Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya finds himself in a familiar place. It is a place like nothing else. Well, it’s not really a place, more like a vision. A vision of a seemingly endless abyss of darkness save for an illuminated area the size of a large room. He sees the usual semi-circle arrangement of eight tall, fancy chairs upholstered in red velvet. Seven of the previous vestiges of One-For-All occupy the chairs, but All Might's usual shadowy form was missing from his seat. Something’s wrong, Izuku thinks.
Oddly, the successors did not seem to notice Izuku and when he opened his mouth to speak there was no sound. This again? I thought I could speak here now.
“It is time we discuss the future of One-For-All.” The successors begin to speak to one another. Izuku puts his concerns aside for now and listens intently.
“Now that All-For-One has been defeated there is no real need for One-For-All. It has become too powerful to exist without cause. It is time we let it go.”
What are they saying? No. They can’t mean...
“Agreed. Young Midoriya has done very well and should be rewarded with a quiet, peaceful life.”
That’s not what I want! Izuku tries to shout but fails. He tries to push his body forward, but it’s held in place by an invisible force. The panic hits. He suddenly feels like a hostage who has been gagged and bound and is listening to plans for his demise.
“Together we will pull One-For-All out of the boy and let it die with us.”
No, you can’t! He attempts to wriggle again with no success. Please. I’m a hero! You can’t take this away from me!
“He will live an ordinary life.” No. “ He will have no quirk.” This can’t be happening. “He will not be a hero.”
The words are like punches to the gut, making him dizzy and nauseous. If his eyes would make tears he would be sobbing. But even in his darkest moments, Izuku has remained strong-willed, and this moment is no exception. He continues to writhe and scream with all his might to no avail. I won’t let you stop me! He doesn’t let up, pulling and stretching. I will...be a hero that...always...saves everyone!
Before the next vestige has a chance to speak, an explosion catapults a blonde, spikey-haired hunk of fury out of the darkness. He lands hard but steadily in front of the vestiges making a crack in the illusion of a floor. His voice is loud, vigorous, and magnificent.
“You All Might wannabees better SHUT THE FUCK UP or I’m gonna blast your undead asses out of existence. For good this time.”
Kacchan. KACCHAN?!
Miraculously Bakugo Katsuki has appeared in Izuku’s vision wearing his full hero costume and a wicked grin. He glares at the vestiges while settling into a threatening attack stance: legs wide, knees bent, gloved hands crackling at his sides.
“If you old, crusty, expired EXTRAS can’t see that Deku earned that quirk A THOUSAND FUCKING TIMES OVER then you’re all way too braindead to be sitting around in fancy fuckin chairs making decisions for him.”
That’s my Kacchan. Izuku looks at Bakugo so fondly. His chest feels warm and his panic lessons. He has my back. We can do this. We can do anything.
“Plus,” Bakugo continues, “if he's quirkless again, becoming the #1 hero will be too damn easy for me.” Bakugo slowly turns his head to lock eyes with the green-haired hostage for the first time. He’s wearing a playful smile. “You won’t let me win that easy, will you Izuku?”
Oh wow.
Izuku’s eyes go blurry and all he sees is white. He blinks and his eyelids feel stuck. Cough cough. I can’t breathe. It’s soft underneath him and he rolls a little to the side. Blinking. Breathing. The first thing he registers when he opens his eyes is the small puddle of drool next to his face on his pillow. Then he realizes he’s in his bed in his UA dorm room, lying on his stomach with his face half smushed into the pillow. Ugh not again.
Izuku had recently developed the nasty habit of sleeping on his stomach, which for most people would not be so troubling, but for Izuku meant slowly moving his face further and further into the pillow unconsciously until his entire body is face-down like a plank, and he starts suffocating. The occasional pillow suffocation had caused a few weird dreams. One night he dreamed that All Might was able to transform into his old self again and decided to use his incredible strength to challenge Izuku to a pizza eating contest, naturally. While scarfing down slice after slice in the most awesome, inspirational pizza eating contest ever known, All Might declared Izuku was not going ‘Plus Ultra’ enough and started punching full pizza pies into Izuku’s throat. But when he woke up the next day choking on his pillow, he was not unsure about what just took place. It was a dream. A fun-until-it-wasn't pizza nightmare. The dream he had today was different.
Was it really a dream? Only successors of OFA could communicate through this vision, that’s what Izuku understood. Bakugo’s appearance was impossible. Definitely a dream, he decides. Yikes, that was scary.
Izuku spends another half-hour fixated on the terrifying idea now permanently added to his list of fears, that he could somehow have his quirk taken away by the very people who had honed and fought to protect it.
“BEEP BEEP”, goes his All Might alarm clock reading 5:45am. Izuku stretches and clicks down one of the pointy strands of hair, activating the snooze control. Izuku got out of bed at 6am on schooldays, so he gives himself permission to keep over-analyzing the dream until then.
How many times has Kacchan saved me that I even see it in my dreams? I really trust him, don’t I? It feels good, knowing he has my back. We have each other’s backs. It’s mutual. He knows. He didn’t have to smile like that at me though. Making me feel hot, in that kind of situation. It wasn’t really him, I guess. Does he ever smile like that at me in real life? Yes, definitely. I like it. I like it a lot. Dammit Izuku.
The image of Bakugo in his dream, tall, strong, cocky and protective, lingers in his mind. They were both 18 years old now and growing into their adult physiques. Bakugo had just passed 6 ft and would likely get taller. Izuku was still much shorter but had grown a bit as well reaching 5’8’’. He used to worry about Bakugo towering above, looking down at him like he was a worthless ant. But now he took pleasure in it. His desire was becoming harder to control and a serious cause for worry.
Initially Izuku convinced himself that his attraction to Bakugo’s body was just an appreciation for hard work, holding the hero physique in high regard. But Kirishima was shredded too, and Izuku was thoroughly impressed, but looking at his body didn’t bring the same heat to Izuku’s skin. As the boys matured the attraction intensified and Izuku had to work even harder to conceal it. He missed freely studying Bakugo’s movements and athleticism. Now it was risky. They had finally created a real friendship, a great friendship even, so Izuku tried to avoid looking like a creep and blowing it all. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about him when he was alone. Not that he could help himself.
What if, in my dream, Kacchan and I were alone there. And I didn’t wake up. What if I stayed like I was, unable to move, like I was tied up. Would I like that? If I was stuck like that, Kacchan could do whatever he wanted. God. I’m such a pervert. Why am I like this.
Despite the shame Izuku feels the rampant heat overtaking his body. His breathing gets heavier, and his powerful imagination presses on.
If something’s wrong with me then something’s wrong with him too. He’s crazy. He’d probably love to tie someone up. It could be me. He always says I talk too much. I bet he’d love to shut me up. Maybe...he would use his fingers. He would tell me to open my mouth and rub one against my tongue. No two, two fingers so it’s harder. Oh, shit I’m hard. I want to jerk off.
Izuku checks the clock again. 5:50am. Okay okay. I’ll be quick. He palms his erection over his boxers and makes a small sound. He can’t be too loud in the dorms, so he shuts his mouth and feels another groan vibrate in his throat. He pumps his hand a few times over his clothes then gets impatient. There’s a small bottle of lube hidden inside his bedside table that he grabs.
His class had a sex ed lesson last year and the teacher handed out sample sizes of lube and condoms. Izuku definitely didn’t need the condoms, but he used the lube to jerk off and it was a game changer.
He pours a small amount onto one hand and uses the other to pull down his waistband and release his erection. Gently, he presses his closed fist down over the head of his dick, opening it but keeping it tight as it slides down. He lets out an ahhh by mistake and continues to drag his hand down. Then back up.
Kacchan would tell me to suck his fingers. And I would do it. I would try so hard. How would I do it? Like a blow job? He would probably tease me and call me a virgin. So, I would take his hand and shove his fingers as far back as they could go. I would let him choke me with them. Would he like that? Would he get hard too? Could I touch him? No, I’m tied up. Shit. I want to touch him. He’s big. I know he is. If I let him fuck my mouth with his fingers, would he let me touch him?
Izuku is picking up speed and properly jerking off now. There are wet sucking sounds with every stroke, sounds that once made Izuku squeamish but now fuel the fire. He squeezes and pulls in ways that let him hear it even more. He lifts his t-shirt up halfway to look at bare skin. He’s never been a vain person, so he was surprised to discover that watching his abs flex when he gets close really drives him over the edge. He wonders what Bakugo's abs look like when he jerks off and the thought gets his dick even slicker.
Would Kacchan let me jerk him off? If I was good? I want to make him feel good too. I’d do more if he wants. I would use my mouth. Would I? Oh god, I would. Fuck. I’m so gross. I want to taste him. I want my tongue on him, and I want him panting and moaning and saying my name. I love it when he says my name.
He’s now stroking himself at a brutal pace. The degree of vulgarity to which his thoughts had become are only faintly comprehended. He pants heavily and whines in a whisper. He tries to keep his mouth closed but every so often a sneaky curse slips out.
I’m going to cum soon. I’m going to cum thinking of Kacchan. Kacchan. You make me feel crazy. It’s too much. So good. I want you to see, Kacchan. Look what you do to me. I’m cumming! You're making me cum Kaaa...
His hand stills while his hips twitch and jerk short thrusts, milky liquid spurting one, two, three lines above and dripping into his navel. His head cants back, eyes hooded and low rumbling exhales escape his mouth “Haaaaaa....Haaaaaaaa.” He looks down at himself, squeezes hard and jerks his hand quickly a few more times to produce the last bubbling and drip of pleasure down his length before collapsing completely.
Some moments pass and his breathing becomes quieter and more even. Arms relax by his sides, his right hand hovering a bit to avoid dirtying the sheets. His rational mind returns. Clarity. What is wrong with me.
“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.” It's 6:00am. Time to meet Bakugo for a run.
Punctuality is an essential quality for a hero, so Izuku swiftly cleans his messy mid-section leaving time to get ready before meeting Bakugo outside. Clean and dressed, he uses the slightest spark of green down his legs to hurry out the door and down the stairs. He makes it to the field to meet Bakugo before dawn.
The goal here was to build natural stamina, so the rule was ‘No Quirks Allowed’. Bakugo was taller and had longer strides while running, but Izuku had powerful leg muscles, so they were almost evenly matched. Almost. No-quirk athleticism was one of the only physical things Bakugo was better at than Izuku, so he made it his business to push him. Then, when Izuku caught up, Bakugo would have to get faster too to maintain the lead. Self-improvement for Bakugo was often tethered to Izuku and with his help Bakugo could swing so much higher than he would alone. Izuku knew he wasn’t going to let this go but he was no less surprised when Bakugo charged towards him in the common room their first week back in school to order him to "Get your ass up early tomorrow, we’re running.”. And again, the next day. And the day after that.
Seeing Bakugo, after what took place in his bedroom mere minutes ago, fills Izuku with shame. What kind of guy has perverted fantasies about his friend then takes up his time with one-sided training, he wonders. Probably not a good one. He knows the runs are mostly for his improvement.
Izuku’s downturned expression must read as fatigue to Bakugo because when they reach each other the blond one says, “Hey, what’s with the face? You still asleep?”
Izuku tries to pull the edges of his face back up to neutral, and even offers a little smile. “Morning Kacchan. I just had a crummy sleep. Bad dreams. Nothing to worry about!” He makes animated gestures with his arms as he speaks. He hopes the overblown and sudden enthusiasm will be a distraction for both of them. “A run will wake me up, soooo let’s go!”
Bakugo raises a suspicious eyebrow at the sudden change in emotions. But then he chuckles once remembering something as they walk together to their starting position.
“What did All Might shove down your throat in this one?” Bakugo teases.
It takes Izuku a second. He forgot he told Bakugo about his pizza dream.
“Kacchan!!!” His eyes are wide in shock, face red from embarrassment. “Don’t say it like that!” He fights against a smile while shaking his head. “That is SO wrong!” Izuku play shoves Bakugo as they keep walking and lets out a chuckle.
Bakugo isn’t laughing but his smile is wide, satisfied with the reaction he got.
“I dunno what you're talking about. If you're thinking about something dirty, that’s all on you, freckles,” Bakugo says through his unwavering smile.
Izuku isn’t buying it, and he’s not meant to. He tries to sound serious, but it comes out lighthearted when he pleads, “You can’t joke like that! At least not at school. What if All Might's just around the corner?!” Izuku pauses to scan the area, head whipping back and forth. After assuring that they are indeed alone, he relaxes and looks back at Bakugo. “He’s like a dad to me. If he heard that I think I’d have to leave the country.”
They reach the spot they like and start shaking out their limbs to get ready to run a loop around the grounds.
“Reeelaaax. The man teaches teenagers for a living. He’s heard way fuckin worse.” With one last roll of his ankles Bakugo looks up at Izuku, “Y’ready?”
Izuku looks at Bakugo’s pleased and eager face and decides that maybe their training isn’t so one-sided. How can I be taking advantage of him when he’s having such a good time teasing me , he thinks. Besides, Bakugo never did anything he didn’t want to do.
“Ready Kacchan!”
Their run goes as usual, mostly silent and focused with a sprinkle of playful taunting. Izuku usually gets chatty after the halfway point where they slow to a jog. They talk about classwork and pro hero news mostly. On days after interpersonal scandals among their classmates, they even gossip. Well, Izuku gossips, and Bakugo allows it.
It was 2 years ago that Bakugo stood in front of Izuku, recognized his own weaknesses and apologized for everything he had done. Truthfully Izuku never held Bakugo’s bullying against him so there was nothing to forgive. The next thing they had to do was just be themselves, and while it was a little awkward at first, it didn’t stay that way for long. Memories from their childhood friendship had laid a foundation that they were able to step back into surprisingly easily as teenagers. Things were certainly different now, but Bakugo still liked to be admired, and Izuku still liked to admire him.
The light from the slowly emerging sun fires up their senses and warms the cool spring morning. They finish the last leg of the run with a final all-out sprint, a race. Bakugo wins but Izuku’s getting faster. The sides of Bakugo’s face are sweaty and Izuku thinks he looks good like this. A bead of sweat falls around his jaw, down his neck and into the dip between his bulging trapezius muscle and collarbone.
In-between catching his breath Bakugo praises him, in his own way. “Shit. That was closer. But it’s not good enough yet ‘zuku. We’re not finished so don’t get comfy.”
Izuku’s leaning forward with hands on his knees looking up at Bakugo’s glistening shoulders. Hearing his name, Izuku snaps out of it, breaking free from the spell of Bakugo’s frame, for now. Bakugo decided to start using his actual name instead of Deku after the apology as proof of his sincerity. Izuku has heard him say his name countless times by now, but it still makes him feel something.
Izuku stands upright. “Wait, not finished? You want to go again?! Do we have time? I still have to shower after this, and blow dry my hair, and get dressed. and eat breakfast, and pack my bag, and sharpen my penc—”
“I got it! I didn’t mean now, idiot. I mean you’re stuck doing runs with me until you catch up. Which I'm never gonna let happen because I’m #1.” Bakugo turns and starts walking back towards their dorm building.
Izuku follows behind with a smile. “Um, so, does that mean we’re going to go on runs together for the rest of our lives?” It is Izuku’s turn to tease. “Because if I have to keep running with you until I catch up but you’re always getting faster than how—?”
“For fucks sake. You givin’ up?” Bakugo interrupts still looking ahead as Izuku catches up. Childishly he seems to get a little embarrassed by Izuku's words.
Izuku hops ahead and reaches the double doors first holding one open for Bakugo.
“Not a chance!” says Izuku showing off his hero smile, wide, sunny, and unbreakable. Bakugo pulls open the other door himself and walks through. Izuku follows again.
“I can’t believe I got that close to you in a race. You’re so...naturally athletic.”
Bakugo glances over, lured by the compliment.
Izuku continues. “You pushed me and I’m so much faster now! So, I’ve decided that I will keep working hard. And one day—” Izuku pauses and stares at Bakugo until their eyes meet. “—I’m going to beat you.”
Bakugo’s eyes widen, the corners of his lips pull up, and he meets the challenge. “HAAH?! Is that what you think!? You’ve got some balls telling me that your gonna beat me with those short legs!” They reach the stairs leading to the boys' rooms. Izuku is giggling and Bakugo gets louder. “Hells gonna freeze over before I even let you get a fresh taste of my dust! You hear me Izuku?! I’ll run so far ahead that my dust’ll be stale before you—”
“Bakugo, be quiet, please!” Comes a hushed voice from down the hall above them. Iida walks into view and stops at the top of the stairs to look down at them. As Class Representative three years running, he also acts as Dorm Advisor for the boys. He's always considerate of everyone’s sleeping preferences including those who choose to sleep in until the very last second.
Iida speaks again quietly. “Some of the boys are still sleeping Bakugo. Could you please keep it down. Good morning, Midoriya.”
“Sorry Iida!” Izuku lowers his voice, apologizing on Bakugo’s behalf. There wouldn’t be an apology otherwise. “Good morning to you too. We’ll be quiet. We’re going to wash up now so...”
Bakugo rolls his eyes and walks upstairs. He walks past Iida on the way to his room and grumbles, “What? I don’t get a good morning?”
“Eh? A-ah. Yes. Good morning, Bakugo.” Iida calls after him, stammering.
Bakugo reaches his door a short walk straight down the hall still within earshot of Iida and replies, “Morning,” then loudly slams it shut.
“Bakugo!” Iida whispers and shouts at the same time, then slaps his hand to his forehead.
“Hey, at least he sort of says good morning to people now,” Izuku says, having made it up the stairs. Iida agrees and forgives the disturbance.
“So, Midoriya...I hope I’m not prying but is it true that Rabbit Hero, Mirko has taken you as an intern?”, Iida asks shyly.
“Um—”
“She’s really...quite something.” Pink dusts across Iida’s cheeks and his gaze drifts off.
Oh no , Izuku thinks, not Iida too!