Chapter Text
“Okay Big Nerd, try this one.”
Izuku, who sat perched at the bar with one knee under his chin and the other dangling, mindlessly opened his mouth while keeping his eyes glued to his computer screen. Kacchan shoved a spoonful of curry in. His tongue was assaulted by creamy phlegm and perhaps stabbed with chunky chili seeds. He recoiled, “S’disgusting. 3/10.”
He slapped his hand over his mouth and forced himself to swallow it.
“Fuck you. What’s wrong with it?” His husband glared, hands on hips.
“It has to taste good.” Izu met his glare with his own, looking above his black glasses. “This s’just spicy, it makes the consistency weird.”
“Perfect for those little nerds to learn their place!” Kacchan grinned crookedly, voice booming loudly through their kitchen, “They deserve to feel pain!”
“We haven’t even met them yet.” Izu huffed, tongue searching every part of his mouth like an assault. “‘Sides they talk when you enter the room. They love you. Like us with All Might, ‘member? Seriously, what did you put in this?”
“They’ve been the same for the past–I dunno–four years.” Kacchan said, dumping the curry down the drain. “And that’s different. All Might is a legend, the greatest Hero to ever live.”
Izuku grinned, sliding off his seat with fingers trailing over the marble counter, and walked over to his husband. “I thought we were both the greatest Heroes, you especially. I’ll beat you soon.”
“Yeah yeah, maybe the students are getting to your head too.” His husband tinted red.
“Please, you have to taste how bad this is,” The shorter one lifted his head up to kiss him, long and slow. “It’s awful.”
Kacchan returned the kiss. Longer. Slower. Like somehow he was savoring the taste. “I won’t admit anythin’.”
Izu’s eyes were practically glimmering, watching as the sun lit up his husband's red eyes and flooded the room with its warm glow. “I love you Kacchan.”
“Shuddup.” His husband reddened. “Me too.”
And that was their life. It was almost perfect. Izuku spent his days mentoring as a teacher at his alumni school, U.A. And about a year ago, Kacchan and the rest of Class 1-A manufactured a special made suit, using the information from All Might and One for All’s big fight in the war, to let him be Deku again. Because he didn’t know how to use the suit properly, he wasn’t allowed in many fights with villains yet. But he trained with his students when he could to test out his new abilities.
It might have been Class 1-A’s gift, but it was how Kacchan proposed to him, so it was a memory he’ll never forget. He kissed his husband again, holding his hand to purposefully feel their matching metal bands. Something rumbled in Kacchan’s throat and soon Izu was lifted and carried, his back fell against a plush couch.
It took a few minutes to break apart but when they did, Izu was sitting comfortably on the couch with his glasses torn off and Kacchan’s apron on the floor. He ran his fingers through thick dark green hair, “I have to be in early tomorrow. You?”
“Same schedule I keep.” Kacchan lounged on top of him, his head planted on the shorter one’s chest. “I want to practice with the curry more. They need to cry from my power.”
“You know, even if it tasted awful they get to try food made by you, they might like it anyway.” His hand played with blond strands, massaging his scalp gently. “The perk of being powerful.”
They jumped as Kacchan’s phone rang, blasting Jiro’s newest single as the ringtone. His husband groaned, sloppily moving off of Izuku to answer with a nasty, “What?”
“I JUST GOT ENGAGED!!!!!!” Eijiro screamed, causing his best friend to rip the phone away from his ear.
The couple looked at each other, registering what the red head said before fumbling off the couch as Kacchan put it on Facetime. The blond practically slammed his phone into the port and they waited impatiently for the phone to connect to the TV. Once it did, they fought for the camera as Eijiro appeared on screen, flashing a thick black band with a small red gem in the center.
“Congratulations!!” Izu’s eyes shined brightly, perhaps even with tears. Two of his closest friends! Getting married! I love weddings!!
“Man, that’s amazin’ for you guys.” Kacchan said. “About damn time.”
“The wedding is going to be soon, you know because of life as a Hero and whatnot-”
Something pink crashed into the camera and began running, screaming incoherent curses of joy. When the quality cleared Mina’s pink bouncing curls appeared, as did her inky liquid eyes that took up most of the TV, “I’m the one who proposed! Can you believe it!”
Kacchan scratched his head, “Oi, Shitty hair, you talked to me months ago about your proposal plan and she proposed?”
“I KNOW!” Eijiro wrapped his arms around Mina and rested his head on her shoulder, “Isn’t that so manly?”
Mina giggled. “He was taking too long, so, I did it.”
The red head gaped, “Wait you knew?!”
“Like you can hide anything from me. You’re a horrible liar.”
“Stop being so damn cutetsy.” Kacchan groaned. “You’re pathetic.”
Izuku clapped his hands together, eyes shining even brighter. “I’M SO HAPPY!! Wait Kacchan you knew Kirishima was going to propose and you didn’t tell me?!”
His husband grinned, saying nothing. Izu swatted at him.
“We wanted you to be first to know. You’re the one that pushed us to get together in the first place.”
“You were ogling each other all the time, it was damn annoying!”
Izu ignored his husband's bashfulness and wept, “You guys are so cute!”
Mina’s eyes teared up, “Stop it Zuzu you’ll make me cry! I have to call the others, I can’t be crying.”
But both the pink and green-haired adults started crying happy tears anyway. Eijiro and Mina disconnected the call with promises to call back soon.
“Stop being such a baby.” Kacchan brought Izu’s head to his chest and held him.
“K-Kacchan they’re gonna be-be so cute and happy!” Izuku wept, uncaring of the tears and snot rubbing on his husband’s red shirt. “Like us!”
“You… nerd…” He pressed his lips against Izuku’s forehead. “I can’t be mad when you say that.”
Princess Murder jumped up on the couch and let out a loud yawn.
“Oh, ey Princess.” Izu picked up the tan cat and cuddled her, sniffling, “Did you wake up from your nappy?”
Princess Murder rubbed her head against his, purring contently. Izuku laid on top of Kacchan, holding her, listening to the soft rumble of their cat and the steady heart beat of his husband.
Yes. Life was almost perfect.
How could it not be? Everyone around him was growing, he himself was just beginning to resurface as Deku. A desperate wish that was but a shadow of his mind for 8 years until the suit was given to him. A wish that for years he never thought possible. A wish that felt so out of his reach he had no choice but to mourn the loss of a Quirk. A wish that led him to return to U.A to teach what he no longer could.
It wasn’t that he disliked being a teacher, Izuku would say that he loved his job. Finally, his muttering and analyzation skills came handy when guiding the next generation of Heroes. It’s just… not where he expected to be. But that’s fine, right? No one is where they thought they were going to be. Who would have imagined Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo married, living a happily domestic life with a cat? The class of Aldera Junior High didn’t. Their old selves didn’t.
And besides, who needed a Quirk anyway?
Izuku only had the most overpowered, versatile, life changing quirk that was One For All for a little under a year. Even when the embers remained, they lent their strength until they faded completely. But who needed it, when it caused everyone around him so much pain? For everyone to suffer so needlessly, because of him.
Izu would always be grateful to All Might and for One For All, he didn’t think that he would choose another path. But maybe-just maybe-the thought crossed his mind of the consequences of it. Even all these years later.
When his hands run over Kacchan’s skin, with the pads of his fingers tracing the grooves of tissue scars… When the anniversary of the war comes every year without fail and while the rest of the world is celebrating he wakes up screaming from nightmares, breathing so faintly it felt like he could stop at any moment.
Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it, but even he was smart enough to know that it was. That All for One’s plan would have succeeded if it weren’t for him. Of course it was worth it. That wasn’t what he was questioning.
So… what was he questioning?
“Izu?”
Nothing. He was questioning nothing.
“Nerd, are you sleepin’?”
His life was perfect. Because he had everything he needed. Friends. Family. Love.
“C’mon sleepy head, let’s get you to bed.”
If only.. I could forget everything I don’t want to remember.
Kacchan’s alarm blared first. Like always. Like usual. Izu groaned, fingers clutching into warm skin and head burying in the crook of his husband’s neck. If he hid there it was peaceful and quiet and he could ignore the way Kacchan’s muscles awoke with the familiar ringing that echoed through the room.
“Babe.”
Izu moaned, a long guttural sound that reverberated through his throat as he gripped the blankets around him tighter.
“Baby.”
“No.” He mumbled, lips kissing skin as he did. “Stay.”
“You know I can’t.” Kacchan said, unflinchingly loud and firm, stretching as far as he could to turn off his alarm. “C’mon, you can’t either.”
Seconds later Izuku’s alarm went off. All Might’s voice disrupted his fragile peace with a booming, “I AM HERE. I AM HERE. TO WAKE YOU UP.”
Izuku lifted his head with a deep scowl and slapped the alarm.
“Grumpy today.” Kacchan said, prying Izuku off him and sliding off the bed. He didn’t need to ask what he was doing, he knew like he knew the ticking of his husband’s heart (113 beats per minute). In the other room the shower clicked on, the muffled sound of rushing water reached him like a calling. It was Kacchan’s deep voice that actually called him.
“Zu get your perfect ass up!”
Izuku groaned and turned on his back, looking out the window. The sun wasn’t awake yet, but it was trying. It barely pulled over the horizon, deep orange strokes painted the sky and for an instant it reminded him of the orange on Kacchan’s suit. The fog in his mind broke, piece by piece. He used to be up before the sun, way back when. When the reason he woke was to push himself the furthest he could possibly be, to feel the burn in his muscles and his limbs. To feel more useful than running to catch the subway.
“Zu, I swear to god!”
“Kacchan.” He whined, slipping out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom. It had two entrances. One from the living room and the other their bedroom. The light hung heavy above him, the brightness weighing down his eyelids. Steam rolled around his ankles and the warmth almost lulled him to sleep again. He leaned against the doorframe.
“Izuku.” His husband mimicked him.
His heart, and maybe something else, jolted. He shook himself awake. “Don’t do that.”
Kacchan grinned, “Yeah?”
Izu sheepishly looked away, “Yeah.”
“Izuku.” His husband’s husky voice reached his ears. God, it was early, wasn’t it? That rasp, it ticked the back of his throat. It made him unintentionally lean forward to take more in.
“G-Get in the shower.” Izu breathed.
Kacchan slipped out of his Edgeshot pajamas and teasingly threw them past Izu, their chests brushing together. Izuku didn’t hide how his green eyes drank him in, faded scars, white gleam, and thick shoulders with rippling veins.
“Get in the shower.” He said more firmly, like something rested on his tongue with a command.
His husband listened.
And when Izuku joined him, their skin slipped together with ease, mouths gentle and pulling and exploring–although it wasn’t exploring. Just traversing. They knew every curve, every imprint, every raised scar. Izu hissed under the roiling water that stung his skin but made him alert, Kacchan lazily reached behind him and turned the water temperature down, lips never leaving the other’s.
Yeah, maybe Izuku didn’t wake up to train or spar like he missed, but maybe there were other ways to burn his muscles. He pushed into Kacchan with a rumble and a tug of blond hair and was responded to in kind.
Izuku grinned and broke their kiss, letting the water run over his shoulders. “Good morning.”
Kacchan smiled, a real smile, because around Izuku it didn’t need to be a twitch in his mouth or a slight curve in his lips. It was boastful and loud with sharp teeth. To anyone else, probably a threat. “Morning.”
“I’m awake now.”
“I could tell.”
Izu pressed his waist forward, running his knee between his husband’s legs. “Can we…?”
“Fuck yeah.”
His body wasn’t sore. Not yet. Probably tomorrow. After all, he didn’t work out like he used to. He leaned on Kacchan before leaning on the bar, hiding the slight tremble in his legs. The sun was awake now, it poured through the windows like it had an open invitation. Golden rays gleamed off their pristine surfaces and lit up Kacchan’s hair like a halo as he moved around the kitchen with precision. They lived in a penthouse, as most Heroes do. The kitchen was large, an industrial fridge with an industrial stainless steel oven. Dark brown wood rooted in the cabinets, island, and bar, topped with swirling gray marble. It was fancy, and it took a lot of begging for Izu to even touch it.
Kacchan’s kitchen.
It was kept tidy and neat, organized like the notes Izuku poured onto paper. It was a method he was only privy to because he baked. Even then, he found himself asking where things were, because his husband kept moving the ingredients based on feel and rhythm that he danced with in the room. Because everything could always be better and Kacchan would find out how.
Kacchan spun, one hand flipping a spatula in the air while the other skillfully cracked an egg into a sizzling cast iron pan. Izu curved around him, grabbing their mugs (Izuku’s a bronze age All Might, Kacchan’s a Best Jeanist head) with a small hum in his throat and jutting them under the coffee machine as it gurgled and spit. It was old. It was a house warming gift from his mother-in-law. He loved it. Kacchan secretly did too.
“Creamer?” It was pretense, fake conversation, something to fill the space. Izuku pulled out the unholy cinnamon mixture Kacchan created and poured in it before his husband replied, ‘yes.’
As the blond turned to toss the egg shells in the trash he used his other hand to grab the sugar from the cabinet–oh that’s where it went–and handed it to him. Izu took it, letting their fingers linger, and poured a tablespoon in his All Might mug.
“Honey?”
“What’s up?”
Izu inwardly smirked, “Where is it?”
“Oh.” There was a pause, a shift in Kacchan’s momentum as his brain caught up. His eyes glanced back, “Pantry.”
“Thanks Honey.” The shorter one smiled and bounced to the pantry.
“Shut it, Big Nerd.”
Izu appeared in the kitchen again, dodging his husband’s wicked fast movements as he pulled bacon from the fridge and slapped them in the pan next to the eggs. Izu poured honey in their cups, it sank to the bottom with its auburn curl and he watched on the sidelines as Kacchan pulled out their bento’s. Izuku got a Deku inspired one and Kacchan a Dynamight one. It was a matching set, bought together with thick wrapped plastic at the pestering of the green-haired husband.
“Please. Please. Please. Please.” Izuku whined in the store. “It’s our first couple merch.”
“It’s pathetic.” His boyfriend muttered, “Flimsy. That’s not even the right shade of teal.”
“It’s perfect.” He clutched it to his chest and peered up at him.
“Fine.”
Realistically, Kacchan didn’t need to make food every morning for them, let alone use their matching bentos when they had so many others stuffed away somewhere. He employed a chef at the agency and Izu could always eat Lunch Rush’s food from the cafeteria at U.A. But Izuku and Kacchan didn’t love each other to be realistic, so, Izu hummed in his coffee and let the steam curl around his ears and watched his husband show off.
Silently, something slithered under his nose and around his heart, not the sizzling oil or the rich spices, but something hot and crawling. Kacchan loved him so much, and the pressure of it pressed deep in his chest. He fidgeted with the ring on his finger, a sheen metal band.
It wasn’t how his husband proposed, it was with the metal bracelets that he had yet to put on for the day. The bracelets that fit perfectly around his wrist and activated on his command was just a fraction of the technological suit that acted as armor.
Ah.
Anxiety. It wasn’t heat or passion that pricked at his lungs. It was a burning heat that seared his breath because it was the reason he was grumpy this morning. Kacchan married him with the promise that Izuku could be Deku again. That was it, wasn’t it? Of course Kacchan loved him, yes of course, without a doubt. But was it conditional?
“Kiss?” Izuku said weakly, spinning the ring on his finger.
The blond snapped his head up, sensing the shake in his voice. Red eyes scanned him like he could see through him. Kacchan gently dropped the spatula and circled around the bar until he pressed between Izu’s legs. Izu dipped down, head lowering from the height of the barstool, and softly pressed his lips to his.
“Tell me?” His husband whispered, calloused hands raising to cup his face. Izu leaned into it, pressing their foreheads together.
“Nothing. Just–” Izuku felt his saliva thicken and closed his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Kacchan said, firm and grounding. Izu’s shoulders deflated and he breathed heavily, nodding slightly, making a hum of agreement in his throat.
He couldn’t be a Hero just yet, but there had to be something he could do in the meantime so just a fraction of his love for Kacchan could be seen. Something he could do to feel worth loving.
The blond pressed in close and anchored him, using his arms to create pressure around Izu’s back and arms. The green-haired husband leaned into it, spit licked his teeth and lips as he spoke, “I love you.”
Kacchan hugged him tighter, mumbling against his skin the same reassurance, “I love you.”
For how long?
Izuku bit it back, tongue bleeding from his teeth and burrowed in his husband.
There was silky whip cream on his nose, on his hands, on his left eyebrow. Sticky jam on his elbow, his freckles, his knuckles. The penthouse, their home, was spotless. Windows cleaned with Inko’s sparkling baking soda mixture. Rugs vacuumed, swept, and picked of all the dust and tan cat hair. Pillows fluffed. Bed made. Shower scum free. That was only the start, when his fingers were aching red from bleach, Izuku stormed the kitchen.
Izuku’s kitchen.
Flour dusted the marble counter tops, perhaps a bit on the floor, and he stumbled backward and reached for the fridge to steady himself, whipping the door open and spotting the jam he made to set. He stuck his index finger in and licked it clean, savoring the spicy and sweet gel. Red pepper jam, thick and red.
Behind him the oven beeped and he spun to it, “Oops.”
Princess Murder walked over the flour and spread it across the floor and he gently nudged her out of the way, “Heat. Hot. Bad.”
She, somehow, ignored him completely and meowed at him.
“Move Princess.” He opened the oven and pulled out cinnamon carrot cupcakes.
They puffed perfectly and he put the toothpick in as a habit, not as a need, moist crumbs stuck to the pick as he pulled it out and Izu grinned sharply. He turned to Princess Murder, “He’s going to love this, right?”
She, again somehow, ignored him completely and licked at her now white paw.
His phone rang and he grabbed it.
Husband <3
He picked it up with a cheer, “Kacchan! You home soon?”
“Gonna be late, didn’t want you to miss this.” His husband growled, “FUCK OFF. Anyway, turn on the TV. Gotta go- BACK THE FUCK UP. I’M ON THE PHONE. YEAH? What? Oh. Love you.”
The phone clicked.
~/|\~
“Gonna be late, didn’t want you to miss this.” Dynamight spun on his heel, his gloved hand gripping his phone as he dodged a poorly thrown punch. “FUCK OFF. Anyway, turn on the TV. Gotta go-”
A villain, some lanky guy with braces, ripped hoodie, and illegal support items on his arms, swung in close.
“BACK THE FUCK UP.” He hissed. “I’M ON THE PHONE.”
“Dynamight!” One of his sidekicks bellowed out in warning.
“YEAH? What? Oh. Love you.” He hung up on Zu, hoping to not be scolded (by who he wasn’t sure yet) for the interruption. But there was no way he could let his husband miss this, once the nerd saw the real villain he’d be jumping to catalog it in that damn brain of his.
Dynamight's quirk rippled through his arms as an explosion burst from his hands and he arched away, rapidly swinging the air to kick the villain who interrupted his call to Izuku. That pathetic loser wasn’t why he called his husband anyway. The villain screamed, clutched his bloody face and the Hero gripped the back of his shirt and launched him in the air.
One of his sidekicks caught him while Dynamight swerved midair, a bright, orange streak following him and lighting up the block. Somewhere in the distance the sun was setting, casting glowy streaks between the blocks.
His comm crackled to life in his ear with an extra that was more like a side character. Kei’s annoying voice mocked in his ear, “Had fun with your hubby?”
“Barely.” Dynamight spit, hand pressed to ear. “Where’s the big guy?”
“Ran. Three blocks to your north.”
“Understood.”
The number 3 Hero launched in the air, letting the cold wind whip across his face and blow his blond spikes. The city turned into a blur of colorful lights as he zipped past towering buildings and car soaked roads. A helicopter buzzed in his perimeter, orbiting like Dynamight was the center of gravity. After years of being a Hero, any and all press knew better than to be anywhere remotely close to the blast radius.
He found him in seconds, red eyes wickedly glinting.
“GOT YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Dynamight cackled. “I NEED YOU FOR SOMETHING!”
The Hero dropped his altitude, his limbs and muscles rolling from the sudden drop in height, the familiar pulse of nausea beat in his stomach like a steady thrum. He grinned. His right arm twitched, not in pain, not yet.
The villain whipped around to face him.
A real villain. With a mock up suit that eerily resembled his. It looked like one of his old suits in his teenage years, with black fabric that stretched to his neck but cut short at his shoulders. A crimson X smeared on the front. Fuck was that his mask? It looked like the cheap shit you could buy at the costume stores. Illegal support items were stabbed into his arms, leaving dark bloody streaks over pale skin, fuckin’ creepy ass vials filled with red. The villain glared with bright blue eyes and a snarl.
He was the real reason he called Zu.
“Oh, if it isn’t the better me!” The villain snarled.
Dynamight pressed a finger to his ear, “I got him locked on the bridge. Clear the surrounding area. This is gonna be fun.”
“Understood.”
“Of course I’m the better you!” The number 3 Hero boasted with crossed arms, cocking his hip and laughing sharply. “I could never be compared to a weakling!”
“Update. His name is Jaro Satoko. Quirk is–”
“Shut up.” Dynamight growled. “Trust me, I know the fuckers Quirk.”
“Thanks Kei! Oh, you’re welcome, Dynamight.” Kei mocked in his ear before the comm crackled quietly.
His sidekicks flooded the scene, propping elders out of cars and pulling children out of range. Excessive if it wasn’t for the villain’s Quirk.
“Let’s see if you really match the hype!” Satoko rested his weight on knees and curled his arms. Dynamight watched as the villain dug his fingernails into his palms and drew blood.
The Hero mimicked his stance with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “Let’s see if you’re even worth it!”
They ran toward each other from opposite sides of the bridge, Dynamight’s thick soles digging into the concrete for barely even a fraction of a second before he was on the next step. His hands pulsed orange, small explosions flinging him forward.
“Explosive speed!” Dynamight seethed.
Satoko lurched forward, blood poured from his hand and splayed on his fingers, “Taste my heat you bitch-ass Hero!”
The blood exploded.
I wish I could see the Big Nerd’s face right now, probably lightin’ up the fuckin’ room.
An ordinary Hero would have switched directions mid move, launched themselves in the air to avoid the rippling heat that was rapidly expanding toward them–but Dynamight was extraordinary, and he did no such thing. He slid low to the ground as the blood popped in droplets above him, coming in close before using his arms to spring off the floor until he was a spinning bullet in the air. Sparks of gold crackled around him as he landed a punch with his left fist against the villain.
“YOU CALL THAT HEAT?!” Dynamight shouted. “HOW DARE YOU EVER COMPARE YOURSELF TO ME?!”
His eyes caught on Satoko’s clean hands, how his fingernails cut for more blood and before he could see more a bright flash nearly blinded him. The Hero didn’t bother shielding his eyes, simply raised his right hand, aching from the bounce of the concrete, and huffed in release.
The villain’s red flare was swallowed by brilliant orange, nearly as radiant as the sun that illuminated around them.
Wind seared their skin, the heat from the bombs whipped at their surroundings. It pushed back the helicopter, toppled over cars, and cracked the asphalt beneath their feet. A slow, but crawling tingle traveled up his right arm.
Damn. So sensitive.
It didn’t matter, it never mattered. Dynamight strived to be like All Might, like Deku, if his right arm hurt easier now than before the war than it was whatever, because it had to be. You didn’t become the best without sacrifices, he learned that fucking lesson long ago.
It ain’t hurting, won’t for a while with this bitch ass’ inferior Quirk.
But the number 3 Hero pulled back his left arm and with a striking blast, punched the villain hard in the chest. Not enough to crush bones, but to leave him gasping for air. Satoko stumbled backward, spit flung from his cracked lips, “Fu-ungh!”
“Of course you’re lesser!” The number 3 Hero continued his verbal assault, springing forward.
The villain fumbled, hands gripped at his support items, and Dynamight watched as a red vial hissed before it drained into his arms. Satoko's eyes bursted red, the veins rippled on his arms with a disgusting bulge. The villain roared just as the Hero landed another solid punch, but unlike the past, Satoko didn’t move.
Instead his feet dug into the concrete, crushing it.
Dynamight jumped back, hand to ear. “Oi! Is this his Quirk or a new drug booster?”
“Thought you knew his Quirk?” Kei mocked.
“Fucker.” He snapped, watching as Satoko roared again.
“Just his Quirk and the support items.”
The number 3 Hero hissed before digging his feet in the concrete as well. Like hell he was going to be pushed back. The villain heaved before the blood vessels in his hand burst, crimson coated his fingers like gloves. Satoko gave the Hero a wicked grin, “Sorry for holding back DYNAMIGHT!”
Heat.
Blinding heat.
It swarmed him before he could hold his arms up like an ‘X’ to block the blast. It wrapped around him like armor that didn’t fight right, it’s temperature was wrong, it’s angle cutting, his body wasn’t used to this form of explosion. He grunted–roared–from the pain that peeled back his suit. But he took it, because a fucking blast like that couldn’t be aimed at anyone else but him. He was the best! The number 3 Hero! He was fucking STRONGER than that WEAKLING.
Dynamight’s sharp smile cut his lip as the blast died down. “YOU IDIOT.”
Spiky blond hair stuck to his forehead, sweat dripped down his chin like it was raining. The ripped fabric of his suit was soaked and smelled like spicy caramel.
The Hero charged, sweat flung around him as he swung his arms to his sides, he grabbed Satoko and hitched him into the air with charged explosions and a terrifying kick to the stomach. The villain launched higher than a city building. Higher than the helicopter that hovered nearby. Dynamight followed, blond hair whipping and mask half destroyed.
“DIE!” The Hero aimed with his leg, eerily familiar, and used his right hand to propel himself downward, thick boot slamming into the villain’s back and crashing like a meteor into the bridge. A star, a giant ball of glowy orange and sparkling yellow, followed Dynamight like he was the sun.
The ground crumbled, a deep thundering rumble assaulted their ears, as the villain slammed into the ground.
One second.
Two seconds.
After the third second Dynamight released his foot and looked down at Satoko, the villain had blood dribbling down his ears and nose, eyes rolled back.
The Hero panted into his comm, “It’s over.”
“Good job Dynamight.” Kei said, not a hint of mockery in his tone. “Police are hovering around the area. Give them the get go.”
Dynamight looked up and saw the blue badged officers, he ushered them over. Behind him the copter hovered on the ground before landing with a loud creak on the broken bridge.
Five seconds.
The press swarmed in.
Reporters with shiny lanyards and thick microphones, cameras, and recorders chattered like bugs.
“Dynamight! Dynamight!”
“How did you think you handled it?”
“Was this from the villain organization you fought last month?”
The number 3 Hero raised up the remainders of his mask so it pushed back his hair. It halfway worked. It was the only sign that he was willing to answer a few questions. He pointed at a teenager who shouldn’t be out there, “You. Go. The rest, shut up.”
The girl sparkled, “How did you feel knowing you were battling someone with a Quirk similar to yours?”
Dynamight cocked his hip with crossed arms. “It felt like any other villain. Easy.”
The teenager smirked. “So, you’re Quirk isn’t that powerful or it was so powerful that it was easy? Which is it?”
The blond scowled, “2+2 = 4 idiot. Guy blasted me with fire, I sweat. I hurt him.”
“So, what did you think about his Quirk?”
A twitch in his lips, one that he knew only his precious bubbly Izuku could read, “You can ask my husband about that. Speaking of-”
He blasted away with a blink of an eye, launching himself in the air. Enough reporters. Enough wasting time. He had things, important shit, to get too.
“You better be on your way to the hospital.” His husband’s soothing voice crackled for his comm. “I’m tracking you and you aren’t.”
Dynamight briefly regretted giving Izu his own line, but hearing the concern so prominent in his voice made his chest warm. “It looks worse than it is.”
“Don’t bloody up the apartment.”
“Penthouse.”
“Home. Don’t bloody up our home.” His husband’s voice gently scolded. The blond could almost hear the thumb pressed against his lips, muttering.
“Nerd. I’m okay.”
“You hate the hospital, you could be lyin’ to me.”
His right arm twinged and he suppressed a hiss. He grit his teeth together.
“Kacchan?”
“Nothing a bath won’t fix, Big Nerd.”
“It’s your right arm, again. Isn’t it?”
Dynamight’s silence was the answer the Hero’s husband was looking for. There was another crackle across the comm, like a sigh.
“Yeah. Yeah, just come home.”
“‘Kay.”
“I love you.”
Dynamight returned the affections, because in his line of work you never knew when you could say it again. He let the city warp around him as he arced in the sky like a shooting star, the wind rippled, the heat from his hand bloomed, he bloodily grinned.
He landed on the roof, feet skidding against the concrete with a roll. When Dynamight looked up his husband rushed to him with a kiss and a smile, “You were amazing.”
Cool air brushed his cheeks like a caress, Izu was looking at him with those sparkling green eyes. He knew that Izu thought what he said was true. Dynamight gruffed, “Tell me what I did wrong.”
He kissed him again, a small spot in the corner of his mouth, “You have an agency for that, how’s your arm? Are you okay?”
The Hero shifted on his feet, “I don’t care about what extras think.”
Zu breathed, lips curled in a soft smile with eyes lowering like a know-it-all, “You favored your left side too much, made it apparent the way to take you down was your right side. At least to me, I don’t think anyone else noticed it. It’s okay to use it, you’ll live, working it is good. I noticed you used a few of my moves, if you’re going to do that then make sure you twist your waist enough to make the impact hurt. By the way did you do that because you were fighting someone with your Quirk?”
The Hero hooked on his every word like gospel, cataloging it inside of his brain with nods and noises of agreement that could have sounded like a growl of disapproval. His mind replayed the fight fresh in his mind like a reel and applied his husband’s words to them like subtitles.
Izu retreated away from him and pressed his thumb to his lips, hand pushing up his glasses, looking down at the floor. “That’s kinda hot if you did. Reminds you of us way back huh? Regardless, you did amazing Kacchan! You used your right arm as a support item rather than a weapon but even though you used your left side more you didn’t feel one-sided you were able to move with precision. You’re training been’s paying off!”
Katsuki pulled his husband to him and rubbed the blood and sweat onto Izu, “Nerd.”
He said it in the tone that meant enough. Izu perked up, like he was drawn out of his world, “Unfair. You asked for this.”
“Now I’m getting this.” He grabbed onto the green-haired boy’s chin and lifted him into a kiss. “You taste… different.”
Warm. Cinnamon. Spice. Sweet.
Fucking Good.
Zu blushed and pushed him off, “Let’s get inside. It’s cold.”
“You baked.” Katsuki stated as a fact, letting his hand linger on the small of his husband’s back. He didn’t agree or deny, just leaned into the touch like an anchor.
The rooftop door, like their front door, needed their thumbprints to open and soon they leisurely found themselves in their home. It smelled more than spices, like vanilla and lemon. The shift of the room changed when they walked in, the lights seemed to glow brighter and the floors shinier. The subtle pressure of this morning that sizzled with food and his husband’s anxiety has subsided to make room for the weariness of the day and lingering love of the night.
It was Katsuki’s hand on Zu’s back but it was Zu leading them to the bath. A separate room to the bathroom that linked their living room and bedroom. They moved harmoniously, as usual. His husband unzipped his costume and peeled off where blood and sweat stuck together, fingers gently ribbing between fabric and skin. Katsuki tossed his mask and gauntlets to the side, and picked off his gloves.
“How was your day?” Izu breathed against his back. “Was it good? Mine was.” Have you noticed? Can you say something?
Katsuki bit his lip with sharp teeth, practically able to hear the nerd’s haunted words. He chewed him out, “Yours was good?”
“Mhmm.” Couldn’t you see? What I did? Zu pulled back his Hero suit until it fell down his ankles.
“Mine s’good too.” He hummed.
His husband walked over and turned on the bathtub, letting the water rush and swell the room with steam that curled instantly. Katsuki didn’t miss that the bottom wasn’t layered with dead skin.
“Izuku.” He rumbled with his raspy voice.
His husband turned, the edges of his glasses had started to fog, “Mhm?”
“Our home looks good.” He said. “Smells nice.”
His husband smiled, shoulders curling into himself and hands clasping together tightly, “Thank you Kacchan.”
You’re perfect.
His throat bobbed, “Fuckin… fuck.”
Izu giggled, and by god did Katsuki hate that word but that’s what he did, “I’m happy you said somethin’.”
Not happy he noticed, because it was expected, happy he said something because it wasn’t. He sat down in the tub and let the warmth surround him like a cradle, “‘Course I did. Think I wouldn’t?”
Izu stripped down again, because admittedly cleaning the entire house had coated him in an armor of sweat, and tucked in behind Katsuki. “Not without me askin’. But I never mind.”
His husband’s fingers curled into his hair easily, rubbing his scalp with deep pressure. The blond grumbled and leaned back, “I compliment you all the damn time.”
Another giggle. “Don’t worry, I know you love me Kacchan.”
“Good.” His voice was sharp, not in the way that cut but in the way that declared. It was as if there was no room for anything else, no voice for argument. “Why play house husband today, you bored?”
Izu rubbed his scalp with hot water, “No reason.”
“Was it ‘cause this morning?”
He felt the stall of his husband’s fingers before he pulled his hands down to his shoulders and began pressing with intent. “Not exactly.”
“Zu.”
“Yes,” He hummed like nothing was wrong. “It was.”
Katsuki tipped his head back and stared upside down into his dark green eyes, still wearing glasses. Gently, the blond grabbed them and set them on the floor. He raised an eyebrow in question, Why?
Izuku looked away, “Uhm.. S’wanted to do somethin’ for you.”
If they weren’t in water that could ripple, and he wasn’t pressed between Izu’s thighs, he would have almost believed him. But he felt the shudder beat through his body, the way the pressure in his husband’s fingers twitched and pulled. He spent years studying Izuku Midoriya.
His voice was a low drawl, as if approaching an animal and you had to show you weren’t paying attention, “Yeah?”
“Mmm.”
Katsuki stared a beat too long.
Izuku raised his hands and covered peering red eyes, “Please… just don’t be mad at me.”
“Baby.” His breath hitched.
“I didn’t know how to..” He paused. “Express myself. I can’t love you the way you need.”
Katsuki froze. It echoed through his body, like a heavy anchor that slowed his movements and pressed against his heart. It took a moment, maybe two, of sitting in the stillness, before his brain clicked.
Same fucking Deku.
He curled his hands into fists and took a steadying breath, because he wasn’t mad at Izuku but the nerd would take it that way and he wouldn’t lash out even though his muscles were aching to crush his husband. Of course the nerd would think he wasn’t enough. Of fucking course he would.
“Oi, babe.” He cut. “Why do you think that?”
Izu winced, spoke slowly, his thumb naturally stoked the scar on his cheek. “It’s just… how I feel.”
They went quiet. Katsuki leaned into Izu, with his eyes still covered and letting the steam curl around him. They stayed still for a few minutes, until they knew the harmony of their breathing.
“I’m irritated.” Katsuki admitted. “Ain’t mad. Can’t tell you how to feel and all that shit. Just… fuck just keep talkin’ to me. Don’t shut me out ‘cause of what’s in that thick head of yours.”
“I know you love me.”
I live for you, Katsuki corrected in his mind. He said aloud, however, “I know you love me too, Big Nerd. Just know I know.”
“But-”
The blond pulled Izu’s hands off his eyes and stared with piercing red ones. “Izuku Midoriya.”
“Kacchan Bakugo.”
Katsuki spun until their chests were touching and they were on eye level, he grabbed his husband’s hand and interlinked their fingers firmly. “We’re married now, that means shit to me. I-I-damn it.. Izuku, you know I can’t do this without you.”
Izuku looked at him with watery eyes that screamed doubt. In the lines of his face, the draw of his lips, the scrunch of his nose, Katsuki read it like he was looking at Izuku’s Hero analysis–his own version.
“I swear.” Katsuki said.
Izu blinked away tears. “It’s hard to believe that.”
I don’t believe that, he heard instead.
“Too bad.” He leaned forward and kissed his husband’s scrunched nose. Then he did something his therapist would be proud of. He asked, “How can you?”
“I-I don’t know.” Izu dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re good.” Katsuki said, because he learned years ago it was better than saying ‘don’t be.’ Especially to an overthinker. Especially to Zu. Usually with the ‘don’t be’ fiasco it led to the nerd spiraling even more because he felt guilty. Katsuki learned other ways to communicate. “The house smells good, what did you make?”
“It’s a surprise.” He whispered.
Katsuki nodded, “You even did the tub.”
“Yeah.”
“I dig it, even though I probably just made it 100x worse.”
“The blood will drain.”
They leaned forward and rested their foreheads together, breathing softly. Katsuki counted off all the things he noticed, Izu sat and listened. It was the opposite of their usual dynamic, but he knew what grounded Izuku and what didn’t. Izuku was far off into his own head, hardly present even with the sweltering water that wrapped around them and the steam that wet his hair. Still, Katsuki talked and slowly brought him into a tight embrace, until Zu was nestled into his shoulder with his legs around his waist.
They waded in the water, slowly dipping and turning, until Izu cracked a smile, “What are you doing?”
“Testin’ how well you cleaned.” Katsuki supported him by his thighs, hands engulfing them, and moved his feet against the tile. “Haven’t slipped yet.”
Izu twisted, ignored what rubbed together because that’s not what they were doing, “Wait is your arm okay? Should you be doing this?”
There he is.
Katsuki pecked his lips. “You weigh nothing.”
“Hey-”
“Now, breathe with me here.” The blond grinned. “Don’t freak out.”
Izu tilted his head.
“Tell me what you thought of the villain.”
His husband perked up, straightened his back and almost made them fall. “Oh Kacchan! I nearly forgot, I was so focused on you. I can’t believe you called me mid fight for it!”
Katsuki smiled freely, “You had to fuckin’ see.”
“It was dangerous! I could have watched recaps or something!” Izu was still sparkling. “But his Quirk! It was so similar to yours, did you see how his blood was used up whenever he used a blast? That’s probably so dangerous on his body, he can’t use his Quirk too much otherwise…”
Izu continued rambling, perfectly. Cutely. Intelligently. This, him resting in Katsuki’s arms with bubbling laughter, was exactly why Dynamight even bothered to call his husband. Like hell he didn’t see the anxiety that lingered when he left for work that morning, or the way that Izu awoke with an unsettling frown.
Katsuki rubbed circles on his husband’s thighs as he talked, partly listening, partly admiring.
I love you.
No grand confession, no need to force Izu to stop talking just so he could say it, Katsuki thought it in his head. Let the thought flood his entire body like fuel to his flame, let it sit like a sweet on his tongue. Izuku tightened his legs around him so he could animate with his hands, making wild gestures as he spoke.
I love you.