbled as he took a seat on the couch again, beer in hand, opposite of Sero.

“Weed’s not gonna kill you, either, y’know,” Sero said, taking another drag. “In fact, it might do wonders for your anger issues.”

“You know what else would do wonders for me? Throwing you out the window.”

“Like I said.” Sero huffed a cloud of smoke. “Anger issues. Wonders.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m drinking, aren’t I? It’s doing fucking wonders on me already.”

“Bro, you’re so wound up today,” Kirishima commented. “Like, more than usual. Is something up?”

Katsuki took a long sip from his can. “No.”

“He’s probably just sour about being dumped by that cute waiter with the pup,” Kaminari said.

And like a gust of wind in a storm, Katsuki launched himself at Kaminari and pinned him to the floor, snarling. The controller in his hand skidded across the floor. The game ended.

“What the fuck did you say!?” Katsuki screamed in his face, hackles raised and fangs aching in his gums. “How the fuck did you know!? I’ll kill you, fucker, I’ll kill you !”

“ Bakugou !”

“Shit, man, get off me!” Kaminari yelled, short nails clawing against Katsuki’s hands around his neck. “Get off me !” A bolt of lightning struck Katsuki’s nerves, not high enough to leave lasting damage, but enough to make him howl in pain and fall sideways, releasing the Beta. “ Fuck you, Bakugou, what the hell was that for!?”

Katsuki snapped his teeth at him, making a move to strangle him again, but Kirishima was quick to hold him down and pin his arms behind his back. “Bakugou, stop!” Kirishima snapped. Katsuki thrashed and spat venom at the others. “ Submit ,” Kirishima hissed, and a second later, the redheaded Alpha bit Katsuki’s nape in a show of dominance. Katsuki whined and tried to shake him off, but Kirishima’s fangs plus his naturally sharp teeth held fast, and it took no time at all for Katsuki to still.

Slowly, Kirishima released his wrists, and when Katsuki still didn’t move, he got off from his back and let his body come back to functionality. Katsuki groaned as he sat up and put his head in his hands. His head was pounding away, like it was going to explode.

“Bakugou,” Kaminari said, breaking the deafening silence. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Katsuki took a breath, which rattled his chest and lungs. “M’sorry,” was all he managed.

“Sorry my ass, you nearly tore my throat open!”

“Kaminari,” Kirishima tried to placate, but the Beta didn’t want to hear it.

“Get out of my apartment. And don’t fucking come back until you’ve gotten your shit together.”

“Bro, come on, we can talk about this.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Kirishima. You’re an Alpha. You can make him submit. I don’t have that luxury, alright?” His eyes glanced at Katsuki, who was still unmoving on the floor. “But, I guess, if being an Alpha made me batshit crazy, I wouldn’t want to be one anyway.”

Katsuki said nothing. He was avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“I fucking said get out, Bakugou.”

Katsuki hummed, and got up. Kirishima held his arm, but he batted his hand away and grabbed his stuff from the table and left.

His world was whirling. Between his outburst, Kaminari’s electricity shot, and Kirishima’s submitting bite, he was left unstable on his own two feet, and in the middle of the hallway, he stumbled and leaned his back against the wall. He raked his hand up his face and through his hair, then gripped the locks at the top of his head until it hurt.

Shit. Shit.

He couldn’t think .

The sound of a door clicking startled him. To his surprise, it was Sero who came. Sero walked over and wordlessly leaned his back against the space next to him. He dug into his pockets, grabbed his hand, and slapped three joints onto his palm.

“Smoke ‘em,” Sero said. “Just try. They’ll help you relax, I promise.”

Katsuki’s body was too lax and useless to muster up any sort of protest. So, instead, he shoved the weed into his pocket and said, “Thanks.”

Sero nodded, humming. “Me and Kiri are gonna talk to Kaminari. Do some damage control.”

Katsuki mumbled something that could’ve been a human response.

“What even happened back there, huh?”

Katsuki shook his head, meaning to leave, but Sero’s hand on his shoulder was enough to put him back in place. Hell, a six-year-old would be able to shove him around at the rate his body was going. 

“Bakugou, it’s me. Just talk to me, dammit.”

“Got nothin’ to say to you,” Katsuki huffed tiredly.

Sero scoffed. “Right,” he sighed. “You didn’t have anything to say to us either in school.”

“Fuck off. That’s my fucking privacy.”

“I get that it is, but come on. After jumping one of us like that, I would think you owed us a piece of that privacy.”

“It’s…” Katsuki screwed his eyes shut, fighting another headache. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“S’not just mine to share.”

Sero was silent for a moment. “What did you mean by ‘how did you know’?”

“What?”

“That’s what you said to Kami. ‘How did you know?’ Know what?” When Katsuki said nothing, he continued, “Is it true, then? That you’re with the Omega from the Musutafu Daycare fight?”

“No,” he said, because it was true. Deku wasn’t his. He was some other Alpha’s now.

And it killed him.

“But this— funk you’re in, or whatever, it’s because of him?”

With a groan, Katsuki got off the wall and stumbled for the elevator.

Sero, the piece of shit that didn’t know when to quit, jogged next to him. The Beta had the decency to press the button when Katsuki’s hands were shaking too badly to do it himself. “I’m taking your silence as a yes, by the way.”

“Fuck off.” Katsuki paused. “Don’t tell anyone,” he added quietly.

The elevator dinged and opened. Katsuki dragged himself inside and Sero pressed the lobby button for him. His pack member smiled thinly and nodded. “‘Course,” he said, and the doors closed. “Just smoke the weed and get your shit together, eh?” Came his loud ass remark as Katsuki descended. The blond rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall again. While he waited for the numbers to go down, Katsuki looked at his reflection in the elevator walls.

For a moment, he thought green eyes were looking back at him, but when he blinked, he only saw red. Red, red, red, and only red. Then, he thought about Toshi, and Toshi’s eyes. He took pride that his pup inherited his eyes, a part of him, but sometimes at night, he thought he wouldn’t have minded if Toshi had inherited green eyes instead.

He walked home. He was in no shape to drive, so he opted to leave his car there for the time being. He couldn’t call a taxi, because fuck him if any taxi driver blabbed about his pathetic state to the vultures. “Dynamight: Intoxicated After Leaving a Certain Someone’s Apartment?” Bah. He didn’t need his PR team having a fit with him. He’d rather walk and risk getting hit by a bus.

To his misfortune, no bus had hit him, and he got home in one piece. He was alone in his house, at one in the afternoon, starving, and left to wallow in an absence so deep that he couldn’t put his finger where the hole was anymore.

He missed him. Ah. Who was ‘him’? He missed him so much, it ached.

He needed a shower. He kicked off his shoes and stripped and dragged himself under the hot spray. When he got his loofah and soap, the scent of pine entered his nose, and he whimpered and dropped the two things and sobbed.

Him. He missed him so much.

So much, so much, so much , his Alpha whined as it curled into a tight ball in the corner of his mind. Miss Omega so much.

Katsuki sank to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, sadness overwhelming, loneliness crashing too hard and too fast, and he wept until the water turned cold. The loofah and pine-scented soap were under the sink, discarded. Painful. Stabs to a salt-ridden wound.

Minutes passed. Hours passed. Years — five years — passed by him in monochromes of green on red, red on green, until finally the leftover shocks left his body and Kirishima’s bite mark faded into pink crescents. Katsuki blinked, then closed his eyes again when water got into his eyes. He got up and shut off the water, sighed, and took a towel from his rack. As he dried himself off, he looked in the fogged-up mirror, and his face twisted in disgust when he saw the state of his eyes.

Red. So red. From his irises to the whites of his eyes to the skin around them.

He looked down, away, and found the loofah and soap. He held them both in his hands, as if weighing them, and when the telltale pine scent hit his nose again, Katsuki inhaled, paused, and tossed them back in his shower stall.

He didn’t need to smoke. He just needed to sleep. He didn’t need sweaty curls tickling his chin. He just needed to forget.

Chapter Text

Katsuki woke, and there were gentle hands in his hair. Above him, Deku was smiling tenderly.

"Hey," Deku whispered, his head leaning down until his curly hair tickled Katsuki's forehead. Katsuki groaned, barely conscious after his nap — what time was it? — but he returned Deku's nuzzle. "Baby, I'm gonna sleep over, okay? Your mom said I could."

"Hmm. Mm?" Katsuki rolled over — he was on his bed, his head was in Deku's lap, Deku was sitting upright, and his hands were heaven on his sleepy head. He buried his face in Deku's soft sweater, breathing him in, falling deeper into peace and slumber from how fucking comfortable he was right now. "Hm. Stay. Good."

"Mm-hmm." Deku brushed his thumb over his left ear. "Your mom said dinner's ready. We should eat."

"Feed me."

Deku snorted. "Uh, I can't really do that even if I wanted to. You're not letting me get up."

"Then don't fucking get up." Katsuki clicked his tongue, fingers pinching Deku's sweater to hold him there. "I don't wanna get up. Wanna sleep with you."

"You're so cute when you're like this," Deku said, giggling, almost to himself. He felt a kiss on his temple, and he purred like a fucking engine, holding his boyfriend tighter. "But seriously, Kacchan, you should get up. It's six already. You won't be able to sleep tonight if you keep sleeping like this."

Katsuki chuckled, lips quirking in a dirty grin. "I see no problem with that since my boyfriend's gonna sleep here with me."

That earned him a flick to his ear.

"Fucking ow ."

"Naughty Alpha." Deku ruffled his hair with purpose now. "Up, up, up."

"Dekuuuu." Katsuki still whined even as Deku pushed his back to make him sit up.

"You're cute when you're sleepy." Deku giggled, kissing his nose like he was a fucking toddler — though he was acting like one.

"Kiss me properly, asshole." Katsuki finally opened his eyes to glare at Deku. The latter was already standing up and stretching his probably sore legs after letting Katsuki take a nap on them. 

Deku sighed, looking exasperated, but he still bent down and kissed Katsuki on the mouth. "There. Now come on, Kacchan, your mom's gonna kill you if we don't get downstairs soon."

The fucker specifically said "kill you" and not "kill us " because he fucking knew his mom loved him to bits. Smartass.

"Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute to wake up. What she make, anyway?"

"Spicy curry."

"Mm. Deku, come're."

"Mm?" Deku gasped when Katsuki pulled him into his lap, deceptively strong when he was flopping like a fish half a minute ago. Katsuki started peppering kisses on Deku's neck and jaw, earning giggles from his lover. "Kacchan! What are you doing?"

"Waking up," Katsuki said, his grin — teeth and lips and breath — making contact with Deku's freckles. Deku's breath fanned over the shell of his ear, turned ragged when Katsuki nipped at his scent gland.

"You awake now, Kacchan?"

"Hmm." Katsuki kissed him. "Not yet."

"Kacchan. Wake up."

Katsuki kissed the soft flesh under his ear.

“Wake up.”

Katsuki whined, his kisses turning fast, open-mouthed. "Wait."

"Wake up."

"Deku, no. I don't wanna wake up." He kissed him again, desperate, crying, twenty years old and alone. "I wanna be here with you."

"No, you don't." Deku, twenty years old, glared at him. "You left. I wanted to be here but you left. You left, Bakugou."

"I'm sorry," was what he wanted to say, but he had no voice. He said it again, but the words refused to surface. He clawed at his throat, wanting to get them out because they were suffocating him, he couldn't breathe, and Deku was nowhere to be seen. He was left alone — No, he walked away and made himself alone, and his throat was burning, burning, burning— 

And he finally woke up, screaming bloody murder at six in the morning. His alarm was blaring.

Katsuki heaved, head in his hands and shirt stuck to his back from sweat. One. Two. He coughed and choked. Four. Breathe.

The alarm was still blaring. Katsuki tiredly slapped it shut.

Katsuki raked his hand through his hair, sighing. He could still hear his heartbeat in his ears, but at least it was beating at all. He would've thought the thing had stopped working the minute he and Deku broke up. But, ah, whatever. It was Tuesday again, and he had to get up and work and babysit. He had to forget that Deku was ever his and pretend that him dating someone else didn't make him foam at the mouth.

But hey, it was just another Tuesday.

When he got out of the shower, he saw he had a notification from Kirishima.

Kirishima: Hey man. Kaminari finally agreed on talking things out. You free after work?

Katsuki cursed. He sat down on his bed, towel on his head, and typed out a response.

[Sent]: Shit I can't today.

Kirishima: Dude are you serious? It took us over a week to convince him. Can't you cancel whatever you have for this? For your own pack?

[Sent]: Lunch? I'll buy.

It took five minutes for Kirishima to reply again.

Kirishima: Fine.

Katsuki tossed his phone and flopped backwards onto his bed, groaning. 

The past week had been hell. Kaminari refused to answer any of his calls and texts and avoided his ass during work. It put Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido in a weird position in their group. They basically had to rotate between hanging out with Kaminari and Katsuki during the day and making sure the other didn't see them. Sero was talking to Katsuki this one time and upon seeing Kaminari walk past, the former jumped behind a potted plant as if his whole ass wasn't visible. Kaminari and Katsuki had locked eyes, and Kaminari huffed and walked away.

Then there was the Tuesday after the whole fiasco. He was in a shit headspace already, and piling fucking Deku on top of that made him have the worst headache since the existence of mankind. It didn't help that Deku chose to wear a fucking orange sweater for the night. His pup was so concerned that he made Katsuki a plate of half-burned eggs and toast for dinner to cheer him up (which did).

But anyway, times were shitty, but Katsuki had to keep moving. Keep moving in the real world so his dreams don't catch up to him.

He had desk duty today, which did fuck all for distracting him. He still saw Deku when he closed his eyes. He could still feel his hands in his hair, stroking it when he slept, pulling it when he pounded into him. He could still hear him calling him Kacchan, whispering it, shouting it, moaning it. He closed his eyes to rub his headache away, and he saw himself taking that fucking orange sweater off of him and devouring him.

A ruler slapped onto his desk, jostling him out of his thoughts.

Mirko raised her eyebrows. "Wow. You look like absolute shit, kid."

Katsuki glared tiredly at his boss. "Did you fucking come over here just to tell me that?"

"And you didn't hear a word I just said," Mirko muttered to herself, sighing. "I came over here to tell you that we need your help in the reopening of Musutafu Daycare."

"Hah? Didn't that place reopen forever ago?"

"Yes, but the kids are still scared as hell and a lot of parents are concerned. The teachers there asked us if we could hold a sort of hero event there to put them all at ease. Make some kids happy."

"Oh wow, how noble." Katsuki rolled his eyes and went back to his papers. "Yeah, pass."

"Oh, it's cute that after two years of working for me you think you can sass your way out of anything." Mirko patted his back with way too much force. "Mirio will call you up soon. Be there for the techmeet."

"Oh fuck me in the ass, anyone but him."

"Have fun, Dynamight! Think of the children!"

"Fuck!"

When lunch finally rolled around, he was ready to jump off a building. But he had to meet up with his pack and make one of them not hate his ass, so he couldn't do that.

So, here he was, sitting adjacent to a scowling Kaminari and his bowl of hot ramen as a peace offering. None of them were saying anything, just glaring at each other. Kirishima elbowed him, and Katsuki finally growled.

"Here." Katsuki pushed the bowl over to him. "Eat."

Ashido, who was sitting to Kaminari's left, face palmed.

"And…" Katsuki shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you and whatever."

Sero, who was sitting to Kaminari's right, face palmed.

Kaminari's eyebrows furrowed deeper. "That's it?"

"Well shit, dude, you want the keys to my car, too? It's parked right outside."

"Bakugoouu!" Ashido hissed.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” Katsuki asked, angry, desperate. He was asking because he didn’t fucking know, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to make everything not shitty. He didn’t know after a week of pondering, he didn’t know back when he was fifteen and he still didn’t know five years later. God help him, what was he supposed to say ?

Kaminari sighed, shaking his head. "I'm getting out of here." He made a move to stand up, but before Ashido and Sero could pull him back, Katsuki said, "Wait."

Kaminari, phone in hand, paused and looked at him.

Which, fuck, shouldn’t have been as bone-chilling as this. This was Kaminari. This was his pack. This was the guy who tried every week during high school to get him to join in movie nights and run through the city like the five of them owned it. This was his family.

And yet, what he thought of doing, what he was about to do, God help him, help him, turned his stomach until he was sure he was going to be sick. But, what else was he supposed to say? He had run out of options. Hell, he never really had any other option from the beginning, did he? He’d just been avoiding the inevitable.

"Look," Katsuki started. When the next words failed to form in his mouth, he sighed sharply and put his head in his hands. "I have… I have something to tell you. To explain to you."

The furrow in Kaminari's forehead softened, frustration to confusion. He gingerly sat back down.

Katsuki sighed again. He took out his wallet, paused again, opened it, and shut it closed. "Fuck!" He hissed. 

"Bakugou?" Kirishima asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Katsuki muttered. "I don't know how to start. Or if I should at all." He looked up and caught Sero's gaze. Realization flashed in Sero's eyes, then it turned to solemn understanding. "It's… It's not just mine to share. I can't just share it with anybody."

His friends said nothing, only stared at him, listening. Patient.

Katsuki thumbed his wallet again. "But…" He took a deep breath and released it. "But you guys aren't just anybody. You're my pack. You've saved my life and risked yours plenty of times. I can trust you not to blab. And not," he cleared his throat, "and not immediately hate me, I guess. I don't know. Maybe you would. I— fuck."

"Hey," Kaminari started, frowning, reaching out to him, but before he could touch him, Katsuki pulled out his family picture and slapped it onto the table, hands trembling slightly. There was no backing out. He’d been running away from this for too long. If this truly wasn’t what he was supposed to say, then he was meant to say nothing at all after this. He would be doomed to be alone and silent, but at least he would be that knowing he had said what was left to be said. He’d tried. As he sat there, he said nothing. Just let them look at each other, then at him, then all together lean forward and look at the picture.

Ashido was the first one to take it in her hands, then passed it to Kaminari. Kirishima slid out of the booth to go over to the others' side to look at the picture. Katsuki stayed on his side, face stone cold and heart sinking.

"Holy shit…" Sero breathed.

This was it, he thought. This was the moment he would lose them.

"It's the kid back from that daycare fight." Kaminari snapped his gaze to him. They locked eyes. "The one you…"

"And it's the Omega. His mom." Ashido furrowed her brows. She was the second to look up, then they all did.

Katsuki felt like he was in an interrogation room, but the seat he was given was already the electric chair. The hanging light above them swayed gently, as if waiting to blow out. Katsuki gripped his own hand, and if his nails were any longer, he would've broken skin by now.

"I have a son," Katsuki admitted shakily, refusing to meet their gaze now. "And I have… I had … a boyfriend. An ex now. He hates my guts." He paused to look at something from the window and bite his thumb, his knee shaking uncontrollably. "I got him pregnant when we were both fifteen. I walked out. Walked back in when our son was born, but there was no saving our relationship. I was fifteen and stupid and wanted so badly to be a pro hero, and I still do, but fuck it, I— I fucked up. I still go over to their place every week, on Saturdays mostly, but now Tuesdays as well because my boyf— my fucking ex has a boyfriend and he goes on these stupid dates and I gotta watch my kid. And he doesn't even know I'm his sire, he just calls me Uncle Kacchan because he's too young and it fucking kills me that he's growing up without knowing that. I bail on you because I wanna be in his life as much as possible and I will sooner die than put anyone above my son."

When he turned his head again, they were all still listening intently. There was no bitterness in their scents or in their faces. Yet. "I attacked you because you touched a nerve," Katsuki said to Kaminari. "Not a cool thing to do, I get that. You didn't know. I never told any of you." He leaned back in his seat, breathed in, exhaled. "But now I have."

It took a long while before his friends could move. First it was Sero who cursed under his breath and scratched the back of his head. Then it was Kirishima who gingerly took the picture from Kaminari to inspect it closer. Ashido asked, "How old is he?"

"He'll be five in a few months."

"So, all those times you disappeared in highschool…" Sero trailed off.

"Yeah."

Kirishima suddenly cursed, his hand holding the picture dropping to his side, eyes shining. “Fifteen…” He murmured. “Fuck, man. You were fifteen .”

Katsuki’s heart stuttered. He looked out the window again, throat clogged.

“You had so much on your shoulders,” Kirishima continued. “And we… we never knew.”

“Yeah, that was kinda the whole point.” Katsuki huffed a humorless laugh. “No one was supposed to know.”

“Holy shit…” Kaminari’s head snapped up, alarmed. “When we were in high school, that one time, I— I made fun of you for not coming to that arcade, you said you had to babysit a neighbor’s kid, and I said— I said—”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, knowing exactly what Kaminari was talking about. “Oi, stop, it’s—”

“I said ‘what kind of kid would ever like you?’” Kaminari finished, horrified. “And I made that a thing for weeks , I kept teasing you about it and you never said anything—”

“ Oi .” Katsuki cursed and punched the blond’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t fucking cry on me, asshole. That was ages ago. You didn’t mean shit by it.”

“I must’ve made you feel awful and I didn’t know !” Kaminari wailed, tears springing up in his eyes as quick as his lightning. “Dude, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry —”

“Fuck, Denki…" Before he could finish, the rest of his friends suddenly started crying, too. " Oh my fucking God ."

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido wailed and sobbed as they hugged Kaminari who was wailing and sobbing the loudest, but then two seconds in they switched gears like they shared a fucking hive mind — which Katsuki had suspected since they became friends — and they all got up and went over to him.

"Oh no, fucking get away from me, fucking— oof." Katsuki was hauled off his seat by the arm, standing now, and he was embraced from every direction. His pack curled themselves over him until they were just one super gross, super loud ball in the middle of a ramen shop. Everyone was crying, someone was rubbing his back, and he could feel someone soaking the collar of his shirt with what he hoped to God was just tears and not anything else.

And maybe he was crying, too, just a little. Maybe his heart finally imploded, finally let go of all that tension and fear and uncertainty, and made itself have room, finally, to receive some relief after five years. Five years of ducking under everyone's questions and well-meaning concerns, five years of wondering if he would still have these people in his life if they knew what he was hiding. Maybe he let out a pathetic, tiny sob against Kirishima's shoulder, and maybe he fisted someone's shirt and brought them closer when they tried to give him room.

But eventually they did have to part, all these promising pro heroes having ugly crying faces and snot running down their noses, more than just a couple people staring. Katsuki sniffed and went back to sit at his booth first, the others following. After a minute of passing around some tissues and cleaning themselves up, Katsuki said, "The ramen's fucking cold, idiot."

Kaminari blinked, then realization hit him. "Oh, shit." He sheepishly pulled the bowl over to him. "I… I forgot."

Katsuki hummed. When they stared at each other for more than three seconds, Kaminari laughed. He took a set of chopsticks, said "thank you for the food", and ate.

"Damn." Kaminari laughed again. "It is cold."

Katsuki said, "I'm sorry."

Kaminari nodded, sighing. He ran the sleeve of his hoodie under his nose. "Yeah," he said, a small smile on his face. "You're forgiven."

A silence fell over them then. It was nice. Needed. When Katsuki breathed in, he didn't have to think of what to say when he breathed out. He could just be.

Eventually, Sero raised his hand and called for the menu. All that crying made them hungry. Kaminari whined that he had to eat cold ramen while they got to eat warm. Katsuki scolded him for not accepting his offering from the beginning. They laughed.

When Katsuki was halfway done with his ramen, Ashido asked, voice the quietest he had ever heard from her, "Um, Bakugo, so… so how are you holding up? After… all this."

Katsuki contemplated his answer while he was chewing. When he swallowed, he was surprised he didn't choke. He felt… "I feel okay," he said. He looked up and saw them all looking at him, and he offered a lopsided smile. "Really. I… I didn't think things would go so well, so. Yeah."

"Mm." Ashido nodded, smiling, too. "That's good."

"Did you think we'd storm off or beat you up or something?" Sero asked.

"I mean…" Katsuki shrugged and went back to eating. "I guess."

"Wow, thanks for having so much faith in your pack, Bakugou."

"Oi, shut the fuck up. How many of your friends became a teen dad and a deadbeat Alpha?"

"Point taken, but still. We could've helped."

"As if."

"Dude, I have five younger siblings. I learned how to change a diaper when I was seven ."

Katsuki paused, then made a face. "Okay, yeah, that's a good point."

"Can we know what his name is?" Kirishima asked.

"It's Toshi. He doesn't have my surname, obviously. I can't say what it is because it would cross a line with my ex."

"Baby Toshi," Ashido mused, cheeks full and round like a hamster. "That's sooo cute! He's adorable, Bakugou."

"You bet your ass he is. He's my kid after all."

"Ehh, he looks a lot more like his mom! He definitely got the better genes, I tell ya."

Katsuki huffed. He poked around his broth with his chopsticks. "Yeah. He did."

A pause. "Hey, Bakugou…" Kirishima started.

"Mm."

"Are you still, you know… with your ex?"

"Am I still what with my ex."

"Uhh…" Kirishima cleared his throat, definitely regretting asking but already too deep to back out. "Are you still in love with him?"

Katsuki stopped moving, chopsticks in the air, mouth slightly agape. When he blinked, he gently put his chopsticks down.

"Shit, shit, shit, I-I'm so sorry—"

"Ei, you blockhead!"

"—you don't have to answer it if you don't want to—"

"You really don't have to answer, Bakugou, Kirishima's just being an idiot—"

"Yeah, yeah, just pretend you didn't hear anything—"

"I am."

His friends, in the middle of beating Kirishima upside the head with wads of napkins and a newspaper, stopped and stared.

Katsuki sighed, long and exhausted, and sat back in his seat. "I fucking am," he admitted — to them, to himself. "I fucking want him back and it's driving me crazy, fuck ."

Something inside him snapped — no, not breaking, but snapping back to its proper place, like a puzzle piece finally turned the right way until it popped into place. His ribcage felt like it was vibrating, but then it was just his heart — his heart beating in time with his thoughts, finally, not out of sync, not at war with each other anymore.

He loved Deku. He loved him. He'd never stopped. The realization of that hit him so hard it left him winded, left him scrambling to look around — the puzzle was almost whole, the image of green meadows and straw hats and bugs in the summer and a river flashing in his face, and he took it all in. There were still a few pieces missing; a piece that had Deku's face, a piece of Katsuki's chest, and their joined hands. Despite that, he still remembered this scene clearly. He remembered how happy they were. How happy he was, holding Deku's hand and leading them home.

And he wanted that image back , wanted it whole again, wanted to feel that same happiness again with the one person he could never let go. The one person who had been with him through the good and the bad. The one person who…

The one person who was… happy already.

Katsuki blinked.

Oh… right. Deku was… he was happy now. He could stand on his own two feet. He had a good boyfriend. He had a wonderful son in his home. He had… freedom. Freedom of him.

Because he didn't love Katsuki, not anymore, not after everything he'd put him through.

"K-Katsuki?"

Katsuki lifted his head, and was met with concerned faces.

That summer image faded into the background of Katsuki's loud mind, and he scowled. "What are you fucks looking at?" He said.

Ashido opened her mouth, closed it, then started wiping his face with a clean tissue. "You're crying, hotshot."

Katsuki cursed and took the tissue. He hadn't realized. Fuck.

"Here." Kirishima handed him the rolled up newspaper the others had smacked him with. He bowed his head and said, "You can hit me with that because I was stupid and should've kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry!"

Katsuki snorted, but lightly tapped the newspaper on his head anyway. "Dumbass," he murmured. "Knock it off and lift your head. S'fine. It's whatever."

"But I made you sad…"

"Well." Katsuki shrugged, taking his cup of tea in hand, watched the contents swirl peacefully in the clay. "Not really. You just… made me realize a lot of things, is all."

"I… I did?"

Katsuki downed the rest of his drink and put his cup down with a click. "Yeah," he said. "I… I still love him. My ex."

"That's soooo romantic," Ashido cooed, kicking out her legs.

"He made it clear that he absolutely hates me."

"Heh?" Ashido froze. The guys gaped.

"He has a boyfriend now. He told me awhile back that he doesn't want any kind of relationship with me, and that this new boyfriend treats him better than I ever did."

"Shit…"

"I'm sorry, Bakubro…"

Katsuki shrugged as if that shit didn't tear him apart from the inside out. When he spoke next, his voice wavered pathetically. "I made my choice back then. And he's made his. He deserves to be happy, too."

His friends shared looks with each other; concern, confusion, pity, helplessness, all rolled into one. Katsuki hated that look. He kicked out his leg from under the table blindly, and made Kaminari yelp in pain. "Stop fucking talking about me with your eyes, dipshits," Katsuki groused. "It's fine, okay? I'll… I'll get over it. It's been five years anyway."

"There has to be something we can do!" Ashido still tried. "You're a great guy! You're a successful pro hero! You're—"

"—the Alpha who broke up with him when he said he was pregnant with my child."

"Ah— mm. Hmm." The others winced and withered.

"Yeah. So, that's a no. There's nothing you can do," Katsuki said. "C+ for effort, though."

"I'm sorry, Bakugou."

"Stop. I told you I'm fine. Don't think me telling you all this gives you a sort of pass to look down on me, assholes."

Kirishima sighed, but there was a small, sad, fond smile on his face. "There's Bakugou. He's back."

"I never left, shitty hair."

"Shit, speaking of leaving, we should probably get back to the agency."

"Ugh, do we have to?" Kaminari whined. "We were having a super rare moment!"

"Which will never ever fucking happen again."

"Let's go to my place and chill out!" Sero offered.

"We aren't in the fucking dorms, face tape. We can't skip work."

"Aaaahhh, but—"

"Think of the fucking children, you heathen," Katsuki said in a very bad Mirko impression. He got up and dropped money on the table. "Come on, we should go. I have another meeting with Mirio."

"Oh damn, you too?" Kaminari asked. "You mean the pro hero event for the daycare, right?"

"Oh fuck me, not you, too."

"All of us, actually!" Ashido was the last to hop out of the booth. "We're all taking the assignment!"

"God really hates me today, doesn't he."

"Don't be so mean, Bakugou! Mirko is assigning all of us because we were present at the scene. She thinks it would be really good if we went back there but for something fun! It would make the kids have a better memory about us heroes and the daycare."

"Yeah, yeah, kids this, kids that, I heard you."

"Oh, wait, that means we'll get to see Bakugou with his kid again!" Kaminari said.

"Aw, hell yeah!" Kirishima said. "I didn't get to see him interact with him! It must be super manly."

"I still can't picture it," Sero mused. "Five thousand yen says the kid has his daddy's mouth."

"Oi, what the fuck!?"

"I'll take that bet!" Kaminari said quickly.

"I'm gonna fucking kill all of you fuckers."

"In front of your precious pup? Shame on you, Bakugou."

"He can close his eyes."

"Will you let me babysit sometimes, Bakugou?" Ashido begged. "Pleaseee, pretty please? I'm super good with kids! I'm an Omega so you know I can be responsible!"

"You can barely feed yourself with your cooking, Ashido." That earned him a smack to his arm.

"Rude!"

"You guys are so fucking noisy, I swear to God! One more word and I will castrate you all."

"Yikes," Kaminari said, then paused. "Aw shit."

"Die!"

Kaminari screamed and hopped through the streets, a manic Bakugou hot on his heels, the rest of the group catching up in a flurry of laughs.

The meeting room was more crowded than Katsuki anticipated. He and his pack were already clad in their hero uniforms, along with a couple other heroes that had been present on the day of the daycare attack. What surprised him was the number of civilians in that room. A few he recognized as employees and teachers from the daycare. The rest were extras he didn't know.

"Who the fuck are those people?" He muttered, feeling stuffy in there very quickly.

"They're parents," Ashido explained. "They volunteered to help out."

"They volunteered to get an eyeful of pro hero biceps, that's what."

A few moms turned their heads at him, glaring, and Ashido had to smile and wave awkwardly before pulling the dumbass Alpha away.

Ashido smacked his chest with the back of her hand. "Do not start a riot in the agency. Moms are scary. Have you ever met a Karen in your life?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where the hell is Mirio anyway?"

"Beats me. Let's just get a seat."

With each passing minute, more people filtered into the room. Katsuki sat between Kirishima and Sero on the table, and in front of him sat a young Omega with a high ponytail that must hurt the fuck out of her skull. When he caught her eyes, she smiled and giggled and twirled her very long, very painful ponytail. He resisted the urge to bare his fangs, growl, or gag. He should've won a medal for this feat, honestly. He merely huffed and turned away, ignoring her.

Finally, Mirio came into the room, disgustingly radiant as ever. "Good afternoon, everyone!" He said. "Thank you so much for coming today! Ah, and we have some new faces around here." Mirio bowed. "Hello, ladies. Welcome to our agency!"

The moms and teachers giggled, more than a couple wiggling their fingers. Katsuki turned to Kirishima and whispered in his ear, "Kill me now." Kirishima elbowed him.

"We appreciate all of you for volunteering. This will be a very memorable event for the children, so the more hands on deck the better. And, what better way to learn the hearts of the children than through their own guardians! And—" Aaand Katsuki tuned him out. Katsuki sat back in his seat, sighing. He contemplated taking a nap as Mirio was taking fucking forever with the pleasantries, but he supposed it would look a little too unprofessional. He didn’t need to get written up and face his boss again.

"But we seem to be one person short, huh?" Mirio eventually said.

Katsuki stared at the only empty seat on the table. Damn, the place really was packed. They were literally taking up the whole meeting table, save for just one damn seat.

"Should we wait for them?"

"Fuck no." Katsuki quickly cut in. Everyone turned their heads at him. "We've wasted enough time as it is. If they're late, then they're fucking late. It's more disrespectful to everyone here if you delay the meeting any further for one irresponsible person."

The others stayed silent, either because they agreed or they just didn't want to get into a debate with the loudmouth Dynamight. But Mirio relented in the end. "Yes, you have a point, Dynamight. Thank you for your input! I'll just start the meeting now, then."

"Finally."

Just as Mirio turned around to set up the white board, the doors suddenly burst open. "Hi! Hello! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Katsuki's Alpha abruptly stood at attention, every nerve in his body lighting up at once. His spine straightened, his heart accelerated, and his nostrils flared as he took a lungful of pine and petrichor.

"Oh, wonderful timing! Don't worry, we were just about to start. And you are?"

"Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku, one of the parents."

Katsuki felt like he was going to pass out.

"Ah, yes, your name's right here. Go ahead and take a seat."

"Y-Yes, thank you. I apologize again for being late."

Katsuki couldn't move. His Alpha was wagging its tail, whining to turn, to look, to bask, but Katsuki remained frozen. He was afraid that if he moved even a muscle, he would… he would…

He heard him, though. Heard every step, every friction of the sole of his shoes on the carpet, every rustle of his clothes. Then, finally, Deku entered his line of vision, dressed in his uniform, he must've just gotten off work or on his break or just got permission from his boss to leave early, and he smelled divine, his scent blockers must've worn off from this morning and he hadn't reapplied it in his haste to get here, and his hair was so green and windswept, and— 

And his eyes. Katsuki couldn't remember one instance where he could look at them and not get lost, not have his mind wiped clean of all thought. They were so brilliant, intelligent, big, and shocked. Katsuki was looking at him, and he Katsuki. Deku had stopped in his tracks to look at him, and the room faded away.

Chapter Text

Katsuki sat up straight when Deku entered the room. He and the other kids were already on their tables, coloring books and crayons in hand — and some in mouths, yuck — but his best friend had just arrived with his mom. They were at the front door, and Katsuki paused his doodle of an orange star to stare. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took in a big whiff of the air, satisfied that he could now smell rain in the midst of everyone else’s lame scents.

“I’m so sorry for bringing Izuku late, Ms. Uchida,” Auntie was saying while her son clung to her skirt. Crappy Deku was wearing his crappy yellow backpack and crappy red shoes. Deku always looked like such a mess with his floofy hair and nervous fidgeting, Katsuki thought, pouting. What a useless kid! It was only right that Katsuki, a future super cool Alpha, had to take care of him.

“Oi, Deku!” Katsuki called from his seat, startling the other kids drawing on his table. “Get over here!”

“Ah, Kacchan!” Deku instantly lit up, bounding over to him with his tiny little legs. But suddenly, his foot got caught in the folds of the carpet, and he fell.

“Oh, Izuku!” Deku’s mom fretted, but Katsuki was faster. He jumped down from his chair and quickly went over to Deku.

“Stupid Deku, watch where you’re going!” Katsuki reprimanded, heart stuttering in his chest as tears started to form on Deku’s lashes. Deku hiccuped, about to sob and cry like a baby, but Katsuki squished his cheeks with his hands and shook his face. “Oi, oi! Stop that! Don’t cry! Are you hurt? Oi, I said stop crying and tell me where it hurts!”

Deku sobbed, soaking Katsuki’s small palms. "Kaaaacchannn," he cried. "Knee hurts…"

Katsuki hauled Deku on his feet by his armpits. "Sit here." He lightly pushed Deku to sit on the chair he was previously on. Upon further inspection, Deku's knee wasn't bleeding, just scratched up a little from the carpet. When Katsuki moved away, Deku whined, saying, "Where are you going, Kacchan?"

"I'm getting a bandaid for your stupid face!" Katsuki said, but despite his mean words, he patted Deku's head reassuringly. "Shut up, I'm coming back in a minute. Stop crying already."

"Y-You promise?" Deku hiccuped, green eyes glistening.

"Yeah, yeah, I promise. Sit still."

"Okay."

Katsuki went up to the front of the room where Ms. Uchida and Deku's mom were still standing. They were smiling super weirdly at him, but Katsuki didn't care; he had a mission to accomplish. "Ms. Uchida, can I have a bandaid, please?" He asked.

"Of course, Katsuki!" Ms. Uchida opened her desk drawer and gave him an Endeavor bandaid.

"No, Deku likes All Might!" Katsuki protested. "Gimme an All Might one!" Katsuki paused, then remembered that he wasn't supposed to yell because Alphas shouldn't yell and be scary to get what they want. He looked down, embarrassed, and added quietly, "Please."

"Oh, of course, I forgot." Ms. Uchida replaced the bandaid with the All Might one, ruffling his hair. "There you go."

Katsuki barely finished saying "thank you" before he was going over to Deku again. Deku was still sniveling like a big baby, but he sat up straight and smiled wide when he saw him coming.

"Kacchan!" He cheered.

Katsuki gently stuck the bandaid on Deku's knee. It covered the scratches neatly in blue, white, and red. Satisfied, Katsuki kissed the bandaid as the last step to making it better. "There!" Katsuki declared, grinning up at an amazed Deku. "Now you're all okay!”

Deku wrapped his arms around Katsuki, bouncy and happy, smelling of spring. “Thank you, Kacchan!” He said, and that was enough to make the fluttering in Katsuki’s chest stop and start all over again, faster if possible. 

“W-Whatever, stupid Deku,” Katsuki grumbled, but he returned the hug anyway, patting Deku’s back and hair soothingly. “Be more careful. I know you’re a Deku and you’re always gonna need me to take care of you because you’re dumb and can’t do things properly, but you gotta learn!” Katsuki pushed Deku’s shoulders until the other could look him in the eye. “You gotta learn to not be so dumb all the time, Deku! You hear?”

Deku sniffed and looked away, pouting. “But…”

“Hah!? But what? Are you not gonna listen to me anymore, dumb Deku?”

“No!” Deku quickly said. “It’s just that… If I… If I can, um, do, um…”

Katsuki frowned. When Deku didn’t want to continue, Katsuki shook him and said, “Oi, spit it out, Deku!”

Deku made a small “eep!” sound, then shyly met Katsuki’s eyes again. “If I can do things… on my own…” Deku started, voice trailing quieter until only Katsuki could hear. “Will Kacchan… still wanna take care of me?”

Katsuki blushed, startled by the little twerp’s question. Deku’s mouth was an ugly, wobbly line on his freckled face, like he was seconds away from crying again. Something inside Katsuki did not like that prospect one tiny bit — Deku was a big ol crybaby, but Katsuki did not want him to cry because of him . He would pinch himself if he ever deliberately made Deku cry! That was not how a future Alpha treated his— his—

Katsuki stuck out his bottom lip and puffed out his chest, determination flaring in his tiny body. “Of course I will!” Katsuki declared fiercely. He took Deku’s face in his hands again, making him look at him, only him, because he needed to make sure dumb Deku heard him loud and clear when he said, “I’m always going to take care of you because you’re going to be my wife, Deku!”

“E-Eh!?” Deku blushed madly, and Katsuki thought that his stupid — pretty — blush was contagious because the pink was rising into his own hands, chest, and cheeks. But, he didn’t care, because he meant what he said and he wasn’t going to back down from his words — real Alpha’s couldn’t do that! Instead of pulling away, Katsuki squished little Deku’s cheeks harder until his lips became like a fish’s.

“What else did you think, huh, stupid Deku?” Katsuki challenged. “Of course you’re gonna be my wife! I’m gonna be a super strong Alpha, and you’re gonna be a super strong Omega, too! Nobody is gonna keep up with you because everybody else is lame and I’m the coolest around! And— And because I’m the coolest, I gotta have the coolest Omega, too! Dummy! See, you’re still really dumb because you couldn’t figure that out yourself! So you have to get smarter from now on so you can marry me!”

“I can marry Kacchan!?” Deku gasped through his fish lips.

“Yeah! And we’re gonna have a doggy and have ice cream every day because we’ll be adults and we can do that together!”

Deku’s eyes were sparkling like stars. “Ice cream and doggies!” He exclaimed. He launched forward and hugged Katsuki’s neck, giggling happily, his scent bursting with pine. “I’m gonna be Kacchan’s wife! Hooray!”

Katsuki locked his arms around his best friend, hugging him tighter than Deku was hugging him because he had to have more love than dumb Deku. He heard the other kids clapping and congratulating them on their wedding, and Ms. Uchida and Deku’s mom cooing, but none of that mattered. He had Deku to support forever and ever and real Alphas had to work their butts off to make their mate happy and never cry ever! And in exchange their mate would love them forever and ever and welcome them home from a long day of work and give tons of kisses and hugs! That was how things should be, and that was how they were going to be. At the little age of four years old, Katsuki was going to make sure of that.

Katsuki didn’t know if he should stay as still as possible or jump out the window. Deku’s face didn’t change much, but Katsuki was already too hyper focused on him to not notice the tiny twitch in his mouth and the line forming between his eyebrows. To anyone else, they were just strangers staring at each other — albeit a few seconds too long to be considered casual — but Katsuki knew that that face was one of displeasure.

Katsuki withheld a whimper; his Omega wasn’t happy to see him, and that sent a quiet, painful pang in his chest. When Deku resumed his walk towards the only chair available, Katsuki’s eyes followed him, wanting so badly to just — just sit with him. Fuck.

“Oh, well that was interesting,” Mirio piped up. Katsuki shot him a sharp glare. “Do you two know each other? Dynamight?”

“Uh—”

“We met after the attack at the daycare,” Deku supplied quickly. He was smiling at Mirio, then bowing his head sheepishly at the rest of the room — putting up an act for their audience. “Dynamight saved my son. He was gracious enough to check on him afterwards, and let me see him even though civilians weren’t supposed to come in yet.” Deku looked at him, not meeting his eyes — just looked past him, at the wall behind his head, at the spot between his eyebrows — and he smiled. “Dynamight has my thanks.”

Sero loudly sipped from a cup of water. Kirishima had a smile that looked way too big and awkward. Kaminari coughed, fixated suddenly on a speck of dust on the table. Ashido’s eyes kept darting from Katsuki to Deku and back again like a goddamn ping pong match. Katsuki was definitely leaning towards the window option from before.

“Yeah,” Katsuki replied simply, avoiding Deku’s eyes. He looked up and saw the Ponytail Omega side-eyeing Deku. Annoyance flared in his gut, and he added sharply, “We were just doing our jobs. Like this goddamn meeting. Oi, Mirio, the fuck are you stalling for? Get on with it already.”

Mirio smiled, and if he was analyzing what had just happened in that thick ass skull of his, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he finally got into the actual techmeet.

The majority of the concept was already formulated beforehand between Mirio and the head of the daycare, Ms. Uchida. They wanted to make a sort of festival with the daycare as the center of it, complete with a parade that the children and pro heroes could participate in. It was all fine and dandy, but Katsuki couldn’t be assed to participate in giving ideas like what decorations should be prepared or what games could the children play with the pro heroes; it was all incredibly boring and nonconsequential. He would much rather do fucking paperwork than this.

During a heated argument over whose homemade cookies were best suited for the event, Katsuki looked over to Deku again. Deku’s eyes were on the moms giving passive aggressive remarks over the other’s baking skills, but the green of his irises were glazed over; he wasn’t paying much attention either. As far as Katsuki remembered him, Deku was always vocal in class discussions. He and Katsuki started dating at the start of their second year in middle school, but that didn’t mean they stopped being competitive with each other. They were constantly fighting each other in the classroom — not physically, but in a petty, I-got-a-100-and-you-got-a-98 type of rivalry. They were nightmares during class discussions. It was fun as hell. It had been fun, at least, while it lasted.

This wasn't even a shadow of what they used to have. This wasn't the relationship he once had and cherished, and ultimately discarded. Sitting there in the same room, he felt like he was sitting with a stranger.

Deku seemed to sense his creepy staring. He met his gaze, curious first, then deliberately blank. Katsuki opened his mouth, wanting to just— say something to him— stop acting like what we had never happened, you fucking nerd — but Deku was already looking away.

Katsuki felt a hand on his knee. Turning, he saw Kirishima offering him a sympathetic smile, then a light squeeze to his knee, grounding him. Katsuki sighed through his nose, nodding his silent thanks. He didn’t look at Deku again for the rest of the meeting.

After Mirio finally wrapped things up, the moms and daycare’s staff members hung around to chat amongst themselves. A few heroes stuck around — read: got caught in Mom Hands — and the moms all took turns showering them in praises and flirtatious comments. Sero and Kaminari, the fucking bastards, were two of them, and Katsuki could see that they were eating that shit up.

But, well, Katsuki supposed he wasn’t any better because he’d had his eyes on one particular mom as well.

Deku was in there talking to some extras, taking his sweet time with it, too. The rest of his pack had gone on ahead, so Katsuki was hanging around the corridor and busying himself with the vending machine. He’d downed a whole can of orange water waiting for him and was on his second one already. The fuck was taking him so long? Katsuki was, well, uhh, just, ahem, wanted to just talk to him. Say hi. Just a simple hi, how are you, do you still have that fucking date later tonight, I’ll be there for Toshi but by fucking god I wanna rip the throat out of that Alpha you’re seeing. Just small talk.

In the middle of waiting, Ponytail Omega appeared outta fucking nowhere on his side. “Dynamight!” She called, making him back up instantly. Why the hell did this Omega not quit ? “I’m so excited to be working on this project with you! I’m—”

“Not interested,” Katsuki growled.

She giggled. “I’m Chihiro,” she finished, voice all airy and soft. “And don’t worry, Dynamight, I can assure you I’m not, like, a crazy fan or anything. I just wanted to, you know, be friendly.”

“Yeah, I don’t do friendly.” Katsuki’s eyes darted to the door. Still no Deku. “Seriously, lady, I’m not interested. Aren’t you fucking married anyway? You’re a mom, aren’t you?”

“I’m an aunt, technically,” she said. “My nephew is in my care. Poor thing’s parents are overseas working, so I’m taking care of him.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and drank from his can. He thought not acknowledging her presence might make her leave, but she still stuck around for whatever goddamn reason.

“My nephew really likes you,” she kept saying. She pulled out a little notebook and pen from her purse. “Can you please sign this? It would mean a lot to him.”

He sighed, but he snatched the pen and quickly wrote his autograph on the paper. “What’s his name?” He grumbled. 

“Cameron.”

“Hah?” Katsuki made a face at her, to which she just giggled.

“His father’s American, and he was born there,” she explained. “Do you know how to spell it?”

“Do I fucking look like I know?”

Chihiro giggled again. “Okay, okay. So it’s C… A… M…”

Katsuki wrote the name awkwardly. When he finished, Chihiro smiled sweetly and took the notebook from him, purposefully brushing her fingers against his. Katsuki glared at her, knowing exactly what she was trying to do because he pulled the exact fucking thing on Deku years ago. Only difference was his attempt actually worked.

Chihiro tucked her hair behind her ear, unphased. “Thank you, Dynamight! I’m sure he’ll be very happy.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me being so forward, could I possibly ask for your number? It’s just that—”

“No.”

“It’s really just for the committee, and to talk about the event at the daycare and—”

“No.”

Chihiro frowned, and Katsuki was about to celebrate until she put on her sunshine smile again. She patted her hand on his bicep and said, “Quite the charmer, aren’t you, Dynamight? It’s okay, I understand that you’re busy right now. Maybe some other time?”

Holy fucking shit, this bitch was insane.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Dynamight?” She asked quietly.

“Whatever.” He just wanted her fucking gone, dammit.

Chihiro smiled and waved, but just as she was turning, she somehow tripped on thin air and fell. It was only thanks to Katsuki’s reflexes that he was able to catch her before she hit face-first onto the floor. One hand supporting her waist and the other saving his drink from spilling, Katsuki cursed and righted her back on her feet.

“Oh my!” Chihiro squeaked, blushing deeply. “That was so embarrassing! I’m so sorry, Dynamight!”

“Fucking watch where you’re going,” Katsuki muttered.

“Excuse me,” a new voice whispered, then a mop of green hair zipped behind Chihiro in a flurry.

Shit! Deku!

“Oi—” Katsuki called, but then held himself back from saying his name in the middle of his agency and in front of this persistent bitch Chihiro. Cursing, he shoved his half-empty can of orange water into Chihiro’s hand before darting down the corridor and after his Omega.

“I-I’ll call you, maybe!? Dynamight!”

Katsuki ignored her in favor of hunting Deku’s petrichor scent in the middle of his busy agency. Katsuki’s nose didn’t fail him as he quickly found Deku waiting in front of the elevators. There were other people around him, so Katsuki couldn’t just walk up there and corner him like he wanted to. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and strode slowly to Deku’s side, facing the elevators.

Deku jumped when he saw him. “Ba— D-Dynamight?”

Katsuki simply hummed while his Alpha was jumping over hoops in his chest. “Going down?” He asked casually.

Deku’s mouth opened and closed next to him, a blush creeping up his neck, but he eventually whipped his head forward, ignoring his side-long gaze. “Going up, actually,” he said evenly.

That was a fucking lie because the front doors of the agency were downstairs. “Great, that’s where I’m heading,” he said, grinning when he saw Deku glaring holes into the side of his head.

The elevator dinged, and they were stuck at the very back of the elevator together. There were enough people in there to “make” Katsuki press next to Deku until their arms touched. Deku tensed and blushed harder, unable to move away unless he wanted to body slam the poor Beta trying to eat her sandwich while looking at her reports.

After two floors, the elevator stopped and opened its doors. Deku was much too eager to leave, but before he could try and shoulder his way to freedom, Katsuki held his arm. The Omega made a small noise, so startled that he missed his chance and the doors closed again.

Deku shot him a furious glare, mouth open to show his sharp fangs, but Katsuki just flicked his eyes to their “company” in the elevator, and he withered. Gritting his teeth, he stayed quiet. Katsuki smirked, triumphant and ridiculously high off it, too.

It’d been awhile since he’d last made Deku pliant.

The doors kept opening and closing on different floors, but Katsuki held the Omega steady. He’d tried to wiggle away the first couple of times, but Katsuki’s grip, though never too tight, held him fast. They weren’t in a position where they could make a whole lot of ruckus or movement anyway, so Deku’s fight wasn’t much of one at all. By the fourth floor he’d missed, Deku just slumped back on the wall behind them and stopped trying to get away.

Katsuki, on the other hand, kept holding him. He tried to convince himself that he was just being careful, not letting his guard down, but the excuse sounded stupid even in his own head. Especially since his lunch with his friends, when he’d realized that… Well.

He was still in love with Midoriya Izuku.

In hindsight, the realization felt incredibly slow and dumb. Katsuki ought to have known from the way Deku made him feel — had continued to do so since they were kids — because the tension he felt when they were dating and now was practically the same. He’d felt his body stand to attention each time his Omega came on his tiptoes to kiss him, and he was still standing to attention when the same person opened his front door to let him babysit their son. Sure, he wasn’t so far gone to think that what he had with Deku was the same as before, but he knew one thing that had stood against the test of time, even if Deku refused to admit it — their touch still felt electric.

He could feel it right now, behind the backs of his coworkers in a cramp fucking elevator. His hand on Deku’s arm, his gloved hand — fuck, he wished he could take them off — on Deku’s bare skin; it still felt the same. The same adrenaline. The same burst of spring. He didn’t want to let go. It was so fucked.

It was fucked because they were… them. They were the way they were now. Deku had a boyfriend and they had a kid together and Katsuki was lonely. They were so complicated now, so full of hate and resentment and confusion, broken promises like shattered glass. Katsuki didn’t know how to move forward without cutting their feet on the wreckage.

So, really, it was almost funny how Katsuki still chose to be reckless and bring them here, in an almost empty elevator and running out of floors to skip. Katsuki was pretty sure he’d just stepped on some shards on the way here, but hey. At least they were going somewhere.

The final person got off on the second to last floor, and before the other people on the floor could filter in, Katsuki jammed his thumb on the close-door button. He heard protests from the other side, but he ignored them until the metal doors slid neatly into place.

He heard Deku huff behind him. “Now what, genius?” He muttered, clearly not happy.

“Shut up and let me think.”

“You— You’re saying you didn’t even have a plan before kidnapping me, you oaf!?”

“I said shut up and let me—” Katsuki blinked, then hit the button for the top floor of the building. Seconds later, the doors opened to a bare, dusty, debris-filled floor.

“It’s in construction,” Katsuki explained, stepping out of the elevator and onto crusty floor. The agency was building a large auditorium that could fit all of their pro heroes at once, so they were knocking down walls to make room. Presently, there was nobody around to disturb them.

Deku gingerly exited the elevator, then watched it close and go down for another lap through the building. They were going to be here awhile.

The Omega sighed and crossed his arms. “What do you want, Bakugou?”

“Why’d you run from me?” Katsuki asked.

“What?”

“You fucking ran, dipshit. I was waiting for you to show your face and you just bolted.”

Deku furrowed his eyebrows. “You were… waiting for me? Why?”

“The fuck you mean why?” He asked as a deflection because he honestly didn’t have a good enough answer to that. “I just wanted to see you” didn’t sound too appropriate at this stage of their relationship, no matter how true that was to him.

“Why’d you run?” He repeated.

Deku clicked his tongue and turned away, jamming his thumb for the elevator. “Screw this,” he muttered, but Katsuki spun him around by his shoulders to make him face him again.

“If you didn’t want to see me, you wouldn’t have volunteered to do this shitty reopening,” Katsuki said, eyes boring into green ones. “You know where I work. You know I was going to be here.”

A split second passed before Deku knocked his hand from his shoulder. “I came here for Toshi,” he spat. “Not you , Bakugou.”

“Toshi’s fine,” he said. “The attack doesn’t scare him anymore. I know, I talked to him about it.”

Deku was silent. “He wants this event,” he eventually settled on.

“You didn’t have to be involved in it. It was going to happen with or without you butting in.”

“I’m not butting in anything!” He protested. He growled and started to walk away, but the floor was shitty as fuck so he had to be slow and careful with his steps, so it was more like an angry-slow and angry-careful. Katsuki tailed behind him to listen to him rant. “You wouldn’t know but I’m actually an active mom in the daycare! I help the staff clean the playrooms! I bring snacks all the time! Of course I volunteered because I want to be there for the kids and the staff because they’re all wonderful people and I can’t just turn my back on them! Most of the other moms are here because they want to flirt with pro heroes—”

“I fucking called it.”

“—and they would just ruin the event because they were never here for that to begin with! They just wanna show off! If I’m part of the committee then at least things would get done and the event would— Ah!”

Deku’s shoes got caught on a chunk of debris on the floor, and Katsuki shot forward to catch him. He wrapped his arms around Deku’s torso, holding him tight, felt his heartbeat through his back — or was that his own? They used to be one and the same.

He released a slow, shaky breath against the back of Deku’s neck, feeling him shiver. “Careful,” he whispered.

Deku’s shoulders rose to his reddening ears. He said something but it was too quiet for Katsuki to make out.

“What?”

“Don’t do that,” Izuku repeated, barely above a whisper. “Don’t treat me like how you treated stupid Chihiro.”

“ What ?”

Deku shook him off, and Katsuki already missed the contact. He bit back a whine or a protest. “I get it, okay?” Deku was saying. “I get that— that we’re seeing new people and you can catch as many damsels in distress as you want because you can but don’t— don’t lump me in with them because I do not want to be like one of those who do it on purpose— and I didn’t just do that on purpose! I fell for real! But stupid Chihiro did it on purpose and if the likes of her are your standards then that’s fine but—”

“What the fuck are you on about, stupid Deku!?” Katsuki made a face. “Wait, that bitch did it on purpose?”

Deku threw up his arms. “Uh, yeah!? What are you, fucking twelve!? Of course she did that on purpose! And you played her game and flirted back!”

“I did not flirt back, what the hell are you talking about!?” Katsuki was going to have a hernia listening to this. “Why the fuck would I flirt with her? She was being an annoying bitch and wouldn’t take fucking no for an answer! I wanted her fucking gone because I wanted to see you !”

Deku froze. Then, he scoffed and looked away, gripped his elbow and dug his fingers in tight. “Shut up,” he muttered, but the heat wasn’t there. “I don’t wanna hear you talking like that.”

“Like what?” Katsuki approached him until they were nearly touching again. Deku stood his ground and looked up at him. Katsuki said quietly, “Why can’t I say I want to see you?”

Deku rolled his eyes. “You’ve never—”

“I do.”

He blinked, then held his elbow tighter, lips a thin, tense line on his beautiful face.

“You pretend like you don’t know me,” Katsuki went on. “Pisses me the fuck off.”

“I had to do that in there, you fucking doofus.”

“No. I’m talking about all the other times.” Katsuki wanted him to look at him, but Deku was stubbornly avoiding him. “You always do this. You always fucking avoid me, pretend like I’m not here. Pretend like we never existed.”

Deku flashed his fangs. “ You broke up with me —”

“And I loved you even then!”

Deku roughly shoved him away, making a bee line for the elevators. Katsuki followed after him, voice rising with each step Deku took away from him, avoiding him again, refusing to see the bare, thumping heart Katsuki was presenting him in his palms.

“I was fifteen, Deku!” He said. “I’m not saying that I never broke your heart, but you are saying that I never did anything otherwise! We had a past together, we grew up and loved each other all our lives—”

“Shut up ,” Deku said weakly, desperately pressing the elevator button.

“I never wanted to lose you. You can say I was selfish and an asshole for leaving because I was and I have never tried to deny that, but don’t fucking say I never cared or loved you because—” I did. I still do.

“You know what your problem is, Bakugou?” Deku turned to him, fists shaking on his sides, hot, furious tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “My mom fucking died. I dropped out. I had to drop everything for Toshi. And you. Never. Had to experience any of that.” A lone, singular tear escaped and fell to the ground between them, breaking through the dust. “You loved me, but you stopped when it was convenient for you.” He pointed at own his chest, and Katsuki saw the twisted guts he’d had to live with because he had to detangle his life first, alone, and wasn’t done doing so even at this second. “I didn’t have that luxury, Bakugou! You could walk away, but I never could! I got fucked, I got pregnant, and I had to stay! So excuse me, Bakugou, if I don’t want to talk about love with you. Because you can walk away thinking that you loved me, and that could mean something to you. But I can’t.” 

The elevator dinged. It opened gently.

“You walked away thinking that you loved me. But I stayed here and hated you.”

Deku turned and stepped into the elevator. Katsuki, for a long moment, stood where he was, processing Deku’s words, turning them like a rubix cube puzzle but no two tiles were the same color. He listened to the despair and loneliness and abhorrence in his words, and they were so loud, so big, Katsuki didn’t even know where to start. Or if there was even a starting point for him anymore. He wondered how long Deku had tried to keep that point open for him until it became too much to bear.

The elevator doors started to slide close, but Katsuki’s hand shot between them, holding them apart, because he was selfish and an asshole in love, and he looked at Deku’s tear-stained face.

“But I came back,” he said desperately. “I came back, Izuku.”

They stared at each other, one in a broken room and one in a steel box, but Katsuki couldn’t tell which was whose or which was better. But he didn’t care. He wanted to be where Deku was, broken glass be damned, he could build them something new, he could, he could, he swear he could this time—

But Deku didn’t want to. 

And that realization hit him hard. Tore opened his chest, saw his heart, and decided it wasn’t worth taking.

Deku was right, he thought. He never had to experience what his Omega did because he chose to save himself from it. He remembered the promise he made at four years old, a lot more naive but just as sincere as the day he asked Deku to be his boyfriend; he promised to take care of him forever, to never make him cry. He meant it, he really did. So, what the hell happened to him? What happened that made him forget and abandon the first person he swore to protect?

He loved him. But what the hell did that love even mean when it failed to live up to its own words?

Katsuki’s hand slid away from the door, defeated. He stared into Deku’s eyes, a little darker now but just as beautiful as the day he met him. He let the doors close, let it take his Omega away, let it break their gaze, and maybe bring him out somewhere bright.

But then Deku’s arm emerged, clawed through the metal and dug into Katsuki’s uniform to yank him forward to look at him, witness his fire, his rage, his kingdom come. Forced him to burn with him, too.

Katsuki gaped at him, fucking blushed at how suddenly potent and fiery his petrichor scent became. The pine forest was on fire, the sky flashed with lightning. He took lungfuls of it, of that scent that only his Deku could be strong enough to possess, and his Alpha roared and his cock twitched. His scent and his grip made his body hum, like a metal fortress being shaken by a volcano’s eruption, and he was ready to snap and bring Deku down with him, pin him down and never let go. 

Oh how he wanted to do that, how he wanted to get Deku back, make him pliant again, make love to him. In reality, however, Katsuki breathed a shaky sigh and bared his neck — submitting . From the corner of his eyes, he watched Deku’s pupils expand and swallow the rest of his irises, shocked at first, then turning into something more akin to a beast that not even his Alpha could bark at, didn’t want to even because—

Because, fuck, it was sexy as hell.

“Then fucking step up, Alpha,” Deku spat, words coiling around his neck, biting him there and leaving marks to remember. Katsuki shivered, humming, drunk. “Stop talking about the love you had for me and do something now .”

Oh, he could think of something now , alright, like grabbing him equally as hard and crashing their lips together, pull him out of that elevator and show him what real flames looked like in the sky, but Deku was already shoving him away and going back into his neat little space in the elevator. This time, when he closed the doors on him, it wasn’t with finalty; it was with a challenge, and Katsuki was never one to back down.

Chapter Text

"Alright, who can tell me what this flower is?"

Ms. Uchida held up a small pot with a single red flower in it. There were so many petals, and Izuku struggled to count them all, completely forgetting that they were supposed to be playing Guess the Flower.

Kacchan's hand shot up. “Me! Me!” He shouted.

“Katsuki-kun?”

“A rose!”

“Excellent!” Ms. Uchida chirped. Kacchan's head whipped to Izuku, showing off a proud grin, and Izuku grinned back. His best friend was so amazing! He knew everything! “Now, Katsuki, do you know what a rose means?”

“Eh?” Kacchan's grin slipped off his face, replaced by a pout, his brows furrowing. “Whaddya mean? A rose is… a flower. Isn’t it?”

Ms. Uchida giggled. “Well, it is! But, flowers have other meanings. You see, flowers have a sort of language. You know how we speak with each other in Japanese?” The small students nodded. “Right, and flowers are like that! You can express feelings and words through flowers. So, for example, if you want to give someone flowers as a gift, you can use the flowers to express how you feel about them!”

“Cool…”

“Mm-hmm! Now, can anyone tell me — or guess — if you give someone a rose, what are you trying to say to that person?”

“The person is pretty?”

“The person has red hair?”

“The person has a funny face?”

In the midst of all the muttered guesses, a timid kid raised her hand. “It means love,” she said, voice small but steady.

Ms. Uchida beamed. “That’s correct, Hana-chan!”

The other kids clapped, in awe that their friend knew such a thing.

“How did you know that, Hana-chan?” Ms. Uchida asked.

Hana bowed her head, cheeks reddening. “Mama and Papa have a flower shop,” she whispered. “They teach me what flowers mean so I can help the customers.”

The other kids ooh-ed and ahh-ed at that, a few already asking her what different flowers mean. Izuku was also asking her stuff like what does grass mean — “Uhmm…?” — What does a big tree mean? — “We don’t sell trees…” — If we only give someone a petal, does that count as a flower? — “Customers would be angry if we did that…” — and he excitedly wrote it all down in his little notebook. Kacchan looked over his shoulder to read it, occasionally chastising him when he wrote his hiragana wrong or too wiggly — "Your handwriting sucks, Deku! I'll teach you how to write that word later, okay?"

"Okay, okay, settle down now!" Ms. Uchida called. She straightened up and said, "One, two, three, shh!!"

"Shhh…" The kids replied to their teacher's call, becoming quiet at once.

"Wonderful! Okay, let's look at another flower, shall we?"

Ms. Uchida raised another potted flower, this one small and purple. Again, she asked the kids what the flower was.

While the other kids were scratching their heads, Ms. Uchida looked at Hana, and eventually the girl shyly said, "It's a… a… Cro— Croko… Umm… I don't know how to say it properly."

"That's okay, Hana-chan! But I think you had the right word in mind, so good job! This flower is called a Spring Crocus."

Ms. Uchida placed the pot in front of her, letting the kids crawl forward and marvel at the petite flower. Izuku held his breath, surprised that a flower could be so pretty and have such nice big petals but so tiny.

Kacchan suddenly snorted next to him — ah, Izuku was mumbling again! And Kacchan heard him. "It looks a lot like you then, Deku," Kacchan said in his ear, like a secret. "You're tiny, too, but have a big head."

"D-Do not!"

"Yuh-huh!"

Deku stuck his tongue out at his best friend, and Kacchan mirrored him with more vigor, not one to lose. 

Ms. Uchida chuckled lightly at the two. "This flower is a very pretty flower," she was saying. "And it has a pretty meaning, too. It means purging — it's when you do something wrong and you say sorry, then you try to be a better person."

“My daddy says sorry to mommy with some white flowers everytime he goes out with his lady friends,” a kid piped up nonchalantly. Ms. Uchida suddenly choked. Unfazed, the kid picked his nose and continued, “I think mommy gets mad because she wasn’t invited.”

Ms. Uchida was laughing, but she sounded pretty funny to Izuku. Izuku was only partially listening, too focused on figuring out why the flower was called spring and not any other season. When he turned to Kacchan to ask him, he suddenly paused; Kacchan was pouting, and he smelled a little sour.

Izuku sat up straight, concerned. “Kacchan?” He asked. “What’s the matter?”

Kacchan huffed and folded his arms over his chest. He muttered something under his breath.

“Huh?” Izuku crawled closer to him until his curls were under the other’s chin. The sourness was stronger here, and Izuku scrunched his nose. “What, Kacchan?”

“You better not do that,” he eventually spat, low enough that only Izuku could hear while Ms. Uchida continued on with her flowers. Izuku wanted to listen and write stuff down, but Kacchan was more important. 

“Do what?”

“You better not hang out with other people without me!” Kacchan growled. “When we get married, we have to be together all the time! Where you go, I go! If you leave me like that, I’ll be really mad at you, too.”

Izuku gasped. “I would never!”

“Hmph.”

“I wouldn’t have fun without Kacchan! I wanna go where Kacchan goes, too!”

Kacchan still had a little pout on his face, but he looked at Izuku with a gleam in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Izuku assured. 

“Okay. Good. So you better not give me crappy apology flowers because then I’ll know you’ve been bad and I’ll be really angry.”

“But aren’t flowers supposed to make you not so angry anymore?”

“Flowers are stupid. It’d be better to just eat ice cream.”

“But I like flowers!”

“Hmph, of course you do, cuz you’re dumb.” Izuku pouted, but Kacchan patted his curls and grinned. “But I wouldn’t give you flowers to apologize because I’m gonna be the greatest Alpha you ever have! And you shouldn’t either because you’ll be my wife and you’ll be the best, too.”

Izuku giggled at that; since Kacchan declared that they would marry each other, Izuku always got super happy whenever he mentioned Izuku being a good wife. He wanted to be the best just like Kacchan! He couldn’t wait to get married.

“I’ll give you pretty flowers,” Kacchan said. “Pretty flowers with pretty meanings.” And Izuku believed him wholeheartedly, the little purple flowers and white apologies forgotten.

Why the hell did he do that.

“Fuck!” Izuku cursed when he, yet again, messed up his eyeliner. He cursed again when he slammed his palms on his dresser and looked at himself in the mirror.

He was wearing a soft, green sweater that was cropped high enough to show a peek of tummy and a pair of light jeans, clothes that he’d picked out yesterday night for his date, but he was hating it now. He hated that he could see the stretch marks on his lower stomach. He hated how the sleeves were just an inch too long and covered the top of his hands. He stared at his face, at the dark eyeshadow on his lids that he’d worked way too long on, at the texture on his cheeks, at his pale lips that he hadn’t touched yet because he fucking couldn’t get his eyeliner right for the past fifteen minutes. Now he had an okay line above his right eye and a crooked, ugly one on his left.

He hated it. He hated how he looked. He looked at the faint, almost-not-there hickeys littering his neck and collarbone and nothing on his scent gland, and he felt absolutely disgusting. Cheap. Worthless. Unwanted. Couldn’t do anything right. He looked at his stupid makeup and stupid clothes and felt ugly down to his bones, like even the things under his skin weren’t right either.

Izuku sobbed, crouched on the floor and scooted backwards until his back hit the foot of his bed, curled in on himself and sobbed into his knees. He clawed behind him, grabbed the back of his sweater and tore it off his body. Breath rattling in his throat, he passed his palms over his bare arms, felt the goosebumps there. He closed his eyes, choked on his breath. One, two, three. He released a shaky exhale.

Why. Why did he do that. Why did he challenge Bakugou like that as if he was ever going to really pursue him, as if Bakugou wasn’t a man who had everything he could ever want, as if Izuku was ever going to be more than the ex he fucked and abandoned because he wasn’t good enough to be with. Izuku was a waiter at a diner. Izuku was a single mother with no higher education. Izuku was the love of his life at one point but even then he hadn’t been enough. Why did he think Bakugou would want him now. Why did he want him to.

“Breathe,” Izuku cried silently. He gripped his own hair and pulled, kept pulling until he felt something other than the painful grip of reality. “Breathe. Come on. Come on.”

He heard his front door open, followed by his son cheering.

“I’m here,” Bakugou called out.

Yeah. He was here, alright. Just… Just not in a way that mattered.

Their walls were thick enough that Izuku couldn’t hear anything else afterwards. He knew he had to get up soon; he had a date to go to, a son he had to kiss, and an ex he had to face. An ex he’d just hours ago pulled by the shirt and told him to step up, smelled the arousal off him like a bonfire turning into wildfire.

I came back.

Izuku sighed. He ran his hand through his hair one more time before he stood up and went to his dresser. His reflection told him that he now had horrible black tracks running down from his eyes to his cheeks, smudged eyeshadow, and even some makeup on the knees of his jeans. Izuku scoffed at the sight, wishing this person would stop looking at him with such disdain and disappointment every damn day. 

He came back, Izuku thought as he cleaned his face to start over. He came back but not for me. Why would he. Izuku figured he could just put some powder and lip balm and be done with it.

He changed into a baggy, well-loved shirt and sweatpants that didn’t make him look too homeless. He tried putting his hair up in a little ponytail, decided he hated it, hated also how it looked untied, then put a beanie on his head. He stared at his reflection for a little while longer, unmoving, silent. He never did like making eye contact with people, especially with his own eyes in the mirror. Shit sent tingles up his spine. Slapping some scent blockers on his glands, he finally went out of his room.

And then promptly crashed his face into a wall of flowers.

“Wha—!”

“Shit!” Bakugou hurriedly took a step back, a bouquet of flowers in his hands — well, a mostly intact bouquet now, since some of the petals were in Izuku’s mouth. Izuku spluttered, catching one in his hand. He stared at it dumbly before looking up at Bakugou.

And boy was Bakugou… red. Blushing so hard to the tips of his ears. Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him this flustered.

“S-Sorry, about, um, that,” Bakugou muttered. He gently held out the flowers. “I got you these.”

It was a beautiful array of white tulips, white orchids, daffodils, and these small purple ones that Izuku didn’t really know the name of. The whites of each flower were so clean, like someone had taken the time to really sort them out and pick the best of the bunch, and the slight differences in shade was masterfully arranged to not clash with one another but instead harmonized beautifully, especially with the purple flowers giving that pop of color.

Tentatively, Izuku held the bouquet in his arms. He didn’t know why, but the incredibly simple color scheme of the flowers gave him this sudden wave of serenity, of blankness and calmness, and it shushed Izuku’s loud mind, slowly bringing him down to tranquil stillness. He didn’t have to pick apart any puzzle, any thought, any words. He could just stare and smell the flowers.

“They smell so good,” he breathed, chest suddenly bursting, roots taking shape, grape vines squeezing his heart.

“Yeah?” Bakugou sounded so tiny that Izuku had to look up and make sure he hadn’t shrunk a tenth of his size. No, he was still big, but he looked younger, somehow. He looked a little more like when he’d asked Izuku out on their first date. 

Izuku blinked, suddenly having trouble recognizing the man before him. He blinked again and shook his head. “I, um,” he started. “I— Thank you. For these. Why are you giving me these?”

Bakugou put his hands in his pockets, his lips momentarily forming a tight, straight line on his face. After a moment, he eventually scoffed, sneering, but not at Izuku; it was like he was looking at his own shadow on the floor. “They’re fucking ugly,” he said suddenly. Then, in a smaller voice, he said, “Sorry.”

Izuku’s shoulders lifted a fraction, his eyes blinked, his heart stuttered, and he didn’t know why they did. In his mind, he understood — he thought he did, at least — that Bakugou was apologizing for… what, gifting him ugly flowers? As cryptic as that sounded. But his tiny admission of an apology felt like the world had shuddered beneath his feet. Izuku struggled to get his footing, but there was no real earthquake — just their shadows overlapping.

“I, um.” Izuku tried to breathe, but his chest was too full — cluttered. “I should,” he pointed the flowers towards the hall, “I should put these in some water.”

He just took a step forward when Bakugou said, “Deku.”

And he was just too eager to answer, “Yes?”

Every fucking time he looked at him, Izuku felt like he wanted to shed his skin from how much it prickled with goosebumps. Now, Bakugou looked at him, and he wasn’t wearing scent blockers, and Izuku could smell gunpowder and smokey bonfires, could feel the heat radiating from his body like a welcoming hearth, could see the actual flames in his eyes as they bored into him. He looked at him, and Izuku shakily breathed out, the goosebumps rippling down to his bones, breaking them, slithering dangerously close to his beating heart.

Izuku was going to go crazy. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away, holding the flowers closer to his chest, hoping that their little petals could shield him; they’d be better armor than his own body, he thought. “What, Bakugou?” He asked, trying and failing to be stern. His skin was already chipping off as he spoke.

“You—” Bakugou looked as lost as he did, as if it wasn’t him who’d called him, who’d made them stand here, stagnant. “I just—”

“What?” Izuku prompted, breathless, eyes focused on his lips.

“You look—” Bakugou took a step towards him, and Izuku craned his neck so he could still look at him, and it was like he was presenting his neck to him, fuck, and Izuku suddenly felt naked — he wanted to get naked, might as well be with how Bakugou looked like he wanted to get him there himself in that little hallway, in the elevator, too, like he could want him anywhere. “You look so fucking soft. Pretty.”

The hairs on his arms stood up, and he felt a sting to his chest. He remembered the person staring back at him in the mirror, and his face crumpled. “I don’t—” He spat, but Bakugou continued.

“Why the fuck did you keep this shirt,” Bakugou said through gritted teeth, like he was holding back, and the chains were clinking violently. “Fuck, Deku.”

His baggy, well-loved shirt hugged him loosely, exactly the way Bakugou used to when they spent the night together, a movie on, Bakugou with his arm around him, Izuku in this very same shirt. It was a shirt that became a little inside joke between them — it was big enough for Bakugou to sneak his hand up the hem and touch his skin, so if Izuku wore it during a movie night, it meant that they wouldn’t watch a damn thing that night.

The memories were pressed into the fabric, even long after his ex lover’s scent faded from it. Now, they were pressing into him, a heavy weight on his skin, then Izuku snapped back into reality and realized that Bakugou had his hand on his waist, balling the fabric in his fist, a fingertip grazing his skin.

Izuku jerked back like the touch burned him — and it did, it hurt, it hurt that the goosebumps never went away, it hurt that Bakugou could still touch him and it would still feel like fireworks even though the flame in his chest had long been extinguished.

Izuku was all dried up, and the slightest spark threatened to consume him whole. It was all the more painful knowing that the person with the lighter was in front of him — this person who had once been in his life every day but now only came by once or twice a week, this person who had once been his lover but now only the father of his child. Bakugou was capable of leveling a city with his explosions, but it only took one touch of his hand to break Izuku, tear his heart in two.

Bakugou was a pro hero, but he was the villain in Izuku's life. And all the worst villains had beautiful faces. Izuku had spent five years simmering in this knowledge.

So why the hell was he starting to forget?

"Don't touch me," Izuku hissed, voice low, eyes shining in the dim light of the hall. "Don't ever touch me again."

Katsuki jumped. "Deku?" He murmured, but he sounded like he was talking to the ghosts in the house.

But wasn't Izuku one of those ghosts anyway?

Izuku spat a venomous, hateful laugh. Right. He was just a shell, after all. Lifeless. Useless. Just a body taking up space. He could yip and bark and bite all he wanted — out there, even in his own home — but eventually he wasn't supposed to be visible. He was just a ghost. And Bakugou was Bakugou Katsuki. Bakugou was visible, and everyone wanted to witness him. Izuku wasn't even the dust on his boots.

Izuku shouldered past him, walking away as far as he could but only reaching his kitchen. He stepped on the pedal of his trashcan and dumped the bouquet in, but it was overflowing and the lid wouldn't shut, the bright petals clinging to the edge, like it wanted to claw itself out. In a fit of rage — at himself, at the person in his mirror who disgusted him and couldn't fucking leave, at the world, at the stupid fucking trashcan, at Bakugou — Bakugou, Bakugou, fuck you, oh my fucking god, why, why, why — Izuku threw open the lid with one hand and shoved the bouquet in deeper with his other hand, crushing it with all the waste inside, and when it all crunched and stuck together, Izuku slammed the trashcan shut and cried.

Kneeling in front of his trashcan in his kitchen, both hands on the cold metal surface of the lid, Izuku's body shuddered with pathetic sobs. The tears streamed down his face in fat droplets, barely clinging to his chin before dropping down on his floor and pants. It was alarming how much was coming out of his eyes, but Izuku still felt like he was going to burst open. He only had two eyes for it to come out, he only had so much, he was only Midoriya Izuku. He only had so much of himself and none of it was enough. 

“Deku…?”

Izuku hiccuped, put his face on the back of his hands, perched on the edge of his trashcan. Bakugou sounded the same, same as he did when he first whispered that he loved him, and that wasn’t fair. He got to be the same. That wasn’t fair.

It had been a mistake; it had been a mistake to have held him and demanded something that was long dead. If Bakugou left him when he was still whole, then there was no chance of him staying when he was broken. Not with his stretch marks. Not with someone else’s marks on his neck. Not with his smudged eyeliner and ugly sweaters and twisted insides. Not with an empty shell of a person. Not when Izuku was still so fucking pathetic that a simple touch from Bakugou on his waist could make him wish that they were still lovers.

“Deku,” came that same, same, same voice. “Tell me what you need. Please.”

A few more sobs escaped his throat, but then Izuku took a breath and wiped his face with his hand, but then the sobs started up again and he couldn’t speak. He heard Bakugou shifting behind him, then the sound of water.

“Drink.” When Izuku didn’t turn, he heard a soft clink on the floor next to him. “Drink,” Bakugou said again, softer, a little farther away.

Izuku sniffled but finally took the glass of water.

“I’ll be right back,” Bakugou said, then he went away. Izuku heard Toshi’s voice, and he tensed and instinctively tried wiping his face with the sleeves of his shirt. However, his son’s voice grew farther, then there was a click of a door closing. Moments later, Izuku heard Bakugou taking a seat on the floor a few feet away from him. Izuku turned his face away from him.

“I took him to his room,” Bakugou was saying, settling down with a grunt. “Gave him my phone to play some games. He didn’t see anything.”

Izuku appreciated that. But he remained silent. For a long time, Bakugou was silent, too. That, Izuku didn’t know if he wanted that or not.

“We need to talk,” Bakugou eventually said, his whispered words like the pin of a grenade dropping. Izuku held his breath, waiting for the explosion. “But I don’t know what the fuck to say, Izuku.”

They fell into silence once again. Breath still in his throat, Izuku chanced a glance at Bakugou. From the corner of his eye, he could see Bakugou sitting with his back on his kitchen counter, legs bent and arms between them, his head tilted up and eyes fixed on him. Their eyes met, and Izuku felt the detonation coming.

“I hate you,” Izuku said. 

Bakugou tried, Izuku could tell, but the corner of his mouth twitched, his eyes dulled. The great Dynamight just took an explosion to the heart. The villain of Izuku’s life was crumbling before him.

“I hate you for leaving,” Izuku continued, refusing to let go of Bakugou’s gaze. “I hate you for having it so easy. I hate that you can sit there and wonder what’s wrong with me and not understand what it is I feel every fucking day that I’m here.”

Bakugou's mouth formed a tense, straight line on his face — his beautiful, villainous face — but words were slow to leave him. But Izuku had plenty.

"Don't ask me what I need," Izuku said. "Because I've been miserable for years and I don't know how to stop it either. Thinking about it just makes me tired. Whatever it is, it's not something easy anyway."

There was a moment's pause, and Izuku was ready to speak mindlessly again until Bakugou suddenly spoke. "Well," he said evenly. "S'good thing I don't do easy stuff then."

Izuku scoffed. "What, you think I need you to make me happy?" He asked, bitterness lacing his words like barbed wire.

"No," Bakugou said. "You hate me." He paused. He looked like he was swallowing a rotten pill. He continued quietly, "But I don't hate you, Deku."

At that, Izuku blinked and sat up straighter, half a mind thinking he'd heard him wrong. He searched for fissures, for cracks in his expression, for a lie to peek through the scarlet of his eyes, but he found… nothing.

Izuku wanted to laugh, but the shock was heavier than his need to make a noise.

"You can hate me, Deku," Bakugou said. "But I'm done with that. I'm done with yelling. I'm done walking past you whenever I step in this house, Izuku."

Bakugou leaned his body closer, one arm out to keep him balanced, almost touching him, but Izuku couldn't notice — the heat of those hands weren't nearly as searing as those eyes boring brands into his skin. When Bakugou's gaze shifted around his face, a blush formed at its wake.

“You told me to step up,” he whispered. His eyes softened then, the flames parting to show gray clouds overhead, heavy with the promise of rain — as if this kitchen, this house, needed more of that. As if this house could hold through a handful more of it. But Bakugou held the dam, which Izuku admired; the flood must be beating his body, too. “Whether you still mean it or not now, I don’t give a damn. This is what I should’ve been doing ages ago.” He paused, and his voice suddenly became hoarse, crooked, wood splintering. “And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for being so fucking late, Deku.”

Bakugou did not cry. His eyes glistened, his shoulders trembled, but he did not cry. But Izuku did. Again. And again. And again. It seemed like that was all Izuku could do in this life. He could only drown in his own sorrow, and everytime he swam to shore, another flood would take over the land he stepped on. It was endless. So many times he wanted to stop swimming, let the tides take him under — it would be easier to let the water fill his lungs than continuously have his body shattered on the jagged rocks. 

But he had to swim. For Toshi. For the child who gave him sunshine in the rough waters. For all his regrets for the circumstances of his pregnancy, Toshi was a blessing to have and raise; how could he regret the little happiness that kept him afloat?

And now, as Izuku cried, floating on his back on the murky waters, Bakugou came to a stop next to him on a lifeboat.

“I hate you,” Izuku sobbed pathetically. “I hate you, I hate you…” Izuku said because that was the only easy thing that came to him. Hating Bakugou was the easy way out. And he wanted one thing to be fucking easy.

But it hadn’t felt easy in weeks. It hadn’t felt easy since the day Bakugou had him trapped against the kitchen counter, smelling so much like happy memories, so close that Izuku could almost fool himself into thinking Bakugou had looked at him with love in his eyes.

“I hate you,” Izuku cried, and Bakugou suddenly crawled forward like a limping soldier and told him just as desperately, “I don’t hate you, Deku.”

“Bullshit!” Izuku screamed, his shoulders shaking. “I hate you!”

“Can I hold you, Deku?”

“I hate you, I hate you, why would you— why—”

“I don’t hate you,” Bakugou said fiercely. Izuku’s breath rattled violently in his lungs, and Izuku could only stare at him, at the open wound he’d created. Izuku sobbed louder at the sight.

“Why…”

“Deku.” Bakugou reached out his hand, slowly so Izuku could see him and move away. He didn’t. Bakugou’s palm touched his cheek, the scent glands on his wrist sticky with the scent of caramel and comfort, and Izuku’s traitorous, empty body leaned into the touch.

He was weak. He was cheap. He was worthless.

But Bakugou was in front of him, saying that he was wanted.

And he didn’t know what to do.

“Hate me if you want,” Bakugou whispered, his words touching Izuku’s lips. “But I won’t back down anymore. Fuck the flowers. I’ll try something else tomorrow. And the day after that. I’m going to fucking be here, and I’m going to keep fucking trying even if you never stop hating me.” Bakugou opened his mouth, as if to say more, but he snapped his teeth shut before the words escaped. The words that he instead let free were, “I’m here, Izuku.”

I’m here.

Bakugou was here. He was pulling Izuku into the lifeboat. 

But—

But how was he so sure that Bakugou wasn’t going to drop him overboard — again? How was he so sure that Bakugou was here but wanted to stay? He remembered the way his touch burned him, how it hurt to know that it still felt that way even after all these years, how it made him feel so fucking easy and small. He remembered how it hurt, and the hurt was bigger than his desperation for survival.

He could survive on his own. It felt like he was cheating himself by letting the one person who abandoned him come back and sweep him off his feet at the first sign of acceptance. He was not that low. He was not that stupid.

He was lonely. But he was not a damsel waiting to be saved. He could fucking swim.

Izuku hissed a breath through his teeth and pulled his face away from Bakugou’s hand. Bakugou flinched, his hand retracting but still hovering between them. Like he was waiting for Izuku to change his mind.

Which was bullshit. It was bullshit.

“I don’t need you to make me fucking happy,” Izuku spat, running his arm over his eyes. “Because you’re the fucking reason I’m here, Bakugou.” Izuku scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over himself in his haste, but he had to move — keep moving, keep swimming to a shore he could find on his own that wouldn’t drown, fuck Bakugou’s lifeboat and his twisted promises of salvation. 

“I can be happy on my own,” Izuku muttered — to Bakugou, to himself, too, maybe. “I don’t need you to hold my hand as if I don’t know where the fuck I’m going. As if you know any better.”

Izuku turned to walk away, ready to drop more grenades in his wake, ready to tear this fucking house down to prove his point, but suddenly—

“You’re a shit nerd, Deku!” Bakugou called out.

Izuku whirled, mouth agape. “Excuse me!?” He exclaimed, bewildered that that was his shitty ex’s response of all responses.

“I don’t know what kind of image you have of me in that shitty head of yours,” Bakugou said, exasperated. “And I guess I don’t really care. I meant what I said.” Bakugou straightened to his full height, but he met Izuku’s gaze head-on. “Hate me all you want. But that’s not gonna fucking stop me from being here and being better. Shit’s got nothing to do with making you happy. What part of me barging in here makes you think I’m doing this because I have a game plan of making you happy, huh?”

Bakugou took a step forward, not to crowd him into a corner, but to just step forward — like he wanted to progress. Like he wanted this to be his first step towards it, even though Izuku was planted firmly on his spot from five years ago.

“I’m doing this because I want to,” Bakugou said. He let out a laugh that sounded almost as hollow as Izuku felt inside; it echoed in the hallways, but the bouncing sounds had no substance, no real words. “And isn’t that just on brand of me? But I just— I want to do this because… this is what I should have done a long time ago. This is me speaking my truth."

Izuku blinked dumbly. Suddenly his world looked like it'd shifted two feet to the left — everything seemingly the same, but he kept tripping at every turn, stubbing his toe on little things. His kitchen was the same. Bakugou was as tall and broad as ever. But they suddenly looked like someone else's kitchen. Bakugou suddenly looked shorter — like their eyes were finally on the same level. Izuku suddenly wasn't looking at the spot between his brows or his forehead or the wall behind him; he was looking straight ahead, at scarlet eyes.

When did everything shift? How had it all begun? How had Izuku missed it all?

"Deku," Bakugou suddenly said, making Izuku jolt with a start. Bakugou casually put his hands in his pockets and leaned on the kitchen counter. "You have a date, don't you?"

Izuku paused, brain barely catching up to the present because he'd been too busy catching the past. When the words finally registered, Izuku gasped and looked at the time.

"Crap!" Izuku exclaimed because his boyfriend — Izuku you have a fucking boyfriend you fucking idiot what the fuck are you doing oh my fucking — was going to be here in less than five minutes!

He had no time to panic even though he desperately wanted to. The good thing about his a-mile-a-minute brain was that sometimes it went so fast that he could just blow through some initial thoughts and focus on another crisis.

Izuku ran to the sink, completely forgetting Bakugou was even there, and started furiously cleaning his face with running water. He had to reapply his lip balm! He had to put some powder under his eyes! He had to—

"Relax," Bakugou piped up.

"You shut up!" Izuku hissed, eyes still closed from the water in his eyes. He heard a chuckle behind him, and he blindly kicked out until he got a hit on a thick leg; Bakugou just laughed louder, the fucking ass.

Just as he was grabbing a paper towel, a car honked in front of his house.

"Shit, shit, shit." Izuku was spinning — quite literally spinning in place because he had to do shit but he couldn't figure out what first — but then Bakugou tapped him on the shoulder, Izuku's phone in his hand.

Izuku called his boyfriend, and it was picked up at the second ring.

"Hey, baby," the Alpha's smooth voice crooned.

"Hi," Izuku said breathlessly. "Um, babe, can you wait like five more minutes? I have to, uhh—" He glanced at Bakugou, then quickly looked away before he could register their brief eye contact. "I have to take care of Toshi really quick."

"Of course. I'll come in and help."

"No!" Izuku said, then winced at his own intensity. "I mean…" Izuku glanced again at Bakugou, first at his chest, then slowly looked up at his face. Bakugou was unreadable, quiet. Eventually, Izuku murmured to the phone, "He's, um, he's here right now. I'll just meet you outside, okay?"

"Oh."

Izuku's guts tightened at the flat, simple tone. "I'll meet you outside, okay?" Izuku repeated, hushed, holding his breath.

"Baby, of course," he replied. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was just concerned. You're okay, right?"

"Yeah. Just give me five."

"Alright. Say hi to Toshi for me."

Izuku giggled, the sound coming easier to him now. "Sure. Bye."

"Bye, baby."

When Izuku pocketed his phone, sighing heavily, he turned to Bakugou and said to the space between their shoes, "I have to go."

"Course," Bakugou said. He cleared his throat, and Izuku thought he was going to speak again, but Bakugou just turned and walked away.

"Toshi," Izuku heard him call out down the hall, followed by a door opening. "Toshi, come out and kiss your mom goodbye."

Izuku breathed in, heard his son bound down the hallway, and put a wide smile on his face just in time for Toshi to pivot his way into the kitchen.

"Mama, have fun!" Toshi cheered, and Izuku scooped the pup into his arms and gave him hearty kisses on his cheek.

"Thank you, sweetheart!" Izuku cooed. "You be good, okay? I love you!"

"I love you!"

"I love you moreeee!" Izuku growled playfully, rubbing his forehead on Toshi's neck, scenting him energetically and earning a happy squeal in return. Izuku passed him over to Bakugou, smiling softly at his child. "I'll be back soon, okay? And Uncle—" he paused, remembering who was there with them. He cleared his throat. "Uncle said hi, and he's sorry he can't see you right now. But we can go visit him later this week, yeah?"

"Kaaayy."

Izuku's eyes flicked up to Bakugou. The Alpha was already looking at him — did he even stop looking at all? "I'll, uhh." Izuku coughed and looked away; he didn't know what to do when Bakugou looked at him like that. "I'll be going then."

"Yeah," Bakugou said smoothly. "Have a good night."

"... Thanks."

Izuku grabbed his stuff in a daze, almost forgot to put some powder below his eyes until he remembered at the front door, then he was going down the sidewalk to the car waiting for him.

Izuku climbed in the passenger seat, sighing. "Hey, I'm so sorry I'm late," Izuku was saying as he buckled his seatbelt; he had to do something with his jittery hands first or else he was going to go insane. "There was just so much to do, I had a shitty fucking evening and I'm stressed, my fucking makeup wouldn't cooperate, I had to start over and over and over again, oh my god, and I just couldn't take it anymore and I just put some lotion and lip balm and shit so I look horrible — I'm so so so sorry I look like this, I don't know where we're going and I hope to god it isn't something fancy, please tell me it isn't something fancy, I just want to sit and breathe, oh my fucking gooood, babe, I'm gonna—"

Monoma Neito kissed his freckled cheek with so much theatrical flare that Izuku stopped his rambling, whining and giggling instead. "Babe, ew!" Izuku laughed.

Neito chuckled. "Take a breath, baby," he said, smiling. Izuku mirrored his smile, a blush creeping up his neck. Neito was so painfully handsome — not rugged and sharp like Bakugou, but soft and round and pretty. His blond hair was neatly combed, his dark eyes brimming with youthful mischief that made Izuku feel like he could be and act young again.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Izuku sighed. "I'm just… tired."

"I understand. I was thinking we could go get dinner and see a nice movie, but I can cook you something instead, and we can watch some shows on TV."

"Oh, but you took the time to dress up…" Izuku always thought the Alpha was dressed up, no matter what he wore; he was just so effortlessly handsome. He was wearing a deep navy button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, light dress pants, and a silver watch on his wrist, and that already made Neito look so, so delicious. Izuku made a show of appreciating the attire by giving him a playful once-over and biting his lip, green eyes lifting to meet his boyfriend's darkening gaze.

"Hmm." Neito leaned forward, his lips tickling Izuku's ear, his tangerine and lime scent lingering under Izuku's nose. "I like my clothes on the floor anyway," he purred, and Izuku laughed at that.

"You're a dork," Izuku said, grinning widely.

Neito kissed him, and Izuku felt the empty chamber in his chest hum with a small, safe earthquake. Safe. Safe. He was safe. He could just float here and breathe.

Monoma Neito just made him feel like he could breathe.

Hours later, while Izuku was lying bare on his lover's bed, belly full and head buzzing pleasantly with wine, Izuku opened his phone.

The room was dark with the late night. Neito was next to him, body asleep and rolled over to face the other side. They had an alarm that was supposed to wake them up in another hour so Izuku could be driven home. However, Izuku was wide awake. The glare from his phone bathed his face in a rectangular window of bright light.

He was looking up "purple flowers". He went to images and scrolled through a flurry of them. Down, down, down, until he paused at a familiar sight. Light purple, small, its petals looking like it was too big for its body. Pretty. 

It was a Spring Crocus flower.

He searched for "Spring Crocus flower meaning".

When the results came, Izuku breathed in shallowly. He searched for white orchids, white tulips, and daffodils.

Purging.

Forgiveness.

Purity.

New beginnings.

Loneliness.

Izuku barked a quiet, sticky laugh. He put down his phone and looked up at his boyfriend's ceiling. And he looked up for a long, long time. He didn't even realize the tears running down his temples until the alarm blared and Neito asked him what was wrong.

Izuku didn't know how to answer him. He didn't even know how to answer to himself. Eventually Neito made him some soup, kissed him, scented him. Loved him. And still, Izuku could not answer.

He just wanted to go home. But he wasn't sure where that was, either. He wondered which shore it had been on before the flood took everything away.

Chapter Text

She had the fucking ugliest dye job Katsuki had ever seen. His parents worked in the beauty industry so he absolutely knows his shit, okay, and that shit was horrendous . She had a rainbow effect going on, but the rainbow had mostly faded, or maybe it was fucked from the start, and it had this weird yellow undertone to it. The red, blue, and purple were pale, but somehow the green was fucking neon. Holy shit.

“U-Um, B-Bakugou…?”

Katsuki blinked. Oh, right. He was so distracted by the crime scene on her head that he forgot she was talking.

“I didn’t hear a word you just said,” he said simply. Her face crumpled like she ate a lemon and a cough drop at the same time. “Listen, is this important? I have somewhere to be.”

The girl’s friend, who at the very least had normal brown hair — why the fuck did her friend let this bitch run around with that on her head, Jesus Christ, some friend you are — frantically patted her shoulder in a gesture of encouragement. The girl looked back at her for a second, nodded nervously, then faced him again.

“I-I’m sorry for taking your time, Bakugou, but I came here to— to— Um—”

Katsuki was going to die. He rolled his eyes and made a move to leave, but the girl plowed through.

“I-I want to confess!” She shouted suddenly, and fucking ow , his ears. “I-I-I like you, Bakugou! I always have! I s-saw you at the last sports festival, and you were so amazing, and I’ve decided to be brave and tell you how I feel because you inspired me to be brave, too!” She bowed deeply and held out a pink letter that smelled of roses.

Katsuki stared at the offering, bewildered.

“I like you a lot, Bakugou, I really do! M-Maybe you’ll never accept my feelings, but I wanted to—”

“Well, obviously?”

The girl froze. Her friend behind her gaped.

Katsuki stuffed his hands in his pockets and scowled. “I have a fucking boyfriend, dipshit,” he said, in the same tone that he would tell her that two plus two equals four — exasperated, confused more than angry that she somehow didn’t know that.

The girl slowly straightened, but she was pale and shaking. “I… I-I…”

“What was it you said? You saw me at the sports festival?” Katsuki said. “Then you must’ve seen me literally making out with him when I fucking won.”

“I… I mean, I… Well…”

“This is stupid.” He turned away, huffing.

“W-Wait!” She grabbed his sleeve, and Katsuki immediately swatted her hand away.

“Oi, who gave you fucking permission to touch me?” He demanded. “You’re wasting my time, and like I fucking told you, I got somewhere to be , so fuck off .”

“I’m really, really, sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you!” She said quickly. “I… Yes, I saw you w-with him, but I just assumed— my friends also said— I— we—”

The girl made a wounded noise, and she curled in on herself, backing away, literally a second and a half away from crying. Katsuki internally and externally rolled his eyes. Just when he was about to leave again, the girl’s friend shouted after him.

“You’re an idiot, Bakugou! Haru-chan is a wonderful person, and you’re missing out!”

Holy shit, they were pissing him off. He didn’t even know these people — like, genuinely. He didn’t know half the names of his classmates, but he at least knew their shitty faces. Them, on the other hand? He had no clue, but goddamn were they branding themselves on his last nerve. 

They were just shitty extras. He wasted enough time with them, anyway. Deku was waiting for him at his house, sick with a fever. He kept walking.

“And—” the friend shouted louder. “She’s way better than some Quirkless nobody !”

Katsuki stopped. Stood there for a good three seconds while the friend kept shouting whatever else behind him. He couldn’t hear her anymore.

His blood was simmering too loud in his ears to hear anything at all.

He turned around and walked back to them.

The friend was holding little crying Haru-chan by the shoulders, consoling her, all while saying something about Katsuki being mean and stupid and other things that he really, really didn’t care about — except one thing.

“What did you call Deku?” He asked quietly.

The friend shut her mouth, finally, but Katsuki wanted her to talk.

“You stalk me in front of my classroom,” he said. “Had the gall to pull me aside. Wasted my time. Then had the fucking nerve to confess when you know damn well I have a boyfriend, and insult him, too.”

He took a step forward, held out his hand, and popped an explosion big enough that the girls had to jump away, screaming.

“W-We’re calling the teacher!”

“Call ‘em. They never did shit for Deku when the likes of you bullied him anyway.”

He was five minutes late by the time he met up with Deku. The nerd’s fever had gone down, but when Katsuki tried to kiss him, Deku made a fuss and slapped a mask on his lips instead. Inko warmed up the soup he’d brought. Katsuki scented and held his nerd tight, despite the light protests. He didn’t tell him what had happened and why he was late.

But, eventually, Deku found out when the next day, Katsuki was pulled out of class to the principal’s office. Katsuki wasn’t even fazed when he walked out, and still wasn’t when he came back and started packing his shit.

“K-Kacchan?” Deku asked.

Katsuki was going to explain to him what had happened — explain to him that he’d fired a warning blast at two girls but never touched either of them. It had been a mild, contained explosion in his hand, and he had walked away after warning them to stop talking shit about Deku. Despite neither of the girls getting hurt, Katsuki was suspended for two weeks. He was going to explain, but not then, because he knew his nerd would throw a fit in the middle of class and storm out with him.

Instead, he kissed him briefly and told him that he’ll see him at his place.

He wasn’t angry about being suspended. He knew at the time that that was going to happen.

He was angry that when two shitty, unscathed girls complained, the school put their foot down and gave punishment. But when Deku, battered and bruised, wet from being pushed into a koi pond, did the same thing, the school shrugged their shoulders and told him stupid kids would be stupid kids, and they were sorry that they couldn’t change childish ideas about Quirkless Omegas in a day. Go home and get some rest.

Katsuki showed no sign of anger at that moment only because he didn’t want his nerd to worry. He only showed it when he touched his hand to a tree on school grounds and lit it on fire.

And when Deku finally knew, Katsuki had to tie down his anger — anger at the school for punishing his Kacchan, at the girls who pressured him to accept their feelings — and in Katsuki’s room that evening, they were both just angry, disappointed, teary-eyed boys that couldn’t do much. Couldn’t kiss at a sports festival without people dismissing their relationship. Couldn’t convince their principal to protect vulnerable students. They could only hold and tell each other, “I love you, please don’t do that, it’s not worth it.”

But in Katsuki’s head, it had to be worth something. He couldn’t fathom why their efforts couldn’t be worth it when his lover was hurting, couldn’t fathom why he couldn’t protect him despite his power. He thought about his dream of going to UA, becoming a pro hero, and he suddenly had the urge to laugh — what kind of hero couldn’t make middle school bullies shut up? Couldn’t keep them away from his mate? Pathetic.

That evening, Katsuki was angry, and he vowed to use that anger to be stronger, get them both out of that shitty school, and protect him better in the future.

The pro heroes were at Musutafu Daycare to assess the venue in preparation for the big event, but that derailed into an impromptu meet and greet session with the kids.

Katsuki’s friends were eating that shit up, though. They were only 20 years old, so they barely had two years in their belts as pro heroes. They were definitely not swimming in the life of fame and fortune just yet, and recognition from the public was meh at best when you were a rookie. Unless, of course, you were Bakugou Katsuki — climbing the ranks like they were just stairs in his own house kinda makes a guy pretty famous.

And it fucking sucked. Katsuki would love for everyone to just fuck off out of his personal space and let him run dumb errands in peace, thank you very fucking much.

They had arranged to come after-hours to not disrupt anyone’s schedule or the activities in the daycare, and the committee had kept the visit lowkey to avoid a mob waiting around at the front door. Thanks to that, the adults present were just the pro heroes and parents involved with the reopening event. Despite that, the parents brought along their excited little gremlins, and so it was more hectic than Katsuki was expecting.

But as mentioned, his friends were enjoying the attention and fun. Two pups were hanging off Kirishima’s flexed arms like they were playing with the monkey bars at the park. Kaminari was playing with his electricity just enough to make a bunch of their hairs stand up. A pup with ram horns and starstruck eyes was talking with Ashido, who let the pup touch her own horns with a giggle. Sero was sitting cross-legged on the floor while three younger, identical pups stuck his own tapes to his face; their mom eventually came and profusely apologized, while Sero waved it off with a laugh.

And then there was Katsuki.

“Can you show us one more time? Please, please, please?” A pup begged with the biggest puppy eyes, with half a dozen other brats behind her doing the same thing.

Katsuki sighed, not in annoyance, but in exasperated fondness. “I did it like five times already, guys,” he said.

“One more! One more!”

Toshi was one of the gremlins begging him to show off his fireworks, which added to Katsuki’s (immense) fondness because he sees this shit every week and yet is still enamored. That made his Alpha puff out its chest with pride every time.

“Alright, alright. But after this, we’re done, okay? The adults came here to work.” He turned his head to his colleagues still dicking around. “ Right , adults?”

His pack members smiled sheepishly but gave the affirmative.

“Okay! Show us, show us!”

The pups crowded around him as he let out small fireworks in his palms. Their faces lit up, both from fascination and the light coming from the dancing pops. Katsuki smirked as they made little happy noises at the display, but he only watched little Toshi’s face — the sheer happiness in his eyes, the grin that was a carbon copy of his dam’s. 

It was definitely a lot stuffier and distracting to have these brats tag along while they were doing work, but Katsuki was grateful that his son was here. Here, admiring his sire’s Quirk, voicing his amazement so openly and sincerely. At that moment, at every moment just like this, Katsuki felt like the world was his.

Katsuki eventually put out his sparks. “Alright, show’s over, brats,” he said.

“Awww.”

“Oi, heroes,” Katsuki called. “We gotta check out the next room, remember?”

“Coming!”

Someone took Katsuki’s hand; it was Toshi. “Unc— Dynamight, I’ll show you the room!” He said excitedly. Katsuki smiled down at him, squeezing the little one’s hand in his and letting himself be pulled along.

Toshi knew not to call him “Uncle Kacchan” when there were people around since he was old enough to say “Uncle” and “Kacchan”. Katsuki was usually with his son indoors; rarely did they spend the day in public because people were shitty and liked to pry and take pictures of pro heroes out and about. They didn’t want to risk little Toshi getting into that kind of thing. But, sometimes Katsuki would take him to the park to play, and that sort of briefing was necessary to avoid unwanted attention. With the event at the daycare and its preparations, they made sure to remind him recently.

In the comfort of their own home, Katsuki was “Uncle Kacchan”. Out in public, like this, he was “Dynamight”. In Katsuki’s heart, he wished he was “Papa”.

Some of the parents, including Deku, were already in the next room with Mirio. They were in the middle of discussing that the room could be for the children to change into costumes when Toshi came bounding inside and started rattling trivia about the room and not the room at the same time.

“This is the room where we like to take naps! I like to nap at that corner over there! Or sometimes right here! When we nap, Ms. Chika closes the curtains so it’s nice and dark but not too dark because some of my friends are scared of the dark. I’m not, though! I like napping with the elephant pillow over there.”

“Toshi,” Deku reprimanded. “The adults are trying to talk, okay, sweetie?”

“Hi, Mama!” Toshi bounded over to his dam’s arms as if he didn’t see him ten minutes ago. Deku accepted his hug and kissed him anyway. His heart tugged, wanting so bad to go and hug them, too.

“Okay, okay, now go play with your friends, okay?”

“I wanna stay with Dynamight.”

“No—”

“It’s fine.” Katsuki picked Toshi up and held him to his side, much to his son’s delight. Katsuki mimed zipping his mouth, then Toshi gasped and did the same, nodding quietly. He earned a pat on the head, and a few moms cooed.

“Oh, you’re so good with children, Dynamight!” One of them said.

Katsuki cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he said curtly. The other pro heroes finally poked their heads in, along with a dozen brats behind their heels.

"Oops!" Mirio said. "Sorry, kids, but would you mind playing in the hall for a few more minutes?"

The pups whined a loud chorus of "no fair!" and "wanna play!", some even stomping their feet. Some moms shushed their rowdy kids, but they weren't having it.

"If you all play nice, we'll get an ice cream man for the event, how 'bout that?"

Now, that was better. They visibly brightened, though some were more reluctant, and they all started to move away from the door. That was until one of them squinted and pointed a finger at Toshi, who was still on Katsuki's hip.

"Hey, no fair, Toshi gets to keep playing!" He shouted. The accusation attracted the other kids back to the door, staring at Toshi, and they muttered their own agreement.

Toshi was not fucking happy about that. Toshi furrowed his brows in anger. "I'm not playing!" He defended.

"Liar!" The kid pointing his finger hissed. “Toshi’s a stupid liar!”

And Toshi hissed the fuck back and put up his middle finger.

Okay, this was new, totally new, and Katsuki was honestly at a loss between breaking up the puppy fight or cheering his pup on. What was he supposed to do? Was it bad conduct to grin and fistbump his kid at this moment? Well, yeah, probably — but he was proud! And that kid was being a dick!

Thankfully, Ms. Uchida was the one to make the adult decision of breaking it up. "Cameron, we don't shout at our friends," she said. Katsuki remembered that she used to have a gentle, motherly voice when he and Deku were in her care in their preschool days, but now well into her forties, she had a more firm tone that got the brats to listen. "If you're upset, then talk nicely. Good Alphas shouldn't yell and be scary to get what they want."

Upon closer inspection, Katsuki finally noticed the pup's stronger scent and bigger fangs, and he noticed how the other kids naturally rallied behind him, indicating he was definitely a pack leader. Hm. That brought back some memories for him.

The kid, Cameron — whose name was somehow familiar to Katsuki — pouted and glared at Toshi, who glared right back, but he eventually muttered a sulky, "Okay." 

Katsuki was about to smirk when Ms. Uchida turned to him and his son. "And Toshi, who taught you that hand sign?"

Uh-oh.

Katsuki instinctively wrapped his hand on Toshi's, who still had his middle finger slightly up, and put it down to his pup's lap. He cleared his throat, but before he could come up with something to say, Toshi beat him to it. "He was being mean to me," he said simply.

"I know, honey," Ms. Uchida said, the old gentleness coming in. "But that's still a bad hand sign. Children shouldn't do that."

Toshi ducked his head. His curls obscured Katsuki's view of his face, but Katsuki could tell from the bitterness of his scent that his pup wasn't feeling the high anymore. Katsuki frowned, wanting so badly to comfort him at that moment, but knew he couldn't.

Not for the first time, he wished he could run dumb errands and be a father in peace .

Katsuki held back a jump when Deku suddenly came in front of him — he could smell his shampoo, he could smell rain in the summer, he hadn't seen him for a day and half and he missed him — and scooped up Toshi from his arms.

"I'm so sorry about that, Ms. Uchida. Everyone." Deku bowed, his face pinched tight, his mouth a straight line on his face. "Toshi. Apologize."

Toshi remained quiet. The kids at the door stared at him expectantly. The pro heroes looked at their nails, the floor, the ceiling, at anywhere but the fucking drama in the room — awkward.

"Toshi," Deku said warningly.

"M'sorry," he finally muttered.

Deku put him down and patted his curls, but Toshi wasn't keen on sticking around anymore. He dragged himself out of the room, shouldering past Cameron and the rest of the kids, pointedly ignoring their gaze. Eventually, they, too, dispersed. 

Katsuki frowned at the doorway. By no means was this the first time Toshi was disciplined, and Katsuki wasn't one to let rotten behavior slide either so he himself was no stranger to Toshi's disciplining, but this was still new. For starters, he never saw Toshi being disciplined so publicly, and he never saw Toshi having to make himself so small under so many eyes.

He knew that Ms. Uchida and Deku weren't wrong for reprimanding him, but Katsuki couldn't help but want to console his pup. He had only tried to stand up for himself.

A cough pulled him out of his head. "I'm very sorry for that," Deku said, his head ducked. "Can we please continue with what we were discussing?"

That seemed to do the trick, or more realistically he'd just given the poor pro heroes and other parents a chance to move on from whatever had happened and stop staring at invisible dust on the ground. The next few minutes were them wrapping things up and summarizing what room would be what and what decorations would work. Again, Katsuki didn't give a shit about these types of tedious planning so he zoned out for most of it; he was too busy trying to formulate a plan to cheer Toshi up somehow.

The adults disbanded, but some parents managed to sink their metaphorical claws in the pro heroes and hold them in a metaphorical chokehold of a conversation.

Including Katsuki. Fuck.

"Thank you again for coming all the way here, Dynamight!" Chihiro chirped. Ugh. "You must be thirsty! I brought some homemade tea for you."

" Only me?" He questioned, unimpressed. "You realize I'm not the only one here, right?"

Chihiro laughed and handed him the thermos anyway, like she hadn't heard a word Katsuki just said. Bitch. "Don't worry about the thermos! You can give it back to me when we next see each other, okay?"

"Pass."

"Ah, but—"

Katsuki handed the thermos back and walked away. Where was Toshi? Where was Deku?

Chihiro fell into step with him. Jesus Christ.

"I'm sorry, I guess I was too bold with that," she was saying. "I get too overexcited, you have to forgive me. So, I see you've met my nephew, Cameron."

It finally clicked in his head. "Holy f— He was your nephew?" He asked, incredulous. "He's—" An asshole. He yelled at my kid. I wanna punt his stupid face. And yours. But he decided not to voice any of that anger, even though he really, really wanted to.

Character development right there. Amazing what a daycare setting with children running around could do for you.

"Yup!" Chihiro said proudly, oblivious — or purposefully obtuse. "He's only five years old but already presented as an Alpha! Last year, actually. It's so impressive."

"Not really," Katsuki grumbled. "I presented at four, too."

"Oh, really? Wow! Most kids present at six!"

"I wasn't like most kids."

Chihiro giggled, smiling fondly. She said, "And you're not like most adults, now, too."

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the cheap flattery. He continued walking until he was at the main lobby, but no sign of Deku or Toshi. He went back down the hall again, thinking they might be in the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh my God, leave me the fuck alone," was what he wanted to say. "Oh my God, leave me alone," was what he ended up saying, because there were still kids back here.

"Are you looking for that pup Toshi?" She asked.

Katsuki stopped and stared at her. Chihiro was still smiling. A deep line formed between his brows; she was smiling but the tone she used was weird as fuck. She sounded a lot less cheery and more… cryptic. Or something. What the fuck.

"Little Cameron was definitely out of line for shouting like that," she was saying, her carefree voice back like a flip of a switch. Katsuki blinked. "And I apologize on his behalf. He was just frustrated to see someone get special treatment."

"He was not getting special treatment," Katsuki growled. He could feel his fangs poking at his lower lips, but he restrained himself from baring his teeth. He took a breath, swallowed, then spoke again. "He showed me inside the room and I picked him up. It was no big deal."

"Oh, so it was just a misunderstanding. I get it." Chihiro sighed. "But wow, I was so shocked to see Toshi—" She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him. "—flip the bird like that. Really shows how he was brought up, y'know?"

Katsuki's hackles stood at her implication. "He was brought up just fine ," he spat. Then, he paused and said, "I'm sure he was. If anything, it's my fault — My PR is always up my ass about me being a terrible influence on children. He probably copied me from TV or something."

Chihiro gave a small smile, patting his arm. "Dynamight, you really shouldn't blame yourself. It's sweet of you to feel responsible, but a child's behavior is still the parents' responsibility. I mean, my Cameron watches you all the time but thankfully he doesn't do any of that. I think it's really just an issue with the individual household."

Don't hit a civilian, don't hit a civilian, don't hit a civilian.

Katsuki balled his fists at his sides, but he didn't let any emotion show on his face. This bitch was clearly playing a game here, and whatever it was, Katsuki had to be careful not to be checkmated.

"Maybe so," he said, cracking a smile that resembled chivalry. "I appreciate you not assuming that this is all on me. But I'd appreciate it if you didn't assume it's somehow his parents' fault, either. We don't know them, after all."

At this, Chihiro snorted, which threw him off. A second later, she gasped, as if realizing her behavior. "Oh! I apologize, Dynamight, I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that I— well, we , as in the parents— we know Midoriya is, y'know, very young. If you understand."

Katsuki stuffed his hands in his pockets to restrain himself from blowing something, or someone, up.

"My old hag had me at a young age, too," he said, shrugging to feign nonchalance when in reality he was dangerously close to blowing a vein in his head. "Don't see the point of bringing up age and shit. He clearly loves his kid."

"Oh, goodness, we don't doubt that at all! It's just, you know." She paused and looked to the side, a faraway look in her eyes. Eventually she sighed and smiled sadly. "The poor pup. It must be so hard to be brought up in such circumstances. That's all."

Dead silence.

Chihiro looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Oh, Dynamight," she said. "I can smell you being angry. Did I say something wrong?"

Katsuki was breathing heavily. His tongue suddenly felt too big in his mouth — probably because his fangs were protruding and taking up more space, sore with the need to bite and pin down the threat. At Chihiro's question, Katsuki caught himself, forced his next breath to be a calming one. He swallowed the venom dripping from his teeth. He willed his body to relax.

He made a mental note to wear stronger scent patches the next time he has to see this bitch.

"You're a bitch," he said out loud.

Chihiro balked. "What!?"

"Like I said, you'd better stop making these wild fucking assumptions about other people." He rolled his head in an act of stretching his neck, but he was really just masking his pinched expression as one of joint discomfort rather than one of homicide.

"Y''know what, fuck this. I'm leaving." And when he walked away this time, Chihiro finally left him alone.

He couldn't search for Deku and Toshi now, but he figured he could see them again soon. It was Thursday, and he wasn't scheduled to come over until Saturday, but fuck it. He could call Deku and ask if he could come over tonight.

Speaking of which, it was getting dark out. Most of the parents were gone. Mirio was talking to Ms. Uchida — she had some keys in her hands, which meant she was waiting for their asses to get out so she could lock up. His pack was on the sidewalk, and when they spotted him, they waved him over. No sign of Deku and Toshi.

"Have you guys seen…?" Katsuki left the name hang in the air. Ever since he'd told his pack about Deku and Toshi, they'd left Katsuki to have more private space when they had to meet up with the daycare event committee. But Katsuki knew their nosy pricks watched them like a hawk.

"I was just about to tell you," Kirishima said, face pinched in a wince. Fuck. "Uhh. I think the little dude wasn't having a great time with the other kids, so he and his mom left almost immediately."

" What ?" Katsuki spat. "What do you mean?"

"I saw a few kids picking on him in the lobby," Ashido said sadly. "Kiri and I were the ones who broke it up, but before we could talk to Toshi, he just bolted to his mom, and they left."

Katsuki raked his hand through his hair, cursing. "That dumb fucking bitch held me up," he muttered, half to himself. " Fuck , I should've— I should've been there."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, man." Kirishima patted his shoulder, but the disappointment and anger still brewed under his touch.

"Why were the brats picking on him?" He asked. "Was it about what happened in the room earlier?"

His friends nodded, expressions mixed, ranging from pity to more pity.

Katsuki turned and unlocked his car.

His pack didn't need to be told where he was going. Kaminari was the one to tell him, "Drive safe! Tell them we said hello!"

To which Katsuki replied, "Fat fucking chance!" And he sped off.

Even though they left first, he got there before Deku and Toshi were home — yes, he did not drive safely, but that was besides the point. He sat on the steps, waiting, a cap pulled down low enough to hide his face. He only waited about two minutes before a taxi finally pulled up.

Toshi was in Deku's arms, his face buried in his dam's neck.

Deku froze when he saw him. "Baku—" He blinked; one second he was a deer in the headlights, but the next second, realization snapped him back into focus. Deku's mouth pulled into a straight line as they both jogged to meet in the middle.

"He's still upset," Deku told him as he transferred Toshi to Katsuki's arms. He was asleep, but barely; he had a deep line between his brows and a scowl. He smelled like mold growing after a terrible storm.

Katsuki's heart broke. He patted his son's curls away from his forehead, gently running his thumb over the furrow in his brow. "I'm so sorry, buddy," he murmured. He kissed his temple and held him tighter against his chest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

Deku's hands touched him — Katsuki. One hand was on his bicep, while one hand was on their son's curls, their fingers brushing each other in the mess of green. Katsuki looked from his son to his ex, heart knocking on his ribcage, asking permission to go to him.

Katsuki took a breath and willed his heart to go back inside. Their son was in his arms; he needed them right now.

Deku opened the door. "You can put him in his room," he said.

"No," Katsuki said. "I'm holding him for a while."

To his surprise, Deku just sighed and said, not unkindly, "Yeah, I knew you'd say that. I'll make tea, then."

Deku worked in the kitchen, quietly clinking glasses and bubbling water. Katsuki, who was in the living room, stared at him while he worked.

Then, a very jarring and unhelpful thought hit him — they were pretty fucking domestic right now. Both of them coming home after a long day of work. Him rocking his son in the living room. His mate making tea for them all to wind down. The house smelling of jasmine, rain, and comfort. After this, they could kiss and cuddle and watch TV, tuck their son to bed, kiss more in their bedroom, and wake up to each other and do it all over again.

Katsuki looked down at Toshi, his fingertips running over the faint freckles on his cheeks. Over his temple where his dark curls were just a little shorter. He heard the mother of this child, his sweet, sweet child, pour tea in cups. And he wished he could go home to this every day. To this house. To them.

Deku put a tray with three cups on the coffee table. A stray curl fell over his cheek, and before Katsuki could be stupid and brush it back over his ear, Deku did it first.

Katsuki looked away, smoothing his sweaty palm over his jeans.

Jarring. Unhelpful. He needed to get it together.

"Thank you," Katsuki whispered.

Deku hummed, his eyes going around Katsuki's gaze to land immediately on Toshi. His fingers brushed his curls back once.

"Is it bad I wanna sock a shitty kid in the teeth right now?"

Katsuki's eyes widened, but he snorted anyway. "Nah," he said. "I want to, too."

It was Deku's turn to snort. "Wow, some hero you are," he teased.

"You're not the first one to say I'm a terrible influence." He flashed a lopsided grin, but it slipped quickly. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I keep telling him not to copy me, but it was dumb of me to think a five-year-old would listen."

Deku paused, then brushed another curl on Toshi's head. "He's your son," he suddenly said. "So, it's not your fault. I knew he'd do that kind of thing eventually."

Katsuki was so slow to process what the fuck his ex had just said that he only managed a mangled, "Hah?"

It was Deku's turn to look at him, confused. "What?" He asked. "He is your son." Then, he added with a heatless glare, "And don't fucking try to make a joke about that."

When Katsuki still couldn't come up with a response, Deku exhaled loudly through his nose, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Your PR is right, you're a terrible influence on children," Deku started. "But I know you can't, and won't, change that part of you — the part of you that's brash and honest and speaks however he wants because he has a mouth and he'd damn well use it. I know that."

Deku gestured to the tray on the table. "The tea will get cold."

Katsuki hummed, not giving a shit.

After a breath, Deku continued. "I'm not mad at him for flipping someone off," he said simply. His next words weren't as simple. "He was just trying to defend himself. How could I ever be mad at him for that?"

When Katsuki looked at Deku, he was suddenly his lover again, fourteen years old, in his middle school uniform, soaking wet after being pushed into the koi pond.

“So, don’t apologize, Bakugou,” he said. “I’m actually really glad he got that from you. I’m glad he’s more like you, on that front.”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki choked, fourteen years old, hands smoking from scaring off his lover’s bullies, but achieving nothing — failing to protect him, no matter what he did. “You were plenty capable, Deku. You still are.”

Deku endured so much bullshit growing up. Five years old and being pushed around for not having a Quirk. Ten and getting sent to the nurse’s office to get scent patches because the teachers couldn’t stand his Omegan scent, telling him that he was “distracting”. Fourteen and fending off a group of stupid teenagers who only knew that weak people needed to be buried in the dirt. Fifteen and pregnant and mending a broken heart.

Deku huffed a dry, humorless laugh. Katsuki watched as his fourteen-year-old face slowly lost its baby fat, its blush, his eyes slowly lost its light — and Deku was twenty years old again. Having endured too much. Sitting on the floor with his shoulder on against the couch, close enough for Katsuki to touch but too far to hold. 

And Katsuki was twenty years old again, too, lost and alone, not knowing what to say.

“We should wake him.”

“Deku.”

“What.”

“I’m not mad at him either for standing up for himself,” Katsuki said. “He’s a good kid.”

For a miniscule second, Deku’s lips tugged into a half-smile. “Yeah,” Deku whispered. “He really is.”

“We should tell him that. When he wakes up.”

“Bakugou.”

“What.”

“Your tea is cold.”

Katsuki took it, and yup, it was cold. But, it still tasted good. He watched as Deku took a sip of his own. They sat in silence, their son sleeping soundly. The sun had set, and the world was dark outside. It should be chilly out now, and it would be nice to sit outside and feel the breeze. He remembered the days when he and Deku would play until dark just around the neighborhood, when he and Deku walked home together after a date. How the wind blew through his hair and gave him goosebumps, and his Deku was cold, and he’d yell at him for forgetting his jacket but gave him his to wear anyway.

But, Katsuki found that he was content to just sit there in the living room with him and their pup. He didn’t need the breeze or the night sky or the world. He was content to just sit there, wait for his pup to wake up, and drink cold tea with his ex. The world outside could wait. It could be without them for a night.

Chapter Text

When Katsuki came through the front door, he threw his backpack and ran upstairs to his room without so much as a hello.

“Oi!” Bakugou Mitsuki shouted from the living room, snapping her book shut. “Brat! The fuck is all that noise?”

Katsuki slammed his bedroom door shut. He threw himself on his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Less than a minute later, his sire came in.

“Katsuki, what the hell?” She questioned, huffing. “You fucking dare come in my house without kissing me hello? What the fuck is the matter with you, ungrateful brat?”

Katsuki curled tighter around his pillow, silent.

A beat passed. “Baby?” She asked, voice much softer. “Hey. What’s the matter?”

Katsuki held it in, but a traitorous sob escaped his mouth anyway.

He felt the bed dip as his sire sat down, a hesitant hand on his shaking shoulder. “Oh, Katsuki,” she cooed. She must’ve finally smelled the anxiety and rejection from him. “Baby, what happened?”

“S-Stupid Deku,” he stuttered against his pillow. He sniffled, the embarrassing sound making him hide deeper. 

“What about Izuku?” She asked. “Did you have a fight?”

His racking sobs confirmed it.

Mitsuki sighed, rubbing her son’s arm up and down. “Wanna tell Ma what happened?” She coaxed. “I can help.”

Katsuki sniffed one last time before sitting up, back against the wall, punching and gripping the pillow between his folded legs. He was just eight years old but his claws were already growing out, and growing out sharp. Mitsuki clicked her tongue and pried his nails off the pillow case, which already had claw marks down one side of it. She was going to have to get a new one — again. The brat could hold off scratching his All Might sheets and blankets but not the non-All Might ones. Ugh.

But her baby was hurting, so she let it slip.

“Stupid Deku got mad at me for no damn reason,” he grumbled, tears still falling from his lashes. He hiccuped and wiped them away with his arm, but new ones sprang up. “I-I don’t get it. He’s so stupid. I hate him.”

“You don’t hate him, Katsuki,” Mitsuki chided.

“I do!” He insisted. “His face is stupid! He makes no sense!”

“Why doesn’t he make sense?”

“Because—!” Katsuki roared, but it tapered into wails and more tears. Katsuki cried freely now, kicking his legs, filling the room with the scent of smoke so potent that Mitsuki coughed and opened the window.

“Okay, okay, baby,” Mitsuki shushed, scooping the little one up in her arms. She sat on the bed again with him on her lap. She chuffed and rocked him, holding him through it. “Ma’s here, baby, it’s okay.”

“I-It’s s-stupid Deku’s f-fault,” Katsuki said between hiccups. “H-H-He got mad w-when I was j-j-just jo-joking. H-He left and d-didn’t wanna take the d-doll and c-c-called me a m-meanie.”

Mitsuki had to strain her ears to make out what he was trying to say, but she got the gist of it. “He didn’t like the present you got him?” She half-said, half-guessed.

“No!” He wailed. “H-He just left it a-and didn’t c-come back!”

“Okay,” Mitsuki said slowly. “Do you know why he didn’t take it?”

“Because he’s s-stupid!”

Mitsuki sighed. “No, Katsuki,” she corrected. “Stop saying he’s stupid. Come on, bud, think. What happened before he got mad at you?”

Katsuki whined, still crying his little heart out. Mitsuki sighed again, but stayed with him. She patted his hair back from his sweaty forehead. He definitely needed a bath after this.

“Katsuki,” she prompted after a minute.

“I-I was riding my bike,” he said. At least he was calmer now. Still wiping his tears, but not full-on bawling anymore. “He came and I wanted to show him a trick. It’s this trick where you turn real fast on the bike and dust goes up. Like a ninja disappearing into smoke kinda thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I told him to stay put. I just wanted to surprise him with the dust because it would be funny.” Katsuki paused. He lowered his head, the petulant poet slipping a little. “I got dirt on him. Just a little bit! It… It just went to his shoes, and his shirt.” He paused again. When he spoke next, it was quieter. “And a little in his hair. And face.” Then, like a heartbeat monitor, he spoke louder. “But it wasn’t that serious! It was supposed to be funny! He wasn’t hurt or anything! And I did a cool trick! He always tells me to do cool tricks.”

Mitsuki hummed. Inwardly, she winced. She sure hoped Inko wasn’t too horrified to find her birthday boy caked in dirt. She would have to come by and apologize, if this piece of shit didn’t do it first.

“Then what?” Mitsuki prompted again.

“I felt bad and gave him the gift.” Again, his voice got quieter. “He didn’t want it and he left. He didn’t wanna listen when I told him to come back.” He huffed. “Stupid,” he muttered.

“Stop saying Izuku’s stupid, Katsuki,” Mitsuki warned. Katsuki folded his arms, but didn’t talk back. “Oi, brat, you throw a fucking fit when someone just touches your hair without your permission. Wouldn’t you be really mad if someone got you dirty?”

Katsuki didn’t answer. But, she felt his shoulders droop. The angry inferno turned into a little fire on the stove — burning but at least somewhat contained now.

“Katsuki, answer Ma.”

He huffed, then shrugged his shoulders. “I guess,” he murmured.

“That’s fucking right. How do you think Izuku feels after you got him dirty and didn’t say sorry?”

“I gave him the present!” He protested. 

“That’s not how you apologize, brat.”

“That’s so stupid. It’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” Mitsuki said. “Saying sorry means that you show you really care. Saying sorry means you own up to your mistake. Shoving a present just to make him stop crying isn’t saying sorry.” When her brat didn’t say anything, she continued, “Besides, you being angry right now means that you don’t really feel sorry.”

“I feel sorry!” Katsuki retorted quickly. “I do! I didn’t mean to get him dirty! I just wanted to play! It was supposed to be funny!”

“Well, Izuku didn’t find it funny, now, did he?”

Katsuki paused. He eventually hummed, both agreeing and annoyed. “He’s still mad at me,” he muttered. “He makes me angry because I tried to give him the present but he’s still mad at me.”

“Well,” Mitsuki started. “He has the right to be mad at you, sport. You did something bad to him, so of course he’s mad.”

“But I gave him the—”

“The present, I know, I know. You still didn’t say sorry properly, Katsuki. You didn’t own up to your mistake.”

“He’s a crybaby.”

“And you’re a little brat,” Mitsuki shot back. He growled at that, but Mitsuki clicked her tongue sharply, warning him to cut it out. He backed down with a pout. “You know, even if you apologized, Izuku still has the right to be a little sour with you.”

“What!? So he’s mad at me if I apologize and if I don’t!? That’s not fair!”

“That’s how feelings are, kid.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Well…” Mitsuki thought for a second. “Remember when I put your old All Might bed sheet in the laundry and it came out all pink and stained?”

“... Uh-huh.”

“And you didn’t wanna talk to me for a couple of days because you were so mad at me? Even after I said sorry and gave you kisses?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s like that,” Mitsuki said. “You eventually forgave me. But it took awhile, even though I said sorry and all that. You were just angry and you needed to find time to get through being angry, right?”

Katsuki went silent, but he looked like he was seriously contemplating what she said, so she let him stew in it.

“Feelings are like that, sweetie. They’re just a little complicated. But, you’ll figure it out. You and Izuku are best friends. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.”

It took a minute, but Katsuki eventually nodded. “But I have to say sorry first?” He ventured.

“Yup.” Mitsuki gave his head a kiss, sweaty hair and all. “Why don’t we get you in the bath and we’ll go over to his house after that? How does that sound?”

“... Okay.”

“Good. You can try giving him the doll again. If he’s still angry, that’s okay. You can hold on to it until he feels better enough to take it.”

“But when will that be?”

“Hm. Who knows, sweetie. The important thing isn’t the doll, though. It’s you apologizing first.” Katsuki scooted over the bed and stood up, waiting for his sire. His scent wasn’t so volatile anymore; it was just a gentle bonfire now, crackling in the wind. The flames were a little smaller than usual, like he wasn’t so sure of himself.

Mitsuki sighed, a smile tugging her lips. Her little man could bark all he wanted, but she knew he was a good pup. He was just a little confused about feelings, is all. Who wasn’t, anyway?

Mitsuki closed the window. “Anyway, chop-chop and get in the bath. You fucking stink.”

The first thing Toshi said when he woke up that evening was, "I'm kinda hungry."

The second thing Toshi said was, "I don't wanna go to that stupid daycare anymore."

Katsuki and Deku instinctively stared at each other, grimacing. Here we go, they seemed to say through parent telepathy.

"Oh, Toshi," Deku started. "You still have to, sweetheart."

Toshi curled up into a ball and fell sideways on the couch, rolled over and hid his face on the backrest. "No," he whined, voice muffled.

"Toshi."

"I said no !" He screamed, legs kicking when Deku put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't wanna, don't wanna!"

"Oi!" Katsuki barked. "Brat, being upset is one thing, and kicking your mom is a whole 'nother thing! Quit it."

A loud whine came out of his throat before he gave one more petulant kick, his leg finally falling still on the couch. Toshi mumbled something.

"Hah?" Katsuki said.

"I said you're not the boss of me," Toshi spat.

Shock snapped his eyes wide. He turned his gaze to Deku, who was looking at their son like he'd just grown a second head, then at Katsuki. They held eye contact for a split second before Deku hauled Toshi upright by his shoulders so they could face each other, but Toshi struggled and refused to look at him. "Toshi!" Deku scolded. "Toshi, you don't talk like that to Uncle Kacchan!"

"Noo, let go!"

"Toshi, I mean it! Look at Mama and say sorry!"

Toshi's blunt nails clawed at one of Deku's hands, trying to pry it off, but Deku just adjusted his grip on him, still trying to get the pup to face him. "Maaa—"

"Ow, ow— Toshi, baby, just look at me so we can talk properly—"

"No! Fuck you, Mama!"

" MIDORIYA TOSHI ."

Toshi jumped, body going still in his dam's hold, face shifting instantly from angry to scared. Even Deku flinched a little, whipping his head at Katsuki who'd just used his Alpha voice.

Katsuki's fangs were bared in a furious snarl. A deep, ominous rumble came from his chest, like the first second of a catastrophic earthquake, pebbles vibrating on the pavement before ceilings collapsed overhead. The tectonic plates shifted below his feet when Katsuki stalked forward and kneeled in front of Toshi, who was still staring at him wide-eyed and silent, shivering a little. Deku's grip slackened from his shoulders, but Toshi wasn't going anywhere. Katsuki made sure to pin him down with his glare.

"You never ," Katsuki whispered, the words loud in the small living room. "Ever fucking say that to your mother. Ever. Do you fucking understand me, Toshi?"

Toshi kept staring at him, and it seemed like that was all he could do for a few seconds until he quietly piped up, "You say it to people all the time…"

" Never to my dam," Katsuki said firmly. "Never with such fucking contempt and attitude. Never to fucking hurt him. My sire woulda smacked the mouth right off my fucking face."

And Mitsuki damn well did, the first and last time Katsuki shouted and shoved his dam during an argument when he was twelve. Something about getting into a fight at school and getting his game console confiscated. He'd been so mad that he forgot who the fuck he was talking to, of the discipline that his sire had drilled into him about respecting his dam no matter what — he could shout and argue with her all he wanted but Masaru was off limits. He'd let his anger take over, and Mitsku had slapped him so hard across the face he genuinely couldn't speak for a full half hour from shock alone; she'd never hit him so hard in his life. That was the first and last time.

And somehow, here he was again. Just eight years later, slipping into Mitsuki's shoes as he glared at his own little gremlin. Those eyes were physical carbon copies of his and Mitsuki's, but the shine in them wasn't of fight and revolt — they were unshed tears. The air suddenly smelled like rain.

"U-Un-Uncle K-Kacchaan," Toshi hiccuped. "Are you gonna s-smack me, t-too?"

In an instant, even without looking straight at him, Deku tensed and bared his teeth, but Katsuki replied, "No, I'm not." He continued, "Because that was my sire and me. Now, it's me and you. I'm just as pissed as she was when I did it. But, I'm not smacking you."

The first, second, and third drops of tears fell from his eyes. "But you're still mad at me," he said, tone between a question and a whine.

Either one, Katsuki confirmed it. "I'm fucking mad at you, yes," he said.

Toshi sniffled. Then, a second later, he was full-on crying, wailing his little heart out. He didn't kick, didn't scratch; just sat there with his hands to his eyes and cried, cried, cried.

Katsuki stared at him, the fur on his Alpha's back relaxing, his teeth retracting. Katsuki just stared, not touching his son, just letting him ride it out, even though his own heart was breaking in two now. Pissed off or not, Toshi's crying still hit something in his chest. The sounds abated his anger, and Katsuki sighed quietly as he fell back from his kneeling position to sit on the floor in front of Toshi. 

Deku sat on the couch, close to Toshi but also not touching him. He had one arm propped on the back of the couch, right behind the crying pup, looking like he himself was gonna cry any second. But, he wiped the moisture in his eyes quickly with the heel of his palm, and he rested his cheek on it as he, too, stared quietly, letting the emotions go through the room.

When a minute passed and the sobs didn't stop, Katsuki scooted forward just enough to whisper to Toshi, "I'm going to cook dinner for you. You can keep sitting here, or you can sit at the dining table to be a little closer." Katsuki paused so the words could sink into him. "Do you wanna sit at the dining table?"

Toshi was still crying, but not as loudly anymore. He hiccuped a few times, not saying anything yet, and Katsuki waited on the floor patiently. Eventually, Toshi nodded.

"Okay. Up you go, then," Katsuki said, standing up himself. "I'm gonna go cook you dinner."

Toshi slid off the couch and walked to the table, Deku close behind. When he sat, he folded his arms and buried his face in them. Katsuki cooked katsudon for two and a half people. He let himself go on autopilot, just letting the adrenaline and the frustration work through the tedious and repetitive motions until he didn't feel them anymore. When he chopped the vegetables, his mind went blank. When he fried the pork cutlets, he looked back and saw his ex hunched over his own folded arms, face serene and turned to their son. Toshi still had his hidden. When he was done, he washed his hands and placed the bowls on the table.

Katsuki sat with a heavy sigh. The table was small, square, only fitting four people. None of them moved to eat yet. They just waited.

Finally, Toshi raised his head. His face was flushed, eyes puffy, nose red and wet with snot.

"Are you done?" Katsuki asked.

Toshi nodded wordlessly.

"Okay." Katsuki took tissues from the center of the table and squeezed Toshi's nose with it. "Blow." Toshi gave a mighty blow, and Katsuki wiped it off, put the dirty tissues aside, then repeated it. When his nose was clean, he wiped his eyes and cheek.

"Get up and wash your hands and face with Uncle Kacchan."

"Okay."

Toshi stepped onto the stool in front of the sink to do as he was told. After Katsuki washed his own hands, he grabbed a paper towel and wiped the water droplets from his pup's face and hands.

"Do you know what you did?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I said a mean thing to Mama," he murmured, face downcast and fingers pulling at each other. "And to you."

Katsuki paused. "Are you sorry, Toshi?"

Toshi nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm sorry." He hiccuped, but no tears ran down. He peeked up at him from his dark curls. In a smaller, nervous voice, he said, "I'm sorry, Uncle Kacchan."

Katsuki squatted down and pulled Toshi into a hug. "Okay. Good boy," he sighed. His pup wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, nearly suffocating the fuck out of him, but he just kissed the side of his head and said, "Uncle Kacchan loves you, 'kay?"

"Okay."

"Do you still love me or not, brat?"

"Mm-hmm. I love Uncle Kacchan."

"That's fucking right." Katsuki gave him one last squeeze and let go. "Go apologize to your mom. This better be the last time I hear you say that shit to him, or I swear to god, Toshi."

Toshi took two hurried steps to the table before he stopped and turned around. "Wait. Do you mean the last time I say fu—" Katsuki glared. "—uuh, the, uh, f-word or I'm sorry to Mama?"

"The f-word," Katsuki clarified.

"Okay." He bounded over to Deku, who was waiting for him with his knees on the floor and his arms wide open. He crashed into his hug and buried his nose in his dam's neck. From Katsuki's place next to the sink, he could still smell Deku's pine and comfort scent.

Katsuki had never felt greedy for fucking breathing , but he took lungfuls and lungfuls of air and still didn't think it was enough. Deku's scent was never enough, these days.

When he got up and approached them, he could hear them murmuring to each other. He was close enough to hear Deku saying, "never to Uncle Kacchan, either, okay? Never."

Toshi nodded against Deku's neck.

Katsuki's heart fluttered.

"Alright, both of you eat," Katsuki commanded without any bite. "I'm not heating this shit up if it gets cold."

"Uncle Kacchan's food is good even when it's cold," Toshi said sincerely.

"Thanks, brat, but eat it while it's warm. It's better."

"Okay."

Mother, father, and son sat at the table and ate their dinner. After a minute, the mother got up and brought back three glasses of water. The son ate too fast and coughed. The father clicked his tongue and patted his tiny back. The son ate quickly anyway, muttering that it was delicious and amazing every few bites.

The father smiled. He brought his glass of water to his mouth, looked up, and saw the mother laughing.

"It really has been awhile," he said, green eyes looking at him, crinkled at the corners from his crooked grin. "Since I ate your cooking, Bakugou."

And just like that, the family portrait fell from its frame, cracked and shattered.

Katsuki blinked, and they were suddenly Katsuki, Deku, and Toshi again. The Alpha whose picture didn't exist in this house. The Omega who desperately arranged the photographs in the living room to make the house happier than it could be. The pup who had pictures of his father in his room but only ever knew them as posters of a pro hero.

Suddenly, the clinking of utensils rang in his ears. The katsudon he made suddenly tasted sour.

Right. He was no fucking father here. He was just Uncle Kacchan. He was just Bakugou. Right.

"Uncle Kacchan," Toshi said, pulling him out of the dark pit of his own thoughts. "Your food is really good."

"So you've said, kid." Katsuki put a spoonful of rice and pork in his mouth, even though he didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

"Yeah. Will you please sleep over, Uncle Kacchan?"

Katsuki fucking choked.

"Toshi—! B-Bakugou!?"

"Waahh, Uncle Kacchan's having a heart attack!"

"N-No, sweetie, he's just choking— OH MY GOD YOU'RE CHOKING!"

Katsuki coughed while simultaneously trying to tell them to calm the fuck down because there wasn't anything actually stuck in his throat, but before he could even make out any human words, he was suddenly hauled off his ass and embraced from behind.

It was Deku.

Huh.

"De—"

He felt a sharp pain in his abdomen.

Oh, wow, okay, no, he was actually being given a Heimlich maneuver right now.

"Fuck—" Katsuki struggled in the small Omega's hold. "DEKU, I'm fine! Stop!"

"Ah, it dislodged already!? That was quick."

"There wasn't anything to dislodge in the first place! And fucking ow ."

"Huh!?" Deku jumped away, face screwed up in shock and embarrassment. "I— I thought— I'm sorry! I thought you were choking!"

"I was a little bit, but it was nothing fucking serious. Just had some rice go down the wrong way."

"Uncle Kacchan, are you dying?" Toshi asked, teary eyed.

Katsuki coughed a little more, breathed deeply, and finally patted his head. "No, sport."

"Then," Toshi said, "You can stay, right?"

Katsuki grimaced. He glanced at his ex who was sitting across from him again, face red and turned away, mouth working a mile a minute in a panicked, quiet mutter.

Katsuki sighed and looked at Toshi again. "No, sport," he repeated. "Uncle can't stay."

Deku stopped muttering. Toshi whined. "You always can't stay," he grumbled, glaring at his food, pushing around the little grains of rice in his bowl. 

Katsuki sighed again before scratching lightly at the back of his pup's head, tugging the little curls. "It's a school night, remember?" He tried. "You still have preschool tomorrow morning."

"Sleep over tomorrow, then."

"Toshi," Deku reprimanded.

"I want Uncle Kacchan to cook all the time," Toshi said, pouting.

At this Deku, snorted. "Oooh, are you saying you don't like Mama's cooking anymore?"

"No!" Toshi quickly said, flustered. Katsuki and Deku snickered briefly before Toshi continued, "I just wish Uncle Kacchan could stay."

Deku's face fell. "Oh, Toshi…"

"I wish that, too, Toshi," Katsuki said. He met Deku's wide-eyed gaze. "I want to stay. Believe me."

"Then, why don't you?" Toshi asked.

Deku's mouth opened, closed, opened again but no words came. 

"It's complicated adult stuff, kiddo," Katsuki said finally, for the both of them. "You wouldn't understand."

Toshi sighed like he knew that that would be the answer. Katsuki could see he wanted to protest, but they'd been over this question enough times for him to eventually mutter a defeated, "Okay."

"How about we talk about the daycare instead, hm?" Katsuki supplied, and when he looked at his ex, the weird bubble of tension popped, and Deku snapped back into focus.

"Uhm." Deku cleared his throat, shaking his head lightly. "Right."

Toshi's pout deepened. "I don't wanna go," he said. "They were mean to me."

Toshi told them that Cameron had pushed him around and taunted him to do the hand sign again if he was so brave, even bringing in his friends to gang up on him. Cameron was bigger than Toshi since Cameron was an Alpha and Toshi hadn't presented yet. He hadn't known what to do and just stayed quiet through it all. Pinky and Red Riot came to break it up, and Toshi ran.

"Oh, honey," Deku whispered. He held Toshi's cheek and kissed the top of his head. He tried giving out a reassuring scent, but Katsuki could smell the sadness in it, salty and stinging like the ocean, like tears that had flowed for years.

Katsuki knew that all too well.

"I'm so sorry that happened, baby," Deku said against the little one's curls. "Toshi, listen to me. Mama and Uncle Kacchan aren't mad at you. Okay? We understand that you were just trying to stand up for yourself. We are so proud that you're a brave pup."

"Then, why did you tell me to say sorry to them?" Toshi questioned, bewildered.

Deku sighed and took a moment to answer. Katsuki didn't interject; he knew that this was something Deku had to say. Katsuki sat quietly, making his presence known just by sitting with them. He hesitated for a moment before giving out his scent of bonfires, a safe hearth for them to fall back to, to find a way back to the dining table after scavenging the past. Deku closed his eyes, and opened them again — Katsuki would like to think, to stupidly imagine, that Deku was taking lungfuls.

"I'm sorry," he started, hushed, like he was still staring at the past. Katsuki wondered who he was talking to — their son or his own self from years ago. "Oh, my love, I'm so sorry. It's just… you have to understand that it's still a bad hand sign for pups to do. Mama and Uncle Kacchan always tell you not to say bad words and do bad gestures, right? Because it's not okay for little ones to do it. So, Mama asked you to apologize for doing the bad hand sign.

"But, Mama understands why you felt angry, okay? Mama isn't angry that you got angry. Cameron was being mean, and he shouldn't have been. You stood up for yourself, and Mama i-is glad you did, baby. So glad."

At the last part, Deku's voice cracked, and Katsuki could see his green eyes drowning. His ex bent down and kissed their son's head again, stayed there while his eyes banked the waterfall, opened like he was looking at something far, far away.

"Toshi," Deku finally said, voice shaking to hold back a sob, but firm in its truth. "You apologized for doing a bad hand sign. But you didn't, and will never, apologize for standing up for yourself. Okay, baby? I know this is a bit hard to understand, but you need to know that those are two different things, okay? Mama will just teach you how to defend yourself properly so you won't have to apologize for anything at all next time.

"Mama is here. Mama will always be here by your side."

"Mama," Toshi said. His little hands reached up and touched his mother's face. "Mama, why are you crying?"

And Katsuki found himself reaching out, too, instinctively, even after all these years, trying to shield Deku from pain. Trying and failing, at every turn, because he was just one person fighting off ghosts, untouchable phantoms that took form as school teachers, classmates, strangers on the bus. The past years were even more complicated as the ghosts, almost exclusively, resembled Katsuki himself.

He dropped his hand to his lap. Gripped it with his other hand, dug his nails in to ensure it wouldn't go and embrace his ex lover, knowing that his touch would just inflict more pain.

A single sob racked Deku's body, and the waterfall cascaded down his freckles, gravity taking them down to drip to the floor, the weight of the world taking Deku's body down to hunch over their son and hold him tight.

"Mama? Mama? Mama, don't cry."

"I-I'm s-sorry," Izuku cried, "I'm so sorry, I'm so s-sorry…" 

Katsuki raked his hand through his hair, fighting back against the sting behind his own eyes. When Deku gently pulled the pup into his lap, rocking them, Katsuki almost couldn't tell them apart. For a moment, when the tears built in his eyes, he almost thought Deku was embracing his four-year-old self. Apologizing to himself. When he blinked and the tears and years finally fell, his vision cleared just enough to see how Toshi's hair was just a little thinner, a little less curly. 

Sniffing once, he shoved the pieces of his broken heart together, close enough to resemble something whole and working, and got up to refill Deku and Toshi's water. He placed them quietly in front of them on the table, slid the tissue box closer to them, and sat back down, present, distant.

It was Toshi who twisted around and took a tissue. He gently patted Deku's wet cheek with it, clumsy, determined. It got Deku to pause and huff a laugh. He breathed raggedly while their son kept wiping his face. After a while, the glass reflection in his eyes softened, no longer reflecting the past but watching the blur of the present. A small, barely-there, present smile pulled at his lips.

"Thank you, Toshi," he whispered. He took the tissue and wiped the remaining tears from his lashes. "I'm okay now, baby."

His eyes flicked to Katsuki, and Katsuki could tell that he forgot he was there for a split second. Suddenly self-conscious, Katsuki could only gesture lamely at the glasses of water, didn't find the movement satisfactory for his nerves, and pushed the water a millimeter closer to Deku. Deku paused, blinking, before he took the drink out of his own nerves.

After drinking, Deku cleared his throat. He took a deep breath to give himself more time before speaking.

“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Mama,” Toshi said.

Deku opened his mouth to speak, paused, looked like he was going to cry all over again, and composed himself. Deku kissed the top of Toshi’s head, nodding, laughing a little. “Mama’s little puppy is so smart,” he murmured, almost to himself. Katsuki’s own mouth tugged into a small half-smile.

“Toshi, what Mama is sorry for is that you still need to go to that daycare.”

A whine just started to build in Toshi’s throat, but Katsuki nipped that shit quick with a growl. “Let him finish talking, brat,” he ordered. Toshi tensed, then deflated with a meek nod. At the same time, Deku’s eyes flicked to Katsuki, surprised at the sound of his voice — he really did seem to forget that Katsuki was there.

It was Katsuki’s turn to tense, wondering if he should’ve just stayed quiet until the end, if he’d fucked up, but then the surprise in Deku’s eyes ebbed away, replaced with a softness that Katsuki couldn’t identify. Katsuki blinked, and Deku smiled at him — quick, tiny, amused.

Katsuki’s heart thumped against his ribs clumsily, like a drunk bastard bumping into a wall, trying to get home to its love.

“As I was saying,” Deku continued. “Mama needs to work, you know that. After preschool, you need to hangout at the daycare so nice adults can take care of you while I do that. It’s the only daycare that’s close enough for us, baby.” He paused. “Can you understand that, Toshi?”

Toshi was pouting, but he still said, “Yeah. I can.”

“Good. But, tell you what, I’ll talk to Ms. Uchida and the other staff members about the other kids, okay? I’ll tell them to keep an eye on you and take care of you. If Cameron bothers you again, you go straight to them, okay? You tell them exactly what happened. And then you tell Mama what happened, and what the adults did about it, too.”

Toshi contemplated this, the line between his brows smoothening out slowly. 

“You’re a tough puppy, Toshi,” Deku said. “And we can get through this. I’ll teach you how to handle it, okay?” Then, Deku raised his gaze to Katsuki — meeting his eyes, head-on. And it was Katsuki’s turn to be pinned down by nothing but a gaze, Katsuki’s turn to shiver. “We both will. Uncle Kacchan and I.”

His heart stumbled, fucking rolled over on the pavement a couple times, barely missed an oncoming truck, and got back up again just to hit its head on a lamppost.

Fuck.

“Uh—” Katsuki wheezed stupidly. “Uh-huh. Right.”

Was it getting hot in here or was Katsuki really having a heart attack from Deku’s eyes on him alone?

Well, it certainly wasn’t the worst way to go.

But, the night wasn’t over yet. When they eventually cleared the table and dried their eyes, Katsuki was still breathing. And it was time for him to go.

They tucked Toshi in bed. Toshi hugged him tightly, while Deku leaned against the door, watching. “Bye, Uncle Kacchan,” Toshi whispered against his neck. “I liked your food. I love you.”

“Bye, kiddo.” Katsuki scented him briefly, nuzzling his nose at the curls around his ear. “Love you, too.”

“Goodnight, my love,” Deku said, flipping the light and closing the door.

And then it was just them.

Deku was still holding the door handle, face downcast, like his body didn’t know what movement was next. Katsuki cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsure of his own body, of where it could move, or how close it was allowed to be to Deku. It was like the closer he was, the less his body felt like his own — like his body just wanted to be Deku’s, if that shit was possible or even remotely made sense.

Eventually, Deku turned his head, brought his eyes up but stopped at his collarbone. He opened his mouth, paused, then finally said, “I’ll take you to the door, then, Bakugou.”

That made sense, that was courteous. He had to leave, after all. But, Katsuki couldn’t help but feel disappointed. When they passed the living room, he saw the couch and immediately thought up five different ways he could sleep comfortably on it.

I want to stay. Believe me.

He stepped out into the night, the chill breeze dragging him back to the real world. He descended one step, and turned around. “I’m going now,” he said lamely. “Thanks,” he said, even more lamely.

But, Deku didn’t seem to mind, as he giggled softly. “Ah, no, thank you for cooking dinner,” Deku said, voice like wind chimes, moving with the wind, a beautiful sound in the midst of grasshoppers and swaying grass. 

Then, Deku raised his gaze more, and their eyes met.

And Katsuki’s heart was right there, right at the front steps. Right in front of his love. Finally home. 

And it had to be ripped away again. Stuffed in a pocket and gagged, not allowed to do more than look. And even looking was a mercy it greedily took for itself.

For the past five years, looking at Deku felt like a sin. Intoxicating. Hands itching to touch, to commit more atrocities. Bite into the forbidden apple, at the Omega’s scent gland, make him his.

It was a dangerous high. Katsuki had to avert his gaze while he still had a hand around his own leash.

Katsuki turned and descended two more steps.

Then, Deku blurted out, “Bakugou, I—”

Katsuki stopped and immediately faced him again, eyes wide, heart trashing in his hold.

Deku stared at him, his own eyes wide, like he himself was shocked that he’d called out to him. He floundered for a few seconds, searching for the words he’d accidentally dropped in his haste to open his mouth. Katsuki waited with bated breath.

“It’s…” Deku wrung his hands together. “It’s late. And, um… I just wanted to… If you…”

The snake of Eden was whispering in his ear. Exhaling a breath of pine, petrichor, confusion and longing. Katsuki was in a trance. 

I want to stay.

Let me stay.

He ascended one step, closer to his love. “Deku…” He murmured, hypnotized.

And Deku blinked, the mirage melting away. He gasped, gripped his elbows, and blurted out in a breath, “It’s late, and you— you should drive safe.”

The apple fell right before he could pick it. It hit the ground and rotted instantly. Katsuki blinked, and he was back at the front porch of Deku’s house. Where had his mind wandered off to?

Shaking his head, Katsuki huffed. “Right,” he muttered. He moved down the steps again.

But he was only a man. A greedy one. A fool who hoped.

“Deku,” he called. Deku tensed — he hadn’t moved from his spot. “What… What are you doing tomorrow?”

Deku blinked multiple times. “Uh,” he stammered. “W-Working…?”

“I mean after that.”

“I… I don’t… know? I’ll just be home with Toshi, I guess.” Deku took a breath. “Why?”

“I want to come over tomorrow,” Katsuki told him. Simple. Complicated. “I want to come home to this forever,” he almost said, but held himself back.

Deku’s shoulders went up a little. Katsuki could almost see his ears perking, the gears working in his head. He wondered if his heart stumbled the way his did.

Hah. Wishful thinking.

But he was a fool who hoped.

Katsuki laughed suddenly, more to himself. Fuck. He didn’t even know what was funny. He just knew that the day was so fucking strange. And yet, he wished the night would never end. He shrugged and said, “Remember what I said, Deku?”

Deku stared at him.

“I’m gonna keep fucking trying,” he said. “The flowers were a bust. I wanna try something else.” He hesitated. “Please.”

The wind stopped blowing, and the wind chimes of Deku’s voice stilled, too. It was as if the world had paused to hold its breath. When Katsuki exhaled, he held it, too. Too afraid to inhale and choke on his emotions. If he swallowed them, what part of his throat would they go down through? He’d made himself spit them out for so many years that he forgot if he was supposed to put them in his mouth like this to begin with. He forgot how to move his tongue around them, how to form words with them. Is this right? Is this how you do it?

It was funny now. It was funny how Katsuki loved this man so much but forgot how to do it anymore.

But goddamn, did he want to try again.

Goddamn did he want to stay trying.

Finally, after an eternity, Deku breathed out, shakily, unsure, and the breeze picked up again. Ruffled their hair. Made them shiver.

“You’re such a headache, Bakugou Katsuki,” Deku muttered under his breath. Katsuki thought he might’ve accidentally said that outloud; he snorted an amused laugh at it anyway. Deku echoed the sound, almost like a gasp for air. Deku shook his head, his mouth between a grin and a grimace. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve for a second, eyes far away again.

Katsuki wished he could come with him, wherever he went when he had that look on his face.

Deku didn’t leave him in the present for too long. Eventually, he sighed and raked his head through his hair. “I like red wine,” he suddenly said, shrugging one shoulder. Katsuki hurriedly took a mental note of it, imaginary pen and paper and all. “It’s… whatever. I just. I don’t. I don’t—” He threw up his hands and slapped them back down to his sides, rubbed his palms over his pants, then stuffed them in his pockets. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Katsuki waited all the same.

Deku eventually looked at him again. “Toshi loves it when you’re over,” he said. It sounded more like an alibi. Or maybe that was also his stupid wishful thinking. “But I just… I don’t know.” He paused. “Bakugou, this is already so complicated.”

“I’m aware,” Katsuki said. He pulled himself up a step, which made him level with Deku’s gaze. When Deku kept looking at him, he took another one up. His gaze was still on him. He took another step, up, closer, until Deku had to crane his neck, expose his throat. His freckles could’ve been visible, but Katsuki was towering over him now, his frame blocking out the light of the porch, casting the Omega in a somber shadow.

But his Omega’s eyes still twinkled. They seemed to cast their own light, brighter than any light bulb could. Brighter than the stars people wished upon.

That’s why when Katsuki foolishly wished, he wished upon these eyes instead. He wished that they could keep looking at him, keep watching him.

And Deku was fucking watching.

“Stepping up,” he whispered, lashes lowered, walls crumbling down. “Remember, shitty Deku?”

Deku exhaled shakily. He could taste his breath on his lips. He wanted to kiss him so fucking bad. He was so close — he could feel his body becoming not his own but Deku’s, Deku’s to push and pull and break apart. Breathe life to it the way Katsuki couldn’t on his own.

If only Deku wanted to.

Deku swayed a little, like the breeze had pushed him, or he was drawn to him — wishful thinking — but he righted himself. His mouth struggled on a tugging grin. “You’re insufferable,” he said, the words like a laugh. Then, his mouth paused, tensed, and pulled into a straight line.

He turned his face away, and took a step back.

Katsuki smiled wistfully, understanding. He took a step back, too.

Wishful thinking. Right.

Deku cleared his throat, no longer looking at him. “Right, um,” he started, got lost, then started over. “Listen, you don’t have to come over tomorrow. You’re coming by on Saturday anyway, right? Just— Just come by then. It’s fine.”

Katsuki sighed. The long day was suddenly catching up to him. “Okay,” he conceded. “Deku. Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” Deku said hurriedly, slipping through the front door and closing it a little too hard, barely sparing him a glance.

Sighing again, Katsuki made his way to his car. When he got home, he put a reminder in his calendar to go grocery shopping tomorrow. He put red wine at the top of the list.

Chapter Text

When Izuku heard someone knocking on the door, he hopped off the couch and sprinted. "Coming!" He screamed gleefully. He threw open the front door and his best friend barreled in and scooped him up in a bear hug. Izuku squealed and hugged him tightly back, arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

"Kacchan," he giggled against the scent gland that smelled of burning wood, spice, and happiness. "I missed you."

Kacchan scoffed. "It was barely two weeks, nerd," Kacchan said, but his voice was small, airy, and quiet against Izuku's scent gland. Izuku pressed his grin on Kacchan's neck, letting him know that Izuku saw right through him — Kacchan had missed him, too.

"Katsuki, dear!" Izuku's mom, Inko, chirped, suddenly appearing from behind Izuku; or had she been there the whole time and none of them had noticed? "Welcome back! Oh, look at you, you're so tan now!"

Izuku made an embarrassing squeak and let go of Kacchan, stumbling onto his own two feet. Kacchan wrapped his arm around him to steady him. He didn't let go, even when Izuku coughed and willed his blush to go away.

"Yeah, well." Kacchan shrugged, grinning politely at Izuku's mom. Izuku was always astounded by his best friend's ability to keep his composure in front of adults — which was a load of nonsense by the way because Izuku could feel Kacchan's fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, the little actor. Izuku was so going to tease him about that later. "California was stupid hot, honestly. I don't know what they were thinking, making the show outdoors and stuff."

"Oh, but it looked so pretty!" Inko gushed. "Izuku and I watched the live stream together. The dresses by your parents were so amazing!"

"Auntie, you saw those dresses yourself before we left," Kacchan reminded her, laughing.

"Well, yes, but not on people, dear! Seeing them on headless mannequins and on moving, gorgeous models are completely different. But anyway ." Inko moved in and gave Kacchan a hearty hug; Kacchan groaned but still patted her back. Izuku laughed as he stepped back for his two favorite people to say their hellos after weeks of not seeing each other. The house was bursting with the smell of lilies, pine, and campfires, as well as his mom's curry.

"Well, are you hungry, dear?" Inko asks. "Dinner's almost ready. We can start eating as soon as your parents get here."

"They're gonna need a few more minutes to unpack, Auntie. But, Izuku and I will be upstairs for a bit, if that's okay?"

"Mm-hmm, that's perfectly fine, Katsuki. I'll call you both down later."

Izuku barely had time to kiss his mother's cheek before Kacchan took his hand and dragged him running for the stairs. Izuku laughed at the other's frenzy, and Kacchan laughed when he tripped on one of the steps. Once they were in his bedroom, they closed the door, panting, laughing together when there wasn't anything funny.

But, everything was just fun with Kacchan. There may not be a joke, but having Kacchan back, having his scent fill the room again, having him home again, was so relieving that his body didn't know what to do to express that joy other than laugh.

And, well.

Izuku had his back to his door, hands on his knees while he regained his breathing. Katsuki was a few feet away, hunched over with his own hands on his hips, panting and fighting off more bouts of laughter. They looked up at the same time and caught each other's eyes.

Izuku's Omega lifted its face to sniff the air, howling at the scent of Alpha .

Which made Izuku blush madly, steam almost whistling through his ears, because ahahaha what?? K-Kacchan wasn't— He was an Alpha, sure, b-but not his! They were just best friends! Just best friends…

Kacchan lifted his brow, seeming like he'd noticed Izuku's change in demeanor.

They were just best friends… who…

Kacchan stepped towards him, leaned in, and turned his head to brush their heated cheeks together, then the side of their necks — their scent glands.

They were just best friends who scented each other regularly, that was all.

And what a joy that was.

Izuku hummed, his spike of anxiety and embarrassment melting away as quickly as it had come. His eyes fluttered closed, and he nuzzled at Kacchan's scent gland, purring when he felt the other's nose graze his nape.

And, well, apparently his body could only laugh and scent his friend when he was so, so happy to be whole again.

When Izuku returned to reality with a few sleepy blinks, he realized that they had moved; Izuku's arms were draped over Kacchan's shoulders, and Kacchan's arms were wound tight around his waist. Izuku finally registered the steady, deep rumble of an engine against his chest — it wasn't his heartbeat, which had slowed to a peaceful rhythm upon their scenting, but it was Kacchan's purr.

Alpha is happy.

Izuku grinned, over the moon; it was rare to hear Kacchan purr! While Izuku had the privilege of hearing it more times than anyone else, it was still a treat to hear the Alpha show such intimate contentment, unabashed and vulnerable. Just for him.

Just for him.

Izuku buried his nose again in Kacchan's neck, greedily breathing in the blaze of fire, imagining that he and Kacchan were in the safety of the woods that Kacchan liked to camp in, of the summits he liked to conquer, away from prying eyes but Izuku's. He imagined he didn't have to share him with the world, didn't have to say goodbye to him at the airport and wait for him to come back weeks after. He imagined Kacchan as all his. 

As Izuku inhaled one more time before gently pulling away, his cheeks dusted pink, he wondered if Kacchan ever imagined these things himself.

Kacchan, his own cheeks dusted pink, clicked his tongue cutely. "Fuckin' sap," he grumbled. He stepped away and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Izuku snorted. "Uh-huh." Izuku rolled his eyes before hopping on his bed and lying on it. Kacchan followed him. "You scented me first, Kacchan."

"Uh-huh," Kacchan echoed him, uninterested. He slapped Izuku's hip with the back of his hand to signal him to scoot over; Izuku did, all the way to the wall, but it was barely enough for Katsuki to lie back with him. Kacchan's shoulder was on top of Izuku's, and Izuku's arm was awkwardly smushed under his own body to make enough room.

"Jeez, no wonder you're not growing any taller. Your fucking bed is ridiculous."

"Maybe you could fit if you didn't have such a big head, Kacchan."

"I'll cave yours in if you don't shut the fuck up."

"It's my bed! You can't beat up the person who owns the bed!"

"Heh. I basically live here anyway. What's yours is mine, stupid."

"Then I'll have your bed, then."

"Fuck off out of there, nerd."

"But you just staked your claim on my stuff! I basically live at yours, too, you know!"

"Yeah, but my stuff is cooler. It'll be a downgrade for me if we end up just switching."

"You're trying to monopolize stuff."

"Because I deserve it, dweeb."

"Ugh, yeah right." Izuku shifted so he could free his arm, making Kacchan grumble. "Oh yeah, where are my souvenirs, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, I didn't get you any."

Izuku's eyes widened, his mouth clicking shut, the easy words of banter plummeting from his chest to his feet.

"Oi, fuck, I was just joking!" Kacchan said, elbowing him in the gut and making Izuku let out an oof. "Sheesh, what do you take me for? It's all at home. I just immediately came over and didn't bring any with me."

"Oh." Izuku breathed, and the weight in his gut dissipated. He let out a small, timid laugh. "Well. Thank you, Kacchan. I'm sure I'll love it!"

"Of course you're gonna. I picked them out myself."

They settled back on the bed, and then Izuku rolled over on his side, facing Kacchan, so they could have more room — and definitely not so Izuku could press his forehead on Kacchan's shoulder, no, no, no.

Izuku hoped his friend couldn't see his blush.

Kacchan suddenly put a gentle hand in his hair, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. "Don't fall asleep," he said, voice soft, tired like he was seconds away from sleeping himself. "Deku."

"M'not." Izuku yawned. "I won't. M'just closing my eyes."

The fingers in his hair grew more insistent. Izuku groaned. "Kacchan, quit it."

Kacchan tugged his ear playfully, and Izuku swatted his hand away with a click of his tongue. Kacchan snorted a laugh. They fell into comfortable, relaxed, sleepy silence again.

That was until a thought came to Izuku.

Izuku gasped and sat up quickly, making Kacchan jump out of his skin and out of his five-second nap. " Jesus , what—"

"You didn't even change clothes, did you!?" Izuku demanded.

Kacchan blinked once, twice, and cackled.

"Oh my god, ew, ew, ew! You're sleeping on my bed with outside clothes! With AIRPORT CLOTHES!"

"Ow! Stop pushing me, you fucking— Ack!"

"DIRTY! GET OFF MY BED AND CHANGE!"

Kacchan was on his butt on the floor, hands clasped in Izuku's as they pushed at each other with playful barks and laughs. Kacchan was stronger than him, bigger than him, and even with Izuku having the upper hand on the bed and pushing down at him, Izuku was still weaker. So, when Izuku wasn't immediately being face-planted or pinned or tossed around, he knew that Kacchan was holding back for Izuku's sake. He knew that Kacchan didn't want to win but wanted to make him laugh, like they were at that moment.

And when their parents opened the door to drag them down for dinner, with Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru fresh out of the shower and looking a lot more refreshed than Kacchan, Izuku knew that Katsuki had literally rushed over to greet him without a thought for his own rest or comfort. And that made Izuku wonder if this boy thought about Izuku the way Izuku thought about him. Izuku wondered, with a grin splitting his face and butterflies bursting in his stomach, if Kacchan could reciprocate his feelings after all. 

Because it was really, really weird to feel these things if they were just best friends, right? Right?

Izuku took a deep breath in, glanced at the wall clock that read 10:49, and continued to panic.

Bakugou had texted him that Saturday morning that he would be coming over at 11. Izuku had nearly choked on his eggs (Toshi had hurriedly brought over a glass of water for him and accidentally spilled some on the floor in his haste, his perfect angel). But!! It wasn’t like Izuku wasn’t anticipating his ex to come over again that week; they had kept this routine up for years, after all. But…

Izuku glanced again at the wall clock from the corner of his eye, having half a mind that the thing would be looking back at him with a mouth full of jagged teeth, ready to swallow him. Izuku didn’t realize he was pulling and scratching at his fingers when Toshi suddenly crouched in front of him and put his chin on top of his fidgeting hands.

“Mama?” He asked, crimson eyes looking up at him with questions and worry.

Izuku melted, hours of anxiety shifting just enough to make room for love and adoration for his child. He opened his palms and cradled Toshi’s chubby face, squeezing his lightly freckled cheeks, the teeth of the clock in his mind being replaced with squishy mochi. Izuku giggled at the little pout before him.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” he said gently. Toshi just stared at him. Izuku bit his lip. “What do you wanna do today, hmm?” He asked.

“Is Uncle Kacchan still gonna come over?”

Izuku ignored the skip in his heartbeat. He smiled crookedly. “I think so, bud.”

“I wanna go to the park.”

At that, Izuku let out a sigh of relief — he didn’t have to be in the house all day with his ex after all! — but he quickly covered it up with a cough. “Oh, um— Yeah, that sounds good! You can have lunch first and then go to the park with Uncle Kacchan, ‘kay?”

“Okaayy.” Toshi hopped up and walked over to the coffee table. “I wanna watch TV now,” he said, and did just that.

Izuku pulled his pup into his side, happy to distract himself with weekend superhero cartoons.

For exactly 13 minutes.

There was a knock on the front door, and Izuku jumped out of his skin.

His son gasped and excitedly jumped off the couch. Izuku remained, frantically taking out his phone and pretending he was busy with something on it while Toshi pulled open the door. Bakugou came striding in.

Fuck.

“Hi, Uncle Kacchan!” Toshi said, and Bakugou lifted him to his hip with an exaggerated grunt.

“Hey, little man,” Bakugou said easily. Izuku didn’t know what else he did because he was engrossed with mindlessly swiping through apps, pointedly not looking at him.

Izuku hoped his face wasn’t as red as he felt they were.

Which was stupid because this wasn’t supposed to be different. They were just exes co-parenting their child. Bakugou would come by once or twice a week, play with Toshi, and leave. They would argue over something mundane and Izuku would question why he ever loved that dumb bloke in the first place. They would not say goodbye at the door and would not greet each other kindly the next time they had to repeat the routine. It wasn’t supposed to be different.

But it had been different, nowadays. For weeks. It had been so, so different two days ago.

Their stupid, easy, infuriating routine had been disrupted, and Izuku didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, Deku.”

Izuku yelped and dropped his phone. He whirled his head to look at Bakugou, a deer in headlights making eye contact with the driver.

“H-Huh?” He garbled.

Bakugou was wearing an unfamiliarly neat black button-up and light trousers, with a fancy-looking watch on his right wrist and a simple chain of silver on his neck. His black shoes and socks were at the entrance. His hair was shorter — a fresh haircut — the hair at his nape shaved, his ears visible. Toshi was staring at him with a curious, star-struck sparkle in his eyes.

Izuku hoped Bakugou couldn’t see that same sparkle in Izuku’s eyes.

“Uh,” Izuku mumbled intelligently. “I— You— Where are you going?”

Bakugou huffed and put Toshi down. When he bent down like that, Izuku’s eyes followed the glint and swing of his silver chain, looking past that to the gap from his opened top buttons, his collarbone pronounced—

“The fuck do you mean?” Bakugou questioned, making Izuku’s train of thought careen off its tracks. “I just got here. M’not going anywhere else.”

Izuku blinked, his mouth agape.

This was so definitely not part of their routine. What the fuck.

Bakugou always came by in simple and casual clothes. Izuku could barely remember the last time he’d seen him outside of his hero uniform or sweatpants or, at best, jeans. Izuku didn’t think he’d ever seen him look this put-together for any occasion, really — even when Bakugou went to his parents’ fashion shows, be it years ago or recently, he chose to wear streetwear. It was jarring to even think this man owned trousers to begin with!

But. Here he was. For a simple weekend visit to Izuku’s house.

What the fuck.

“You smell really nice, Uncle Kacchan!” Toshi piped up, bouncing on his toes. The little pup took Bakugou’s right wrist to stare at his watch. “Cool! Where’s the clock? Why does it look so confusing? It looks like the thing on cars that tells you how fast you’re going! Is this a superhero gadget that tells you how fast you’re flying when you do the boom-boom thing in the air, Uncle Kacchan?”

“Thanks, bud.” Bakugou scratched his curls with his left hand, a soft smile on his face. “Nah, it’s just a watch. The fancy kind. You like it?”

Toshi made a face. “It’s cool, but I can’t tell the time.”

“Yup. Me neither.” Then, Bakugou’s attention shifted to Izuku again, who was barely mentally present. The bastard smirked, and oh fuck. “Oi, nerd. Cat got your tongue?” He teased.

Oh, fuck him. “Oh, fuck you,” Izuku muttered. Then, he got embarrassed when he realized that he had said that out loud. He stuttered, “I-It’s just that you— you look weird, is all.”

Weird and… handsome. Weirdly handsome. What the fuck.

Bakugou’s smirk turned into a shit-eating grin. Izuku blanched — had he said that out loud, too!? He didn’t have time to think when Bakugou said, “I’ll take that as a compliment, Deku. Here, I got you something.”

Bakugou handed him a bag that Izuku hadn’t even realized he was holding. Inside was a bottle of red wine.

Izuku gasped. “Bakugou!” He wheezed. “You—!”

“Oooh, what is that, what is that?” Toshi popped up in front of him, his curious hands turning the bottle over while Izuku had a firm grip on the neck to keep it from falling.

“It’s just grape juice, Toshi.” Bakugou took a seat right next to Izuku.

Izuku nearly fucking dropped the bottle.

“Ew.” Toshi stuck out his tongue and made a sour face. He gave Izuku the bottle back. “I don’t like grape juice.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bakugou stretched his big arm over Izuku, his body leaning in and basically caging him — why was he ridiculously close, and was Bakugou wearing cologne, huh — to retrieve the bag and pull out a box of apple juice. “That’s why I got you this one,” Bakugou said, a grin on his face as Toshi squealed at the little gift.

“B-Bakugou…” Izuku whispered, more than a little flustered, confused, and lost. He glanced at the other man, who was already looking at him. There was no mouth full of jagged teeth, but somehow Izuku still felt like he was going to be swallowed. Izuku stared into the deep, drowning red of Bakugou’s eyes, framed in curtains of gold lashes, inviting him to step into its gaping maw. It sent a shiver down his body, and Izuku licked at his dry lips. He cleared his throat. “T-Thank you. For this. Toshi, where’s your thank you for Uncle Kacchan?”

“Thank you, Uncle Kacchan,” Toshi said automatically, already stabbing his straw into his juice box without a care. He wandered closer to the TV and sat on the floor, continuing to watch his cartoons. He was in his own little world now.

And Izuku was in hell.

How the hell did their carefully constructed, shitty routine get thrown out the window so abruptly, and what was he supposed to do without it?

However, he wasn’t given much time to mentally scramble for a script to follow. Bakugou, the rogue actor, suddenly asked, “Have you started lunch yet?” Simple. Mundane.

Simple and mundane was technically good. But Izuku wasn’t used to Bakugou being those things with him, in this house. So, Izuku could only timidly, quietly respond, “No.” He waited, hoped, for the bomb to go off, for an argument to ensue, for a click of a tongue or for an exasperated eye-roll, because he was used to Bakugou being angry and unimpressed and sick of him — that was all he had ever known these past years, it was in the script, he could follow it and know what to fire back — but Bakugou gave him none of that now. 

Instead, Bakugou hummed, stood up, and said, “Good. I’ll cook, then.”

Izuku had no idea what to say to that. Couldn’t fire back. Because Bakugou wasn’t firing anything at him. Bakugou was… putting on his apron and cooking them lunch. The only fire he was igniting was the fire on the stove — small, safe, and contained. Not for the first time in the last few weeks, Izuku didn’t feel like the house would burn down from the friction between them two. The house just felt… warm.

It was so warm that Izuku wondered if he could shed the coat of armor he had worn since he was fifteen years old.

Dazed, eyes flicking now and then to Bakugou’s back, Izuku placed the wine bottle on the kitchen counter, remembered that he had a child in the house, and decided to keep it in his room for the time being. While he was in there, he took a minute to sit on his bed and breathe.

He caught himself in the mirror. He grimaced at his stained oversized shirt and shorts. Should he change? Bakugou was being weird for wearing such nice clothes for a supposedly chill time at Izuku’s house, and Izuku was in his own damn house so he could technically wear whatever he wanted, but Izuku couldn’t help but feel underdressed. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, cursed quietly, and tugged the thing over his head.

After an agonizing ten minutes later, he came out wearing a cropped orange T-shirt and comfy black sweatpants that showed just enough of his stomach for the hot summer. He'd thought about changing it again because his shirt rode up ridiculously when he lifted his arms, but ultimately settled on it (because he was developing an unnecessary headache over this, ugh). He wandered back into the space of his dining room and kitchen.

“Fuck, there you are,” Bakugou muttered, tossing what seemed to be mouth-watering stir fry. “Started to think you crawled out of the window and…” Bakugou turned to look at him, and his mouth froze. He stopped stirring his food.

Izuku tensed, the voices in his head screaming all at once. You look so fucking ridiculous. You changed but you still look like shit. There’s something on your face. There’s an embarrassing stain on your crotch. There’s a twig in your hair. You—

“You didn’t have to change, nerd,” Bakugou eventually said. He turned back to his food. The sizzling of meat and vegetables continued. “But. You look nice. You looked nice before but. Whatever. You hungry yet?”

“Y-Yes,” Izuku said. The voices quieted down, but his nerves didn’t leave completely. He cleared his throat and approached the Alpha, peeking around his body to look at him working the spatula like it was nobody’s business. He was now completely distracted by the smell. He hummed and took a big whiff. “Oh my god, yes, I’m actually super hungry now.”

Bakugou laughed. “Don’t fucking drool on it, Deku,” he said. “Toshi was saying he wanted to go to the park after lunch.”

“Oh, yeah, he mentioned that. You guys have fun, then. I’ll grab his water bottle for you later.”

“What for?” Bakugou said. “Just come with us.”

“WHAT—”

“Why not?” Bakugou turned to look at him. Izuku gaped at him. “Just lock the door. We won’t be long, anyway.”

“N-No, it’s not— I’m not talking about the house, I— Huh?”

A beat passed. Bakugou sighed, and his gaze turned soft. He switched off the fire but left the stir fry in the pan while he turned to address Izuku head-on.

“Come with us to the park, Izuku,” Bakugou said, the coarseness of his voice leaving goosebumps on Izuku’s arms. “You don’t have to be here alone while I have fun with Toshi. We can just go together.”

As a family.

Izuku blinked, slightly alarmed that his head had added such a jarring thing. He cleared his throat and scratched the side of his neck. “Uhh. I mean. O-Okay? Sure. Why?” Izuku flicked his eyes up to Bakugou’s. “Why are you…”

But Bakugou was plating the food, carefully portioning each plate. Izuku was about to leave when Bakugou suddenly said, “Because I want you to.”

And Izuku was…

Dumbfounded.

That wasn’t in any of the scripts Izuku had. This was new. This was scary because new meant foreign. New meant that Izuku was at a loss.

But Bakugou was completely comfortable. This new, foreign Bakugou moved in his kitchen like he’d lived here all his life. The way he called for their son and the way he wiped the little one’s mouth with a tissue with a click of his tongue were the same, but the way Bakugou took Izuku’s empty plate and the way he quietly ignored his protests while he did the dishes were… new.

Izuku was at a loss.

They were at the park together now. Toshi was climbing the monkey bars, his shirt riding up and exposing his belly, his mouth open wide in a laugh. Izuku and Bakugou were at either side of him, encouraging him to grab the next bar all the way to the end. Izuku playing with Toshi was not new, and neither was Bakugou playing with Toshi, but it was new for them to play with him together.

Like a family.

Izuku’s smile quivered, straightening into a tense line.

That idea was not as foreign to Izuku as he wished it was. There was a time when Izuku had desperately wanted that scenario to be true, had desperately wanted them to say the right lines and do the right stage directions to achieve that happily ever after. There was a time when that was in the script.

But now it wasn’t. They had discarded that arc a long time ago, had torn those pages out and burned them. They were too deep in their villain arcs now to turn back.

Right?

“Mama, are you tired?” Toshi suddenly asked.

Izuku snapped back into reality; he hadn’t realized that Toshi had made it all the way to the end of the monkey bars. His son had his feet on the ground and was gazing up at his dam with confusion.

Izuku internally cursed at himself, but he showed a reassuring smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I must’ve spaced out.”

“It’s summer, and the sun is pretty hot,” Bakugou supplied the excuse. He was wearing his sunglasses; both functional for the weather and for avoiding curious fans. “You should sit down and cool your head.”

“I— yeah.” Izuku deflated. He didn’t want to ruin his son’s playtime by making him worry. He seemed to be doing that a little too often nowadays, which gutted him. He had to sort his shit out. “Yeah, I probably should.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bakugou suddenly said. Before Izuku could even protest, Bakugou turned to Toshi and said, “Will you be okay playing by yourself for a few minutes, Toshi?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m a big boy now.”

“Y’sure are, bud. But, don’t go running off, ‘kay?”

“Okayyy.”

Bakugou hummed, crouching down to scent the little pup — quite thoroughly, as Alphas usually did when they wanted to warn other adults that the pup had a powerful sire in the vicinity. It was a “touch my pup and you die” kind of bit. Izuku would do the same thing whenever he went out with Toshi — it wasn’t as effective with an Omegan scent, but it worked well enough for a single dam like himself.

Well, a single dam with an enormous headache of an ex, that was.

They found a bench at the edge of the playground. When Izuku had a good drink of his water, he said, “Will you stop being so nice? You’re freaking me out.”

The pain in his ass had the gall to laugh. “What the fuck, Deku?” Bakugou huffed, a lazy grin on his punchable face. Izuku couldn’t see past the tinted lenses of his glasses, but Izuku was pretty sure his eyes were full of mirth. “So, I’m an ass when I’m being an ass but also when I’m not?”

“Yes,” Izuku hissed. “So, just— just! Quit it!”

“Uh-huh,” Bakugou drawled, turning his head to watch Toshi go down the slide. Izuku growled and turned his head to the playground, too.

“You know you look ridiculous wearing that to the park, right?” Izuku couldn’t help but jab, because he had to have the last word, goddammit.

Bakugou’s smirk grew twice as big. “Is that nerd code for ‘you look too fuckin’ hot’, De-ku?”

“Ugh!” Izuku gripped his own hair, the pounding in his head increasing. “Fucking forget it.”

A beat passed until Bakugou said, “I never wear this shit. I don’t think I’ve ever worn something nice when I visit you and Toshi.”

Izuku side-eyed him, brows furrowing. “Okay. And?”

When more than a beat passed, Izuku straightened and turned his head fully to look at his ex. “What?” He prompted.

When they’re sitting side by side like this, Izuku could see pieces of Bakugou’s eyes behind the thick sunglasses, gaze fragmented between Toshi playing, Izuku, and the thoughts in his head. But then, he turned his head to look at Izuku, his gaze completely hidden but undoubtedly focused on him now. Izuku tensed.

Finally, Bakugou said, “I always wore shit clothes when I came over because I never thought it was a big deal when I do. But, fuck that. I was an idiot. It’s supposed to be a big deal. It was back then and it still should be.”

Izuku paused. “ What ?”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Oh my fuckin'— I’m saying that it should be an important occasion when I come over and see you! It’s disrespectful of me to show up in dirty shirts and gym clothes like I’m not there for something important!” He growled, lips pulled back to show his teeth. And then, with his next words, he finally swallowed Izuku whole. “Seeing you and Toshi is important. You’re important. Alright? Fuck. Slow ass motherfucker.”

When it was Izuku’s turn to take several beats of silence, Bakugou bounced his leg anxiously and barked, “Oi! Say something, Deku!”

“You…” Izuku tried. He touched his hand to his chest and felt weird when his own thumping heart met his palm. “Isn’t… Isn’t it such a hassle to wear that all the time, though?” He eventually asked. Completely at a loss for anything else to say.

If Izuku thought he still had a script to go on before, then he was sorely mistaken now. Bakugou was ripping them all to shreds and blasting the scraps to ash. The Alpha was suddenly calling the shots in this stupid little charade of adulthood, and Izuku couldn’t tell if he himself was still an actor or had become the audience in this. Because, for some reason, Izuku felt like he was five years old again, watching his best friend in awe. Waiting for what outlandish, amazing thing he would do next.

What will Bakugou do next , Izuku wondered, mouth agape, skin prickling, head pounding. What trouble is he going to cook up now.

Bakugou laughed, threw his head back, and raked his hand through his short hair. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I— Yeah, you know what, it would be a hassle. I wasn’t going to dress up like this every fucking week or anything, I just— I was just trying to make a point. I’m not saying I’m gonna go back to wearing shitty clothes and disrespecting you in your house, alright! That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying that I’ll still try to look nice, but maybe not as nice as this all the freaking time. I don’t have enough of these shitty clothes for that bullshit anyway.”

Izuku smiled first, then laughed. “Aw,” he giggled, covering his mouth to muffle his sounds. Bakugou grumbled next to him. “I… Thank you. That’s weird but also kind of nice? Honestly, I didn’t think much of what you wore when you came over, but now that you mention it…” Izuku made a playfully sour face, exaggerating a frown. “Wow! Yeah. You were an asshole. Hmph! How dare you, indeed!”

“Oh, shut your mouth, Deku,” Bakugou said, but the bite behind his words was replaced by a chuckle.

“Well,” Izuku said, still smiling. “You do look nice. Does that mean you’re not gonna show up next Tuesday with this outfit anymore?”

“Fuck no. I’m throwing this shit in the laundry and burning it afterward.”

“Aw.” Izuku was slightly alarmed at the little pebble of real disappointment in his throat but ignored it anyway. “What a shame. Where did you even get all that anyway?”

Bakugou crossed his arms, huffing. “My old hag gave me these a while ago,” he said.

“Oh,” Izuku said. “Uh. How is she anyway? And Uncle?”

A pause. “They’re okay,” he said curtly, and that was it. Izuku bit his lip, regretting the question. He blew a slow breath from his mouth and quickly moved on to other things.

“I appreciate you for, uhh.” Izuku wracked his brain for the right words. “For trying to look presentable to us. It’s still not that big of a problem for me if you still wanna show up in sweatpants or whatever, though. You’re mostly in the house, anyway. It would be weird of me to expect you to wear something so fancy when you’re just hanging out on the couch.”

“Yeah.” Bakugou shrugged. “But, y’know. I’d rather wear something decent just in case we go out like this again.” He paused. “Or in case I take you out to dinner.”

Electricity shot through Izuku’s body. “What!?” He squawked.

“You and Toshi,” Bakugou hurriedly corrected. “I never do that, and I should. Take you guys out to eat and shit, I mean.”

“... Oh.” Izuku heaved a sigh — of relief? Izuku furrowed his brows. “O-Okay.”

Bakugou suddenly shot up, and Izuku was automatically on his own feet. “TOSHI! WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR MOUTH!?”

Izuku gasped, all thoughts of dinner and Bakugou in a black button-up and Bakugou’s parents flying out of his head as he rushed to where their son was crouched down with his hand in his mouth. “TOSHI, YOU SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW! TOSHI !”

Toshi did spit it out, and they ate dinner a few hours later. All that playing had tuckered the little one out to the point he was barely awake on the table. They tucked him into bed, switched off his light, and closed his bedroom door with a soft click.

Izuku sighed. This was the most awkward part of their newfound, weird routine — saying goodnight to Bakugou while trying not to seem like he was kicking him out the minute their son was asleep, but also trying not to have a thing happen between them that would make their strained relationship even more complicated and leave Izuku sobbing and tossing and turning on his bed and oh god they were gonna do this stupid song and dance again and it was going to suck and—

"Oi, shitty Deku, where the fuck is the wine?"

Izuku yelped.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, suddenly already in the kitchen. "Jesus, man, one of these days you're gonna get so stuck in your own head you'll forget how to come back to reality. Chill the fuck out and just tell me where you put the shitty wine."

"Uhh, I, uhh." Izuku looked from Bakugou to the front door to the dining table to everywhere at once. He pointed to the long hallway with a shaky thumb. "Bed… room?"

Bakugou stared at him with this weird expression before heaving a sigh. "Well, go get it, then," he said before turning around and rifling through his cabinet of cups.

Izuku was still incredibly confused by what was happening, but he had enough mind to call out, “I’m getting it because I want to and not because you told me to! Just so you know!” And that earned him a very unattractive snort.

Wine bottle secured and opened, Bakugou poured it into two coffee mugs. “You don’t have any wine glasses, so,” was all Bakugou said as he handed him one of the mugs.

Izuku blinked. “That's… uh. That's fine.”

Bakugou sat down and gestured for him to do the same. Izuku did, tentatively. When Bakugou closed his eyes to taste the wine, Izuku tore his gaze away from the weird Alpha in front of him and stared into the red, swirling liquor in his hands. He took a slow, careful sip, and the strong flavor washed over his tongue. It dragged down his throat in a smooth blaze, like a fiery comet zipping through, its bright light fading quickly but its heat lingering.

Izuku hummed, smacking his lips. “Shit, that’s good,” he breathed. He heard Bakugou chuckle, and when he opened his eyes to look at him, he found the same fiery wine in the other’s eyes. They caught the light above their heads when he tilted his head to smirk at him. When he dipped his head to take another drink from his mug, he didn’t take his eyes off him; the heat of his gaze lingered on Izuku.

And if Bakugou noticed the blush creeping on his cheeks, Izuku hoped he would think it was from the wine.

“Don’t drink too much,” Izuku mumbled in his mug. “You’re driving.”

“I’m not,” Bakugou said. “I mean, I’m not driving.”

Izuku raised his eyebrows. “You aren’t?”

“Of course I’m not, idiot.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You’re not supposed to drink and drive, what the fuck.”

“No, I mean— I know that, asshole, I meant, didn’t you come here with your car?”

“Nah.” Bakugou swirled the wine in his mug languidly. “I already planned on drinking this with you, so I just called a cab. I’ll call ‘em again later after we’re done.”

Izuku opened his mouth, intending to blurt out you can stay the night , but quickly clicked his teeth shut when he realized that that was a horrible idea. He quickly sipped more of his wine — a little too quick because he started coughing, the sting going straight to his nose.

“Jesus, slow down,” Bakugou scolded. “Ugh. Stay there.”

A glass of water was placed in front of him. Izuku muttered his thanks before downing it.

“Oi. Deku.”

“What?” He said nasally; his eyes were watering a little from the persisting sting behind his nose.

“When did you start liking red wine anyway?”

Izuku shrugged, picking up some tissues. “Uh, I don’t know? Mom used to have some wine at home and she’d let me have a sip sometimes. Then, well, after Toshi was born, she’d let me have a little more of it when I was getting too—” Izuku stopped. He whipped his head at Bakugou, a familiar — finally, something familiar, he needed this, he so desperately needed something that wouldn’t make him flounder like an idiot — anger dripping with his words. “Are you fucking asking me that because you think I’m some alcoholic wine mom, Bakugou!?”

“What!?” Bakugou gaped, setting his mug down. “How in the fuck did you get that conclusion, huh shitty Deku?”

“Oh, please, Bakugou,” Izuku spat. “You just pieced it together that I like red wine but I’m not even twenty yet, right? You must think I’m some sort of alcoholic teen mom or some shit."

"I've never —!"

"Why wouldn't you?" Izuku demanded. "Why wouldn't you think the worst of me, Bakugou!? That's what you do! You've always hated me, haven't you!?"

"Oh my fucking—" Bakugou raked his hand through his hair and gripped it tight. "You are un- fucking -believable, Deku."

That's right.

This was familiar.

They've always been like this, and it was stupid to think they could change.

Izuku gritted his teeth, the sting behind his nose migrating to the back of his eyes.

It was stupid of Izuku to ever think they could change.

"I—"

"Deku!" Bakugou suddenly cut him off. "Come on. Would you stop this? It was just a fucking question. Why is this even an argument?"

"Because—!" Izuku hissed. "Because…" Izuku paused. He looked down at the table between them and failed to find the words in their fissures. Where were the words? 

That's right, this was familiar…

But it didn't feel like it was familiar.

His next inhale came like a stutter, like he was about to lose his breath, too, and panic seized him.

Bakugou sat up straighter. "Whoa, hey—"

Izuku's eyes desperately searched for— for— what the fuck was he looking for? Everything was in disarray, everything was ruined , and he could barely see where he was standing in it all.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Then, he looked into his mug, and he saw his own frightened face stare back at him, drenched in red.

Izuku whimpered.

"You don't think I can do this," he wheezed, his mouth trembling, the person in the liquor unmoving. "You don't— You've never thought I could do anything right."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not that weak," Izuku said. But his voice was small, the way he always felt when faced with his reflection. "I'm… I'm not… but…"

"Izuku," Bakugou said, and Izuku flinched, whipped his head up and looked at him wide-eyed, unseeing. Bakugou furrowed his brows, worried, but Izuku could only see the unmoving red reflection in his wine-red eyes. "I don't think that."

"Bull—" Izuku croaked. "Bullshit!" He screamed at himself. "Are you saying you've never thought about it!? Oh, I’m so fucking depressed and nothing makes the pain go away besides this sweet, sweet alcohol, oh, I’m so fucking pathetic and useless and I must beat my child when I’m blackout drunk— ”

“IZUKU, STOP !”

The command in Bakugou's Alpha voice forced him to shut his mouth, even as more jagged words banged on the back of his teeth, begging to be let out. Izuku could only heave in wet, sticky breaths that barely expanded his chest. He was crying — when had he started crying? But he was now, and he couldn’t contain it, couldn’t muffle the ugly sobs bursting out of his mouth, couldn't smother his ugly reflections that reminded him of why he was pathetic and small and would always be a fuck up and—

“Izuku.”

Big, gentle hands circled his mug, barely brushing against his own trembling hands, and took the drink slowly out of his grasp. Izuku didn’t fight it, just let it go and let Bakugou take it away somewhere into the kitchen. The next time he saw those hands, they were back on the table, inching towards his but hesitant to touch him. But, then, as if urged on by an invisible force, Bakugou reached out and clasped one of his hands in his. Squeezing.

Izuku hiccuped. He squeezed back, a barely there pressure. He wondered if Bakugou even felt it or had written it off as a tremble.

Either way, Bakugou squeezed his hand again. “Izuku,” he said again, quieter than the last two times; the first time being an alarming Alphan noise, demanding to be heard, for others to stop speaking. The voice still rang uncomfortably in his ears, and it made Izuku think back to the times Bakugou had ever used that voice on him when they argued.

And Izuku turned up empty. Izuku breathed in raggedly, let it out, and he remembered that Bakugou had never used his Alpha voice at him except for this one time. 

Upon that realization, Izuku slowly lifted his head.

Bakugou was sitting to his right. He had scooted his chair closer to him, and their knees were touching. His eyes had lost their glint of light, but they still burned when they bore into him. The intensity of his gaze was juxtaposed by the soft, tender swipe of his thumb over Izuku’s knuckles.

Emotions welled up in Izuku’s chest, traveled to his head until it was too hard to keep his head up from the pressure, until Izuku bowed to hide the dripping tears from his eyes, but Bakugou hastily said, “Izuku, no. No, look at me.”

Izuku shook his head, more sobs racking his body. “I’m—” He gasped. “I’m sorry, I— I-I—”

“I never thought of you in that light, Izuku,” Bakugou said. “ Never , Izuku.”

Izuku blinked a few times, and more tears dropped onto his lap. He was sure Bakugou hadn’t used his Alpha voice this time, but it felt like he had from the way those words made a loud pang in his chest, from the way they urged him to heed his words and look at him again.

“Don’t ever talk about yourself like that,” Bakugou ordered. He squeezed his hand again, a little tighter, almost too tight, but it didn’t compare to the tightness in Izuku’s lungs. “Actually, how fucking dare you talk about yourself like that. I know you’re not an alcoholic, stupid Deku. I know you don’t beat our son, the fuck. I wasn’t trying to insinuate that. Why would you say that?”

Izuku dug the hell of his left palm into his eyes. “I could be,” he whispered.

Bakugou leaned in closer. “What?”

“Sometimes I think I could be,” Izuku confessed, voice torn to shreds, red liquor sloshing like tidal waves in his mind. “I’m the perfect person to be an alcoholic, aren’t I? I’m stressed out and sad all the time, my mom died and I have nobody to support me, I have a shit job that barely pays but I don’t think I’ll ever get another one because I’m a stupid middle school dropout, I’m— I’m—” Izuku hissed. “I’m useless.”

A pause. A swipe of a thumb over his knuckles. “Izuku. You’re not.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, yeah,” Izuku barrelled on. “Because I was so fucking scared to be one. At first, it was just little sips of mom’s wine, then I knew what a buzz felt like, and it scared the shit out of me. I didn’t want to touch any of that stuff anymore. Then mom died and I had to throw all of it away from the house because I knew I would be, I absolutely would lose it and spiral and they’d take Toshi away from me— And I can’t— I can’t.”

“Breathe,” Bakugou whispered. And Izuku did, shakily.

“It was so hard,” Izuku sobbed. “I wanted to die .” When Bakugou squeezed his hand hard, Izuku squeezed harder. He sobbed louder. “Oh my god. Oh my god, it was— I couldn't— Fuck .”

“You never told me,” Bakugou said — not as an accusation, but as a confused, heartbroken statement.

Izuku scoffed, shaking his head. “No,” he said. "Why would I?"

Bakugou fell silent. The pounding in his head grew. His chest felt tighter. After a minute, Izuku continued, "I didn't touch wine again until I started dating my boyfriend. He has it in his house. We drink it with dinner. I'm as stable as I can be now, and it helps that it's just at his place and there's not that much alcohol in it anyway and I'm sober again by morning." Izuku shrugged. "So, yeah. I've liked red wine since I first tasted it during middle school. But I only started really enjoying it about a month ago, I guess." He paused to scoff. "Fuck, I could've just said that then. Stupid."

"Don't call yourself stupid," Bakugou was quick to scold. Then, his tone softened. "And I'm glad you told me this. Izuku." After a moment of contemplation, he said, "And, fuck, I'm sorry I used my Alpha voice earlier. I shouldn't have."

Izuku rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He wiped at the residual tears on his lashes. "I'm surprised you haven't used it since—"

"I would never." Bakugou cut him off, a sharpness in his words. Then, they dulled comically when he cursed and said, "Except tonight. Shit ."

Izuku smiled. It was his turn to squeeze Bakugou's hand first. "You wanted me to stop talking shit about myself," he said, both to Bakugou and to himself. "Not to make me lose an argument or whatever. That difference matters."

Bakugou said nothing to that except a quiet, "I'm still sorry."

Izuku hummed. He idly swiped his thumb over Bakugou's fingers, then he suddenly remembered that he had his hand in Bakugou's hand , and he grew immensely embarrassed and let go. He tried to play it off as needing to scratch an invisible itch behind his head, but even as he did it, buzzed or not, he knew he looked ridiculous and Bakugou caught on to his sudden flare of nerves.

However, Bakugou just leaned back in his chair, his bottom lip between his teeth, barely giving away any emotion.

"It really does freak me out when you're so nice," Izuku said as a way to fill the silence. "But. Thank you. And I'm sorry for… yelling. And saying the things that I did."

Bakugou hummed but said nothing. Izuku wondered panickingly if he'd said the wrong thing.

Just as he was going to spiral into another mental breakdown, the smell of smoking wood and spice filled the air. Izuku gasped, inhaling the calm, warm scent, finding himself wandering back to the present, where the hearth was crackling softly.

Izuku looked at Bakugou and was barely surprised anymore to see him already looking back. Izuku thought he could get drunk in his wine-red gaze alone.

So, he looked away. He didn't want to find out what kind of drunk he would be if he indulged in that.

After a minute, Bakugou asked, "Are you comfortable with the bottle here?"

Izuku took a couple of seconds to get out of his own head and a few more to comprehend the question. "I… I don't know. When I mentioned it before, I didn't think…"

Bakugou hummed. "I can take it with me," he suggested. "And I'll just bring it over when we—" He cleared his throat loudly. "—when you want to drink it. And I'll take it back again. Some back-and-forth shit. How's that?"

"Yeah, that…" Izuku smiled, relieved. His chest loosened, made room for him to breathe a little better. "That would be great, actually. Thank you."

“‘Course.” Bakugou’s hand twitched on the table, his body swayed, almost touching Izuku’s shoulder, then he blinked and suddenly stood up. Izuku stared at him, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “I should get going,” Bakugou said.

“You’re calling a cab, right?” Izuku stood up and looked around for their mugs. “Uhh. You can just sit on the couch while waiting for it. Do you want to finish your drink?”

“Yeah, sure. Let me get it."

"No," Izuku said. The mugs were in the kitchen, clasped in Izuku's hands. He took a breath and looked into the swirling redness inside, and found no reflection. When he looked up, Bakugou was standing there, and it was just Bakugou and no-one else. "I'm taking mine anyway," Izuku said, settling into the familiar space of the house and Bakugou's presence.

They relocated to the living room, the air less suffocating and the wine going down a little smoother. Izuku had his socked feet up and he held his mug like he would a mug of hot chocolate. Bakugou was a respectable distance next to him, calmly drinking what was left in his mug while on the phone with his driver.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said after Bakugou hung up. The Alpha peered at him curiously. Izuku adjusted his sitting position nervously. “I’m… not used to this,” he continued, not really knowing where he was going. “With just sitting and drinking wine with you. It—”

“Freaks you out when I’m nice,” Bakugou finished, the corner of his mouth lifting to a half-smile. Izuku mirrored his expression.

“Yeah,” Izuku admitted quietly. “I don’t know how to talk to you when we’re not yelling at each other. And I just… I just wanted to feel right. And I got carried away."

Bakugou didn’t say anything at first. Then, he huffed. "Fucking told you you'd get too lost in your own damn head," he muttered, a mesh between a grin and a grimace on his face.

Izuku cursed and shoved his shoulder. "Jackass!" he exclaimed, the heat in his voice gone and replaced with easy, light mirth.

Bakugou chuckled, then they sat in silence, barely moving besides to tip their drinks back. The house became quiet and warm.

This… This wasn't at all familiar. But, Izuku found it wasn't too bad.

Bakugou was the first to finish his drink, the red liquid merging with the red of his eyes. When he turned that gaze to Izuku, Izuku shyly looked into his mug. He really couldn’t escape being drunk tonight, could he?

And Izuku found that that wasn't bad at all. In fact, he was getting more than just a little buzzed. He was getting… lighter. Izuku hid his lopsided grin behind the rim of his mug. Oh, he was light.

“We don’t gotta talk,” Bakugou finally spoke. He shrugged one shoulder, then gently put his mug on the coffee table. “And we sure as hell don’t gotta fucking scream at each other. It’s old, now. I’m tired of it.” He paused. “Scream at me if you want, but just don’t fucking expect me to scream back. Stupid Deku.”

Izuku knew that Bakugou was being serious, but— it must’ve been the wine or the way Bakugou said it or the way he was trying to sound cool and shit or something in between those— but Izuku laughed. Oh, it was— it wasn’t funny! But, Izuku couldn’t help but laugh into his hand and tip sideways, making Bakugou jump and flounder to take the mug out of his hands before he spilled it all over the couch, and Izuku’s fit of giggles persisted.

“Are you already drunk, fuckin’ bastard?”

“I don’t know!” Izuku wheezed. Why was he lying on the couch? Where did the pillow under his head come from? Huh! “It’s just funny!”

“What’s fuckin’ funny, hah?”

Izuku giggled into his pillow. Oh, it was the pillow for his couch! Yikes, it was so coarse and did not feel great on his burning cheeks. Was he blushing? Damn, that was good wine.

“Useless lightweight.”

“You’re so mean, Kacchan,” Izuku slurred, then hiccupped and burped. “Oh, fuck.”

His head wasn’t pounding as much anymore, or maybe it was Izuku who couldn’t feel it. He was blissfully sleepy. He thought he was asleep from the way things were so still and quiet, but then his shoulder was rudely shaken. He groaned and tried to swat the hand away, or at least he thought he tried to; the hand kept shaking him. He also heard someone — Bakugou? Yeah probably, what a handsome guy he was — talking, but he was too out of it to listen.

The next time Izuku came back into the world of the living, it was in the middle of the night and his neck was killing him. He realized that he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He groaned and sat up, rolling his head, but he barely registered the crick in his neck when he was too taken aback by the blanket pooling on his lap.

Izuku lifted the blanket up to his face, half-thinking it wasn’t real and he was dreaming — but it was and he wasn’t. It was undoubtedly the blanket from his room and it—

Izuku’s eyes widened, and his heart fluttered in his ribcage. Slowly, Izuku raised the blanket to his nose, and breathed in.

And he sobbed.

It smelled like burning wood, spice, and happiness.

He slept on the couch until morning, never letting the blanket go. The wall clock was the only one who witnessed this, and it kept its mouth full of teeth shut.

Chapter Text

Stupid Deku was mad at him. Shit.

In Katsuki's defense, how was he supposed to know that Deku was in pre-heat? It was just supposed to be funny, like tearing duct tape off someone's arm and laughing at the hairs stuck to it.

They were eleven, which meant puberty and shit. Katsuki definitely felt a difference, like growing a whole lot taller over the summer, having a stronger scent, and bigger teeth, too. Damn those growth spurts hurt, but he wasn't a loser so he just sucked it up (he whined to his Ma and Pops incessantly about it, and made Deku swear not to tell anyone). 

But about his Omega best friend, he didn't know much. Deku was a chatterbox with most things except puberty shit. He got all embarrassed and quiet about it, weirdly. But whatever.

Well. That “whatever” was definitely biting him in the ass now. When he tore off Deku’s scent patch in the middle of class, a soft, sweet scent filtered through the room. Katsuki had stopped mid-grin, completely… um… well, he didn’t really know what he felt. It felt like he was hypnotized or was hit with a pause Quirk. But he really liked it. He liked Deku’s smell, so he didn’t have the instinct to put the patch back until their Omega teacher screeched, snatched the patch from his hand, and hurriedly whisked Deku away to who knows where. 

The class was muttering amongst themselves then, wondering why shitty Deku smelled all nice all of a sudden, but Katsuki was still stuck in that weird trance. When the teacher and Deku came back, Deku had a new scent patch on his neck, and he was quiet all day.

“Deku,” Katsuki said after he finally caught him after school; the nerd had dodged him at every break all afternoon. “Deku, I'm sorry, okay? How many times do I gotta say it, hah?”

Deku shouldered past him with a deep, ugly frown on his face. 

Katsuki grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Izuku!” Katsuki called out. “Come on, man, what's the matter with you?”

To his shock, Izuku wrenched his arm away with a force that sent Katsuki stumbling.

“Oi, shitty—”

“Shut up, Kacchan!” Izuku screamed.

Katsuki froze.

Izuku was finally looking at him, and he was crying.

His Alpha, who was starting to become vocal in his head, whimpered, and immense guilt suddenly washed over Katsuki. He tried to physically shrug it off, but the voice in his head insisted that he had failed his Omega — which didn’t make sense! Dumbass mutt! Because Deku was just a Deku and he was— was—

Oh, he was crying.

“Hey,” Katsuki whispered, probably the most quiet he’d ever been. “You okay?”

Izuku only spared a second to wipe his tears before he stormed off again. Katsuki was stuck in place.

After dark, Katsuki fiddled with their walkie-talkie. Part of him was mad that Izuku was mad for so long, but another part of him couldn’t stand the weird silence. He still had no idea what the big deal was, since at their puny ages their scents barely made someone sneeze and scent patches weren’t much of a thing at school besides for important assemblies. But, that scent from Deku was… new. 

And Deku had looked sad when he sat back down with a new patch.

Katsuki pressed the button of the walkie-talkie. “Oi, Deku,” he said. “Come in, shitty Deku.”

Nothing.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Izuku, come in.”

“What.” Came a familiar, quiet, annoyed voice.

“Why the hell are you still mad at me?”

Nothing.

“Oiiiiii. Shitttyyyy Dekuuuuuu. Comeeee iiiiiinnnn, Shitttyyyy—”

“KACCHAN.”

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“Because I’m mad at you.”

“You’re never mad at me for a whole day.”

“I am today.”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” Katsuki sighed. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.” He paused. “But it was. Wasn’t it?”

This time, when there was nothing, Katsuki understood.

“What happened?”

“Mom always told me that Omegas can’t let anyone smell us when we’re… at that time.”

“What, heat?”

“Mm.”

“It’s just when your tummy hurts real bad, isn’t it? What about it?”

“Um.”

“Deku.”

“M-My tuh-tummy hurts, yeah,” Izuku stuttered suddenly. Katsuki furrowed his brows. “But— There’s, um— M-More to it. W-When I get, uh, older.”

“Uh-huh…?”

“Mom says it’s dangerous so I can’t let anyone smell me.”

“I don’t freaking get it!”

“You don’t have to!” Deku shouted back. “It’s just that you really made me feel uncomfortable and embarrassed!”

“I told you I was sorry, Shitty Deku!”

“ But you aren’t !”

“What the— Fuck you, Deku, of course I am! Shut up!”

“You aren’t really sorry because you’re yelling!” Deku said. He sounded like he was sobbing again. Katsuki paused. “And— And you don’t get it, Kacchan! You can never understand! You’re— You’re strong, and big, and a cool Alpha. I’m… I-I’m…”

At that, the ice wall around Katsuki’s heart melted; he knew exactly where this was going. “Hey,” he said, trying to purr because he knew Deku liked it when he purred, but he didn’t have good control of it yet so it came out a pathetic wheeze. He coughed, saying, “You’re not useless, Izuku. You have me, and I don’t hang around useless people. You know that.”

“Mm.” Izuku sniffled.

Katsuki said, “Let me come over.” When Izuku hummed, Katsuki put on his shoes and climbed out the window.

It was a short walk and tree-climb until Katsuki made it to the nerd’s own window. He barely knocked on the glass when Deku quickly opened it for him.

“You’re right, I don’t get it,” Katsuki said when he hopped off the windowsil. He turned and faced his friend. Izuku stared at him with wide, glassy eyes. “But I should get it.”

“Kacchan?”

He shifted from one foot to another, scowling, hoping the shitty nerd couldn’t see the heat rising to his head, and opened his arms. He heard a little gasp and it was the only warning he had before a heavy weight crashed into his chest.

Finally.

Katsuki held him closer, a bit disappointed that the sweet scent was still muffled by the patch, but that didn't stop him from burying his face in the nerd's neck.

It felt right. Finally.

“What did that shitty teacher say to you?”

Izuku sobbed into his chest. “She said she was going to make me go to the principal’s office if I didn’t keep it on.”

His Alpha, usually quiet and barely-present, snarled. “What the fuck for!?”

“Kacchan…”

“ I tore that shit off!” He shouted at the empty, dark room. “ I was the one— Why should you get in trouble for that? For just— For just being… What? For smelling nice? For being yourself?”

Izuku tensed. “You think I smell nice?” He murmured.

“You do smell nice, the fuck.” Shit was obvious. Why the hell was the nerd bringing that up now? Weirdo. “The point is, it doesn’t make sense that you should be punished.”

The Omega sighed. “It’s not that simple, Kacchan…”

“Yeah, I still don’t get it.” That earned him a scoff. “And I’m sorry that I don’t,” he continued.

It was faint, but he felt Izuku hold the back of his shirt a little tighter. He returned it with a short nuzzle to his curls.

“But I’m gonna look it up—”

“—Oh my god, Kacchan, no, that’s embarrassing!!!!—”

“—Shut up! I will! It’s so I can understand what the hell I did wrong so I can apologize more properly, dumbass! And then after that, I’m gonna destroy it with my explosions so you won’t ever get in trouble again for something so stupid!”

“Kacchan…” Izuku stared at him, amazed.

“And Deku.”

“Hn?”

“Don’t fucking ignore me like that again!”

“Eep!”

“If you’re gonna be mad, then be mad, but tell me you’re mad and for how long so I won’t have to go crazy! Or at least tell me why you’re mad, goddammit! I’ll just, I don’t know, give you snacks and leave you alone or something.”

Izuku paused.

“Oi, Izuku.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he admitted softly. He buried his nose in Katsuki’s collar; he could feel his breath fanning over his skin. The heat in his face intensified. “I like being here.”

Again, his annoying Alpha made a lot of noise in his head. But… it sounded happy. Katsuki felt happy, too, he guessed, unconciously grinning into the other’s temple.

“You’re so lame, Deku.”

“Hey!”

It was 8 A.M. on a Sunday, and Katsuki had already spent a good half hour typing and erasing one fucking text.

Hey, nerd, how are you feeling? Are you still

Hungover? I can get some medicine for y

I have some medicine for you if you want. I can come over and

Oi Deku you fucking lightweight, bet your head is killing ya rn. I can get some med

Hey. You were pretty drunk last night and said some things and I really fuckin need you to clarify some of em cuz wtf deku did you mean it when you said you

Katsuki banged his forehead on his kitchen counter.

"Stupid Deku ," he growled, thumping his fist on the granite next to his throbbing head. " Killing me here. Fuck."

Last night was… a lot. Which was a fucking understatement.

They were supposed to have a chill night drinking wine like any other set of mates after tucking their pup to bed. They were supposed to sit on the couch, drinks in hand, slow music on the radio, and talk and laugh. They were supposed to be hushed and honest and maybe even fucking romantic if Katsuki had played his cards right, but who the fuck was he kidding because of fucking course shit wasn't going to be that easy — or even possible at this rate.

But he had to try. That was what he'd promised Deku. He'd promised that he would keep trying forever.

He just wasn't quite prepared for the constant heart attacks Deku would give him in the process.

After falling sideways onto the couch from just half a mug of wine, Deku became a laughing dead weight. Katsuki fussed over him, shaking him to get up or convince him to migrate to his bedroom, but the dumbass was out of it. If Deku wasn't choking himself with his fits of giggles, he was muttering incoherently. Katsuki just sighed through his nose and gave up.

Katsuki went to the end of the hall where Deku's bedroom was. Logically, he knew it wasn't a big deal to just go in and quickly grab the nerd's blanket so he wouldn't freeze to death in his own living room, but he also knew that going in at all was breaching something private. This was Deku's space, the only room in the entire house that Katsuki had never gone into.

He paced around the hallway, back and forth to the living room and the door, until he said fuck it and entered the bedroom with a short sigh of apology for the intrusion.

Then, he froze.

Katsuki gripped the doorknob in a desperate attempt to right himself from the onslaught of Deku, Deku, Deku. The room smelled like a forest, soft soil under his feet and warm sunshine brushing against his skin. However, instead of trees and vines and dry leaves, the room only had some simple furniture and a few All Might memorabilia. 

But it was all Deku. The green of the walls. The comic books on the shelves. The red, yellow, blue blanket and sheets. The Campus notebooks on his desk.

Slowly, Katsuki stepped inside. He retrieved what he came here for — the blanket — and was about to leave when curiosity finally got the best of him. With the All Might nerd blanket secured under his arm, he approached the desk and opened one of the notebooks.

His mouth opened in a silent gasp.

Pages and pages of it were sketches and notes of heroes. Each entry wasn't just about their Quirks, but also of their gear and costumes, the things they could do and couldn't do. That in itself wasn't shocking, as Katsuki was well aware of how much the Omega loved to analyze Quirks since they were kids. What was shocking was how each entry was dated and the dates were recent. 

Deku… Deku was still Deku.

He was still the same.

The stupid Alpha was still drained and overwhelmed from the knowledge that his ex had struggled so much without him even knowing — fuck him for thinking he knew Deku and what he went through; fuck him for not having a fucking clue. But this… this small miracle, a glimpse of the old Deku… it relieved him more than words could describe.

Katsuki wiped his eyes and gently put the revelation away. 

The click of the door followed behind him as he walked back to his ex. He draped the bright colors of the blanket over him, scoffing quietly when the Omega muttered under his breath.

But then, like a volume dial being turned, Deku started to say things that were loud enough for Katsuki to hear. 

“Handsome…”

Katsuki furrowed his brows. For a split second, Katsuki thought the nerd was mumbling about his prick boyfriend, and jealousy built up in his throat. He was about to turn away and go into the kitchen for no damn reason but to get away from the gross feeling in his gut until Deku kept talking.

“Mmh… Kaccha… hng.”

Kaccha—hng!?

“Haaah!?" Katsuki wheezed out loud, but Deku just smacked his lips and curled deeper into his blanket. “Oi," Katsuki said. " Oi. Nerd.”

Nothing.

Was he just imagining shit? Katsuki exhaled a sharp breath from his nose; his shirt was suddenly sticking to his back from sweat. Shit, was it getting hot in there? Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?

Katsuki raked his hand through his hair. He was just about to call his ride when Deku opened his trap again.

“Don…” Deku’s next breath rattled a little. “Don’t go…”

He fucking dropped his phone onto his foot.

“Ow! Fuck! Deku, what the—”

If Katsuki wasn't going crazy then, he was definitely going crazy now.

After a few erratic beats of his heart, Katsuki gingerly shook his ex. “ Deku ,” he insisted, needed to know if the little shit was really dreaming of his dumb ex or some other dumb fuck or if he was— if he was aware that— if he was talking to Katsuki or—

Deku's fingers rose out of the blanket, curling around Katsuki’s hand that was still on his shoulder; barely a touch of his fingertips.

And suddenly his phone on the floor, the throb in his foot, his breath, went away.

Deku's fingers were bony and a little crooked, a bit cold, a contrast to Katsuki’s huge one. Katsuki could easily engulf both of the other's hands in his, effortlessly break them even — but it was Katsuki who felt like he would fall to his knees and sob from the weight of the Omega’s delicate touch.

His Alpha howled to the moon above the house, believing that it was finally home.

The blond let out a painful, shaky breath, slowly descending to the floor, and brushed his nose over Deku’s knuckles, the breath of his lips shyly stirring the fine hairs on his estranged lover’s skin, his nose seeking a trail of pine. The proximity alone was enough to make him blush — pathetic. It was comical how he yearned for something he himself broke.

He gathered himself then, straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, and gently pulled away. Deku in turn inhaled a long breath, curled his hand over the blanket, and buried his nose in it wordlessly.

He really needed to go, Katsuki thought, before he did something stupid like fall in love even deeper with this Omega.

Resting his back against the sofa where Deku laid, he shot a quick text to his driver. He was idly scrolling through his phone when those small fingers curled again around his person, on the wrinkles of his shirt.

Katsuki turned his head. Deku was looking right at him.

“Deku?” Katsuki said.

The greenette whispered, “Are you leaving?”

Katsuki hummed, holding his gaze, not even daring to blink.

Then, Deku's eyes watered and leaked from the corners.

Katsuki shot up, panicked at the sight. “Oi, oi, what's the matter?” He frantically asked, hovering his hand everywhere but nowhere on Deku's body, afraid to touch something that hurt. “Why are you crying, huh?”

“You're—” Deku hiccuped, his hand rising to wipe one of his eyes.

“I'm what?” Katsuki prompted.

“You're leaving me again,” Deku cried, hopeless. Katsuki’s heart dropped. “Why’re you leaving me again?”

“Oh. Oh, no, no, no. Hey,” Katsuki cooed, his body moving on its own, his palms cupping the weeping man’s face, his thumbs banking the overflow of tears. “No, sweetheart. M’not, sweetheart.”

“You're a liar,” Deku accused, and Katsuki crumpled.

“I'm so sorry, Izuku,” he breathed, wishing that his fifteen year old self had just dropped dead after what he did to this man. “I was. I'm so sorry I was.”

Deku sobbed again, closed his eyes and made the tears fall in bigger droplets onto Katsuki's fingers. He weakly pushed against Katsuki's shoulder. “My head hurts,” he whined.

“I can carry you to your bedroom to sleep, how ‘bout that?”

“No.”

“What would you like me to do, Deku?”

A beat passed, then Deku whined again and threw an arm over his eyes.

Katsuki sighed. He considered carrying the man anyway until he heard him mutter something.

“What?”

“Why the fu—” He hiccuped and burped. “Euugh. Why didn't you fucking marry me, huh? I hate you. Fuck you.”

Katsuki made a strangled noise that tiptoed between a laugh and a choke. “ What ?”

“Stupid slow mother fucker Alpha.” Deku suddenly hissed and kicked his feet. “Go tuh hell.”

“Okay, Deku, you're reaaally drunk.” Katsuki awkwardly patted his shoulder, suddenly feeling like he was getting a headache, too. “I think you need to go back to sleep. You'll feel better in a couple hours, okay?”

Deku sniffled, head turned to the back of the sofa. He let out another whine and said, “Kacchan.”

“Yes?” Katsuki hurriedly replied, the long-lost nickname, however slurred with alcohol, igniting the fire in his gut, mirroring both anxiety and awe. When Deku said nothing, he said again, “Yes, Deku?”

Deku stayed silent. Asleep? The fucking bastard.

He banged his head against the coffee table, groaning long and loud. This man was the bane of his existence, he swore.

But he still loved him regardless.

“Stupid Deku,” Katsuki huffed, a tired grin stretching his face. He raised his head, rubbed his forehead, his temples, and finally ran a rough hand down his face. “I’d sleep on your floor like a lapdog if you'd let me. You've no idea. Fuck.”

“Really?”

Katsuki yelped, jumping out of his fucking skin. “Oi!? You're awake!?”

One green eye was open, somehow staring at him and also something far, far away.

“Kacchan,” he whispered. “Kacchan wants to stay?”

A split second passed where he considered lying, but he decided that that answer sucked. “Yeah, I do,” he confessed simply.

Deku stared at him, brows cutely scrunched together, until he groaned and rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. He mumbled something that Katsuki couldn't hear, but it sounded a little like he was sobbing. Katsuki's heart broke.

“What do you need, hmm? Tell me and I'll make it happen, Deku.”

“I don't know,” Deku sniffled. “But you have to go.”

Katsuki opened his mouth to protest but, like fucking magic, there was the sound of a car stopping in front of the house, followed by a pinging text message in Katsuki's phone. He cursed under his breath, eyes flicking from the door to his out-of-his-mind ex.

Deku turned his body around to face the back of the sofa, curling in on himself, appearing smaller. He said nothing, but Katsuki somehow understood that he was upset, though the Alpha couldn't pinpoint the reason why.

He genuinely considered slapping some cash in his driver's hand and telling him to go home, but he knew that sober Deku wouldn't be thrilled to see his shitty ex crashing in his living room at ass o’clock. But then again, drunk Deku was reeking of rejection and wet dirt, and this Deku, too, deserved peace.

“Deku,” Katsuki said. “I'm just going home for the night, okay? I'll be back soon. You'll wake up and you'll see a text from me, I promise.”

Silence.

“Deku,” Katsuki said again. “I promise you that I wish I could stay. I wish—”

“Stay next time.”

It was Katsuki's turn to be silent, completely stunned.

“Kacchan,” Deku said, turning his head a little, a green eye peeking at him from behind a curtain of curls. “Stay here next time. Okay?”

This Omega, Katsuki thought, was going to kill him.

But, his Alpha wagged its tail and barked at the prospect. What Katsuki did next, he blamed it on the lovesick mutt.

Katsuki held the blanket draped over his ex lover, brought it to his neck, and thoroughly, heavily scented it.

And Deku's eyes fucking glazed over.

A deep, rumbling growl vibrated from Katsuki's chest, pleased that he could calm his (ex) Omega. He maintained eye contact with him, getting so fucking high so quickly from the other's soft gaze, something he hadn't seen in fucking years, and he washed the blanket in those emotions. When he was done, Deku greedily took the blanket back and shoved it under his nose. His content purr made Katsuki grin.

“Izuku,” Katsuki said gently. “Please mean it tomorrow. Please mean it, okay?”

But Deku was unresponsive. He was fast asleep. And Katsuki had to go home, heart in his throat, a twinge of dangerous, painful hope blooming in its place.

Now, Sunday fucking morning, he was agonizing over a morning text that he'd promised Deku he would send. Sure, the nerd most probably forgot about it, but Katsuki said he would and damn him if he was going to back down from his words this time.

“Fuck it.”

[Sent]: Morning. You got pretty drunk last night. I can come over and give you some meds for the hangover, if you'd like.

He promptly slammed his phone on the kitchen counter and decided to ignore it forever (he was nervous as hell). He opted to get his breakfast ready. Finally, when he was halfway through his eggs, he got a notification. He scrambled to turn on his phone and—

It was just an app reminding him to update.

Katsuki scowled. Deku usually replied fast. Was he sleeping in because of the hangover? Well, that makes sense.

Clicking his tongue, Katsuki put his phone back on the counter. 

He went on his morning run, checked his phone every few minutes, and there was still nothing.

He took a quick shower, which meant almost half an hour of running water and agonizing about the nerd’s reply. Then, a towel on his head, a pair of sweatpants, and a clean shirt later, he went back to his living space, took a deep breath, and opened his phone.

Nothing.

… Maybe the nerd was really sleeping in.

Through the anxious cloud in his head, Katsuki continued with his day.

Grocery shopping. Checked phone. Nothing.

Sat in the park on the way home to relax. Checked phone. Nothing.

Meal prep for the week. His phone finally dinged, and he scrambled to get it (fuck the sauce on his fingers). It was Kirishima asking him to hangout.

The fuck?

Okay, something was up. It was past noon and the nerd hadn't said a thing to him. He sent a text along the lines of “wait a fuckin minute mf I'm in the middle of a mental breakdown” to Kirishima before opening his chat with the nerd, intending to text him again or call, but—

But the nerd… had already read his text?

“What the fuck ?”

Deku read it! At 9:23 AM, literally hours ago! He fucking left him on read!!

Kirishima’s text obnoxiously came in at that exact time.

Kirishima: uhhh youuuu ok?

[Sent]: NO!

Katsuki held his forehead in his palm, completely forgetting that he had cooking shit on his fingers and yelled at nobody when he inevitably got it in his hair. He spat a string of curses as he scrubbed his hands and hair, coming back to his phone and tried very very very hard not to repeat said string of curses to his shitty fucking ex.

WHY THE FUCK AREN'T YOU ANS

OI ANSWER ME YOU NE

Deku you good? Why the fuck didn't you

Are you still hungover? If you are then just tell me so I can

Lame, lame, lame, LAME.

Katsuki called Kirishima.

“BRO, I'm coming over, what's—”

“What do you do when Ashido leaves you on read?” Katsuki demanded.

A pause. A lengthy pause.

“Kats,” Kirishima said slowly. “ What ?”

Katsuki smacked the top of his counter, close to tears. “What do you do!?” He repeated, an octave higher. 

“I-I—” Kirishima audibly choked on the other line. “ Dude — You have never cared about my crush before, why are you— A-And she doesn't leave me on read! She texts me in a very timely manner! Why are you asking!?”

Katsuki whimpered, “I sent a text to Deku this morning and waited for hours and I just checked it and turns out he fucking left me on read, man.”

Another pause, even lengthier than the previous one.

“Oi, hello?” Katsuki snapped.

“Uhh.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “How bout if I just… bring the whole pack over to your place? So we can, uhh… solve this.”

Katsuki sniffled, his embarrassment trumped by the heartbreak. “Okay.”

“Right. I'll text the group chat. Be there before you know it!”

“Should I double text—”

“WAIT FOR US, BRO.”

“Fine! Hurry up!”

It barely took half an hour for everyone to pull up in his apartment. Kaminari and Sero were the last ones to come barrelling in.

“What happened, Bakubro!?” Kaminari wheezed, bouncing on one leg as he struggled to get his last shoe off. “Kirishima just said we needed to be here ASAP, we didn't know what was going on, and Sero had to pick me up first, so—”

Kaminari paused, finally taking in the weird energy in the apartment. Katsuki was lying on the sofa, his arm thrown over his eyes, the other dangling over the edge, his phone in hand. Kirishima and Ashido were leaning over the back of said sofa, cooing and rumbling words that Kaminari couldn't really pick up from the foyer. He looked to Sero, who met his gaze with a bewildered shrug.

“Uhh.” Sero broke the silence. “Guys?”

Ashido patted Katsuki's arm before scurrying over to the other two. “Come with me,” she hissed, dragging them over to the kitchen.

“Do not fucking laugh or I swear to god I will melt off your nipples,” she starts, utterly serious. She didn't give the fools a chance to snort when she continued, “Bakugou is really really legitimately upset because Deku left him on read and we gotta figure out how to help this hopeless buffoon, okay!?”

Sero and Kaminari gaped. They couldn't have laughed even if they wanted to because… wow. What???

“Yes, I know,” she deadpanned. “But he really needs us right now. Do not be dumbasses about it, I beg .”

“We won't!” Kaminari protested. “It's— a lot to process, okay! Give us a sec!”

“What was the text even about?” Sero asked.

“He hasn't told us.” Ashido huffed. “I don't know— He's so distressed. I've never seen him like this.”

“Well, it is his first love…” Kaminari winced.

“A first love that he broke up with when he got pregnant,” Sero supplied, earning twin smacks on either of his arms. “Ow! It's true!”

Ashido groaned and rubbed at her horns. “Let's just go see him and figure something out.”

On the couch, Katsuki was still in the same position as before. However, upon the three’s return, he sighed deeply and removed his arm, revealing bloodshot eyes.

“Whoa,” Sero exclaimed. “Holy shit man. Are you, uhh…” It was obvious the lanky hero wanted to ask if he was okay but realized that that was a stupid question. Yet, Katsuki answered.

“I don't fucking get it!” Katsuki sobbed. “I get into fights with him all the time but this— fuck! It's like my Alpha can't fucking breathe or some shit! It's so— It's like my Omega fucking abandoned me, which isn't even fucking true because he's not my Omega and it's just— just a stupid text but I ca— I can't—”

“Alright, easy there, big guy.” Ashido patted his arm. She gently wafted calming pheromones from her glands, which thankfully relaxed him a little. Pack Omegas were absolute treasures. “Tell us what happened.”

And he did. He told them about the other night, about the wine they shared, about the lax body he tucked in, about what he said in a drunken stupor, about the scenting, while withholding Deku's private struggles.

“I just asked him if he needed anything and he ignored me,” he finished, on the brink of pathetic tears again.

“Well,” Sero started, elbows on the back of the sofa. “This is either the easiest or the worst case of left-on-read I've ever seen, I'll tell ya.”

“Help me fix it, asshole!” Katsuki demanded. “You're the whore of the group, so what do you suggest, hah!?”

“Hey, I thought I was the whore of the group!” Kaminari interjected.

“Doesn't fucking count when most of your shots fucking miss, Dunceface.”

“He's got a point.” Kirishima coughed.

“Hey!”

“Alright, alright.” Sero waved his hands, an annoying grin on his face at being crowned a whore. “I mean, Bakugou, have you considered, maybe, like… just texting him again to check in? Who knows, maybe he is hungover. Or just busy with Toshi.”

“I did,” Katsuki muttered. “Before you guys got here. He read it almost immediately and still didn't answer.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said—”

“No, read it word for word.”

Katsuki pulled up his phone. “At first, I said ‘Morning. You got pretty drunk last night. I can come over and give you some meds for the hangover, if you'd like’.”

“And the second one?”

Katsuki paused.

“And the second oneee?”

“I said.” Katsuki grimaced. “‘Oi. Why aren't you answering?’”

His entire pack put their faces in their hands and groaned.

“I was anxious!” He defended weakly.

“Not to pry or anything, but I think this is crucial for the science,” Kirishima said. “But, like, given your, uhh, dynamic with him, this shouldn't be the first time he ignored your texts, right? How did they usually turn out?”

“I don't fucking know.” Katsuki sighed, suddenly silent for a few seconds as he spun his phone in his shaky hands. “I don't really text him much outside of just. You know. Telling him I'm coming over to see Toshi and shit. Or I just show up at their house on schedule and, um. Ignore him while I'm with Toshi.”

There was a collective murmur of “what the fuck” and “we're screwed” and “he's hopeless”.

“Ignoring each other has been our thing for years,” Katsuki admitted, a deep line between his eyebrows. “It's just, I don't know… I don't know why it hurts this much this time.”

“Did it never hurt before?”

Katsuki thought about it. The answer came to him pretty clearly. “It did,” he said. “I was just too stubborn to let it get to me.”

“And now you're trying to remedy that,” Ashido said, smiling gently. “The stubbornness, I mean.”

“And because of that, it hurts more,” Kirishima concluded. He gripped his bro’s shoulder. “So manly.”

“I don't know what to do,” he whispered.

His pack looked at each other.

“I can't speak for him or anything,” Ashido started, breaking the silence. “But I don't know, my guess is he's probably overwhelmed with what's happening between you guys.”

“The fucking text?”

“No, you stupid knothead. Your relationship!”

Their relationship?

“Yes, because things are changing. You're changing, as you said earlier. It's probably scary for him.”

“I know, he said that before, but we drank the damn wine and talked and shit. I thought we were… okay. Kind of? At least to be civil for a damn text.”

“Doesn't mean he isn't scared anymore.”

Katsuki wanted to protest but found he had nothing to fire back.

“He might be processing things,” Sero agreed. “Could be that it's just sinking in, after sobering up.”

“So,” Kaminari piped up. “Deku just needs space, is what y'all are saying?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ohhh, yeah, makes sense. What do you think, Bakugou?” No response. “Bakugou?”

Katsuki muttered something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“I said he told me he wanted me to stay,” Katsuki repeated, voice breaking. “He did. I— I thought he… I thought he meant it.”

Oh. Oh, Katsuki realized. That was the core of the heartbreak.

His Alpha was curled in a pitiful ball in a corner, whining, because it felt unwanted. Katsuki was unwanted, in sober Deku's mind. The only chance that Deku would want him around was when Deku was out of his mind. Any other time, Katsuki was just a nuisance to him. An eye sore. A reminder of the most horrible time of his life.

And he fully, completely deserved nothing else.

Katsuki gripped his shirt over his chest, feeling his drumming heartbeat, cursing it. Wishing it would just explode already because even with that revelation, with that understanding that he really had no right to entertain anything beyond rejection, it still cried and kicked and screamed. It still yearned. It still wanted to hope.

His heart was still selfish. Katsuki was selfish, and he hated it, but he wanted Deku so much to want him. He understood that he had to atone for his sins no matter what, to be there for his family, for his son, for Deku, even if he would never get a place in that house — but he also wished that Deku would somehow, maybe, forgive him.

He hated himself for still having that hope. He didn't want to put that kind of pressure on his ex mate, consciously or unconsciously. He would rather fucking tear himself apart than to corner Deku into forgiving him.

Was that what he was doing to him now? Cornering him?

Oh, god.

“No, no, come back to us, Kats.” Kirishima slapped his arm a couple of times. “Whatever deep hole you're sinking into, get out of it. Come on. Talk to us.”

“Yeah, we're here for ya, bro,” Kaminari said, squeezing his knee, anchoring him. “What's the matter? You went pale all of a sudden.”

“Shit.” Katsuki dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don't… I don't know what to do. I don't wanna hurt him. God, not again. Please, not again…”

“Why would you be hurting him?”

Katsuki opened and closed his mouth several times, not knowing where the start and end, but settling with, “I don't want him to think he has to forgive me.”

At that, his friends scratched their heads. Katsuki understood that they would be stumped, considering that they'd never even met him before. That made him briefly wonder about Deku's friends, and if he even had any, and he was spared from falling into that rabbit hole when Kaminari said, “From what you've been telling us, he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Maybe you can trust him with his own judgment.”

“Yeah, well.” Katsuki smiled fondly at the memory of the nerd screaming his head off at any little fuck up that he did. That time at the elevator, too. “He does know when to put me in my place.” His smile slowly dropped. “But still. He shouldn't have to in the first place.”

“I just want him so fucking badly and it scares me,” Katsuki continued, his heart beating on his open chest.

“Aw, Kats,” Ashido rubbed his arm. “I've never seen you be so lovesick. It's kind of cute, in a way. I wish we were still in high school!”

“When we were in high school, I was changing my son's diapers and catching plates from my ex every weekend.”

“Yeah, m’still processing that cuz holy shit,” Kirishima whispered, with Sero and Kaminari nodding along.

“Maybe give him some time,” Ashido suggested. “I’m sure it'll be okay eventually. It's only been a day.”

Time, huh. What did Deku say about time, before? He was happy because he had more time on his hands? His brain was a little foggy, too focused on that pine scent and the nose barely touching his.

Katsuki sighed. “Fine. I'll… probably see him sometime next week anyway.”

“There ya go!” Kaminari slapped Katsuki's leg enthusiastically. “It'll be fine! You'll see! Come on, we should hang out to get your mind off it for awhile!”

“You were fucking waiting to say that all day, weren't you, stupid Pikachu?”

“Come onnn!” Kaminari grabbed his arm, trying and failing to haul the bigger blond off his ass. “It's a Sunday! And you're all sad! It's the perfect day for us to do something fun!”

“Science does say that going outside significantly improves one's mental health,” Sero concurred sagely.

“Uuughh.” Katsuki rolled his eyes but, deep down, though he would rather chew his own tongue and spit it out than admit it to damn Kaminari, he was thankful that they were there to literally and figuratively lift him up. He was thankful he found them when he did. They anchored him. “Alright, alright, fuckin get your grubby hands offa me. At least fucking let me change.”

His friends cheered.

Katsuki snorted in the middle of washing his face of the tears and snot. Yeah, he thought. He was damn lucky to have them.

Now, he just had to deal with his feelings with Deku. Give him a little space, as they said.

He just hoped his mutt of an Alpha wouldn't dramatically die in the process.

Whatever. He'll see him in a few days. It'll be fine.

Katsuki turned off the faucet and paused at his reflection — dull, frowning, looking like he'd lost his way.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “It’ll be fine ,” he told himself, over and over and over again, wishing it could mean something to him.

Izuku was panting harshly, exhausted but determined to reach that high. His whimpers and moans filled the room, his legs worked overtime to bounce on and off his boyfriend’s dick.

Neito threw his head back, barely able to do anything besides lay there and hold Izuku’s hands to balance him. “Fuck, baby— fuck—”

“Do I feel good?” Izuku asked, tears and sweat in his eyes. He switched his harsh riding to quick, dirty rolls of his hips, earning a throaty rumble from the man under him. “Do I?”

“So good.” Neito nodded. He let go of Deku’s hands to grip his hips, holding on for dear life. “Oh my god, babe, what's gotten into you to—”

Izuku stopped him with a deep kiss, licking and biting those lips until they brokenly whispered his name.

“I'm close,” Izuku said, crying, riding him desperately. “God, I'm gonna come.”

Neito made a move to roll them over. “Yeah, baby, let me—”

Izuku growled and pinned his shoulders flat on the bed. He bared his teeth at him. “ Stay ,” he hissed. Izuku didn't know what kind of face Neito made at that because he screwed his eyes shut and moaned through the waves of orgasm. 

Fuck.

Fuck .

Fuck, it still wasn't… it still wasn't enough to make everything go away.

Izuku sobbed, frustrated with his body, his heart, his entire existence. He thought having sex would make him feel something , or more accurately make him not feel everything , but it didn't, and now he was crying again and god he was so hopeless, so fucking useless.

A soft hand tilted his head, rubbing the tear tracks off his skin.

“Sweetheart?”

Izuku sniffled. He looked down and saw his boyfriend, blond hair disheveled on the pillow, struggling to catch his breath. Izuku had to blink a few times to stop himself from seeing red eyes instead of blue.

“You okay?” He asked. “Overstimulated?”

“Um.” Izuku cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess so. It was just intense.”

“Mm.” Neito sat up and caught his mouth in a brief kiss. “You can say that again, babe. I think my legs are gonna need a couple days to revive themselves,” he joked.

Through his mounting shame and anxiety, Izuku snorted. He hid his face in the other's neck, desperately inhaling the scent of tangerine and lime. 

It's not the right scent.

Izuku whined, inhaling deeper, holding him tighter.

Neito held him, too, and whispered nice things into his ear.

This. This felt nice.

But it's not the same.

Shut up. Please, shut up.

Neito pulled away a little and kissed his wet eyes. “Still need a minute, Zu?”

The Omega sniffled but shook his head. “No, I'm fine,” he said. “I just need to, um, shower first.”

“I can join you,” Neito flirted, nipping at his scent gland, making Izuku sigh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They did it again in the shower. After they finished, Izuku still felt like he wanted to claw his own skin off, but at least the tattered bits of him would smell like nice soap.

They peeked into the spare bedroom where little Toshi had crashed for an afternoon nap. The pup was sound asleep, mouth wide open in a big snore. Izuku giggled quietly before closing the door.

“He's so cute,” Neito cooed.

“I know.” Izuku smiled up at him. “I'm sorry I jumped your bones the minute he went in there.”

“Oh, by all means!” Neito enthusiastically gestured to himself. “This body is made to be jumped! Absolutely no complaints! Ten outta ten experience, would want to get jumped repeatedly again!”

Izuku outright laughed and smacked his arm good-naturedly. “You're such a dork,” he said.

Neito pulled him in for a dramatic kiss on his cheek. “I'm your dork, my lovely Omega,” he purred.

Izuku gazed at him.

His eyes are the wrong color.

Shut the HELL up.

Izuku feigned a cough so he could squirm away from the other's close hold.

This wasn't right. Oh, god, nothing was right. Izuku was going to lose his mind.

Why, why, why, did he have to wake up in his ex’s scent. Why didn't he put it in his laundry. Why did he shove it into his closet like a secret. Why did he still crave it, even though he'd literally just had good dick from another perfectly good Alpha? Holy shit, Izuku, you are pathetic, he thought. Useless. Low. Absolutely—

“You're doing it again, Zu.”

Izuku jumped. “Huh?”

Neito gently nuzzled their noses together. He pumped more of his scent out, wrapping Izuku in it lightly like a scarf. The greenette blushed and melted against him.

“You were drifting,” Neito said. “What's up?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm sorry, I just…” Izuku wrapped his arms around his waist, his cheek on the other's shoulder. He sighed when Neito rubbed his back in return. “It's just… the anxiety. The usual. I don't wanna talk about it right now.”

“Okay. S’just that you've been really off all day. Was just wondering if you'd like to share something.”

“I know.” Izuku sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“Aw, baby, it's okay.” Neito kissed his head. “I'm right here. We can get some snacks ready for when Toshi wakes up, hmm? I'm sure he won't notice if we munch on a few of ‘em.”

Izuku laughed, the sound muffled in his shirt. “Just make sure we get rid of the evidence.”

“Sir, yessir.”

While they prepared some chips and dip for the evening, Izuku's mind wandered again. He thought about Bakugou, his text, his voice from last night, his words that he couldn't remember, his comforting, barely-there touch that he somehow did remember.

God, it could've been a dream, which made his head ache even worse because he couldn't know for sure if his shitty ex had really leaned in so close, if Izuku himself really reciprocated his touch with a hand above his, and if Bakugou really trembled while he touched his nose to his hand like he was scared to lose him.

If it was just his mind playing tricks, then he really wished the earth would swallow him whole. If it was real, then, Izuku kind of wished the same thing but for different reasons.

In either scenario, how was he going to go through his days knowing that he yearned for it?

How was he going to face the reality of their relationship now, in the face of its metamorphosis?

Because whether yesterday night was a dream or real life, things were changing, and he had no idea what to do. He told Bakugou as much, that he remembered, told him how his kindness unnerved him because he wasn't used to its rhythm, despite having basked in it in a distant time. And Bakugou just took it in stride and… continued being kind.

Izuku grimaced.

Neito kissed his cheek, the easy grin on his face slowly curving into a frown. “Hey,” he said. “If you'd like to just go home and rest, that's okay, too, you know.”

“No,” Izuku quickly said. “No, I'm sorry. I do this so often, I get all up in my head all the time, and it's ruined a lot of things.”

“I get it. Not that it's the same thing, but I was so full of myself back in high school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Back then, I just indulged way too much in my own thoughts and fantasies that I slipped away from what was in front of me a lot.”

“How'd you stop?”

“Mmm…” Neito raised his gaze in thought. “I guess a few life-or-death situations as a hero kinda made me do a few reality checks.”

“Oh really?” Izuku giggled. “Life flashed before your eyes and everything?”

“Yep. The cringe of it was so intense that I just decided I had dial it down a little.”

Izuku laughed.

I wonder if Bakugou’s life flashed before his eyes, would I be in it? 

Would it be a good thing, remembering me?

Fuck.

GET IT TOGETHER.

“Fuck, I'm doing it again.”

“Did something happen with your ex?”

Izuku froze. All breath left his lungs and dread as heavy lead filled it.

Neito arranged and re-arranged the little bowls of dips. His scent wavered, turning more sour than usual. “Sorry,” he started gently. “I don't mean it as an attack, baby, I swear. It's just… been on my mind, since you got here all agitated and so eager for, um, attention from me. I know you have history, but I'm your boyfriend, and I just thought I'd… ask.” Neito looked away and stopped fiddling with the food. “Never mind. I'm sorry, I'm just… new to this, and I don't really know how to go about it.”

Izuku understood, he really did. He and Neito were the same age, and it was already a huge leap for Neito to date a single mother like him. That must be incredibly new and daunting and confusing to navigate, much less as a fresh twenty-year-old, and Izuku felt awful for having these conflicting feelings for Bakugou when Neito was so great for him. He wasn't being fair to Neito.

“No, don't apologize.” Izuku kissed his cheek. “It's… as you said. Some shitty thing happened, yeah. I'm still… figuring it out so I don't know how I can talk to you about it yet. But I promise it's nothing too bad, and I'm just confused more than anything. I'm sorry for making you worry.”

His lips curled once more into a small smile. “Okay,” Neito said. “Just talk to me whenever you need to, okay? I can beat him up for you.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “You don't even know if he's bigger than you or not.”

“That doesn't matter! I'll just copy whatever dumb Quirk they have and serve justice for my lover. I guarantee you I'll use it even better than they ever did!”

“Uh-huh. Thought you got over your big head from high school.”

“I said I dialed it down, never said it was gone, babe.”

“Hmm.” Izuku kissed him sweetly. “That's good, because you're real funny with it.”

“Laughter is the best remedy, isn't it?” Neito kissed him back and tucked a stray curl behind his ear. “You're safe here, Zu. Everything's gonna be okay.”

Izuku wished those words could mean something to him. He'd heard them too often, growing up, and he was numb to it. But, still, he appreciated the sentiment behind them. He smiled up at the blond.

“Mama.”

Both of them turned to see a slightly sleepy, bedheaded little Toshi. The pup was scratching his stomach and rubbing his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” Izuku kneeled in front of him, his smile turning a lot more genuine at the sight of his gem. He bumped his nose into the other's temple. “Sleep well?”

Toshi shook his head.

“Nightmare?”

The little one sniffled. “Yeah.”

“Oh, I see.” Izuku rubbed his chubby cheeks with his thumbs, and Toshi opened his eyes. 

Red eyes.

The exact same shade.

Izuku kissed his forehead. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I'm here. Everything’s okay.”

Everything’s okay.

Everything's. Okay.

Over and over. Until it could mean something for all of them.

Chapter Text

“Oi. Come in, Deku.”

Static.

Katsuki pressed the button of his walkie-talkie again. “ Oi . Shitty nerd. You copy or what?”

It took so long for the nerd to give him a reply that Katsuki clicked his tongue and grabbed his phone.

[Sent]: Deku you fuck. Did you hear me or not?

The text came surprisingly fast.

Nerd: Hey Kacchan. Sorry, I didn’t. What’s up?

[Sent]: the fuck you mean you didn’t. Say something.

Nerd: I am?? I’m texting you??

[Sent]: fucker I meant the walkie talkie.

Nerd: Kacchan… we have phones now.

Katsuki called him. The nerd declined it.

Nerd: KACCHAN??

Katsuki grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Deku,” he said. “Come on.”

It took a minute, but there was finally a voice calling back to him, “Kacchan.” It was followed by a bewildered chuckle. “What is up with you, huh? If you miss me, just say that.”

“I miss you,” Katsuki said easily. Shame that it was a walkie-talkie so he couldn’t relish in the squeak he knew for a fact Deku let out. A few seconds later, Deku pressed the button and started talking again.

“I am not sneaking out to yours tonight,” he said. “Not when mom caught me yesterday. She’s gonna be waiting for me downstairs, I just know it.”

“Pussy.” Katsuki huffed, then paused. “Oi, nerd. You okay?”

“Hmm? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You sound off.”

“Off?” Deku let out a huff, no doubt a stumped grin on his face. “What do you mean?”

Katsuki called him on his phone again. When Deku didn’t immediately pick up, Katsuki pressed the button of his walkie-talkie. “Babe?” He prodded gently.

Finally, Deku picked up the phone. “Kacchan.” His boyfriend’s voice filtered through without the static of the old walkie-talkie, clear but not as bright as Katsuki knew. Other people would say he sounded the same, but Katsuki wasn’t other people — he’d known something was wrong with him since they went home together from school. It was the way his fingers hadn’t fully curled over his when they held hands. It was the way the corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle as deeply when he laughed.

Though any other asshole couldn’t tell, Katsuki knew his Omega was sad.

“What’s the matter, huh?” Katsuki asked, voice low.

Izuku sighed. He pictured that he’d successfully punched a hole in that shitty front Deku had no business putting up for him. “I should be terrified that you caught on so quick, you know,” Izuku started humorously. “Like, I was trying so hard to hide it — how’d you even know?”

“‘Course I know. You think I’m stupid? Fucker.”

“Ugh.” A bit of a rustle; he probably turned over or brought up his blanket. “It’s…” He sighed, long, the exhaustion suddenly evident. “God, what’s even new, right? Just some stupid bullies.”

“I fucking knew it. Tell me who.”

“You know I’m not gonna drop any names, you delinquent.”

“I have fucking straight As you dipshit and also fuck you.”

Izuku laughed, and it sounded genuine this time. But it didn’t last long. His voice took a dip, the cadence dropping to a low murmur. “I’m happy you asked me out,” he started. “You know that, right?”

Slightly taken aback by the weird question, Katsuki could only hum. It'd barely been a week since they officially started dating, but Katsuki was without a doubt the happiest he'd ever been. 

“It's just… ugh, it's so stupid, but just some guys said some… mean things. Well, mean-er things, I guess.”

A growl slipped through his teeth. “Elaborate.”

Deku paused. “They said, um. They called me a— a slut.”

Katsuki kicked off his blanket and grabbed his shoes from under his desk.

“Kacchan, I can hear you. Please, it's not a big deal—”

“It is !” Katsuki slammed his shoes down. “How fucking dare they say that to you! Fuck!”

“They kind of just whispered it behind my back, they didn't actually get up in my face like they used to — thanks to you, of course — but really it's nothing too serious for you to sneak out and get grounded again.”

“Fuck it isn't.” Katsuki put the phone on speaker as he started putting on socks. “You being sad like this already warrants me going over there.”

“As I said, I just know mom’s waiting for either one of us.”

A minute later, Katsuki was knocking on his parents’ door. “Brat?” His sire called out.

Deku, still on speaker, stammered in shock. “K-K-Kacchan?”

Mitsuki opened the door. Her eyes scanned him up and down, surprise and worry coloring her face. “Katsuki, what's the matter?”

“Ma, I gotta go to Deku’s.”

“Kacchan!”

“Huh? For what? Look, I know you guys are dating now and the honeymoon phase is—”

“Ma,” Katsuki said firmly. “Someone called Deku a slut at school.”

The voice on his phone whined but said nothing. On the other hand, Mitsuki’s expression darkened. “What?” She whispered. “Izuku, honey, is that true?”

“What is, honey?” Masaru approached the door.

“Someone called Izuku a slut at school.”

Masaru gasped, his usually calm and steady demeanor turning furious. “Does his mother know about this? Do the teachers?”

“A-Auntie, Uncle, it's really not a big deal…”

Sensing his Omega was feeling cornered and distressed, Katsuki stepped in. “Ma, Pa, I just wanna go to Deku’s,” he said. “We'll deal with it later, just— can you call Auntie Inko and tell her I'm coming over?”

Mitsuki and Masaru looked at each other, and probably an hour's worth of parent-talk happened in that brief eye contact (barf) until they finally nodded. “I'll call her,” Mitsuki said. “But if you want to sleep in her house, you ask her yourself, brat.”

And Katsuki was off.

Rucksack over his shoulder, Katsuki knocked on the front door of the Midoriya residence. The door swung open quickly, and Katsuki was instantly met with a mess of green curls crashing into him.

“Oi, Dek—”

Deku embraced him tightly. His scent took on a potent bitterness. Katsuki softened and wrapped his own arms around him. Rubbing the side of their necks together, Katsuki scented his Omega, urging him to settle down. The smell of caramel eaten on a rainy day gently enveloped them.

“Hi, Katsuki,” Inko said, the usual cheery lilt of her voice dampened by heartbreak — Mitsuki must’ve told her. “Thank you for coming, dear.”

“Auntie,” Katsuki greeted from over Deku’s shoulder. “Can I, um— If it’s okay with you—”

Inko smiled warmly. “Sure, hun.”

A few minutes later, the two boys laid in bed. In the darkness, Katsuki combed through his boyfriend’s hair with his fingers, ran his other hand up and down his spine, felt the knobs of his bones, the trembling skin as Deku bit back bitter sobs.

“Deku,” Katsuki said against his temple, his own eyes wet. “Fuck, I love you. You got that, you stupid shit? They can go to fuckin’ hell. I love you, okay?”

Deku nodded mutely, but he felt the brief kiss, the cold smear of his tears, against his neck. Katsuki held him tighter.

“I’ll take care of you, Deku. I promise.”

Denki was so getting laid tonight.

Not to brag and shit, but even though he wasn't one of the ultra baddie genders like Alpha or Omega that got to be freaky 24/7 in society, he was getting around hella nicely, thank youuu very much.

(His friends would have a few things to say about that but they aren't here right now unfortunately.)

Anyway , last week he'd hit up Shinsou for a coffee date, and the (super hot super mysterious WOOF WOOF) underground hero agreed!! They'd been friends since their UA days, which was a feat because Shinsou had originally been in the general studies department. The guy had been a beast during their sports festival in first year, insane actually, though he got beat by Bakugou in the one-on-one (BUT HE LOOKED GOOD LOSING OK). Needless to say, Kaminari had the fattest crush (though he’d also had a crush on Jirou aka the super hot super mysterious guitarist emo girl in his class) (oh shit he had a type). Long story short, the teachers had seen Shinsou’s potential, trained the fuck outta him, and eventually Shinsou clawed his way to transferring into the hero course — in the same class as Denki! The gods were literally saying they needed to bang.

(They did not bang.)

(Shinsou kept rejecting him.)

But shit was fiiine, they were adults now (barely), and they still went on dates (hung out) from time to time.

Speaking of which, after a hard day at work, Denki was on his way to Sweet Ultra Pancakes, a cozy diner Shinsou had recommended. When the little bell above the door chimed upon his entrance, Denki was immediately hit in the face with the aroma of fried chicken and sweet syrupy waffles.

And, hellooo, sitting in a booth in the corner was Shinsou Hitoshi. He was wearing a black mask over his face, his unruly lavender hair tied back in a messy bun behind his head, but Denki could recognize those sleepy eyes anywhere. When they romantically locked eyes from across the room, Shinsoue gave him a curt wave. Hypothetical tail wagging behind him, Denki made his cheery way over.

And nearly crashed into one of the waiters in his haste.

“Whoa!” Reflexes on fucking point, Denki caught the dirty plates before they could crash onto the floor. Holy fuck he was Spiderman or some shit. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, I’m so sorry!” He wheezed, his voice cracking. “Shit, uhh, are you okay?”

“Oh!”

Denki stared. Blinked. 

Oh, shit.

The waiter had paused for a second upon the collision, but he heaved a sigh of relief as he smiled wobbly at Denki. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry, too, sir,” the Midoriya Izuku said, all nervous and sheepish. “I’m fine, I’m fine, it was my fault. Oh, no, your hands are dirty. Ah, let me take those plates from you. A-And let me get you some napkins, sir. Um, where are you sitting? I’ll bring them over in a second.”

“Uhh.”

Okay, okay, be cool Denki!! You unexpectedly ran into the baby mama of one of your bros! The baby mama who didn’t know that you knew he was a baby mama! And he was an absolute cutie! It was a good thing you were loyal to the bro code and also a bottom because otherwise you’d fold so fast for those big green eyes! But this was the baby mama of one of your bros!! Ahhhh!!!

(All of this was going through his head as he just stared wide-eyed at Midoriya.)

At the lack of an intelligent response, Midoriya stared at him until his own eyes widened. “Oh!” He gasped. “C-Chargebolt! Hi, I didn’t recognize you for a second there! Um, I don’t know if you recognize me or not, but I’m Midoriya, from the daycare. We’re working together for the event?”

“Uhh—” Denki’s voice suddenly cracked super badly and he had to cough to cover it up (the cough didn’t cover shit). “I— Yeah! Yeah, totally remember you! Totally! Wow, uhh, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Me, neither.” Midoriya laughed politely. “Have a seat, Chargebolt, I’ll bring you the menu and those napkins.”

Nodding and bending his torso multiple times as the last of his apologies left his nervous mouth, Denki finally took a seat across from a very awake, very curious Shinsou.

“Wow, you sure know how to make an entrance,” Shinsou said, all deep voice and oooohhh okay Denki’s buzzing mind was slowly melting now. Fuck, he kept telling this guy to do boyfriend ASMRs to get that fat money, but Shinsou was so weird and couldn’t understand the prospect!

“Haha, yeah,” came Denki’s rickety reply, his chin in his hand and a dopey smile on his face. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

“S’more your speed, I suppose,” Shinsou said, the corners of his eyes crinkling, indicating a grin behind that mask of his. “Anyway, you know Midoriya?”

Denki shot up in his seat. “ You know Midoriya?” He exclaimed. “How?”

“I asked you first, Sparky.”

“He’s one of the moms in the daycare that me and the others are working with. For that charity fun event thingy I told you about.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not a charity event but okay.” Shinsou hooked a finger over his mask, pulled it down to expose his whole face (hhhh hot damn) and took a sip of his coffee. “Well, I'm a regular here, so.”

“You guys friends?”

Just before he could say anything, Midoriya came with a menu, a plate of napkins, and a big smile. “Oh, Chargebolt, you're friends with Shinsou!” He said, the customer-service voice slipping off to reveal genuine glee, his grin reaching his sparkling eyes. “I didn't know you worked together! I thought you were in different agencies?”

“Kaminari’s fine!” Denki laughed, relieved to see the other starting to let loose. But then, something dinged in his head. “Uh, wait, how did you know we don't work together?”

And as quick as a coin toss, the ease in Midoriya’s shoulder hardened to stiffness, and his face blew up cherry red. Shinsou, on the other hand, suspiciously hid a snicker behind his hand.

“Uhh!” Midoriya squeaked. “I-I-I uhh, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make that sound so stalker-ish! Oh god, not to say I'm an actual stalker, I just— I mean, I follow heroes around a lot because I admire them, I've always jotted down all of their gears and moves and Quirks in my notebooks since I was little, and I know you too and I know from the news where you work and Shinsou is a regular and he told me where he works and I just remember and oh my god that all sounds exactly stalker-ish, I am so sorry, I'll have my colleague wait your table if you'll excuse me—”

“Midoriya.” It was Shinsou who stopped him, an amused, lazy grin on his face. “Chill. It's okay.”

“Y-Yeah!” Blinking out of his surprise from how much of a chatterbox this guy actually was, Denki flashed his own easy grin. “I didn't mean it in a bad way, I promise! And, I liked watching heroes on the streets too when I was younger! I totally get you. It's impressive that you remember so much though!”

“Haha,” Midoriya coughed up an awkward laugh. Service workers typically had to wear scent blockers so Denki couldn't tell what he was feeling, but at least he wasn't running away, so that was good, right? Still, he pumped out a little bit of his own scent, laced with comfort and soft friendliness, to let the other know that it was safe. At that, Midoriya visibly relaxed. 

“Phew, okay.” Midoriya took a breath. “God, that was a messy first impression, wasn't it?”

“Meh, not as bad as crashing into you,” Kaminari said, which made Midoriya giggle. “You're fine, man.”

“Thank you. Should I give you some time to look at the menu first? We have a special on chicken and waffles today!”

“Oh shit, that sounds good! And some coffee, please.”

“Coming right up!”

“Don't you have a date after this?” Shinsou suddenly asked Midoriya, laughing at the other's scandalized gasp and playful hit on his shoulder.

“Shush!” He said, another kind of blush flooding his face. “Ugh, you're so embarrassing.”

“Just reminding you so you don't take overtime just to entertain this clown.”

“Hey!” Denki protested.

“I won't, I won't. And Charge— Uh, Kaminari-san, don't mind him, I don't think you're a clown.”

“That's probably the nicest thing someone's said to me all day.” Denki sent a side-long glance at his date, who in turn rolled his eyes. After Midoriya left, Denki continued, “You guys seem close.”

“If you start telling me that you're jealous, I'm crashing through this window.”

“Dude! My god. Was just gonna say that it's nice, asshole.”

“Hmm?” Shinsou tilted his head. “Why's that?”

“Uh.” He couldn't say that he was happy that his best friend's baby mama had friends, right? “S’just. Nice. Shut up.”

Shinsou raised his eyebrow, paused for just a split second too long, but finally shrugged. “Yeah, I’d say we’re friends. We both like All Might a lot. He saw my keychain and we goofed around until his manager told him to bring my order to the kitchen already.”

Kaminari laughed, images of classrooms, comic books, and hesitant smiles finally reaching droopy eyes coming up in his mind. “Could say that it's sort of your trump card to making friends, huh.”

Shinsou scoffed, but his eyes met Kaminari's over the rim of his coffee cup, a glint of light shining in the middle of the smoke of his irises. “That, and also chatty nerds like to talk to me for some reason.”

“Hmm.” Kaminari's crossed his legs, the tip of his shoe brushing along Shinsou’s jeans, his coy smile half-hidden behind the heel of his palm. “I wonder which one of us likes you enough to ask you to do something… other than chatting.”

Shinsou tilted his head, his hair falling over his eyes, and the unmistakable scent of interest wafted through Denki's nose. Even though his scent wasn't so potent since he was a Beta, it still made Denki absolutely dizzy and red and suddenly nervous.

The wild-haired hero leaned in with his elbows on the table. His long, slender fingers drifted up the length of Denki’s propped-up arm, sending goosebumps in their wake, until they curved under Denki's chin.

And, oh, the purr that rumbled in Denki's throat. Eyes half-lidded and littered with hearts, Denki melted in the elusive man’s touch—

“Okay, here's your coffee Charge— oh.”

“Ah!”

Denki and Shinsou sprung away from each other, coughing and looking at random spots on the window and tabletop, and Midoriya looked like he'd love to be anywhere but within a hundred-meter radius of them. 

“I—” Midoriya quickly put the cup on the table. “S-Sorry! Enjoy!” And he power walked away, leaving behind a trail of incoherent muttered words.

“I can't ever come back here, oh my god,” Denki whined, his face burning behind his hand.

“Well,” Shinsou shrugged, put his mask up to hide the blush on his cheeks, but the tips of his ears were a pretty pink. “I can't say the same because their chicken is really fuckin’ good.” The other snorted briefly. “Anyway, you're fine, s’not like it's your first time.”

Denki huffed. Under the whir of the fans overhead, he mumbled, “My first time with you, though.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Shinsou cleared his throat. “Uhh. Anyway. I'm also waiting for Monoma.”

Denki's heart deflated at that. “Oh,” he whispered. Monoma and Shinsou kinda had a thing, probably, maybe, in high school, as far as Kaminari could tell. They never officially dated, but the way their classes teased them and pushed them together to team up all the time kinda clued him in. That, and the fact that they were working under the same agency.

It must've been something in his expression, or the bitter shift in his scent, but Shinsou furrowed his brows at him. “Hey,” he said. “I'm. I'm sorry, I guess I should've asked. He comes by here a lot too and I was just—”

“No!” Kaminari said way too quickly, waving his hands way too energetically. “Noooo, no, no, no, I don't care! I mean I— well. I mean. L-Like I said, it's good that you're socializing more! I don't care who it is, not at all!”

“Kami…”

Denki stood up and awkwardly searched his pockets for some cash. “I-I gotta go too, actually, so no worries.”

At that, Shinsou stood up too, eyes wide. “Hey, come on, man, s’not what you think. Monoma and I are just friends. He's literally—” Then, he stopped, looking like he'd just licked a lemon.

“He's literally what?”

“Fuck.” Shinsou pushed back the fallen strands of hair on his face. “It's… It's private, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. But really, he was just coming by to eat, we do that a lot.”

It was Denki's turn to make a face. “A lot,” he repeated, head heavy with the idea of them together on this very same table, joking around more naturally, more witty and with more chemistry. 

At that, Shinsou sighed heavily, and that sort of broke Denki's heart. Before Shinsou could say anything else, Denki dumped some cash that he genuinely didn't know was too much or too little, and left.

But in his haste, he nearly ran into poor Midoriya again.

“Wahh!” Midoriya hit the brakes just in time, eyes wide and nose scrunching a little at the increasingly sour scent around Denki. “Ah, C-Chargebolt, Kaminari-san, I'm sorry again. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, uh.” Denki could hear Shinsou behind him. “Sorry, Midoriya, but I gotta go. Something came up.”

“Oh. Is everything… okay?”

Denki shrugged but offered a crooked grin anyway. “This happens sometimes, don't worry,” he said. Just as he said this, a hand held him by the shoulder.

“Kami,” Shinsou said, his breath tickling his ear and, fuck, Denki hated how that still made him stop and blush. But, Midoriya’s eyes were flicking between him and Shinsou, and Denki suddenly felt embarrassed to be— to be rejected (no, not rejected, fuck) and being seen, so he shrugged off Shinsou's hand and made a beeline for the door.

And then bumped into fucking Monoma Neito.

“Mother fucker ,” Denki hissed, rubbing his nose that had smacked right into the other’s chest.

“Hey, chill the fuck— Oh. Kaminari?”

COMPETITION. COMPETITION. COMPETITION.

Okayyyy, whooaaa, his Beta usually shutted the fuck up actually, and Betas didn't really have loud internal voices from their secondary gender wolf thing, sooo this was giving him a bit of a headache.

“Yeah, hey, man,” he said quickly, no eye contact, a little bit of a shove, and walked out the door.

When the chilly air hit him, and the streetlight outside made his shadow long and dark on the pavement, he looked back. Through the glass, he could see Monoma, Shinsou, and Midoriya standing near the door, chatting. Shinsou looked over Monoma’s shoulder and saw him staring, and their eyes met for what felt like years of tug of war (god, it was). The rope slipped through his calloused fingers when Shinsou made a move to circle around Monoma, and he turned and walked away.

Denki just missed the way Monoma had stepped aside and wrapped an arm around Midoriya’s waist.

“Shit, he left,” Shinsou muttered, eyes locked on Kaminari's retreating form.

“Trouble in paradise?” Neito teased, but Izuku pinched his side, making him wince.

“Don't be mean, babe,” Izuku chastised. He switched his attention to his friend, grimacing. “Was it because I interrupted? I am so sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“Midoriya, it wasn't. Really.” Shinsou sighed behind his mask and raked his hand through his hair. “I dunno. I think I screwed up. Was supposed to be, I dunno, a date I guess, and I didn't mention that I'd be meeting this asshole too, so it got awkward.”

“Dude.”

“I thought it was supposed to be casual! Shit’s always been casual with him.”

Izuku coughed. “Didn't seem like it was.”

Neito coughed along. “It never has been.”

Shinsou glared, unimpressed. “Fuck the both of you.”

“Well, I still have a plate of food for your table.” Izuku ushered them back to the booth. “Still wanna eat it or should I pack them up in case you wanna mope some more?”

Shinsou and Neito sat together, squabbling as they usually did, but the friendly bickering made Izuku laugh. That was pretty much how Izuku met his boyfriend — Shinsou came here often, and, dare Izuku say it (please, lord, let him say it), Shinsou became his friend. It was a couple of months into the friendship that Shinsou came in with Neito. The two heroes had sat here, and Izuku couldn't stop looking over at the head of blond hair and the quick-witted remarks and the voice that was too loud for indoors. The best part was Neito was looking at him, too. After an elbow bump from Shinsou, Neito had asked for his number, and the dinners and sex and giddiness came pouring in.

Speaking of which.

“Ready for tonight, sweetheart?” Neito huffed against his neck, his hands wandering to his hips, his stomach, under his apron.

“Mmfh.” Izuku’s head fell to the side, letting the other kiss up his jaw. He opened his eyes and saw themselves in the bathroom mirror — Neito towering over him, his blue eyes nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils, watching him — Izuku’s face flushed, clothes hiked up at the hips. Izuku whined and turned his head to catch the man in a dizzy kiss. 

“We gotta,” Izuku gasped. “Get out of here soon.”

“Hmm.” It was Neito’s turn to make liquidy, dreamy noises. “One of these days, we really might just do it on this godforsaken sink.”

“Is that a promise?”

Neito nipped his ear, eliciting a squeal from Izuku.

They righted their clothes for a minute, occasionally distracted with a kiss here and there, but eventually came out the door into the empty, cramped hallway.

Neito squeezed his hand. “So, have you decided whether or not you want your ex to come over today?”

Izuku sighed. “I’m still…” He paused. “I… I don’t think I wanna see him right now.”

“You’ve been avoiding him since last weekend. Do you wanna tell me why?”

“No.” When the response came too quickly and loudly, Izuku winced. “I mean. No. I’m sorry. Fuck, it’s just stupid.”

Neito remained quiet.

“Babe?”

“Yeah, um.” A stiff shrug. A kiss on his cheek that strangely held little warmth. “I hope you’ll get a babysitter later then.”

Izuku’s whole body tensed at the other’s flat tone. “Baby, come on…”

“Izuku, it’s fine.” Neito turned his head away, waved his hand in a show of nonchalance that may have looked real if not for Izuku’s mile-a-minute mind. 

His Omega howled in his head — Alpha is mad at me.

Izuku grabbed his boyfriend's sleeve, pressure building in his chest and behind his eyes, invisible weights bending his knees into weak chalk. Neito whipped his head towards him.

“I'm sorry,” Izuku choked out. “I— I-I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“What?” Neito frowned.

Alpha will leave me too.

Memories flashed in his head in scattered, muted colors. Boys in middle school uniforms standing over him while he sat in a pond. A blond man walking out the door. His child wailing in his arms. Screams from a wide, open mouth. Clothes left on the porch, strewn haphazardly. Calls unanswered. Faceless adults telling him he was a whore. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Izuku choked out, eyes unseeing and instead reliving one of the worst days of his life — abandoned by the love of his life. His hands shook uncontrollably as he desperately said, “D-Don’t be mad at me, I swear I'll be good.” A hiccup, and his vision blurred with rapid waters. “I'll be better, I'll explain things better, I promise I'll be good, I-I can please you later, I can lie down and be good and you can knot me, I won't cry, I won't be loud, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—”

Neito hurriedly wrapped his arms around him and led him back inside the bathroom. “Okay, okay, shh, shh,” Neito cooed against his damp temple. Izuku felt the small of his back hit the sink, and he instinctively hopped on to sit and spread his legs for his Alpha, so his Alpha wouldn't be mad and could see he was useful, he swore he could be useful for him—

“No, no, no, come back down, sweetpea.” Neito gently pulled him by the hips so Izuku’s feet could touch the ground again. “We don't gotta do that, okay? Oh, it's okay, sweetheart, shh.”

It felt like his emotions were beating each other with sticks in his chest — happiness took a hit in the head by self-loathing, anxiety had a machine gun and was waving it around in a frenzy, taking down the structure of his ribs along with his peace of mind. His hands shook as they gripped themselves white on cold marble. His face was wet with tears and panicked sweat that were getting into his mouth, flooding it with more salt than coherent words. When Izuku tried to swallow, his throat burned with choked sobs. When Izuku tried to talk, things just broke.

Neito, through the turbulent motions, rubbed his back and rocked them gently. “Settle down, sweetheart.” Lips met Izuku’s sweaty temple. “Settle down now.”

The scent of lemon trees seeped through the glue-stained cracks of Izuku’s defenses. The sourness tickled his nose, almost made him sneeze. Izuku slowly blinked.

Another kiss met his skin, this time on the side of his nose. “Zu,” Neito whispered. “You there?”

Izuku coughed, sniffled. Everything was a blur, literally and figuratively. He was still crying — uncontrollable, as always — and his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest, like it wanted to find another home that was anywhere but inside him. Neito’s scent was warm and inviting, as gentle as any Alpha could emit — but it made the pressure in his throat heavier. Like he was a pup taking his medicine but the odd taste made it so hard to swallow. He wished it was more like sweet caramels.

But, nevertheless, the arms around his body and the rumbling against his chest eased him down to earth. When he took in a breath, his lungs expanded, his body pushed against the tightness of his skin, testing it, finding that it wasn’t ripping at the seams.

“I’m,” Izuku choked. “Sorry.”

Neito paused, a quiet breath leaving his nose. “You say that too much.” He chuckled, though the words lacked his usual humor. “Are you okay now?”

Though hesitant, Izuku nodded. “I think so.”

“What happened?”

Everything, all at once. Izuku stared at nothing. His emotions weren't rapid, unforgiving currents anymore, but they'd left their damage; Izuku had been washed ashore, spared from drowning, but his body was still swollen and bruised. “I…” He started, but the next words couldn’t come, not naturally, not in the right way. He tried desperately to form them himself. “I just… freaked out. I thought you were mad at me. I panicked.”

Neito hummed, but Izuku didn’t know what that meant. When he looked up, the other’s expression was unreadable, his blue eyes also staring at something far away, at nothing. “Why did you think I was mad?” He suddenly asked.

“Well, I… I thought…”

“Mm?”

Izuku paused. “Are you actually mad?” He whispered, barely a breath.

This time, when Neito sighed, it was crystal clear, rattled Izuku so bad that he flinched away from their embrace. 

“It’s—” Neito raked a hand through his hair. A deep, frustrated line slashed the space between his eyebrows. “Izuku, do you know how tiring it gets whenever you just brush me off and tell me it’s nothing when there’s clearly something with your ex?” He said, the words rushing out. “I try, Izuku, I swear, but it’s— It’s getting old, and my Alpha is just screaming in my head whenever you’re so secretive, and it’s like it wants to fight for you but I have no idea who the fuck my opponent is, if I’m even supposed to have one.”

Izuku stared, stunned. “Oh, honey, I’m—” Izuku cradled the other’s face in his hands, but Neito’s gaze avoided him. Guilt, anxiety, and confusion flooded Izuku’s body, made him tremble, though he didn’t know if Neito noticed with his scent blockers keeping it all inside his body. Could his lover ever know? Could he ever understand what all this turmoil did to him? And what about Izuku — how could Izuku have missed this when Neito had no blockers, no walls as high as him? The realization of this made Izuku choke.

“Neito,” Izuku tried. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t realize how this was affecting you…”

“Izuku.” Neito suddenly straightened and looked at him dead in the face. “Tell me, are you still hooking up with your ex?”

Despite himself, heat rushed to his cheeks. “No!” He answered truthfully. “God, Neito, no, I promise I’m not—”

“So, you’re done with him, right?”

Izuku paused.

Neito tilted his head, his eyes taking a sharp, dark glint. “Izuku?” He murmured quietly, but the bass of his voice knocked the wind out of Izuku’s chest.

Izuku stared at his boyfriend. His handsome, sweet, funny Alpha with blond hair soft to the touch and blue eyes that reminded him of the summer sky, though they were now clouded with storms. When Izuku blinked, for a split second, the eyes looking down on him seemed red.

A short, stinging breath left Izuku’s mouth as a scoff, but it was sticky with his building distress. Racking his brain, it didn’t take long to find the answer, which was yes. Yes, he and Bakugou were done. Broken up. Never even mated to begin with, no healing scar on his neck to even prove that they had been anything at all. 

But.

Oh, but.

His heart spun around in his ribcage, refusing to face Neito’s honest inquiry and accusation, deliberately showing its back and hiding its face. If it could crawl to a corner and weep, it would. If it could breathe the name of the stupid Alpha that has haunted it for the past couple of months — or, more precisely, for most of its life — it would.

Though, that was exactly it. If Izuku let his heart, the little thing that implored him to see the good in everything and everyone, to try his best, to trust and love and take in the world in its entirety, lead his every move, Izuku would have been dead a long time ago.

“I hate him,” Izuku finally said, voice round, firm, unshaking. However, his fingers curled into his palm, his nails digging in, willing his heart to stop fucking struggling. Sit down and grow up. “I loved him once, but that shit’s finished. I can barely look at him when he comes over to pick up our son. I can’t even have a civilized conversation with him without us yelling at each other. My old lover is dead, and I’m a different person now, too. So, yes, Neito. I’m done with him.” Gingerly, Izuku got up on his tiptoes and kissed his boyfriend. The other sighed into the kiss and held the back of his head. Izuku whispered against his lips, “And I’m with you now. And you treat me so, so well.”

“Yeah?” Neito chuckled, which loosened the grip of tension around Izuku’s shoulders. When they kissed again, Izuku grinned in relief. “You promise?”

Izuku hummed an affirmative, diving in to kiss him deeper, letting those hands wander over the globes of his ass—

Until the squeak of the door startled them out of each other’s embrace.