Archive of Our Own

Deku… Come on…

The words reverberated in his memory, like an echo in a sprawling canyon. The image of Katsuki was imprinted in his mind, his arm outstretched with the orange of his glove beckoning him forward. His old classmates, his UA family, all there to support him, gleaming with fist pumps and boisterous cheers as he publicly unveiled the suit for the first time.

It was surprising how efficiently it came to life. With the quick snap of the silver brackets, the suit sprung forth, each slim piece interconnected like a puzzle, enveloping his body as if by magic. It was a marvel. Inconceivable, he thought. But, if anyone could make the impossible possible, it would be the wild creativity of a pink haired gearhead and the methodical determination of a well-kempt blonde. Each individually, brilliant in their own right. Together, there surely could be no limit to their potential.

His body froze until the suit was on him. It was surprisingly light and flexible. Katsuki’s form came into focus, with an impatient, yet reassuring, expression drawing him toward the crowd. Before he knew it, he found himself clad in high-tech armor, tears swelling as he navigated the cherished faces, each brimming with enthusiasm as they gathered to celebrate the inaugural display.

Deku… Come on…

“Excuse me, sir?”

Izuku was brought back into the present moment, called forward by a woman wearing a worn blue store apron.

“The machine over there is open.” She gestured to a check-out stand with a green light awaiting the next customer.

He lifted his head abruptly at her voice, snapping back into the reality of the fluorescent lighting and the dull beeping of the checkout scanners in use. “Right! Sorry.” He shuffled forward with a plastic red basket in hand. Pulling out the toothpaste and shampoo for the scanner, he wondered why he even bothered with a whole basket for the two simple items.

He finished his payment, and made his way toward the exit, taking note of the row of Lemillion figures positioned on a shelf next to the checkout aisle. Haven’t seen that one before, he observed of the small bobble heads, reaching out to feel the springy bounce as he gently pressed down on the yellow plastic hair.

The air was breezy as he entered back to the sidewalk with shampoo in hand, and the toothpaste he stuffed into his jacket protruded just above the pocket.

Deku… Come on…

The words continued to replay like a song stuck in his head, unconsciously resurfacing without warning. It was a day after his friends had gathered to celebrate the suit, and Izuku found his mind continuously returning to the image of Katsuki standing before him, encouraging him forward. When they were all unexpectedly called to action, he was barely prepared, rusty. The whole experience left him with more questions than answers.

He took a deep breath, and looked up toward the foliage. A light wind rustled the canopy above, and Izuku observed several persistent dogwood blossoms drift towards the pavement. He let out a sigh, and moved forward to resume his walk back to his apartment. Everything was the same as it always was. Each step forward fell upon the same concrete he had traversed hundreds of times before. The recognizable trees and buildings, all familiar features. Yet, he found himself drifting like the falling blossoms, as if whisked off to new terrain by an external force.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled out the device from his pocket to see All Might’s name across the screen. He exhaled and tensed his eyes shut for a brief moment before silencing the call.

I can’t.

He inhaled again, counting to six, before exhaling slowly. After a moment, he returned the phone to his pocket and continued his walk. He approached the familiar intersection and turned down the street, slowing his pace as he neared his building. A hesitation arose in his chest, and he recognized a reluctance to return home.

His phone buzzed again, and he apprehensively pulled his attention to the device. A text from All Might.

All Might: Hey kid, I leave late tomorrow night. If you're free, I’d love to take my two favorite heroes out for dinner tomorrow.

Heroes… 

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the word. So many years had passed, and he had long since relinquished the title. It felt strange to read. His heart quickened in excitement, but soon turned to a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He let out a deep sigh and looked up to the branches of the tree above. He didn’t respond to the text, but instead leaned his back to the tree trunk.

After a moment of strumming his fingers along the textured bark, he returned his attention to the streetscape. He foisted himself forward and approached his building, looking up to his unit to see a scruffy mutt on the window sill with two small paws pressed against the glass. His lips instinctively curled into a smile at her sight, and the tension in his stomach was soothed for a moment.

After navigating through the building lobby and up to the fourth floor, a few short barks through the door greeted him as he approached.

“Lady All Mutt!” he cooed upon entry, her little paws jumping at his calves as he squeezed through the cracked door. “Yes, yes. I am here,” he assured in his best All Might impression. He crouched down to her level, placing the shampoo beside him on the floor and ruffled her scraggly fur. She jumped upwards onto his bent knee, licking at his face as he leaned to nuzzle her wiry coat.

“What a scene.” Katsuki emerged from around the corner. He leaned casually against the hallway wall, taking in the two entangled on the floor.

“Oh! You’re home? Thought you were working today?” Izuku rose to his feet and the little mutt weaved in between their legs as he moved closer to Katsuki.

“Eh, I was. But, there wasn’t anything urgent. Decided to come home early.” Katsuki reached for Izuku’s hand and pulled him closer, drawing him in to meet his lips for a brief kiss.

“Huh, sort of not like you,” he retracted from Katsuki’s embrace and took off his jacket to hang on the rack, followed by his shoes.

“Well, sometimes I’m full of surprises. In case you didn’t notice.”

“Um. Yeah,” Izuku’s eyes widened, and darted away from Katsuki’s gaze. “A lot of surprises lately…” he mumbled quietly and distracted himself by organizing the shoes into a straight line.

Katsuki shifted his posture, watching as Izuku continued his uncharacteristic reordering of the hallway shoe collection. “Well. I uh. We didn’t really get a chance to. I don’t know. Talk about yesterday?” He fell back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest.

Izuku stood up and positioned himself at Katsuki’s side, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he tried to look casually into his gaze. After the hectic upheaval the day before, he had tried to exude some semblance of gratitude. He knew it fell flat, retreating into himself with excuses to avoid conversation. So much effort was put into the entire gesture, and he tried again to channel a sense of appreciation. He brought his hand to Katsuki’s cheek and paused in the crimson eyes before him and pressed gently against his parted lips.

“Plus, I didn’t get to tell you how fucking sexy you are… all suited up,” Katsuki murmured, placing his hand at Izuku’s waist. “Made me just want to rip all that fancy ass gear right off you,” he confessed, his fingers drifting to the small of his back.

A heat rose across the back of Izuku’s neck. “Um. Okay.” A small distance increased between them as he shifted from Katsuki’s hold, twisting to position his back against the wall. He looked away.

Katsuki fully released his grip from Izuku’s waist, running his fingers through his hair. “Did I say something… wrong?”

“No!” He shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I just. I think I ate something weird today. My stomach has been a little messed up.” It was a lie, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Oh. Alright…” He rolled his lips shut and nodded slowly. “Sorry to hear,” he tried to comfort, assessing the subtle nonverbal signals between them. ”You think you might be okay for dinner tomorrow? I told All Might we’d meet him.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “Oh, you did?” He grasped beneath his hair at the base of his neck.

“Yeah. But if you're not feeling well. I guess… Yeah. Whatever you want,” he said with a shrug, his face stoic and unflinching as he repressed any expression of disappointment.

“Uh. Yeah. Probably I’ll be fine.” He attempted a slight smile. “I don’t know. I might need to decide later. Think I’m actually going to lie down?”

“Dang. That sucks, that you're not feeling well. Yeah. Do what you need to do.”

“I’m sorry…” Izuku squeezed his eyes shut.

Katsuki shook his head, grabbing his hand to pull him forward toward the bedroom, their scruffy companion following at their feet. “Deku, you don’t have to apologize for not feeling well,” he assured and opened the door. The little mutt jumped onto the mattress, beckoning Izuku to join her side.

“Your problem child is waiting for you?” He gestured to the bed with a subtle smile. Izuku inhaled and moved forward to the mattress, collapsing onto his side. Lady All Mutt quickly assumed her position as littlest spoon, crawling into the crescent of his curled body.

“Thanks, Kacchan,” he muttered, his voice muffled by a face full of fur.

“Take it easy, alright? And, yeah. Don’t worry about All Might. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, his eyes now fluttering closed.

Katsuki let the door fall shut, and he was alone again. He pulled the little mutt closer into his chest, sensing into the warmth of her body and the rapid rise and fall of her breathing.

“Thank you, Lady,” he whispered to the dog and scratched behind her ear, letting her unconditional love ease his unwelcome discomfort.

————

Fucking Uraraka was right…

Katsuki exhaled a sigh after gently closing the door behind him. He made his way to the kitchen, and perused the fridge. If Izuku wasn’t feeling well, he probably wasn’t going to be hungry for dinner. Yet, on the off chance he might stomach something, he might as well make it simple.

He hated when Uraraka was right, suggesting that Izuku might need more time before gathering with all of class A. The idea that she knew more about Izuku than he did infuriated him. He didn’t plan for such a spectacle, nor did he anticipate a mudslide to call everyone into action. In fact, originally, it was just going to be Uraraka, Todoroki, and Iida joining him in the unofficial ‘christening’. Yet, the word spread, no thanks to Kirishima, and Mina insisted on making a full class A celebration of it. Before he knew it, she had told Izuku of her plans, and he acquiesced in politeness to her enthusiasm.

“He’s not going to like this much attention”, Uraraka had warned. But, it was too late, and Izuku insisted he was fine with everything. Katsuki could tell by the forced smile that he was working hard to stuff all his discomfort aside to accept the loving gesture.

It was less than a week ago that All Might came unexpectedly to town. The suit was finished a few weeks earlier than Katsuki was originally prepared for, though the whole endeavor took far too long from his perspective. After six years of saving, planning, and waiting, Izuku could finally be everything Katsuki knew deep in his core he deserved to be—a pro hero, working alongside all his former classmates just as he had always dreamed. There was no one that deserved the title of hero more than Izuku.

The idea for the suit started back in high school. “What if you had a suit, like All Might did?” You could still be a pro hero! he had suggested to Izuku shortly before graduation.

“Kacchan, I lived my dream already. Besides, All Might nearly died, and that suit was so expensive!”

He knew Izuku would never dare make a fuss or advocate for it. For Katsuki, it was unfathomable how the person who sacrificed everything could be so easily tossed to the sidelines, like some forgotten relic. Izuku was not a relic. He was a living, breathing icon. Katsuki wasn’t ready to let his dream disappear, even if Izuku wasn’t ready to make that happen.

Katsuki gathered a clay pot, adding the rice and dashi as he set the mixture to a low heat. He continued to mince some ginger and scallions for garnishing. They were out of pickled plums, but there were some carrots and radishes he could throw together in a quick brine to add a little extra something.

If the meal didn’t provide comfort for Izuku, it at least offered a distraction for himself. The whole week hadn’t quite panned out the way Katsuki had hoped. It wasn’t that he expected Izuku to jump with joy and profess his undying gratitude. He didn’t make the sacrifices and put in the effort just to receive his affection or recognition for being a ‘good person’. Yet, Izuku was difficult to read. He insisted he was grateful, excited for what was to come next. But, occasionally he would catch hold of his gaze, and his green eyes weighed heavy, vast and still like the calm before an ocean storm.

Izuku suddenly seemed to be so busy with commitments, staying late at work, and going to his mother’s unexpectedly mid-week.

He’s just insecure. He’ll come around. He has to, he tried to affirm himself.

After nearly an hour, the rice porridge was finished, and Katsuki placed the dish to the side, covering it with a lid to retain the heat. He tried to busy himself further, deciding the fridge could use a clearing and began to inspect the condiments and leftover items to see what could be tossed.

“The fuck is this?” he grumbled beneath his breath, pulling out a mysterious opaque Tupperware tucked far in the back of the fridge, hidden behind cartons of juice. Deku! he thought to himself, shaking his head as he uncovered the unpleasant contents he was not prepared to reveal.

Suddenly, with the sound of the door creaking open and scurrying paws, Katsuki left his task to the side. “Yeah, yeah, little mutt. You want some of this chicken I bet,” he bent down the scraggly dog now at his feet. “Don’t look at me with those dumb eyes!” He ruffled her fur and then proceeded to tear a tiny piece of chicken from the plate he had set aside for himself.

“Siiit,” he said, elongating the word as he leaned over her, the chicken cupped in his hand as he awaited her response to the request. She continued to stare up at him with round eyes, her tail swishing back and forth as she ignored the command.

“Kacchan! Don’t give her that! She’ll get spoiled,” Izuku reprimanded, wandering slowly behind as he emerged from the bedroom.

“What? It’s training!” he rationalized. “Besides, you're the one always spoiling her like a fucking princess.” He continued to hold the meat above, staring down at her with an insistent glare. “Sit,” he repeated watching her half squat several times before finally taking a full seated position. Katsuki let a half smile emerge as he bent down to reward her obedience. “Was that so hard, little mutt!” he whispered, letting her lick the remaining juices from his fingertips.

Katsuki lifted himself back to standing, moving towards Izuku. “Hey, you... uh. Are you feeling better?” he asked, scanning Izuku. He looked exhausted, his eyelids heavy and his face drained.

“Oh! Um. Sure. Yeah. Better.” His tone was unconvincing as he forced a smile.

“Well. I made some okayu, just in case. If you want to try to eat something.”

Izuku’s face softened, and his smile relaxed into something more sincere. He moved closer to Katsuki, and wrapped an arm around him. “That’s really thoughtful. You’re… sweet.”

“Tch. Don’t let the press hear you. I have a reputation to uphold,” he scoffed, brushing Izuku’s hair lightly with his fingertips. He looked down to the dog who was sitting at their feet, begging for another chicken scrap. “And you.” He shook his head at her pleading gaze. “Don’t go thinking I’m a softie all the time, little mutt.”

Izuku released his arm from Katsuki’s waist and moved toward the counter, pausing to inspect the Tupperware left by the sink. He lifted the lid slightly ajar and winced.

“If that’s what you're eating, no wonder you feel like crap!” Katsuki joked, observing Izuku's scrunched brow.

“Sorry, Kacchan! I’ll clean this—whatever it is?”

Katsuki moved closer, reaching for the container. “Don’t worry about it. You can just, I don’t know, take it easy?”

Izuku quickly pulled the Tupperware into his possession. “It’s fine. I got it.”

He reached again. “Deku, if you’re not feeling well, just let me—”

“Kacchan! Stop being so... so… nice!” he suddenly erupted. “I can do this dish. It was my mess!” His expression turned, and the creases of his brow subtly accentuated in tension.

Katsuki backed away, lifting his hands to the air in surrender. Clearly he struck a nerve.

“Alright! Jeez! I was just. I don’t know. I was just trying to help.”

Izuku continued to busy himself with the task, tossing the food into the garbage, banging the container against the trash with a loud clang. “Well, I didn’t say I needed your help…” He turned the faucet on high, the sound of the spray against the hard plastic masking an audible sigh.

“Izuku,” Katsuki began.

He didn’t respond, maintaining his focus on the dish, squeezing the sponge with unnecessary force as he continued.

Katsuki retreated from the kitchen, Lady All Mutt trailing at his feet. He collapsed onto the sofa and slumped forward, his head landing on a curled fist. “What are you looking at?” he asked the dog, now sitting on the floor between his splayed legs. “Come here.” She jumped into his lap and draped herself over his thigh.

Izuku finished the task but remained standing at the sink with eyes shut, slowly breathing and counting, as he often did to ground himself. After a few breaths he turned, taking note of Katsuki on the sofa crouched over the dog, rubbing his brow with his forefingers.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan…” he apologized, sliding next to him on the sofa. The dog shifted from Katsuki’s lap to squeeze in the small gap between them.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” Katsuki twisted to face Izuku.

“It’s nothing really. I don’t know why I reacted that way,” he tried to dismiss, averting his gaze down to the dog.

“Fuck Izuku, just say what your really thinking!” He snapped and pressed his head to the wall, tugging at his hair in exasperation.

Izuku didn’t react and continued to stare blankly at the dog, petting her coarse fur with increased pace. He nearly opened his mouth to speak, but silenced himself before the words could emerge.

“Look, if you don’t think you deserve the suit. If that’s what this is about.” Katsuki lifted his head, bending toward Izuku in an attempt to make eye contact.

“I mean. That’s part of it. I guess,” Izuku started, still soothing himself with the touch of fur beneath his fingers. “I guess, I just feel weird. That all this time, you didn’t tell me what you were doing. Why did you keep this all a secret?”

“Well if I told you, would you have let us do this for you?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku didn’t respond.

“I wanted you to have your chance. It wasn’t right… that no one was doing this for you!” Katsuki shook his head vigorously. “I went to Hawks. He wouldn’t do it. Some fucking bullshit that insinuated it could set a bad precedent for the commission. That it would be perceived like they were manufacturing weapons.”

Izuku abruptly lifted his head and his eyes widened, as if he had never even considered the implications of this technology.

“Well, maybe he was right?” The words came out tentatively.

“What the fuck. He was not right!” Katsuki retorted, knocking his head back to the wall. “I wasn’t asking him to make an army of suits. Just one.” He returned his gaze to Izuku’s. “For the person who saved the goddamn world from total collapse!”

“Kacchan, but you never asked if I wanted this?” He brought his elbows to both thighs and dropped his head into his hands.

“Well, of course you want this?” It came out more of a question than a declaration, suddenly unsure of what he previously perceived as blatantly obvious. “It’s only been your dream for a lifetime. And, I know it’s hard for you to accept help from people. But we wanted to do this. I wanted to do this.”

“It’s not that!” Izuku jolted his head upright from his hands. “Well it is that. But it’s more than that.” He turned, and for the first time since the conversation began, he landed in Katsuki’s gaze, his brow tightly pulled together.

“Kacchan, I feel like you have been lying to me for years. And, you don’t trust that I know what’s good for me?”

Katsuki squinted his eyes, surprised by the accusation. His heart rate suddenly escalated, realizing the full implication of what Izuku was feeling. He knew he was lying. Lying all the time. When he stayed late for work. When he took extra shifts. His clandestine conversations with All Might, or his trip to I-Island disguised as a secret mission. He hated all the omissions and excuses. But, it would be worth it, he had thought.

Shit.

“Well, when you say it like that… I wasn’t lying to you. I just wasn’t telling you everything…” Katsuki tried to explain. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might interpret his actions quite this way. He had convinced himself, and everyone around him, that this was the most logical way. If anything, he thought Izuku might have a hard time accepting the help, but ultimately he would see the love behind the gesture, perhaps even think it was sweet.

He felt panicked, his cheeks flushed at the thought of Izuku internalizing his actions as disrespect. He was suddenly flooded with guilt, along with a tinge of anger at the notion his intentions were overshadowed by his methodology. He inhaled deeply, trying to stuff down his frustration.

Izuku lifted himself from the sofa, the dog now tracking his movement as he began pacing back and forth. “I mean, you must have made up a lot of excuses. And, lying by omission is lying.” He paused before continuing, grasping the back of his neck. “Plus, you got everyone to do the same? Even All Might?” He paused and his eyes fell shut. “All because I’m so bad at life, that I can’t be trusted to make my own decisions?”

“Deku, that’s not what anyone thinks! I just thought—” He sank into the seat, trying to consider his words. It did sound pretty crazy when he laid it all out like that.

“Well, you can’t deny you always put everyone first. I know you, and I knew you would say no. Just to save the inconvenience.” He folded his arms across his chest and let out a deep sigh. “I just wanted you to live your dream. You fucking deserve that! You don’t need to be just a teacher—”

Izuku suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to face Katsuki directly. “Just a teacher?” His glare cut straight across the room, striking Katsuki’s chest with enough force to make his stomach clench.

Fuck! Not good.

“Just a teacher?” he reiterated, his voice equal parts pained and frustrated.

“Izuku—”

“Is that what you think of me? That it’s something to be ashamed of?” He resumed his pacing and the dog jumped off the couch, dodging his feet as she entangled herself in his movement.

“So, for the past two years, I've been going on and on about my day, and you're thinking, ‘Oh that’s just dumb teacher shit.’ Did it occur to you that maybe I actually like being a teacher? Maybe I’m good at that?” He stopped pacing and turned to face Katsuki directly. “Maybe inspiring others is being a hero!”

“Izuku, listen! I didn’t mean—”

“Do you even love me?” Izuku paused. His glossy eyes crashed into him, and Katsuki found himself breathless. “Or… do you just love… Deku?” he finished, his voice dropping, along with his eyelids. Katsuki’s mouth fell slightly agape as he remained frozen, pummeled by the impact of his words.

Holy fuck… How did I get this so wrong.

They fell silent, each inhale elongated and heavy. After a moment, he shook himself to standing and joined Izuku at his side. “Izuku, that’s crazy. You have to know I love you. All of you!” He reached for Izuku’s hand, but it jerked instinctively away.

“I just. I need some space…” He explained and backed away, retreating toward the bedroom. He paused beneath the doorframe and opened his mouth as if to say something, but just exhaled deeply before turning into the room.

“Fuck!” he mumbled beneath his breath and collapsed next to the dog, now looking back and forth between Katsuki and the empty shadow of Izuku’s absence. Katsuki reached to gently scratch behind her ear.

“Go!” he whispered to her, coaxing her forward toward the bedroom. “He needs you more.”

————

Izuku stared forward at the bed, as Lady All Mutt nudged the cracked door open, brushing past to jump on the comforter. He pressed the door shut and launched onto the bed face first, grabbing a soft pillow and pulling it beneath his cheek.

The little mutt circled closer and pushed her way under his arm before collapsing at his side. Izuku turned and curled into a fetal position, cradling the dog close to his chest. Lady All Mutt had only been part of their household for about one month, but in that moment it felt like she had been at his side forever. He gently stroked her belly, and she shifted further into his embrace. “Lady…” he murmured and let his eyes fall shut.

Just a teacher…

The words stung, but it confirmed what he feared most, that Katsuki wished he was more—something that was lost long ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be a pro hero. He loved pro heroes. His whole life revolved around pro heroes. He just didn’t know what his role was anymore, if it was even his dream.

”If I told you, would you have let us do this for you?”

He could almost see the logic behind his argument. He would have never said yes, if asked. Someone different surely would have found the whole endeavor hopelessly romantic. So, why did he feel so betrayed?

He opened his eyes and scanned the room, taking note of his All Might clock at the bedside table. Typically, his exaggerated plastic grin brought him comfort—a little nostalgic reminder that no matter what difficulty he faced, nothing was ever written in stone. Each passing moment was an opportunity for hope. He reached and turned the figure to face away, suddenly uncomfortable with the cheesy plastic smile staring at him. He didn’t feel in the mood for cheerful optimism.

Lady All Mutt twitched in his arms from his movement and squirmed a small stretch. Her breathing deepened. He redirected his focus to the scraggly dog in his grasp. She felt so perfect in his arms. So unconditionally loving.

“At least you don’t care if I’m a pro hero,” Izuku whispered. He kissed the top of her head, and she let out a weird grunt. Izuku inhaled into a subtle smile, taking in her unkempt presence. He loved all the strange little noises she made, especially in her sleep. The distraction was just enough, and he found his eyes flickering shut again.

He was too tired to cry, or further replay Katsuki’s words in his mind. “Silly, sleepy Lady,” he murmured softly, and continued to stroke her wiry fur. It was all he could manage at the moment, and the rise and fall of her belly lulled him to near slumber, until eventually his body succumbed to a shallow sleep.

————

Katsuki was on the floor, laying backward and staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were wide open, wider than they had been for the last six years.

Just a teacher… Fucking idiot!

His palm curled in tension, and he dropped his fist to the wood with a subtle thud. He didn’t know why it came out that way. He didn’t even mind that Izuku was a teacher. He figured he could do both, if he wanted.

None of this unfolded how he expected. In retrospect, he should have anticipated his reaction. Did he not know Izuku better than anyone else? Did he not even want to be a pro hero? The possibility never crossed his mind.

His mind flashed to a scene with All Might on the other end of a screen, one of their first conversations to discuss Project Deku.

“Maybe you should just tell him? I’m worried all this secrecy has been taking a toll on you,” All Might had suggested, prodding through the screen with an air of fatherly concern.

“You know that self-sacrificial bastard will make us stop! I’m not going to let his stubborn ass get in the way of what’s right.”

He shook his head, noticing the pressure from the weight of his skull as it rolled against the hard floor. It wasn’t him All Might should have worried about. He huffed a small chuckle under his breath. It was almost funny, if it wasn’t so pathetic. There he was, thinking Izuku was so stubborn, when he should have been looking at himself.

It was a lesson he kept learning over and over again, but somehow always seemed to end up in the same place. Why didn’t anyone else warn him? Not even Uraraka?

Kirishima was the first to know of the money he had squirreled away, working extra shifts almost immediately after graduation. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. When the rest of Class A found out more than two years after his efforts began, they all clamored to contribute. Even All Might was eager to jump in eventually, contributing a hefty sum from his biopic royalties.

If there was any skepticism about the secrecy, they were willing to accept the plan, acknowledging Katsuki’s rationale as understandable. Even Uraraka agreed, despite the burden she carried for her discretion. Their main concern was how to keep Kaminari and Mina from exposing the whole operation, which nearly happened on several occasions.

It was never his intention to violate his trust, his autonomy.

Why doesn’t he see we did this—I  did this, for the goddamn love of that fucking nerd!

Still laying on the floor, his fingers traced between the joints of the wood planks. He tilted his head, observing the carefully arranged and curated selection of collectibles along a pair of floating shelves. He lifted himself to a seated position, leaning back on his palms with his knees half bent. His mind drifted to a few months back, Izuku unwrapping his paired down boxes of precious items after moving in.

One shelf, Katsuki originally prepared Izuku before the move. He knew it wouldn’t be enough, so he mounted the second one ahead of time. Izuku burst into a smile as wide as All Might’s when he saw the additional space. As the unpacking settled, a few additional ‘treasures’ seemed to sneak into little corners and nooks—a full set of All Might dishware, his favorite All Might fleece blanket, the clock on the nightstand. Why they even made these things was a mystery to Katsuki. Who were these people, aside from Izuku, buying an All Might soap dish or oven mitt?

He foisted himself from the ground, and stood at the shelf, taking in the various All Mights in distinct positions. He picked up a figure, small enough to be fully cupped in his palm.

“There’s nothing special about it, but it’s my favorite,” Izuku shared while arranging the collection to his satisfaction. “It's the oldest one I still have. Got it with you at the arcade when we were really little.”

Katsuki didn’t remember the moment, but he couldn’t help but smile thinking of Izuku saving the insignificant, worthless plastic all these years later.

His thumb grazed over the worn ridges of his tiny features. It was all so simple before this week. He didn’t know the last time he hurt Izuku like this. He exhaled a loud, audible breath and curled his fingers around the little All Might.

Goddamn fucking nerd! I will make this right.

————

Izuku cracked his eyelids open, awoken by the sound of a buzzing. He adjusted himself, wiping the drool from his face and lifting himself to sitting. Lady All Mutt wiggled in response and stretched with a squeaky yawn.

A text from All Might.

All Might: I heard you aren’t feeling well. No pressure for dinner tomorrow.

Great… he thought, imagining All Might’s eyes sunken in disappointment. Yet, before he could dwell much further another message popped up.

All Might: Just know. I am proud of you. No matter what. Suit or no suit. Quirk or no quirk. You will always be a true hero.

He read the message, and then re-read the message. It was nice, but he wasn’t sure why he sent it, wondering if Katsuki said something to him. He exhaled and drew his hand to his forehead. What was he supposed to say to that?

He brushed his fingers through the dog's fur and sent a heart to the message, turning the screen to black in hopes that it was enough to end the exchange.

He turned the All Might clock back to face him, noting that he had been asleep for nearly an hour. “Shoot, it’s after your dinner! How did you not wake me?” He immediately whisked himself from the mattress and made his way through the apartment. It was as if the little mutt knew what he needed in that moment, letting him rest until he awoke naturally.

He poured the kibble into his ceramic bowl holding it above her head and finally coaxing her into a sit after a few attempts. As she eagerly engaged in her meal, Izuku looked around the apartment to notice the quiet solitude. Katsuki was gone.

He was relieved for the privacy, but also uncertain by his absence. He shrugged and noticed a slight pang in his stomach. He wasn’t actually sick, and despite his anxiety, he was a little hungry. He rifled through the fridge and took out the pot of okayu to reheat.

Why did Katsuki have to be so complicated—equal parts insensitive and caring? He couldn’t deny the thoughtfulness of the gesture. This is what made the situation all so infuriating. He felt so many things, which in turn made him feel ungrateful and guilty.

After a few minutes, the food had heated and he ladled himself a portion, adding a few of the garnishes Katsuki had prepared. He brought his meal to the table, and savored the first bite. He didn’t know how Katsuki could transform something so boring into something so flavorful.

Near half through his bowl, he absent mindedly scanned the room and noticed from the corner of his eye that his collectibles had been rearranged with an unfamiliar display. He walked over to examine the shelf, observing a mug at the center with brightly colored lettering reading, Best Teacher! amidst a cheesy graphic of books and apples. It was overflowing with pens, and he lifted one out of the cup. “My favorite brand,” he whispered.

He grasped the mug from the shelf and a slip of paper floated to the ground. He bent to pick it up and read the note: I’m a fucking idiot!

He took the mug and note and moved to the sofa, dropping with force onto the cushion. He stared blankly at the cup and traced the words with his finger tips.

When did he get this? he wondered. He had only been asleep for an hour after all.

“Stupid…” he muttered to himself and shook his head. “This doesn’t,” he halted. “This doesn’t change anything,” he tried to convince himself, conflicted by the kindness of the gesture, and his lingering sense of hurt and doubt.

His palm grasped deeper around the cool ceramic, as he felt a notable lump in the back of his throat. He inhaled slowly in an attempt to repress the inevitable. Before he knew it, a bead of tears was rolling down his cheek. There was no point in restraint, and he let a salty stream flow freely, the mug jiggling in his hand as his chest rapidly shook in response.

Lady All Mutt was soon at his side, jumping onto the sofa and squeezing her way onto his lap. His subtle cry had turned into a sob, and the pens spilled onto the floor as the mug tilted in the wake of his quaking body. He inhaled several deep breaths, the dog now licking at his face.

I’m such a mess, he thought, and placed the mug on the table before him, lifting the dog from his lap to slip down to the floor. He tried to regain his breath as he started to collect the scattered pens.

He nearly gathered them all between ragged breaths when the door opened. Izuku listened to the sound of Katsuki taking off his shoes at the entry and dropped his head across his forearm. Katsuki emerged into the room, pausing at the sight of Izuku sitting on the floor. He was bent over the coffee table with his face burrowed into his folded arm, several pens loosely grasped in his hand.

“Shit,” he exhaled softly to himself and hurried across the room. He slumped down to the floor at his side, draping his arm around his back. “Hey!” he whispered in his ear. “It’s alright,” he tried to comfort.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan!” Izuku cried, his voice halting and muffled by the crook of his elbow.

“Izuku, you’re not the one that needs to apologize. I need to apologize!” he quickly reframed, his fingers continuously grazing his arm in a soothing rhythm.

Izuku lifted himself from his bent position and turned to Katsuki, releasing the pens to wipe his eyes free of the remaining tears. The dog still situated on the sofa above, inched closer, her wet nose pressing against the nape of his neck.

Katsuki brushed Izuku’s ruffled hair, and looked into his gaze, now a reddened contrast to the green of his eyes. “I went for a walk. Clear my head. I realize now. I was so arrogant. As usual,” he confessed, and pulled him into his chest.

“I know you thought. I get it, You thought it was what I wanted. And, I would never ask for it.” The words came out labored as he buried into his shoulder.

“Izuku, if you don’t want it. You don’t have to use it.” His fingers continued to glide along his back. “We can consider it a donation to science. Fuck, we can modify it for All Might. The old man’s aching to relive his glory days.”

Izuku pulled back from Katsuki’s embrace and turned his attention back to the table, rolling a pen absentmindedly back and forth. “No! I don’t want that. I don’t know…” He shifted his posture and leaned into the base of the sofa. “I just started to feel a lot of things. And, I thought maybe, you didn’t think I was enough. Just some quirkless teacher…”

“Fuck!” Katsuki’s head fell backwards, and he lifted a palm to his forehead. “That came out all wrong! I don’t judge you for being a teacher. You're seriously the best goddamn thing that happened to UA. I just thought, you could still live your dream too.” He paused, exhaling a soft sigh. “I mean, if it’s still your dream, that is.”

Izuku positioned the soles of his feet on the floor and wrapped his arms around his bent legs. “Honestly? I’m not really sure anymore,” he admitted, and pressed his cheek to his knees. “I think I just need time to unpack everything.”

Katsuki’s eyes softened, and a palpable stillness enveloped the space between them. The little mutt took the opportunity to wiggle her way from the sofa down to the floor, crawling into the crevice of Katsuki’s open lap.

“I shouldn’t have surprised you with this,” he eventually began, his hand falling gently to stroke the dog's coarse fur. “I just… I didn’t want you to shove it all away. Because you didn’t want to be a burden.” He continued to scratch at her chin, watching Izuku as he sat quiet with his head still resting on his legs.

“I know you always put on a happy face,” Katsuki continued after a moment. “To show that you're satisfied with how things are. But, I know that’s not the whole story. I know there’s a part of you that misses it. I have seen it beneath the surface.”

Izuku bit down on his lower lip. He did miss being a hero. He missed One For All. But, the suit could never fill the void of what was lost.

“I guess. Sometimes, I wonder if I even have what it takes. Without One For All?”

Katsuki abruptly twisted his position to face Izuku directly, Lady All Mutt foisted off his legs in the process.

“Izuku.” He paused, ensuring he met his gaze before continuing. “That is the fucking craziest thing I ever heard! Your biggest strength was never One For All. Your biggest strength has always been you.”

They lingered in the weight of his words, maintaining focused eye contact, before Katsuki nodded to reinforce his conviction.

“You fucking deserve this—more than anyone,” he added. “Even more than All Might.”

“I don’t know about that,” he dismissed.

“Eh. He’s a has been,” Katsuki replied with a smirk.

Izuku sat upright and tilted onto Katsuki’s shoulder. His lips lifted into a soft smile. “Thank you, Kacchan.”

The dog slipped in the middle and curled herself into the small space between their legs. They sat in a prolonged silence, both reaching for the comforting touch of Lady All Mutt.

“I’m sorry. I got so thrown,” Izuku eventually shared. “I guess when you kissed me today. You said I was hot in the suit…”

“Yeah? Hot as fuck.”

“I guess, I thought, maybe you’re more excited by Deku… then well, plain me?”

“Shit. Izuku!” He rolled his head back in exasperation. “I think every version of you is hot as fuck!”

“Really?” Izuku looked up from his shoulder, his forehead scrunched as he fished for further reassurance.

“I guess, I thought that was painfully obvious by now,” he shook his head with a sarcastic grin. “You’re fucking sexy as a teacher too!” he assured. “You just never let me say it. You feel like a creepy perv, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that’s true,” he acquiesced, nuzzling back into his shoulder.

“Fuck. If you want it, I’m ready to be your naughty student.” He leaned into his ear. “Sensei,” he whispered, a breathy prickle against his skin.

Izuku squinted his eyes in aversion. “Nope. Still feels creepy!” He shuddered against his shoulder.

Katsuki shrugged. “Well, if that ever changes…”

His fingers lightly brushed against his bicep, and a pleasant tingle radiated across his skin. Izuku tilted toward Katsuki’s persistent gaze, pausing as he exhaled several pointed breaths.

“Shit,” he murmured. “Izuku. Deku. I want all of you.” His eyes stretched wide, as if to emphasize the sincerity of his declaration.

“Kacchan?” Izuku interrupted, after a moment of lingering in his tender confession.

“Yeah?”

“How did you know?”

Katsuki’s brow lifted as he awaited a further explanation.

“About the pens,” he explained. He grasped one from the table and thumbed over the imprinted brand name along the shaft. “That it’s my ultimate favorite brand?” he finished. A slight smile spread across his lips as he revelled in the simple delight.

Katsuki let out a breathy chuckle. “What? You think I could get through high school, drowning in my obsession with you and not notice your weird-ass fixation with your pens?”

“They only sell these at that art store across town!” Izuku further exclaimed.

“Yeah, nerd. I know. I’m the one who bought them.” He rolled his eyes and nudged him with his shoulder.

Izuku’s hesitant grin released into a toothy smile and shook his head, grabbing the mug from the table. “And this? When did you get this?” he asked, twisting the mug around in his grip to further inspect.

“Saw it next to some teacher appreciation day display,” Katsuki explained. “Thought it was the dumb kind of thing that would make you smile like a goofy idiot. Was planning to give it to you in a few weeks…”

Izuku clasped tighter around the mug and lifted his gaze to meet Katsuki’s, his eyes glistening and round. Soon, without warning, a burgeoning swell of tears was brimming at the corner of his eyes.

“These… are… good… tears?”

Izuku nodded vigorously, and wiped the dampness from his eyes. He reluctantly tore his gaze away and placed the mug back on the table with a clank, turning back to find Katsuki’s lips near touching his own.

“All of you,” he whispered, his warm breath like a fleeting summer embrace upon his lips. “Fucking love all of you.”

His words were a piercing jolt, and Izuku found his heart rate quicken. Nothing was resolved, but his body reacted instinctively, closing the slim distance between them. Katsuki’s lips crashed against his own, and he let out a quiet gasp.

Lady All Mutt, still situated between them, squirmed in response to their movement, squished between their intertwined bodies. Katsuki pulled back, and gently nudged her aside. “Out of here, little perv,” he called, motioning her away until she curled into a crescent under the table.

Izuku watched him intently, and as he returned to meet his gaze, he launched forward, capturing him in a kiss. His lips were soft, but not restrained, building to a rhythm that was laced with a familiar reverence. For a moment, all the tension and frustration was quelled in the sensation of their touch, tongues and lips entangled in a comforting dance.

“Is this… okay?” Katsuki, pulled back suddenly. “Are we… okay?”

Izuku stared forward, his hazy eyes lost in the tentative gaze before him. “I don’t know,” he eventually responded, his fingers curling subtly at the floorboards.

After a moment, Izuku reoriented himself toward the table. He found the lightly crumpled slip of paper with Katsuki’s hand written note, and retrieved one of the pens, enjoying the satisfying snap as he removed the cap. He reread the scrawled note to himself and proceeded to rewrite the message, a small smile lifting at the corner of his mouth.

He passed the note to Katsuki, and he took in the newly phrased message: I’m a fucking idiot! human…

“I’m… human…” Katsuki read aloud. His lip twitched as he remained fixed on the paper firmly grasped between his fingertips, scanning the text repeatedly to himself.

“I don’t ever want to hurt you like that,” he eventually responded. “I’ve already hurt you enough.” He shifted his gaze away from Izuku.

“It’s okay, Kacchan.”

“Actually, it’s not.” His eyes glanced back to Izuku, before letting out a strained breath.

“You’re right. It’s not okay,” Izuku began. “You’re stubborn and arrogant. Presumptuous. Not to mention, you’re apparently way too good of a liar, which is…concerning…”

Izuku paused, taking in his surroundings—the pens haphazardly sprawled across the table and the silly mug with cheesy graphics, the All Might figures and posters he tolerated, the half finished bowl of okayu on the kitchen table. His eyes landed on Lady All Mutt as she lay curled under the table, her chaotic fur a haggard mess. He smiled at her precious image, remembering Katsuki’s initial fury when Izuku brought her home. And yet, there she was, reluctantly slotted into his life with surprising tenderness.

“But you’re also kind and thoughtful,” he admitted. He dropped his head to Katsuki’s shoulder. "You're… human. Messy like we all are.”

“Messy.”  The word rolled around his tongue with a quiet weight. He glanced at Izuku from the side, dipping into his gaze—his earnest green eyes like two round pools of reassurance. He shook his head. “Now that’s an understatement,” he said with a soft smirk.

“I really meant what I said,” he continued after a moment. “A few modifications and we could give the suit to All Might? If that’s what you really want? Hell,” He shrugged lightly. “He paid a good chunk towards it anyway.”

The image of All Might came into focus, handing him the case, the number eighteen embossed across its metal cladding. In the moment the number felt heavy, a reminder of everything he felt he wasn’t ready to revisit. Now, he wasn’t sure who he was, or what he wanted.

The words of All Might’s message replayed in his mind.

No matter what. Suit or no suit. Quirk or no quirk. You will always be a true hero.

It was as if his autonomy had been restored at the thought of regifting the suit to All Might. Just the knowledge that he had agency in this decision was enough to dampen the looming pressure from the shock of their unprompted meddling.

No, he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Maybe he can buy a suit of his own?” Izuku suggested. He sat upright to gauge Katsuki’s response, his shoulders rounded in a hesitant posture.

Katsuki’s lips lifted subtly at the corners, and his eyes softened in relief.

“Well, if he stopped giving all his money away, he’d probably be able to buy ten suits,” he offered.

After a moment, Izuku brought a hand to Katsuki’s cheek, his fingertips trailing along the edge of his tensed jaw. He leaned in and gently pressed into a kiss.

“I’m messy too, Kacchan,” he admitted, their foreheads falling lightly together.

“Human,” Katsuki reframed.

Lady All Mutt, tired of her position on the sidelines, nudged her way back into the space between them, half extended over both bodies.

“Attention whore,” Katsuki muttered and nodded his head with a wry smile, pulling back from Izuku to take in the scruffy addition to their tableau.

Izuku let his eyes fall shut, his hand resting on Lady All Mutt’s comforting soft belly. Maybe he didn’t need all the answers right now. Perhaps the steady presence of a stubborn idiot who cared too much, and the quiet, unconditional love of a scrappy mutt, were enough. He was enough.

“Thanks for seeing me, Kacchan. All of me.” Izuku let his head fall to Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Izuku,” he shook his head. “Fuck. It’s me who should be thanking you. For seeing me. My messy, stubborn ass. And, still letting me be at your side. I mean. If you want me at your side?” He looked tentatively towards Izuku.

Izuku reached for his palm on the little mutt’s back, her wild fur weaving between their entwined fingers. “We can be messy together.”