"Could you pass me the water and some chicken nuggets?"
"Mm, sure. Ketchup?"
"Ugh, please."
Izuku grabbed the food from Ochako and shoveled it in his mouth, relishing in the basic, simple taste of shitty chicken nuggets slathered in ketchup from the far-too-many tiny packets scattered across the table. Cheap, greasy, but so goddamn good. And after being stuck in a crappy conference room with his friends for the past seven hours, nothing could've tasted better.
The past week might as well have been hell; he hadn't managed an hour on duty without some civilian shouting disgusting profanities at him, hadn't gone a day without being stalked in some form or another, hadn't gone any time without remembering Katsuki's tear-streaked face pressed against his chest and the horrible, horrible things his boyfriend had been told. Izuku was good enough at brushing aside the nasty words and accusations, but when they were directed at Katsuki, who'd done nothing to warrant them?
I've never wanted to fuck somebody up so bad in my life.
He'd gone to the gym after Katsuki left the next morning. Stayed there an extra hour, broke four more punching bags than usual, and didn't leave till the worst of his murderous thoughts had been taken out on a perfectly nonliving target. Despite the things people were saying about him, Izuku wasn't the type to threaten students, and now would definitely not be the time to prove the rumors right.
"Midoriya," Kirishima started, the exhaustion-ridden voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Did you already call the morning talk show? Ask 'em if they'd be okay with broadcasting it?"
"Yeah, yeah... it was a no," Izuku pursed his lips. "Don't think they're gonna wanna be the station I use, anyways. We're looking for primetime, not something to listen to on the way to work."
"That was one of the last ones on the list, though..." Ochako sighed. "Izuku, why is it so damn hard to find a news station that'd be open to having you make a ten-minute statement without interruption?"
He leaned back in his seat, chugging the water he'd been handed in one long gulp. "Why? Simple. If I go up there and make myself look good, they won't be able to break the news themselves and make a killing off of it. Me talking first takes away whatever element of shock they'd get from some big, dramatic headline. This shit will simmer down faster if I just go out there and say it, but they don't want me to be able to do that easily!"
"I mean, there is always a chance that they'll let this whole thing go eventuall—"
"For the last time, there's not!" Izuku's voice cracked, so, so tired after so much of this. "Reporters are gonna keep stalking me until they get something to show. News outlets are gonna keep vaguing the topic because Kacchan can't say a damn word against it. People are talking, and I... I-I..."
I don't want Kacchan to have to suffer any longer than he has to.
Just thinking about what Katsuki had told him—hearing his boyfriend's voice break, crumble away into his shirt, about how every tortured word had been dragged from his throat like fractured glass, about how he'd tried so hard, so hard to not let their comments get to him, but even then. Even then.
Kacchan hasn't had to deal with this crap before. Shouldn't have to deal with this, not now, not ever. And it's my fault he's in this position, so I... I should be the one to take the blow for it.
Izuku huffed, crumpling the shoddy plastic bottle in his hand. "Anyways. What's the next place on the list."
"The, um..." Ochako squinted, "the Majesty Times?"
"Who?" Kirishima asked. "Never even heard of 'em."
"Think it's just some small-time newspaper agency. Won't get the reach I want." Izuku grumbled. "Ugh, skip it."
But the remaining few press agencies weren't any better, and a few angry phone calls later found the three of them shouting at the ceiling, furious and utterly exhausted.
It's not like I want to do this, it's just the only decent way to keep Kacchan from taking as much heat...!
Izuku let his head fall against the desk and wrapped his arms tight around it.
Just let this nightmare be over, please.
"You, uh... you look a little sick, buddy." Kirishima frowned. "Need anything? Wanna go lay down for a bit?"
Some sound of acknowledgement must've come out, because Kirishima's hand came up to rub at his shoulder while Ochako pushed more food towards him from the other side.
"I-I can't do this anymore right now," Izuku said, holding back the angry tears as best he could. "Need a nap. A drink. God, something."
"After this is all over, I'm taking you out for drinks," Ochako promised. "Tab's on me. You deserve it."
"Damn right I deserve it."
They let him stay like that for a little bit, face flat against the table as he tried to recover, tried to breathe. Even his brief attempts of rest at home had been filled with too-vivid terrors, high-def horrors that made it hard to want to close his eyes. He'd scheduled an extra session—no, two—with his counselor, and at this point, Izuku was sure that those were the reason he'd managed to stay sane to begin with. His agency had even become sympathetic at this point, and as nice as the thought of paid time off sounded, Izuku knew better than to duck his head and make it known that the rumors were wearing him down.
"...hey, Midoriya?" Kirishima asked, too cautious and too gentle. "You remember what tomorrow is, right?"
"What, is it the day the media decides they're over me?" He let out a weak scoff, face half-smashed against the cool desk. "Hell if I know anymore. I think it's July?"
"It's, uh... dude, it's your birthday tomorrow."
...oh, shit.
Then—
"Oh, shit—!" He cursed. "Agh, told my mom I was gonna go out to her place this year. Kacchan's coming with me, too. Dammit, I really don't wanna deal with this meet the parents crap on top of everything else right now...!"
Not right now, not right now... god, I'm so tired.
"Not to mention, it's... it's gonna be our first anniversary," he hiccuped, wishing there was some way he could give Katsuki the kind of celebration he deserved instead of more troubles, more bullshit. "F-Fuck. I should probably sleep. I... I-I just—"
"First anniversary?" Ochako asked, more curious than anything. "Wait, you two started going out when we threw you that surprise party last year...?"
"Mhm. Was on my birthday." He sucked in a breath, trying his best to think of the good times, of Katsuki's brilliant smile, and of his voice—that warm, rough, broken—
Stop. Stop. Not broken. Not broken.
"H-He, ah..." Izuku bit his lip, forcing himself to not let these memories be distorted too. "Kacchan... Kacchan pulled me into the bathroom. Shoved me down to the toilet seat, sat on my lap, 'n kissed me. Asked me out in the cheesiest way. It was so stupid."
"So you liked it?"
"I loved it," he swallowed. "I love him. He's... h-he's everything I could've ever asked for and more."
We're not perfect, far from it, but Kacchan... I'm so lucky to have him in my life.
Izuku managed a long, slow breath in, then out, trying his best to relax in spite of the situation. "Sorry, sorry... think I'm gonna go home. I'm gonna need to at least try and rest before I get flayed alive by my mom tomorrow."
"Aw, I'm sure it won't be too bad!" Kirishima said, patting his shoulder again. "She seems cool."
Cool, yeah, but I have no fucking clue how she's gonna take me dating a high schooler when even just seeing me heroing me on the news is enough to make her worry.
But he wasn't in the mood to argue—instead, he nodded, stood up, and gathered what little he'd brought before hauling himself out the door and to the train. Maybe it was barely past eight, but Izuku was ready to crash in his bed and sleep for another twenty years. There might've been a stalker following him back, maybe a reporter or two, but he'd become too numb to the concept to even care anymore. Nonetheless, he was smart enough to stick a new reminder to the fridge to schedule yet another counseling appointment, knowing he'd need it after whatever trials the next day would bring.
At least I get to see Kacchan tomorrow, he told himself. At least I get to talk to him again. Hold him again. Maybe I can steal a kiss or two if I'm lucky.
Those thoughts got him through a shower, a shave, a breakdown, and a single glass of shitty wine before bed.
In less than twenty-four hours, my mom's gonna know about Kacchan. In less than twenty-four hours, I won't have to dread it anymore. And in twenty four hours...
He stared at the empty space beside him, at the burned mattress he still hadn't replaced.
Maybe you'll be here with me again, Kacchan.
Izuku fell asleep with a weary arm around his pillow, and a scarred hand in the hole his boyfriend had left.
———————
"You did tell her you were bringing me along, right?"
"W-Well, ah, about that..."
"Oh, don't tell me you're gonna have this be some sort of surprise," Katsuki snorted, leaning back against a column in the near-empty train station. "If I was her, I don't think I'd be too happy about my son just showing up on his birthday with a friend in tow."
Izuku fell into place beside him on the concrete column, tired. "I told her I was bringing someone else. Didn't..." he laced his fingers between Katsuki's. "Didn't say who it was or who you are to me."
His boyfriend fell quiet beside him, and despite having been fairly optimistic about meeting his mom before, Katsuki's apprehension was nearly palpable.
What can I do to make him more comfortable...? I guess the most I can do is keep myself from seeming scared.
So Izuku simply held his hand, waited for the train to come, and hoped that being near him would help. He was thankful enough that the station was more on the outskirts of town—going to towns as rural as his mother's didn't usually allow for any super fast transportation, but being out there with only a couple other people milling about in the station was fine, at least. The summer heat had been brutal out on duty, but now, in the comfort of a loose (long-sleeved, duh) shirt, and a simple hat and sunglasses, Izuku managed to relax more than he had in days despite what they were going out to do.
A part of him wondered if going to the country for the day would clear his head, or at least help him relax—and so far, those hopes were proving true.
"Hm? S'that the train?" Katsuki asked, pulling him from his thoughts. And sure enough, there it was—small, older, but the best part of it all—
There's hardly anyone here, and no one is paying us any mind.
Izuku hadn't dared to do it earlier. Now, though...
"Let's go, Kacchan," he said, and before either of them stepped forward, leaned down to peck him on the lips. "You can sleep on the ride there if you want."
Katsuki stood there for just a moment, clearly caught off guard by the sudden kiss; but it didn't take long for him to nod and follow along. Nobody gave them a second look as they boarded, and their cabin was empty save a couple of lonely passengers.
"...you did check to make sure no one was around first, right?" Katsuki glanced out the window, staring out at the now-barren station. "I know you mentioned having a bunch of people stalking you lately..."
"I did. I'm sure." Izuku assured him, and this time, Katsuki was the one to kiss him. Fuck the other people in the traincar—no one could see them from the position they were sat in, and if a little mouth-to-mouth was what it would take for him to get comfortable, then really, what reason did he have to refuse?
Plus, it's nice to see him initiate.
"Hey, Kacchan."
"Hm?"
Izuku wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close to his chest. "You wanna come to my place after we get back? We can cook dinner, catch up, cuddle..."
There was a shift of a head against his shirt before there was a verbal response, and not for the first time, Izuku couldn't help but marvel at just how perfectly Katsuki fit against him.
"Sounds good," he said, happier than he'd sounded in so long. "Wasn't sure if we were gonna be able to do anything on our anniversary... I don't have a whole lot to give, but even just being around you for a while would be great."
"Wanna make out on the toilet again? You know, a little reenactment from last year?"
"Oh, shut up...!"
They laughed, and Katsuki reached for his free hand again, calloused fingers tracing bumpy scars in the way he'd loved doing even before they were together. But for some reason, Izuku noticed a certain thing about the small, gentle movements this time.
His hands, they've... "really gotten bigger."
"Huh?"
"Your hands," he repeated, and moved to place Katsuki's on top of his own. "They... they're almost as big as mine are."
Katsuki didn't say anything for a minute, maybe two—but when Izuku turned to look at his face, his watery eyes and small half-smile told him everything he needed to know.
"Guess they are," he murmured, squeezing them again. "And they still fit."
"They fit even better now, I think." Izuku kissed him on the forehead, thankful that the seats were tall enough to block them from view. "...but, you'll still never be taller than I am."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Katsuki snorted. "Remember what I said a while back? I like being shorter than you."
"Right, right... I guess it is good for spooning."
There was a kiss to the back of his palm, then another beneath his chin. "Is your mom tall, too?"
"Nope, she's short. Shorter than you."
"Green hair?"
"And green eyes."
"She mumble as much as you do?"
"...w-well, I had to get it from somewhere!"
"Heh. M'excited to meet her." Katsuki leaned back against his shoulder, and Izuku could hardly see those eyes fall shut beneath his ever-fluffy hair. "Like you said, anything that made you has to be pretty great, right?"
"Don't go quoting my panic texting! Listen, that was..." I can't say I don't agree with those thoughts, but— "that was a different situation. And besides, my mom's a far better person than I'll ever be."
"Nope."
"But—"
"Nope. You're great." Katsuki insisted, leaving no room for argument. "Don't make me pound it into you, 'kay?"
"Oh, you wanna do the pounding this time?" He grinned, and was soon met with a light elbow to the ribs. "What, you don't? I think it'd be fun!"
Katsuki groaned. "Look, I think the reason you couldn't shut up in front of my parents about our damn sex life was because you were too horny before you came out there, and something tells me you won't want I love doing Kacchan coming out of that pretty mouth of yours when it's your mom this time."
Not to mention that he might still be sensitive about all that, especially if he's still being bullied at school... fuck, right, I need to be more careful.
He offered a quiet apology, and his boyfriend grunted, tucked his head back against Izuku's chest, and fell asleep fast enough for the remainder of the ride there.
Maybe I should get some sleep too... ah, why not.
The cell service wasn't great to begin with, but today was a day to spend away from anything that could feed him garbage from the media. So he shut off his phone, put it away in his pocket, and let himself get comfortable with Katsuki for the time being.
I'm allowed to enjoy myself on my birthday, after all.
And finally, Izuku fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep—maybe it was only a couple hours, but that short time spent rolling through gentle hills and lush greenery was almost more restful that anything he'd managed all week.
"...Deku, s'this the stop?"
Ugh.
"Hey, Deku, you awake?"
Yeah, yeah— "yeah, m'awake," he mumbled, not ready to have been woken up already. "What'd you say before that...?"
He rubbed at his eyes as Katsuki repeated the question, and with a bleary look around the area, confirmed it. "Yep, this is the place."
Katsuki stared out the window, and for as much as Izuku liked the loud, brash side of him, there was always a part of him that couldn't help but feel lucky that he got to experience those quiet moments of thought and contemplation, too.
"It's small," he said, and Izuku laughed. "What? It's kinda pretty."
"It is, it is... ah, I just still find it funny that my mom's out here after having lived in the city for my whole life." He shrugged. "But she likes it here, and she's got real friends now... and really, that's all that matters."
"Hm. Makes sense." Cute, so cute. "Never really considered settling down in a place like this before."
"Maybe one day we can get a cabin up in the mountains. Live out in the woods together, hike every day, cook all of our food..." Izuku squeezed Katsuki's hand. "Anyways! Let's get going. Aha, don't wanna keep her waiting."
"...you don't sound super sure of all this yourself," his boyfriend remarked as they got off the train. "Positive she's gonna be okay with having me here?"
"Yep!" Nope! "Everything's gonna be okay!" Everything could go horribly wrong!
And sure enough, the squinted, incredulous look Katsuki gave him was evidence that the promises were as flimsy out loud as they were in his head.
"Well, we're already out here," Katsuki said, seeming to have resigned himself to whatever fate was coming. "Lead the way."
Rip off the band-aid. Get it over with.
Izuku reached a hand out to Katsuki, and his boyfriend took it—so natural, so normal.
"Right, right... come with me."
Katsuki stayed quiet the whole way through town aside from a couple quipped comments, a squeeze of Izuku's hand (or two, or three), and the occasional greeting to the few people who waved at them. But despite the fact that most of the town knew that Midoriya Inko's son was an (in)famous pro-hero, nobody treated them differently for it.
"See that?" Izuku asked, pointing to the small house near the end of the street. "That's my mom's place. She's got a small garden in the backyard, and all those flowers in the front she grew herself, too."
"Huh. So you both have a thing for plants, then?"
Some sort of realization spiked through his chest, and with a start, Izuku realized he'd never even considered that his inclination towards gardening had been in any part due to his family.
"W-Well, we both started doing it at different times!" He said, not sure what to make of it. "She only picked up the hobby after moving out here... a-and for me, I only started after my accident."
But as they stepped up onto the small, shady porch, Katsuki stopped in front of a certain planter box—nothing particularly special among the rest of the growing, glowing blossoms—and stared.
"They're orange, too." He traced the edge of the box, the noon sun highlighting every petal and every strand of blonde hair. "Just like that one you have."
"You always say 'that one'," Izuku murmured, standing behind him and looping one arm around Katsuki's waist, "like you weren't responsible for it getting to me in the first place."
"Nah, that was mostly Camie's fault," he said, "she just chose it cause it 'looked like me' or some shit. All I did was stand and nod."
"Hm, but still." Izuku kissed the top of his head, and hugged him closer. "It worked. Or maybe a love of bright orange flowers runs in the family—you never know, baby."
Katsuki huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Anyways, we should probably—"
"...Izuku?"
Oh, no.
He'd missed the creak of the opening door behind him, missed the soft gasp from the familiar voice, missed Katsuki stiffening in his arms as she stepped out of the house, those knowing eyes trained on the back of his head.
"H-Hey, mom..." Izuku forced a wobbly smile, dropping his hands from Katsuki's waist before turning near-frozen legs to face her. "It's, ah... it's been a while."
And for as hard as meeting Katsuki's parents had been, as hard as dealing with anyone knowing about their relationship was, nothing came close to the tidal wave of guilt his mother's confused, watery-eyed gaze sent crashing down on him.
"Is—is this your friend?" she asked, not meeting Izuku's eyes. "I don't, ah... I don't believe we've met."
"Bakugou Katsuki," his boyfriend said, stepping out and offering her a hand before Izuku could answer for him. "And just Katsuki is fine, ma'am."
He could hardly watch as his mom took Katsuki's hand and shook it slowly, obviously still confused and waiting for some explanation, or at least a confirmation of the situation. He'd told his mom he'd be bringing a friend, and while he hadn't told her who it was outright, looking back almost made it appear as if he'd meant someone like Kirishima or Ochako.
Not... not him. Whoops.
"Oh," he heard his mom say, and all Izuku could do was stay quiet. "I don't believe I've heard Izuku mention you before... you're the friend he said he was bringing?"
But when Katsuki was the one to fall into an awkward silence, Izuku knew he had to do something.
"Yes, that's... this is him," he tried to laugh, and moved a little closer to Katsuki. "I-I'm sorry for not telling you more before, it's just, he's—well he's, ah—"
"Is he a coworker?" she asked, more a plea than a question. "Izuku, is he—"
"My boyfriend."
Silence.
Silence, as if everything had come to a standstill.
Shit, shit, not already...!
"Kacchan—ah, K-Katsuki is my boyfriend." Izuku repeated, as if his mom hadn't heard him the first time. "A-And I didn't wanna keep you in the dark any longer, so we're... w-we're here."
His mom didn't look shocked, surprised, upset—but something indiscernible crossed over her face, and all that familiar dread came back in a rush.
"...how about we go inside," she finally said, and Izuku knew it wasn't a question. He nodded, numb from the tips of his fingers to his toes.
I... I don't feel great.
Just as he moved to enter, though, something grabbed his hand again—something warm, real, and so, so alive.
And this time, Katsuki was the one to squeeze it.
"C'mon," he tugged, pulling him towards the door. "Don't wanna keep her waiting, right?"
Right. "R-Right."
Izuku hated feeling useless, but for the first time since his accident, he felt as if every scrap of power in his body had crumpled away like wet paper. Normally, he was content enough with his life, with himself, with the people he surrounded himself with; but when put in situations like this with his mother, the single scrap of family still in his life?
I've already disappointed her in every other aspect of my life, so what's one more, really...?
They found their way to the couch, and despite his mom's steady, watchful stare, Katsuki only scooted closer up against his side. It was almost funny—he should've been the one in control, the one who knew how the hell to deal with his own family, but his boyfriend—
It's like he's trying to be some sort of guardian.
Katsuki had a solid grip on his thigh, and showed no interest in letting go.
Like he's... like he's some sort of hero. No, not just any hero—my hero.
And maybe, maybe, that would be enough to get them through.
"I'm glad that you were able to come out here, Izuku," she started, and all he could do was try to smile, try to nod. "Like you said—it really, really has been a while. When did you last come by? Gosh, the Christmas before last...?"
"Y-Yeah, that... that'd be correct." He swallowed. "Meant to see you last year on your birthday, but I was at the disaster site, and then work picked up, and..."
God, I'm such an awful son.
"I-I'm sorry," he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. "I'll... I'll do better."
But she only sighed and pressed her lips together, those green eyes of hers constricting him like old, weathered vines.
"Don't worry about it for right now, Izuku. I'd rather talk to you than see you upset on your birthday, of all days." She offered, and though the statement seemed reasonable enough, some part of him was still convinced that every moment spent in her presence only served to further her frustrations with him. "I bought ingredients for dinner if you'd want to help prepare something with me. You told me you've been cooking for yourself more, right?"
"Ah, well, most of it... I haven't really been going out to eat, so—"
"Cooking for yourself?" Katsuki snorted beside him. "Is that what putting a frozen pizza in the oven is called these days? Is that single slice of green pepper on it what you call eating your greens?"
And suddenly, the room went quiet.
...quiet, save for the soft, growing chuckle from the other side of the room that could have only been coming from his mom.
"Is this true?" She asked, as if trying to find some sort of amusement in the downcast haze of negativity. Not an accusation, merely a question. "I suppose it could be worse, but..."
"I—I cook for myself enough!" He protested in vain. "Kacchan's just exaggerating, I..."
Izuku faltered, less so because of the question and more because he hadn't explained just why Kacchan was Kacchan and why he'd even know about his cooking habits in the first place.
"S'okay, Deku," Katsuki said, patting him on the leg. "Hm... you make pretty good eggs, I guess?"
"Don't play, you've eaten my cooking with enthusiasm before." He pouted. "What about my curry? You like my curry."
Katsuki huffed. "You're right, you're right... it could still go for a bit more spice, but it ain't ba—"
"Katsuki?"
His boyfriend immediately fell silent, obviously uncomfortable despite his pieced-together wall of confidence. When Izuku was the one being talked to, Katsuki must have felt more at ease joining along. But now, with that gaze now directed at him...
"...why are you calling my son Deku, of all things?" What little smile she may have had dropped, replaced with some form of concern. "That's—you know that doesn't mean anything good, right?"
Oh.
"I-It's—well," Katsuki stumbled, clearly caught off guard, "when we first met, I misread 'Izuku' as 'Deku,' and... it, uh, stuck?"
Wait, but... "don't you remember the rest?" Izuku frowned. "You said it kinda sounded like you can do it. Never anything negative, not at all."
"Oh, right. Everything's still kinda cloudy cause I was so doped up on painkillers and just out of it, and—"
"I-I'm sorry, doped up on painkillers?"
...shit.
His mother's alarm was stark in her voice, as if the fragile glass was finally starting to crack. "Just—just how did you two meet!? And also, why on earth are you calling this ki—I'm sorry, why are you calling your boyfriend Kacchan?" She shook her head, looking from one, to the other, then back again. "Look, Izuku, I know we haven't talked much at all in the past—well, a very long time—but not telling me that you have someone as important as this in your life, especially after everything you've been dealing with? It'd be one thing if it was just a casual partner, but it sounds like you two have known each other for... for a while."
Izuku fidgeted on the couch, and Katsuki's hand had gone eerily still.
"So please, just... tell me," she said, half-whispered and half-begged. "Tell me about whoever's managed to get so close to my son."
Whoever's managed...? Hold up, don't— "don't say that like there's something wrong with him." Izuku bristled. "He's not a threat, n-not like that, so don't treat him like one. Okay?"
Already raising my voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck...!
He valued his relationship with his mom—or at least, valued it in the way that insurance was valued. Indispensable when you need it, but a burden otherwise. They'd learned to agree to disagree in most every situation; learned not to mention work, or home life, or much of anything that wasn't simple small talk. Despite the hole the strained relationship left in his chest, though, anything was better than a full-on falling out.
But even so, nothing hurt worse than the disappointed stare in his mother's eyes, than the slight downturned crease in her lips that spoke nothing but words of failure, failure, failure.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But I'm not going to change.
"Izuku, you..." she hesitated. "I say this because I know you have a poor habit of getting involved with people that hurt you. I don't know who on earth this person is, and I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but he—Izuku, he looks very young...!"
Katsuki flinched, but held his tongue.
"I don't know what you're doing. I'm not asking for the details of your personal life," she said, hands clenched in her lap as she turned towards Katsuki. "All I care about is your safety, because as much as this person may be important to you, I have no idea who it is that you've brought to my home!"
...that's. That's fair.
He sucked in a breath, trying to keep himself at least relatively calm in wall of the storm surging around him. On one hand, there was the fucking media—on the other, his own horrible exhaustion, exacerbated by long hours and sleepless nights and the knowledge that his boyfriend was being harrassed because of him. But even with all that churning together into some wretched cocktail, the battle right in front of him was one that he could take on for now.
At least, I can try.
"Okay," he started, trying to keep his voice at least somewhat steady. "Okay. I get it. I—"
"No, wait." Katsuki cut him off, and Izuku's stomach lurched. "I don't get it. Deku's been nervous as hell to bring me over here, even if he hasn't said it out loud. I guess I can see why now, but... he's your son, right? So why aren't you talking to him with a bit of trust!?"
"Kacchan," he warned, praying that he would stop talking. "It's not an issue, it's—"
"If you wanna know who I am, that's fair. But it's not fair to assume that I'm a fucking danger, of all things, to my goddamn boyfriend!" Katsuki hissed. "For the record, I'm eighteen. I'm a third year at U.A. High. I've been with Deku for the past year—today's our anniversary, actually—and in all the time I've spent with him, all he's ever done is care about me, and me about him. And maybe I don't know all the history you guys have, but do you really think it's fair to be so hostile right off the bat like that, especially when he's already a fucking adult!?"
"Kacchan," please stop, please stop. "Now—now is not the time."
"Then what do you want me to do!?" Katsuki yelled, strained. "Just sit back and listen to this shit? Sorry if I don't wanna hear you be treated like this on your own goddamn birthday, but—"
"Katsuki, stop."
His boyfriend went silent—still visibly angry, but silent.
"Sorry," he grit his teeth, each word pointed and brittle. "No, I'm not sorry. I'm pissed."
Don't make us have to leave early. I just want this to go well, or at least not terrible. But, now that he's said all that...
Izuku swallowed.
...how on earth can I fix this?
"Mom?" he started—no use trying to hide the quiver in his voice now. "H-Hey, um... could I talk to you one-on-one for a minute?"
I don't know what else I can do.
Thankfully, she nodded. But there was no denying the anger and hurt in her face, not after the fury-charged words Katsuki had hurled. They were both on edge right now, dead tired after the endless stream of accusations and assumptions over the past few weeks. It made sense that Katsuki's defenses would be up—hell, his own were—but he hadn't expected an outrage so strong so fast.
We both just need to survive for a little longer, just need to stay sane till I go public about our relationship and wait for the media storm to blow over.
"Izuku, I want you in the kitchen," he heard, and stood up as fast as he could—but not before promising Katsuki that he'd be back soon, that he was sorry, that everything was gonna be okay. Following his mom felt like some version of a walk of shame, though, and turning his back to Katsuki hurt more than he'd expected.
"Follow me."
I'll figure this out, I'll get this fixed, I...
"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, just as his mom turned to look up at him. "I just... he's a great guy, an amazing guy, and I just wanted you to be able to meet him before our relationship hits the media fan,"
"Izuku—"
"a-and he just doesn't know you, I haven't talked about you enough, and m-maybe it was a mistake coming out here to begin with,"
"Izuku, listen—"
"but I wanted you to be able to meet him because even if he's a few years younger than me he's really mature and we've been seeing each other for a while and by a while I mean like dating for the past year but we've been friends for like three years and he's honestly the best thing to ever happen to me and I just love being around him and I love him and—"
A sudden, heavy shake to his shoulders cut him off, and Izuku nearly fainted on the spot.
"Izuku," she said, and caught hold of whatever meager attention span he had left. "Look at me."
Look at...
"I-It's been... s'been a long week," he managed, just as a rush of hot tears budded at the corners of his eyes and threatened to spill over his cheeks. "M'sorry."
I'm sorry it's him I'm dating.
Some sort of broken, whimpered sob jumped out of his throat, followed by another, another as he tried to stay steady, stay focused between hiccuped gasps and violent, uncontrollable convulsions.
I'm sorry I keep having issues at work.
There was no denying the tears now, not as his vision blurred to painfully bright streaks of fluorescent ceiling lights, tinged with bitter salt and smeared by scarred, trembling hands.
I'm sorry I'm not stronger. I'm sorry—f-fuck, I'm...
"M's-sorry for... f-for..."
Whatever he might've said fell to pieces before he could get it out, his small crying fit turning to a full-blown sobfest. Hoarse, ragged gasps plagued his body as everything he'd shut away for weeks came pouring out, the fragile dam he'd constructed torn down by a single worried look from one of the only other people who'd seen him at his worst.
Heroes don't cry, he'd told himself years ago. Heroes don't cry. Heroes stay strong.
If that was still the case, Izuku was anything but a hero.
He didn't hear the whisper of oh, Izuku, didn't feel her arms around his waist till he was leaning into them, didn't realize that she was holding him close, holding him like she'd once held him when he was young. And Izuku, despite towering at least a head-and-a-half over her, cowered like a frightened child in her comforting arms.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
"Let it out... it's okay, Izuku. You can let it out."
There was no telling how long he stood there, knees half-buckled and every bit of strength sapped from his bones as he cried, cried into his mother's shoulder.
"You don't need to apologize." Those arms hugged him closer, and Izuku had no idea how to react. "Not until I apologize first, anyways."
"N-No, you don't have anything to—"
"I do, though," she said—soft, but not resigned. "I... I shouldn't have started making assumptions about him that fast. I didn't even ask what his name was, or even tell him what mine is, but for as much as I hated that yelling of his, he..." she paused. "I don't think he was entirely wrong."
Not... entirely...
"I haven't been trusting you as much as I should... you're twenty-two now, and yet, I feel like the parent of a teenager bringing home his first partner. I know that's not the case, but when you told me you wanted to bring someone else over, I did consider that you'd met someone. That said, I..."
"D-Didn't think it'd be someone like him?"
She let go, and Izuku managed to stand on his own with only a flimsy grip against the countertop. "No. I... I didn't. But, really—a U.A. student, Izuku...? Maybe he is eighteen, but still. You need to recognize the apprehension I may have to you showing up at my door with someone so much younger looking beside you. N-Not that you look old! But I... I was surprised, and I'm sorry for not treating him like someone important to you."
"S'okay, I d-didn't expect you to, and—"
"Isn't that the first problem, though?"
...what?
Izuku couldn't do anything but watch as his mother—his quiet, nervous, but caring mother—took a deep breath and looked up at him.
"I—I wish I wasn't someone you had to be afraid to come to. I know we have our differences, and I know that things in your life don't exactly match up to how I wish they were, but... it should still be my job to support you, shouldn't it?"
Anything he would've said died in his throat, dried and shriveled away to nothing.
"A-And, Katsuki... Katsuki was right. Especially on your birthday, I shouldn't shove my worry on you." She managed a small smile, but Izuku nearly cried again upon seeing it. "I don't know what's been going on in your life, and I won't know if you don't tell me, but... if you don't want me in it, I understand. The last thing I want is for you to feel guilty about doing what you love—hero work, dating him—because of me."
Guilty...? Is that how I was...
"I-I never wanted to disappoint you." Izuku said, barely audible. "S'my fault too, 'cause I never even tried to talk to you about this stuff for years. S'easier to just avoid it and keep things simple, so I... that's what I thought was best."
...is it not, after all?
She pursed her lips, tilted her head. "I can't say I like being reminded of how much danger you're in on a daily basis, or how awful it is to hear people spreading rumors about you—not much touches this town, but there are bits of news here and there. I wish things weren't as difficult for you—"
"That'd make two of us."
"—but I know that you wouldn't keep doing this job if it wasn't what you wanted to do. And as your mother, I don't want to be another burden on whatever load you're already carrying."
You're kidding.
"No, not kidding," she continued, and Izuku realized he must've said it out loud. "I promise. So maybe, ah... do you think we could try again with, um, today? Start over, talk instead of yell..." She laughed a weak laugh, some sort of faint light in her eyes. "When I saw you talking with him on the porch, in front of my flowers... I didn't know what to make of it. But you—you did look happy."
Izuku nodded, even just the brief memory of Katuski pressed up against his chest warming his heart. "I think I was happy. No, I... I-I was happy."
Happier than I've been in a while, anyways.
"And that's what matters in the end, right?" she asked, and Izuku make some sound of acknowledgement. "You being happy. And if you're happy, and he's happy, and everything you two have is mutual... then, what place of it is mine to question that?"
"S-Stop," he mumbled, already bringing his hand up to his face. "I'm gonna cry again. Don't wanna cry again."
"Do you want to go back out to the living room?"
"Mhm. Y-Yeah."
Wanna see Kacchan again. Wanna hold Kacchan again.
He'd been strong for too long, but out in the isolation of the town, Izuku felt he could finally start to let down his walls again and just breathe.
"Then let's do that." His mother dipped her head. "If Katsuki is up to it, then let's... let's try again."
It took a few minutes of hugs between him and Katsuki for them both to relax again, a few words whispered to know that it was okay, it was alright, and a single kiss—quick, chaste, but enough to know that they were there together again, that this was real.
We're both okay. We're going to make it.
"Hello," came his mom's voice again, still hesitant but now willing. "I'm... I'm Izuku's mother, Midoriya Inko. Just Inko is alright, okay?"
Izuku watched as his boyfriend reached for her hand again and held it—not hard, not as a threat or some show of power, but in an honest, amicable movement.
"Let's try again," Katsuki started. "My name is Bakugou Katsuki—just Katsuki is fine, and," he paused, working up the barest smile. "S'nice to meet you, Inko."
The rest of the day went alright—some stories were told, Katsuki talked about his schooling and plans for the future, and of course, the topic of their relationship came up too. Izuku had learned his lesson from last time about innuendo, and aside for a hesitant question about his tongue piercing, his mother hadn't come close to asking about anything related to that side of them.
"Would you boys want to help make dinner?" she asked later, after they'd mellowed out over tea and snacks. "I asked one of my neighbors earlier if he could bake me a cake, too—he was a little confused over the concept of a mint flavor at first, but it came out looking wonderful."
"O-Oh, wow...! And yeah! Kacchan, wanna help with dinner?"
"Duh. You need all the help in the kitchen you can get."
"I'm really not that bad! Just... ugh, just give me something to cut up and I'll take care of it!"
"Mm, you remembered that knife skills lesson we had a while back?"
"Kacchan...!" He'd flushed. "...what, you think I'd forget?"
His mom was impressed by Katsuki's finesse in the kitchen—while Izuku had been cooking for himself for the past few months or so, it seemed to come almost naturally to Katuski. Yeah, there was a kitchen at the U.A. dorms, but he'd never made much use of it while he'd been enrolled.
But dinner went well—almost too well, really. Izuku was just waiting for some big slip up, a phrase worded wrong, or something to set off deeply-repressed frustrations and bite at the edges of lingering anger. Through all of dinner, and even afterwards, though...
Everything's okay. Everything's... everything's honestly okay.
They went out to the porch to watch the sunset after dinner, and as summer golds illuminated the vibrant greenery at the edge of town, all the way to the small garden in the front of the house. A few clouds tiptoed at the edge of the horizon, remnants of an afternoon rain shower that only served to decorate the jeweled sky. But in the chorus of loud colors and dainty decoration, only the low hum of cicadas held the tune soft and steady in the background.
"Can we stay here for a while?" Katsuki had asked.
In another life, we could.
The train would be leaving in twenty minutes; the last one of the day, and with set-aside responsibilities still looming over them, they couldn't afford to miss it. Izuku promised his mom—for real, this time—that he'd come visit again soon, and even Katsuki and her shared an honest hug before they set off for the station.
"Hm. At least it's empty." Izuku remarked, and patted the seat next to him as he sat down on the train. "I might catch a nap... haven't been getting enough rest lately, anyways."
"Same here, ugh." Katsuki's head lolled back against his shoulder, just as it had been on the way over. "What are you doing tomorrow? Just work?"
"That, and I'm still trying to figure out the safest way to go public about this. Us." He shook his head, dread welling up in his stomach at the mere thought of that. "I told you that Kirishima and Ochako were helping me out, right? We've been making some progress, but none of these news outlets are being cooperative."
"Ah, yeah. You told me." Katsuki mumbled, mood having dropped a notch or two in an instant. "God, it's all so stupid. I don't wanna have to feel like we need to go public about this. I know it's probably the best option so the rumors don't get out of hand, but... I dunno. Makes me sick."
"With any luck, they'll stop saying awful shit about us afterwards. It's better than people trying to twist our relationship into looking like something nasty, though."
"You're right, you're right..."
He... he sounds so tired, too... I hope this isn't affecting his education much.
"Let's not worry about this for now." He tried to smile, and pulled Katsuki closer against him. "You still wanna sleep over tonight? Don't gotta do anything, but we can just spend some more time together if you're up to it?"
Katsuki nodded, almost never one to turn down the offer, and grabbed Izuku's hand again. "Yeah. I'd like that."
At least we've got each other, Izuku thought, and with a grimace—even if things go south, we'll figure it out. We'll be okay.
The train ride home would be another couple hours, and with Katsuki already asleep on his shoulder, Izuku tried his hand at doing the same.
Just a little rest, something to help me relax... need all the help I can get right now. Hng... at least the stuff with my mom wasn't horrible, 'cause that's one more thing I can check off the list now.
But as expected, sleep didn't come easy. With little cell service on the train (he'd kept his phone off the whole time at his mom's, and opened it to find no bars waiting for him), Izuku found himself staring off at the darkening scenery, at the once-bright trees now dusted with pale moonlight and drowned in dark blues. A few more clouds rolled past overhead, and a couple of brief showers met them on the way back—nothing bad, nothing long, but he could see lightning off across the vast expanse of nothingness. Still no signal, not even enough to check the weather.
I hope it's not rainy when we get back, 'cause I didn't bring an umbrella. I do think there's a jacket with a hood in my bag...? Oh well. If nothing else, I can stop by the convenience store outside the station and grab one on the way back home.
Fingers drummed against clothed thighs, and Izuku wished he could calm his slightly-racing heart. There was still an hour or so of travel time left, though, and getting needlessly anxious about the situation would only make things worse. Apparently today was just the day of him forgetting things, though, because his extra anxiety meds had been left on his bathroom counter that morning as well.
We'll be back home soon enough. No need to worry.
More lightning, more thunder, more rain.
It's just nature. No need to worry. This train is well-built, even if it's old. We're not that far out.
Izuku repeated those words to himself in vain as he refreshed the weather app on his phone, cursing his luck as it failed again, and again, and again.
Come on, come on... we're getting close enough to home, aren't we?
The storms probably weren't helping his luck either. It wasn't like he was asking for much, just the evening forecast, but even so.
Ugh. Guess my good luck for the day has run out.
Izuku refreshed the app once more in the hope that it'd work, waiting for nothing and expecting nothing. It'd be another dud, they probably wouldn't get service again till they got back home, but with an offhand look back up to the upper corner, realized with a start that one tiny, tiny bar had appeared.
Oh!
Loading, loading, loading... the little circle spun around, and with some renewed sense of hope, Izuku waited.
Just the radar, all I want is a glance at the rader. That'll make me feel a bit better, right?
A flash of green, then yellow, then red—suddenly, the radar appeared, but Izuku only managed to catch sight of it for a moment before his phone exploded in a frenzy of notifications, all piling in at once.
What? Wait, what?
Kirishima and Ochako had texted him. Izuku zoomed to those first, not even bothering to click at the hundreds and hundreds of emails piling up in his already-full inbox. There were other texts, too, and what little social media he kept up with had imploded with notifications.
What the hell... what the hell is going...
He opened his texts from Kirishima first, hoping above all else that this wasn't—no, there was no way, no way—
[Kirishima] hey dude, i dont think you should go home tonight
[Kirishima] come over to our place. bring bakugou with you if you dont think he'll b able to get back to UA safely
[Kirishima] were gonna get this figured out. promise
Izuku didn't process the words. Couldn't.
Next.
[Ochako] don't look at the news
[Ochako] i know you've been out for the day so i dunno what you've seen if anything but holy shit
[Ochako] eijirou said it too but please come over to our place tonight. I dont think its going to be safe to go home
[Ochako] i called your apartment complex on your behalf and they said that nobody's touched your unit (they've been keeping a close watch on it) but that theyve been flooded with calls and people from the media
[Ochako] god i hope youre okay
[Ochako] just make it here. please. take the backstreets or the roofs or whatever you have to do to stay off main roads. I dont think they know where the pictures came from so the station should be safe, but god just be careful
[Ochako] and if bakugou doesnt come with you, no matter what he says, dont let him go home alone
[Ochako] text back when you see this
[Ochako] please
"Mm... we almost there, Deku?"
No.
"...Deku?"
No. No.
"Wait, are you okay?"
No. No. No, I...
"Don't—don't open your phone yet. Don't look at the news," he said, and gripped Katsuki's hand tighter, firmer. "Please."
...I can't break just yet.