Chapter Text
It’s the middle of the night and as Bakugou turns over in his bed to glance at the digital clock at his end table, he groans, realizing whatever the fuck has his phone vibrating at this time of night will keep him up for at least half of the four hours he has left before his shift.
He slips out from underneath the sheets as quietly as possible, making sure not to disturb his sleeping fiance besides him who has managed not to be roused from all the commotion. Resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead in fear that it might wake her, he leaves the room.
Izuku, as expected from the frantic series of texts, is at his front door, and from what Katsuki can tell from his quick peek into the keyhole before he opens it, his friend’s scarred hands are shaking. The dark hoodie that obscures his features makes it hard for Katsuki to discern exactly what he’s feeling, but the fact that Izuku trembles like a leaf is enough for him to realize that whatever is going on is quite bad. It better be bad if he’s being woken up for this.
As soon as the door swings open, Izuku says without hesitation,
“Kacchan, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but he listens.
…
“She’s what ?”
The difference between the two pro Heroes is usually obvious - Deku often smiling and bright, the type of man who kisses babies and helps old ladies across the street, while Katsuki has the scowling energy of an anti-hero, the bad boy with a heart of gold and diamond that headlines the wet dreams of many a civilian. However, today, it cannot possibly be more stark.
Katsuki’s eyes are wide with shock and his eyebrows are knit together at his forehead; his arms cross close to his bare chest, and he’s nearly naked as he stands perfectly still in nothing but a pair of boxers, while Izuku looks for all the world like a man who is close to toppling over any second, covered in stress and far too many layers between a hat, sweatshirt and baggy pants. You would think he was worried about being recognized, although both he and Katsuki live in the same part of the city where most Heroes reside, known for a nearly impenetrable privacy.
Izuku opens his mouth in defense but the words barely come out. Katsuki grits his teeth.
“You fucking idiot !”
He lets out a loud sigh after the exclamation, then leans his back against the front door. It occurs to him that maybe he should let his friend in but he knows he risks the chance of waking his partner up if they talk inside the house and once she’s involved… well, things might just go even further off the rails.
“I know… I know,” Izuku repeats. “I… I don’t even know why I came here, I just… I couldn’t sleep and I can’t tell her the truth-”
“What do you mean you can’t tell the truth?” Katsuki hisses. “You think you can hide the fact that you and Uraraka are having an entire child?”
Izuku seems to pale even further, and Katsuki wonders if this is the first time he’s hearing the reality in black and white, in all of its messy glory.
“Did she tell you today?” He presses, disregarding Izuku’s shock.
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Around 8pm she showed up and told me.” Izuku finally lowers his hoodie to run his hand through his hair and Katsuki can now clearly see the frazzled and matted locks that stick to his forehead. He looks an absolute mess, more of a mess than Katsuki has ever seen him before, and part of this annoys Katsuki because he warned him that things could turn out this way.
Well, not exactly this way… but Katsuki had clearly told Izuku he was playing with fire the moment he had picked up on Ochaco coming around just a little more often just mere weeks after his breakup.
He couldn’t figure out what Izuku’s endgame was. His friend was always kind and almost nauseatingly considerate, and he’d always had the impression that Izuku actually loved his ex just a little bit more than she loved him (although she’d emphatically disagree), so when he’d appeared to be moving on just a little too quickly with his blushy old flame, Katsuki had found it suspicious. A rebound maybe? Maybe a way to lie to himself and prove that he wasn’t lost without her?
But a baby ?
“Your dumb ass never heard of condoms?” Katsuki snaps, and Izuku swallows hard then mutters something mostly unintelligible about a pill and pulling out and he rolls his eyes. Then he considers that maybe that was a bit harsh and rubs his chin.
A heavy wind picks up in between them as though adding gravity to the situation. Gravity. Uravity. The free word association is starting to get on Katsuki’s nerves.
“How far along?”
“9 weeks, maybe 10.” Izuku’s hands won’t stop fidgeting.
Bakugou winces. He probably shouldn’t have asked.
“What’s your plan? Aside from showing up at my doorstep with your problems?” He finally asks.
“I- I don’t have one,” Izuku says, and the realization hits both of them at the same time. He usually has a plan, no matter how stupid or idealistic it can sound. Katsuki prides himself on thinking that his plans are better , but even he is at a loss right now.
When you find out, it will break you, even if you’re pretending you’ve left Hero society behind in the conversations he overhears between you and his fiancé. Even if you are avoiding any situation that will involve you and Izuku being in the same room.
It’s been close to five months since the two of you have broken up and everyone knows that you’re still in love with each other, even if the tabloids continue to push Deku and Uravity as the it couple of the year.
But a baby can’t be ignored.
“Start by telling her, not me,” Bakugou says, and Izuku immediately resists.
“I can’t.”
Katsuki blows air from his nose in a derisive snort but Izuku looks directly at him now, as opposed to lowered in distress, eyes red-rimmed from tears but still somehow ferocious.
“Do not tell her.” Izuku says.
It’s as much as a plea as it is a threat by the way his fingers clench so tightly into fists, irregular knuckles jutting against pale, roughened skin. Katsuki considers the benefit of pointing out that if he really wanted to keep this secret a secret, he probably should not have barged in at 3 am and told him everything but decides he’s not in the mood for a fight for once.
“Fine.”
It’s a promise he’ll regret later in the morning.
Bakugou scratches his chin, then rolls his neck that’s somehow stiffened in the process of active listening. He goes to shove his hands in his pockets, then remembers he doesn’t have any pockets. Izuku wrings his hands, then rubs up and down his face. He looks like he’ll pull out his hair any second, then lets out a sigh.
“I don’t know why I came here, Kacchan.”
However, the two of them do know, and they remain silent in the acceptance of their ability to confide in each other.
“I don’t either,” Bakugou replies. The two pause and look at each other. Bakugou folds, unsure how to offer support but twists his mouth to the side.
“I won’t talk but you have to talk. Let me know how it goes.”
Katsuki means to turn abruptly and return back to his sleeping partner in desperate hopes of salvaging what’s left of his sleep. Izuku whispers a word of thanks, and Bakugou stops as he opens the door, and glances back at him.
He thinks for a moment what it would be like, if it were him, standing outside Izuku’s home at 4 in the morning, knowing that he fucked it up irrevocably with the love of his life. His stomach twists.
“Yeah, no problem.”
Izuku is not sure when or how he fell asleep.
What he is sure of however, is that today is the first free Sunday he’s spent in an empty bed since the week you broke up. No you and no Uraraka laying beside him either (although in his heart of hearts he knows he would have always much rather it be you); just him and a swamp of damp, rustled bedsheets.
He has no nightmares because he is living one. One where he can clearly remember your smile and how he managed to dim its light time and time again, and wondering if this is what will dull even the shine in your teeth.
Perhaps he’s being dramatic, he wonders, as he sits up slowly, the soles of his feet pressed against each other. His throat is dry and his head pounds as though he were hungover and he considers how tired his friend might be, having dealt with his caprices in the middle of the night.
A child isn’t an awful thing on its own. He’s good with children. He’s not too young to be a father and he knows a little about responsibility. He can provide for a child.
His mother will be confused, but delighted. A child is a good thing.
Your child would be the best thing, what he’s always wanted, however good cannot always be the enemy of the perfect.
The word ‘fuck’ comes out of his lips effortlessly as he rises to start the day with some stretches.
According to his phone, it’s a little past noon, far too late for a man who rarely sleeps in. Ochaco has sent him a couple messages, as has Bakugou, and there are a few calendar reminders for things that are thankfully scheduled later in the week.
Bakugou’s text is brief and disturbingly considerate.
You okay?
No, Izuku thinks, but he’s already bothered him enough. He texts back a brief ‘yea’ which Bakugou will see through instantly, then his heart races as he opens Ochaco’s messages.
I’m sorry I showed up so abruptly, but I couldn’t think of a better time.
I’ll come by later tonight, if that’s okay?
Izuku swallows hard.
Of course it’s okay. What other choice does he have?