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Katsuki didn’t even know why he said yes.
He hated being out late, he hated clubs, he hated drinking.
Yet here he was, out late, in a club, drunk as hell.
Future Katsuki would hate present Katsuki for downing yet another one of those sweet cocktails instead of ordering some water, but well. Go big or go home.
Still, he was tired. His feet were hurting, the loud music was making his head throb and he wanted to have Izuku all to himself again.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t ordered that water, too afraid it would dull the effect of the alcohol. He didn’t want to deal with Izuku while sober, not when he was talking to every person in this damned place like he had known them for years. For every too big smile not directed at himself, Katsuki ordered a drink. He didn’t like how many empty glasses sat at his table.
Pushing himself to his feet, he peered at the sweaty crowd. Between the constant movement and the flashing lights of the club, it was hard to tell anyone apart, much less find a specific person. Katsuki groaned when he didn’t immediately spot Izuku. The fucker had said he needed a bathroom break, but Katsuki was ready to bet he struck up a conversation with yet another cute person who was batting their eyelashes at him.
His mind supplied him with an image of Izuku pressing some clubgoer against a bathroom stall, tongue down their throat, and he immediately felt like throwing up. Or maybe that was the alcohol.
It didn’t matter.
He needed to find Izuku and prevent that– that vision from ever happening. What if alcohol had given him psychic power or something? The mix between ethanol and nitroglycerin was bound to be a bad one, right?
Mulling over his very important scientific discovery, Katsuki nearly missed the head of green hair currently sat at the bar. His back was to him, but the way his arms were moving and the bartender was caught in a fit of laughter told Katsuki everything he needed to know.
Instead of coming back to him, Izuku had gone to flirt with someone else again? That fucking bastard.
Suddenly feeling very determined, Katsuki pushed his way through the crowd. He had accepted enough of this bullshit. If Izuku didn’t want to look at him, he would make him. If even that didn’t work, at least he would have a definite answer and finally stop his ten year long streak of having a pathetic crush on his best friend.
As Katsuki marched towards Izuku, his traitorous mind still took the time to appreciate the way his white shirt was sticking to his back, nearly transparent because of the sweat. It wasn’t leaving anything to the imagination, highlighting the way his muscles shifted every time he moved.
Katsuki didn’t remember Izuku’s back muscles being as defined as that, especially around his shoulders. Had he started to use Katsuki’s workout routine behind his back? Did he go train in secret at their gym? Did he have another work out partner besides Katsuki?
The thought made him walk even faster.
When he reached Izuku’s side, the bastard was leaning back, head turning to follow the bartender that had just left to attend to other customers. He was a cute guy, brown haired and short with a killer smile and a very impressive neck tattoo.
He was nothing like Katsuki. Jealousy twisted his guts even more than alcohol-induced nausea.
Without thinking, he plopped down on Izuku’s lap, throwing his arms around his shoulder and pushing his face into his neck.
“’Zuku,” he whined, drawing out the name and not caring about the way Izuku’s body went stiff under him. He tightened his grip. Would he have stayed relaxed if I was the bartender? “I’m tired. This place fucking stinks and their drinks are shit. I wanna go home.”
He nuzzled into the sweaty neck, slightly frowning when the smell wasn’t quite right. Izuku smelled like pine tree and mint because of that cheap all-in-one bodywash he used since elementary school. The smell that hit his nose was earthy, yes, but it had sweeter undertones that he couldn’t quite figure out. A perfume? When did Izuku put on perfume? He didn’t even own one.
Did he get it from one of the people here? Did he want to make himself smell good so more people would flock to him?
Katsuki raised his head to tell him what he thought about that, lips pursed and eyes burning from more than the sweat falling into his eyes when–
“While I won’t complain about having an angel like you drop into my lap, I fear there’s a little bit of confusion, here.”
Katsuki blinked. That voice– it was all wrong. Too deep, too snarky, too sultry. As much as Katsuki suddenly wanted him to, Izuku had never spoken to him like that. He hoped he had never spoken to anyone like that.
For the first time, Katsuki took a good look at whoever the fuck he was currently cuddling in the middle of a crowded club.
Straightening properly, he looked at a very amused face and– yeah. Definitely not Izuku.
Beyond the hair and general build, Not-Izuku looked nothing like Real-Izuku. His face was more angular, cheekbones well defined. His nose was perfectly straight, unlike Real-Izuku’s cutely crooked one from getting it broken one too many times. His lips were plush, pulled into an attractive smile that showed off the beginning of dimples.
The most damning evidence was his eyes. Slanted, not doe-like. A light grey color, not the bright green Katsuki knew all too well.
Katsuki stared harder, leaning in slightly as he spotted some freckles across his nose, but none on his cheeks. It was all wrong.
“You aren’t Izuku,” he stated, feeling a pout form on his face – a bad habit he really couldn’t shake off.
The guy chuckled. It was objectively a nice sound, but Katsuki liked Izuku’s giggles better.
“I mean, if it keeps you here , I can be whoever you want,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But my name isn’t Izuku, no.”
The rational thing to do would be to apologize for invading some stranger’s space like that and get up.
The non rational thing would be to pout even harder and not fight back the tears gathering in his eyes.
Katsuki was too drunk to care about rationality right now.
Not-Izuku’s smile faded. His eyebrows furrowed, the flirty glint in his eyes being replaced by concern as he straightened up. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to look for that Izuku guy?”
Katsuki hated how choked up his voice sounded, all small and pathetic when he muttered, “No fucking need, he’s probably making out with some fucker in that stupid bathroom.”
And no matter how much he tried to hold them back, the tears started to spill. Well, fuck his eyeliner, then. Not like it mattered anyways. The only reason he had put on any was for Izuku to go all wide-eyed and stutter through his words as he complimented the look, a blush rising on his face.
And while he had gotten exactly that, it clearly hadn’t been enough to keep Izuku’s attention on him. Did the person he was making out with wear eyeliner at all? Or did they look nothing like Katsuki, since Izuku obviously didn’t want him?
He heard Not-Izuku say something over Katsuki’s shoulder, but he was too focused on trying to wipe his tears to care. Why did they just keep coming? He didn’t want them. Izuku hated to see him cry.
Katsuki startled when a glass was suddenly shoved in his face. He shakily grabbed it, peering in. The liquid was clear and didn’t smell like much of anything.
Vodka?
“Water,” Not-Izuku said. His voice was completely different from earlier, a bit higher but still smooth.
Katsuki blinked up at him before slowly nodding. Yeah, he definitely needed some water after that bout of crying.
Downing the glass in one go, Katsuki nearly moaned at the heavenly feeling. God, he hadn’t even realized how parched he was. Why didn’t he stick to water all night? Those cocktails weren’t even that good–
Oh right. To have something to do while Izuku was caught up in a conversation with yet another girl at the bar.
Whatever happiness he got from the water vanished, leaving behind the pit in his stomach and the feeling of rejection gnawing at his insides.
“Hey.”
Katsuki looked up. Not-Izuku was watching him, still concerned but now smiling slightly. It wasn’t the near smirk of earlier, but something softer and nearly sympathetic. Katsuki wished he had the strength to feel offended at being obviously pitied by some random guy, but right now, he would take any comfort he could get.
“You know, I once went into a bar after getting dumped and spilled my entire life story to a girl I met because I threw up on her. Woke up to the worst hangover of my life but I definitely felt better after unloading all that shit to someone I would never see again.” He smiled again, a lopsided and honest thing. “Wanna try it?”
Katsuki mulled it over, mind slightly hazy and still feeling so fucking sad.
Telling a stranger about the shitshow that was being in love with Izuku, at midnight, in a no name bar, right after crying over the guy– that was a new low. Even his drunk mind could recognize that.
But between that and getting up to go look for Izuku while dreading what he would find, well. One option preserved his heart more than the other.
And so, Katsuki opened his mouth and started to talk.
Izuku painstakingly made his way through the crowd, which seemed to have doubled in size since his trip to the bathroom. He had gotten caught up with helping a guy figure out what to text back his shitty ex who was trying to win him back. In the end, they had settled on ‘should’ve thought about that before fucking my sister’ and blocking him.
Hearing the whole story had horrified Izuku. The fact that some people were capable of so much cruelty towards someone they supposedly loved was unconceivable to him. The idea of ever hurting Kacchan made him want to break every single one of his bones and jump from a building.
Talking about Kacchan, Izuku finally emerged from the crowd, smile already growing at the idea of reuniting. So what if not more than twenty minutes had gone by? Every second away from Kacchan was one too many.
Izuku finally reached their table, mouth already opening to apologize for the delay, before he stopped.
Kacchan wasn’t at their table anymore. Actually, it wasn’t even their table anymore, another group had taken it over.
Izuku frowned. Had Kacchan gotten impatient and left? He had looked like he was in a bit of a sour mood earlier. It wasn’t all that surprising. Izuku was actually surprised Kacchan had accepted to go out at all. He had already been prepared to have his suggestion shot down and prepare for a cozy night in.
The thing is, Izuku loved going out. Sure, getting shitfaced every once in a while was fun, especially when he did it with friends, but it wasn’t even the main reason why he loved it so much. There was just this thing in clubs, especially past midnight, where everyone could talk with everyone as if they had been friends for years. He couldn’t count the number of times he stayed all night with people he met minutes prior, laughing and telling each other stupid life stories before parting ways and never seeing each other again.
There was something so human about it all, so precious.
Izuku loved it, and he had been meaning to show Kacchan what it was like. Knowing him, there was an eighty percent chance Kacchan wouldn’t like it, but he had wanted them to try it together at least once.
But now, the witching hour was just around the corner and Izuku didn’t want to push Kacchan past his limits.
He had wanted to pick him up as soon as he was done in the bathroom so they could catch the last train, but if he had to look for Kacchan in such a crowded place, there was no way they would make it on time. Taxis were ridiculously expensive at this time, but oh well. Better than walking back home.
With a frown, Izuku turned on his heels and started looking for Kacchan.
He didn’t even bother with the dancefloor, knowing that no matter how drunk he was, Kacchan wouldn’t be caught dead dancing in public.
He immediately walked to the bar, most likely area where Kacchan could be and– bingo! There was no mistaking that head of spiky blond hair. Izuku immediately smiled – an instinctive reaction whenever he saw Kacchan – and was just about to run up to him when–
When he properly took in the scene in front of him.
At first, his brain simply blanked.
Because there was no way, right? His eyes were just playing tricks on him. It was probably all those flashing lights and the highly alcoholic blends he had downed earlier. Yeah, that must be it.
There was simply no way in hell he was currently seeing Kacchan sitting on a stranger’s lap, arms around his shoulders and intently listening to whatever said stranger was saying. It was impossible, not something in the realm of possibilities.
Izuku denied it until he saw Kacchan pout, saying something that made the guy throw back his head and laugh.
And suddenly, gone was the numbness.
Something hot, and vicious, and furious washed over him, narrowing down his field of vision to the scene playing out in front of him. He picked out each detail, from Kacchan’s smudged eyeliner – why was it smudged when it had looked perfect earlier – to the guy’s hand on his back, placed dangerously low – why was Kacchan allowing this. He saw how relaxed Kacchan was, despite being basically cuddled up to a stranger. He saw how, from behind, the guy looked an awful lot like Izuku.
Same curly green hair, same broad back, same white shirt.
Except that he was not Izuku and that should be enough for Kacchan to not even glance twice at him. Why would Kacchan look at anyone else? Why would he waste his time with some knockoff lookalike when Izuku was right here, ready to fulfill his every need already?
Kacchan had never dated in all the years Izuku had known him. People had obviously been stupid enough to shoot their shot, but Kacchan always turned them down without a hint of hesitation. Izuku knew Kacchan’s only kiss had been him, when they had both felt like ‘trying it out’ in second year.
Izuku being Kacchan’s first and only everything was only right. It was how things should be, how they had always been.
But Izuku had never had a lapful of a teary, pretty Kacchan hanging off his every word, not even an inch of space left between them.
He had been stupid. He should have never left Kacchan out of his sight for even a moment. As fun as nightlife was, it was also no secret that a lot of people went out with the goal of not going home alone. After spending so many years being so secure in his relationship with Kacchan, everyone around them knowing that there was no looking at Kacchan too long when Izuku was around, he had forgotten that not the whole world knew that rule already.
That to some, Kacchan was ‘single’. A beautiful, ridiculously hot single guy who must have looked all pouty and dejected from being left alone by Izuku, just ripe for the taking.
Izuku saw red.
He didn’t even realize he was moving until he was right next to the duo, hating how much closer they appeared with every step he took. Kacchan was all pressed up against the guy, eyes never leaving his face as if whatever he was talking about was the most interesting thing in the world.
Even if Izuku knew Kacchan was actually listening to him when he rambled, he had never gotten this look.
The fact that someone else was at the receiving end of it, was being bathed in Kacchan’s attention and affection–
A very violent imagery appeared in Izuku’s mind, something about dragging this guy away from Kacchan in the most painful and bloody way possible. He needed to make an example out of him, have everyone know that Kacchan was not available.
As soon as he was by their side, Izuku didn’t wait. He leaned in, wrapped an arm around Kacchan’s waist – making sure to have it serve as barrier between him and this guy’s disgustingly sweaty torso – and yanked him up.
Kacchan yelped, and probably would have lost his balance if Izuku didn’t secure his other arm behind him. He encircled Kacchan’s waist and made sure to bring him particularly close, front to front. Now this was right.
“Kacchan,” he said softly, trying and failing to hide the strain in his voice.
He didn’t even glance twice at the extra he could feel staring at them. Instead, he focused on Kacchan, who was slowly blinking at him, eyebrows furrowed in a very focused expression. Izuku wanted to kiss that cute pout on his lips. He wanted to shove his tongue down Kacchan’s throat, hands on his waist and ass, and show everyone who might be watching that only he was allowed to have that.
After careful examination, Kacchan’s face lit up, “You are Izuku!”
Izuku blinked, blind fury making his fingers twitch and dig into Kacchan’s sides. What, had Kacchan forgotten all about him for the short time he was in that extra’s arms? He needed to get close and actually think about it to remember his name?
Izuku’s smile felt like a blade slowly cutting through his face, grotesque and ill-fitting.
You know what, that was fine. He had a thousand ways to make sure the only name Kacchan ever remembered was his. He would take his sweet time with him when they were home.
For now, he repressed his desire as much as he could. Instead, Izuku opened his mouth to ask Kacchan what the fuck he thought he was doing when his eyes narrowed down on his eyeliner. From back there, it had looked like sweat was the culprit, but from up close, he could clearly make out tear tracks.
Kacchan had been… crying?
Izuku slowly turned his head to finally look at the extra, who was watching the scene with a neutral expression. A distant part of his brain registered that the guy looked nothing like him, which only fueled his anger. He was so obviously not Kacchan’s type, why had he even wasted time on him?
But that wasn’t what mattered right now. What did was the fact that he had found Kacchan in this asshole’s lap, crying.
“Who the hell,” he started, just as softly and strained as earlier, but with a threat underlying his every word, “do you think you are to put your dirty hands all over him? What did you do to him?”
Izuku glanced down at that fucker’s arms. Which one had he put around Kacchan? Should he rip it off? He couldn’t put his hands where they didn’t belong if Izuku chopped them off.
The fucker had the gall to lean back in his chair, manspreading even further as he crossed his hands in his lap.
The very picture of arrogance. Izuku wanted to deck him so hard, his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.
“I didn’t force him to sit in my lap, if that’s what you are worrying about,” he said with a stupid smirk, eyes cold as ice.
Izuku was almost distracted by the way Kacchan had stopped holding his weight and fully collapsed into him, mumbling something about ‘Real-Izuku’. It took a lot of willpower – and murder intent – to stay focused on the bug in front of him. “Oh yeah? So what if he sat there first? He’s obviously drunk and took you for someone else.”
Because that’s what it was about, wasn’t it? Kacchan had seen the head of green hair and thought it was Izuku. Obviously. Why else would he bother with this guy? The only thing he should care about was Izuku.
“Indeed, but we started talking and there wasn’t any other seat available. Would you rather I made him stand up? He doesn’t seem very steady on his feet.”
Izuku’s eye twitched. The motherfucker was mocking him. He was using Kacchan’s inebriated state to mock him.
Izuku breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. He counted up to ten before gently setting Kacchan against the counter, making sure he wasn’t about to fall over – and ignoring his cute protests with a heavy heart.
Then, he turned around and smiled down at the extra. He smiled back.
Fatal mistake.
Izuku moved at a speed that would have made even a well-seasoned villain flounder. He grabbed the guy by the back of his hair – viciously pulling at it for the crime of having fooled Kacchan – and slammed his head against the bar.
The guy cried out, a pained, pathetic sound that made Izuku sneer. He watched with detached satisfaction how the fucker’s perfect nose was now sitting at an awkward angle, blood gushing out. Izuku ground his face against the hard surface of the counter, enjoying the way he whimpered.
“Strange,” he said, voice conversational. “Not so mouthy anymore. I wonder why.”
“You– You fucking–”
“Finish that sentence and I will finish the job.”
To prove his point, Izuku abruptly let go of his hair and kicked the back of his legs. The extra crumbled to the ground, hands flying to his nose and eyes teary.
Izuku almost felt bad. Then he remembered those same filthy hands being on Kacchan’s waist, so very close to his skin, and suddenly, he felt way too merciful.
Glancing up at the surrounding crowd, Izuku gauged how much more he could get away with in such a public space. Nobody seemed to have noticed anything amiss, too distracted and inebriated to care. Unfortunately, someone was bound to notice if he went to the full extent of what he wanted to do.
Sighing, Izuku looked down at the extra. He was groaning in pain, all curled up on the filthy floor as he tried to stop the bleeding. He made for a truly pathetic sight, and a cowardly one too. Not even trying to fight back? How weak.
That’s what Kacchan wanted to replace me with? Izuku thought, anger twisting his mouth.
The thought of being kicked out of the bar – or having the police called on him, which sounded much more likely – suddenly became secondary. Did he risk a first or second degree murder charge if he shattered a glass against the fucker’s skull hard enough to break it?
Izuku was right about to decide that didn’t matter when hands suddenly shoved him back, breaking him out his reverie.
Kacchan grabbed the front of Izuku’s shirt, eyes wild and panicked as he shook him, and much more sober than he was earlier. “Izuku, what the actual fuck are you doing?!”
Izuku’s face felt his face go flat, fury wiping it clean of any other emotion. Because the only thing his brain could process right now was that Kacchan was standing between him and the extra, shielding him and yelling at Izuku.
His blood turned into lava. “What do you care?” he spit, hands finding Kacchan’s wrists and holding them in a vice-grip. “You want to fuck him? Think he’s good enough for you?”
Kacchan had the gall to look at him as if he was acting crazy. “Fuck him– Have you lost your damn mind?! We were just talking!”
Izuku sneered. “I don’t recall needing to push your tits right into someone's face to ‘talk’.”
The words brought back that cursed image to the front of his mind. The way Kacchan’s height advantage and position on his lap made him tower over the guy. The way it leveled the fucker’s face with Kacchan’s chest perfectly. Had he thought about putting his mouth on it? Had he thought about taking one of Kacchan’s nipples in his mouth, sucking on it until Kacchan was a whining, writhing mess?
Izuku’s attention zeroed back on the extra, painstakingly sitting up, and he suddenly decided that he needed him dead right this second.
“Izuku!” Kacchan yelled, shaking him again. Izuku glared sullenly at him, Kacchan returning it tenfold. He sighed sharply, shaking his head as he forced Izuku to take one more step back. “Okay, we are fucking done here. We are going the fuck home before you get the police called on us.”
Izuku wasn’t happy about the extra being allowed to walk away with the memory of having Kacchan in his arms. Nobody should have this privilege besides Izuku. How could Kacchan possibly be okay with that?
He was just about to ask him that, protests on the tip of his tongue, when Kacchan turned his head. Izuku couldn’t comprehend the movement for a moment, because why would Kacchan turn away when Izuku was right in front of him? What else was worth his attention?
His brain blanked when Kacchan’s gaze settled on the extra, mouth twisting apologetically before he opened his mouth. As if he was about to talk to the guy.
Yeah, over Izuku’s dead body.
He let go of Kacchan’s wrists to grab his face, forcing it back around. Kacchan’s eyes landed on him again, startled and vaguely offended, but Izuku cut off any and all protests before they formed.
“Eyes on me, Katsuki.”
Izuku wanted to say more, he wanted to remind Kacchan how pathetically the guy had crumbled after one tiny hit, so obviously weak and undeserving of Kacchan. But he stopped himself, watching with interest as red eyes went from startled to wide, pupils dilating. Kacchan’s breath hitched, hands tightening around Izuku’s shirt.
Izuku tilted his head, smile growing as he noticed a blush that had nothing to do with alcohol creeping on Kacchan’s neck, dusting his cheeks before reaching his ears.
Oh?
Before Izuku could properly enjoy the adorable sight, Kacchan shoved him again.
“Move, asshole, I wanna go home.”
This time, Izuku obliged him easily. He didn’t glance twice at the extra as he intertwined their hands and started pulling Kacchan towards the exit.
Of course, his sudden good mood couldn’t last.
“Hey, Katsuki!”
Izuku and Katsuki looked back at the same time, though with vastly different expressions. Izuku hoped whatever the guy saw on his face would haunt his nightmare. Still, it wasn’t enough to intimidate him into silence. The fucker slowly pushed himself to his feet, and glanced warily at Izuku before focusing on Katsuki.
Izuku wanted to gauge his eyes out.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said loudly, wiping the blood still trickling down his face with a grimace. “Dude is into you alright.”
Izuku’s head whipped around, just in time to catch the way Kacchan blushed even harder, looking down. Oh, hell no.
“Kacchan,” he called, voice icy. Kacchan glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “What the fuck is he talking about.”
Was there someone else Izuku needed to worry about? Someone Kacchan was interested in enough to tell some random stranger about?
Who? Izuku could count on one hand the number of times Kacchan went somewhere without him. He would have definitely noticed if his eyes lingered on anyone for too long. He would have taken care of that little problem right away.
No, there was no way. The extra was fucking with him. He definitely had a death wish. Izuku was more than happy to fulfill it.
Before he could, however, Kacchan grumbled something under his breath and pulled on his hand. Izuku followed, but all his goodwill was gone.
As soon as they were standing in the cold night air, away from the stink of sweat and alcohol, Izuku was on his case.
“What was he talking about Kacchan? What were you two even ‘talking’ about?” He couldn’t help the way he sneered the word. “Why weren’t you waiting for me at the table?”
He didn’t expect the acidic look Kacchan sent him. “What, I was supposed to stay on my ass for an hour while you were chatting up some extras? Like a good little dog waiting for his master?”
Izuku frowned, overlooking the image that last sentence brought to his mind for the sake of his sanity. “Chatting up people? Kacchan, what are you talking about?”
Kacchan suddenly looked away, mouth turned down. Izuku could read the anger in his twisted fists and hiked up shoulders, but he knew Kacchan. He could see right through the façade he put up for the rest of the world.
He could see the hurt lurking below.
Stopping, he pulled on Kacchan’s hand until he was facing him. His eyes were still riveted on the ground, but a soft touch against his jaw made him glance up. Izuku instantly felt like the world tilted on its axis.
Kacchan’s eyes were brimming with tears. Partly from the anger, definitely from hurt.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, pained and now on the verge of tears himself.
Kacchan tsked, sharply looking away, but he didn’t try to step back. Right when Izuku opened his mouth, he blurted out, “You’re an asshole. You dragged me out there for ‘fun’, but you barely paid me any attention. You talked to every extra you saw, always laughing and smiling at ‘em. If you just wanted to flirt with everything that fucking moves, you should’ve said. Would’ve spared me the fucking trouble.”
Izuku gaped like a fish as he watched Kacchan violently wipe his eyes with his free hand.
His mind flashed back on how the night had gone all the way to when he left for the bathroom. Except that this time, he tried to see it from Kacchan’s point of view.
God, he had messed up. He had messed up terribly.
He let go of Kacchan’s hand – which earned him an even more hurt look that shattered his heart – and immediately cupped his face, thumbs swiping his wet cheeks.
“Kacchan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how it would look like to you. I swear I don’t actually care about any of them, I just wanted to show you how easy it is to talk and have fun when you go out.” He stepped even closer, catching Kacchan’s gaze when it tried to flicker away. “Kacchan is always my priority. I never want you to feel ignored around me.”
Kacchan huffed, but his shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, well, you did a terrible fucking job.”
Izuku was nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Really terrible. I must absolutely make it up to Kacchan.”
That piqued Kacchan’s interest right away, and Izuku couldn’t hold back his smile. Izuku loved everything about Kacchan, but one of his favorite things was how Kacchan always perked up at the idea of being spoiled. It embarrassed him, made him huff and snap, but he would always get this curious, impatient look in his eyes.
God, Izuku loved him.
He pretended to think for a moment, humming and pursing his lips.
“What about we go home and I draw you a nice, warm bath? I bought you the new bath bomb that brand you love released.” Izuku nearly turned into a puddle at the way Kacchan’s eyes started shining, even more so from the leftover tears. “And I can make you a nice tea and heat up the food my mom dropped off this morning? Have a nice dinner?”
Alcohol loosened Kacchan’s iron control on his facial expressions, just enough for a smile to peek through. Izuku matched it tenfold, even more so when Kacchan didn’t immediately agree, protesting just for the sake of it.
“Drawing a bath when we are both drunk as hell? We will either crack our skulls open or drown, idiot.”
Izuku raised an eyebrow. We?
He hadn’t exactly planned to join Kacchan in the bath – though the temptation was strong – ready to just stay beside him. Clearly, Kacchan hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Warm satisfaction trickled through Izuku’s body.
See how Kacchan considered Izuku a permanent fixture of his life? See how he didn’t even doubt for a second that Izuku would be right there, by his side? See how he had already forgotten about all those other people – about that fucker?
“Don’t worry, Kacchan,” he said, dropping a kiss on his jaw. He didn’t pull back, looking up into soft red eyes. “We will make it work.”
The next morning, Izuku woke up to their bathtub dyed in red and a very grumpy Kacchan.
Or well, grumpy for about five minutes. Then flashes of their night out came back to him, apparently, and he quickly switched up to absolutely furious.
“Are you purposely fucking stupid or is it a natural talent?” Kacchan was yelling, whacking Izuku’s head whenever his anger boiled over and couldn’t be contained in words. “You useless fucking nerd! If you can’t even handle your stupid fucking alcohol, then don’t fucking drink and embarrass me!”
Izuku winced as Kacchan hit him again, his headache growing worse by the minute. He was kneeling on the floor, hands on his thighs and head hung in shame.
Or well, what would look like shame to Kacchan. The only guilt Izuku felt was from the fact he didn’t actually regret last night at all, even without alcohol coursing his veins. Looking back, he would even say he had been quite sober throughout the whole thing, mind startingly clear as he came up with different method of torture.
Saying that would definitely not help his case, though, so he remained quiet.
He heard Kacchan sharply exhale above him.
“Anything to say for your stupid self?”
Izuku peered at him from under his bangs, pouting when he was met with a burning glare. “Should’ve kept his hands to himself,” he couldn’t help but mutter, this time expecting the hand that landed harshly on his head.
“That’s not a goddamn reason to break someone’s fucking nose, Deku!” Izuku didn’t try to hide his offense at the nickname. Kacchan barely ever called him that, unless he thought that Izuku’s behavior went beyond the confines of stupidity to land in brainless territory. He got hit again. “Don’t fucking look at me like that! You deserve it!”
“Well, he deserved it, but I don’t see you beating him up for it,” Izuku muttered resentfully. Then he was hit with the image of this little fucker in his place – kneeling in front of Kacchan who was in nothing more than sleep shorts and loose tank top. He felt the embers of last night’s anger roar to life again.
The world would spin in reverse before Izuku allowed this guy anywhere near Kacchan ever again. In fact, he had already planned to never go back to that bar. Or that general area. Or any bar, for that matter.
Maybe they should move cities. Just to be safe.
As if sensing Izuku’s thoughts, Kacchan hit him again. “What the fuck did you just say, asshole?!”
Had he been muttering?
“Yes! We aren’t fucking moving because you decided to beat up a guy for no reason!”
And that was more than Izuku could accept. He snapped his head back up, frowning. “What do you mean, no reason?”
Kacchan looked at him as if he lost his mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? What would fucking justify you breaking the guy’s nose?”
And Izuku opened his mouth to answer, ready to list every reason as to why he should have done much worse, actually. This waste of space of a man had put his hands on Kacchan, used his alcohol-induced confusion to keep him unacceptably close, prevented Kacchan from coming back to Izuku– The offenses went on.
But before he could, something caught his attention.
Curiosity flashed in Kacchan’s eyes at light speed, unnoticeable if Izuku wasn’t used to picking up every one of Kacchan’s mood and thought.
Realization slammed into him, and he couldn’t help his slow grin.
“You don’t remember,” he stated, not a shadow of doubt in his mind.
Still, the blush that creeped on Kacchan’s face, and the way he immediately hit him again before stalking off with a few yelled curses was confirmation enough.
Scrambling to his feet, Izuku followed Kacchan into the kitchen.
“Kacchan, do you really not remember anything at all?”
Habit made Izuku swiftly dodge the spoon chucked at him.
“I remember everything just fine, shitty nerd!” Kacchan said, though he only flushed even harder. Izuku raised an eyebrow, shit-eating grin probably looking maniacal by now, and waited. Finally, under his breath, Kacchan muttered, “Just… not the first half.”
Izuku was too caught in his laughing fit to dodge all the other utensils thrown at him. All the anger from earlier was drained out of him, replaced by euphoria.
Kacchan didn’t remember.
Kacchan didn’t remember Izuku leaving for the bathroom.
Kacchan didn’t remember looking for him.
Kacchan didn’t remember sitting in the fucker’s lap and talking to him.
Kacchan didn’t remember the fucker – beyond probably blurry memories of Izuku rocking his shit.
Suddenly, everything in the world was right again. The sun was shining, birds were singing, life was so beautiful, he felt like crying.
Ignoring the spatula that flew right by his face, Izuku walked forward and scooped Kacchan into a hug. Kacchan struggled a bit at first, calling him every name under the sun, before reluctantly relaxing in the hold – like he always did.
“You are so perfect, Kacchan, you know that?” Izuku whispered, last bit of tension vanishing as he melted into the familiar warmth of Kacchan’s body.
Perfect just for me.
The fucker didn’t matter anymore. Last night didn’t matter.
Because right now, even if he was still muttering curses and threats under his breath, Kacchan lazily wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist, hooking his chin on his shoulder. Right now, Kacchan was in his arms, in their apartment, sharing his life with Izuku, with no memory of anyone else.
Just for me, Izuku thought again, and smiled.
He would let the day pass, let Kacchan cool down and properly forget all about last night. Then he would scoop him up in his arms again and properly ask him out. He would take him on one, two, an infinite number of dates. He would kiss him, sweet and slow. He would fuck him until the only name he remembered was Izuku’s.
He would make sure to uncover every single part of Kacchan he may have still kept hidden from Izuku. He would leave his mark on every single one of them, worm his way under Kacchan’s skin and make a home there.
He would make sure that not a single person who walked this earth would look at Bakugou Katsuki and not see Midoriya Izuku written all over him.
Izuku smiled again, dropping a kiss on Kacchan’s flaming cheek and leaned back to properly look at him.
Kacchan was still angry, glaring at him and purposely digging his nails in Izuku’s sides. But under all of this, he was soft, blinks slow and weight mostly resting against Izuku. Relaxed. Trusting.
Just for me.