Archive of Our Own ^beta

Competition, glory, and representing your country. 

Every four years, the Olympics brings about a worldwide frenzy. Everyone learns about different countries, athletes, and watches to see which countries will emerge victorious. However, the Olympics are never without controversy nor intrigue. Nearly every athlete becomes a topic of conversation, especially the ones who win.

That’s what happened with Bakugou Katsuki. 

Gold medal winner for pistol shooting, he’d made quite the entrance into the world sphere. No one had been paying attention to Japan regarding that event. With only 500 people able to hold a license in the entire country and severe examinations of those people’s private lives, successful athletes are rare. 

Bakugou Katsuki is the outstanding exception. 

But now, he just wants the cameras out of his face. There was no way he wouldn’t have won, but everyone seems to think it was remarkable enough to annoy him over. 

Katsuki glares at the reporter trying to ask him some annoying questions. He wishes they’d stay out of his life and personal business. He’s already won, so why are they still bothering him?

He pushes the microphone out of his face and leaves harshly. He has to be on his best behavior at all times, but these bastards are always bringing the worst out of him. He wants to wring each and every one of their necks. The microphone push was him restraining himself. But he already knows it’s going to blow up unnecessarily. 

When the reporter attempts to chase after him, he shoots a glare at them and they halt in their footsteps. He’s had enough of them prying into his past. 

Katsuki turns the corner and found a small alleyway. It almost seems like a mistake in planning from how narrow it is. Katsuki leans against one of the walls and lets out a deep breath - trying to remember how he’d been taught to do it. The therapy he’d been coerced into proves its helpfulness at times like this. 

Faintly, he hears someone let out a scream. When he looks over, there’s a well-built athlete standing in front of him. He has broad shoulders and a tiny waist. Must be a swimmer or a gymnast, Katsuki figures. They’ve all got that general dorito-shape about them. 

The guy is covering the bottom of his face with his hands and is bright red. He looks embarrassed about something but Katsuki has no idea what. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks like he’s just spent the last hour crying. His eyes are red and puffy and still a bit watery. 

Katsuki can’t help but notice the state of his hands. They’re completely covered in scars. Katsuki can’t imagine what the effects of those are. Still, the scars look pretty damn awesome.

The other person looks confused and finally lowers his hands. It reveals the embroidery on his jacket, reading ‘Midoriya Deku,’ along with the Japanese flag. Katsuki realizes that he must have been talking to him. Immediately, he feels his defenses rise.

“Did you hear me crying?” the crybaby asks in Japanese, looking all the more mortified. Maybe he has no idea that Katsuki can see it clear on his face.

Katsuki weighs his options. He could be honest and say he didn’t, but this kid doesn’t look trustworthy in the slightest, “Do you think you’re important enough for me to care?”

Midoriya looks a bit cowed by this question but not defeated. Instead, he hums a little bit and scratches the back of his head, “I guess you’re right. I haven’t even had my event yet.” 

There’s something about him that bothers Katsuki. He looks like prime target were Katsuki to beat someone up. Maybe Katsuki just wishes he was the one who made him cry. Something about this athlete makes Katsuki want to bother him, “So, what are you crying over in the first place? They run out of your favorite muffin in the cafeteria?”

For some reason, this just makes the guy smile instead. He has one of those smiles that you physically can’t look away from. It’s annoying as hell. He wipes at his eyes a bit more, “Not quite,” he says, “You won gold for pistol shooting, didn’t you? Man, I wish I could handle the reporters like you do,” he says. 

Katsuki is a bit surprised. Most of the time, his interactions with reporters just get him scolded - more severely since he moved back to Japan. “It was those shitty reporters who made you cry then? No surprise there,” the thought makes Katsuki feel all the more defensive. He’s not sure why this stupid kid is making him feel this way. 

“Wow! You’re so intuitive!” Midoriya praises him. Katsuki ignores the lightness in his chest he gets from those words. He already knows he’s the best, he doesn’t need this rando to tell him. “But, yeah. I mean, when I got chosen for the Olympics… I should’ve known! I mean, that this is all they want to talk about. And yeah, I’m happy to share. I think it’s great that more people get to… understand, I guess. But it’s not the only part of me.” he says, holding up his disfigured hands.

“What sport are you?” Katsuki finds himself asking. 

“Gymnastics,” Midoriya says with a resigned tone. He leans against the wall across from Katsuki. It puts them at quite a close proximity. 

That figures. Katsuki’s condition has only stayed under the radar because it doesn’t have to do with his sport.  And despite how everyone said he should open up about it, it’s his own business. He doesn’t owe that to anyone.

He doesn’t need both ears to know that the bullet fired perfectly. He can see the trajectory just fine and always knows when his shot is perfect (it usually is). He doesn’t need both ears to know that he’s completely in control. 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Katsuki asks. 

“What?” the crybaby asks back. 

Katsuki’s starting to think there’s something seriously wrong with his thinking processes at this point, “What are you going to do? Are you going to sit there and listen to their stupid questions and give them stupid answers, or are you going to give them something else to talk about?” he barks at him. Katsuki can’t believe this weirdo is making him connect all the dots like this. Doesn’t he have a brain of his own?

“Oh! You’re right; I’ll take gold!” he says with a bright grin.  And suddenly, it’s like he had never cried to begin with - immediately full of hope and determination.

Katsuki grins. There’s a fire in this guy’s eyes that’s not unlike his own, “Well, we’ll see. Do your best,” he says in lieu of ‘Good Luck’. Katsuki doesn’t believe in anything like luck. But also, he’s pretty sure every other athlete is aiming for the same thing. Luck wouldn’t cut it in the first place. He turns on the ball of his foot and makes to leave the alleyway. 

But suddenly his hand is being grabbed by the crybaby, “Wait! Before you go,” he starts. Katsuki looks back, furrowing his eyebrows when the guy can’t seem to say what he wants to.

“Out with it!” he barks. 

“If I win gold! Will you go out with me? Please!” Midoriya asks. He’s holding Katsuki’s wrist and is slightly bowed down, but he asks so loudly that there’s no way Katsuki could have missed it. Katsuki can clearly hear the desperation in his voice. Desperation is an ugly look on anyone, but this crybaby’s makes him seem earnest rather than spiteful. 

“We’ll have to see about that, as well. I only date people with at least two gold medals,” he says with a grin; he catches a glimpse of Midoriya’s eyes when he peeks up, “Deku,” he tauntingly says his first name. 

“De-“ Midoriya starts, but Katsuki has already pulls his hand away and shoves it deep into his pocket before walking away. 

He doesn’t listen to whatever the crybaby has to say. 

The next day, Katsuki manages to avoid all mention of the Olympics. This is very difficult when you are a) an Olympian and b) touring the hosting city. But, he doesn’t look at what events are happening or the results. 

He also doesn’t think about why he’s doing so. As his teammates pull him around the city, all he can think about is the green haired crybaby who asked him out the day before. What happens if he does manage to get two medals? Should Katsuki allow the relationship? What happens if he doesn’t? 

Will Katsuki curse his own confidence in someone he knew nothing about? Will he think about all the chances he missed later on?

Katsuki hates regret. He simply won’t do it. So, if that Deku guy doesn’t manage to live up to par, Katsuki will just have to forget him. 

When he returns to the Olympic village after a long day, he sees a large crowd of people outside the cafeteria. They all seem to be surrounding someone. 

Katsuki wants to look away, but everyone there is wearing the same jacket that Deku had been wearing yesterday. 

He walks slowly by them but can’t make out what they’re talking about since his bad ear is facing the group. When he’s about to pass the group completely, someone latches onto his arm from out of nowhere, “Kacchan!”

“Hah? Who the fuck is Kacchan?” Katsuki yells down at the gymnast from yesterday. Deku’s cheeks are flushed and he looks like he’s on top of the world. 

“Oh, I thought we were doing nicknames since you called me ‘Deku’ yesterday…” Deku says, which means nothing to Katsuki. What the hell does he mean nicknames? Deku quickly moves on from his nonsense, “That’s not the point! Will you go out with me now?”

Katsuki squints his eyes at Deku as if he’ll be able to parse out how many medals he won, “I don’t know. Did you win two gold medals?” He asks. 

Then, Deku gives him a huge smile, “No!” 

Katsuki feels a flash of anger. Why the hell was this idiot going around looking so happy? Then Deku opens the front of his jacket, fumbling a bit with the zipper until it’s fully open. 

Katsuki’s jaw nearly drops to the fucking ground when he sees what’s beneath. 

“I won four!” Deku says as if Katsuki can’t make that out with his own damn eyes, “So, am I good enough for you now?” he asks.

“Well, damn, I guess I have to,” Katsuki says, trying to play off his own emotions. 

Deku goes even brighter red and covers his face with his hands before saying something. Katsuki swats at his arms and makes Deku look at him face on, “So?” he asks the crybaby.

“Then,” Deku pauses, “Tomorrow? At 10? Can we meet here?” Deku asks, pushing out every word like he’s spitting out cherry pits.

“And also can I kiss you?” he says faster than anyone has ever said anything. 

“Fine,” Katsuki says, barely processing the second question until Deku is standing on his tippy toes. 

Then there’s the soft press of lips against Katsuki’s cheeks and all of the gymnasts behind Deku are cheering. Katsuki puts a hand to his cheeks. Did that seriously just happen? Like hell he’s gonna let the crybaby get away with it!

Deku makes like he’s going to run off again, but instead Katsuki grabs him by the collar of his jacket and pulls him closer for a proper kiss. Deku is going to have to learn the hard way how to not piss Katsuki off. 

And this is how Katsuki will start with his training. 

He ignores how the cheers get even louder and how warm Deku is when Katsuki grabs the back of his neck with his other hand. From now on, Deku won’t be able to get rid of Katsuki. 

Not even if he wins another four gold medals - or loses them all. 

Deku is his.