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On an otherwise completely normal afternoon, three strange things happened in quick succession. The first was this: a teen aged girl, clutching tight to her bag at her chest, her face red from crying, running around the corner and down the street, past Katsuki. She stumbled for a moment but caught herself and kept running. She was there and gone again too quickly for Katsuki to even call out to her. It was almost like she was using a quirk to speed up her run.

The second was this: a man running past, headed across Katsuki’s path, with blood on his shirt an his hand over part of his face. He staggered into a fence, looking obviously like he needed help. Katsuki took two steps towards the guy but when the man saw him do it, he shouted “Stay the fuck away!” and bolted. Katsuki stared after him for a while but then shrugged and ignored it.

The third and final strangest thing was this: soft, panting noises from a shadowed, narrow, disused path between two high fences. There was trash on the ground and boxes and bins piled up. Katsuki stopped at the entrance.  He’d passed this alley plenty of times. Occasionally, when he heard sounds like this, it was some animal in pain.

Never had it ever been Izuku, sitting on his ass against the wall, tucked between two large, broken crates, with his tie between his teeth and his hand down his own pants.

Katsuki stared for a moment, so utterly bewildered that he couldn’t even begin to otherwise react. What the fuck should he do, anyway? Did it really matter if Izuku liked to fucking jack off in a deserted alley?

The tearful girl’s face and the man’s scared expression flashed in Katsuki’s mind. They had both come from this area, maybe had even seen Izuku like this. What kind of shit was he up to now? Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Katsuki stalked up to the useless idiot and kicked him in the shin. “Oi, you fucking pervert. What the hell did you do to those two? Does it-”

His tongue stopped working when Izuku looked up at him.

There wasn’t any shame in his face, or embarrassment. Hell, there wasn’t any sanity. Izuku’s pupils were wide; his eyes were glassy. His teeth dug into the cloth of his tie, but Katsuki could see blood on his lip where he had bitten it first. His hands kept moving, restless and unseen, under his pants and hidden between his legs. Izuku’s eyes focused on him for as long as he spoke, but when Katsuki stopped talking, they slid away and closed again.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder. Of course there was no one there.

He dropped his bag on the ground. Crouching beside Izuku, he waved his hand in front of his classmate’s face. “Hey, Deku, are you fucking in there right now?” Izuku’s eyes followed the movement of his hand. He didn’t get a verbal response.

Annoyed, Katsuki gripped the tie and pulled it from Izuku’s mouth. Immediately, Izuku let out a pathetic whimpering sound. Katsuki tried to bring him out of this weird haze by slapping his cheek, once, twice and then again for a third time. Izuku blinked a lot at that third one. Some rationality seemed to seep back into him and he whispered, “Kacchan?”

“What the fuck is going on, Deku? Are you some sort of pervert or did something happen to you?”

Katsuki drew his hand back, and though he folded his arms over his chest, he reserved the right to hit Izuku again. His cheek had been warm, fever hot. Izuku’s skin was visibly damp with sweat. All Katsuki could think about was the warning message his mother had seen on television the other night. About some perverted with a lust quirk, preying on young women alone.

“Kacchan,” Izuku closed his eyes. He smiled, though Katsuki couldn’t imagine there was any good reason to that. He said the nickname again, soft, barely audible, the flush rising on his cheeks.

Again, Katsuki looked over his shoulders. Again, there was no one there.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were out in the open, though. Nor could he just leave Izuku there. There was something so obviously wrong with him. He was in no condition to defend himself, let alone get home. “Useless,” Katsuki muttered, “You’re just fucking useless all the time, Deku.”

“K-Kacchan’s here,” Izuku mumbled. His head rolled back on his shoulders, exposing his neck and collarbone from where his uniform had been pulled open. “Kacchan’s watching.” His knees spread slightly; his legs trembled.

As Katsuki watched, Izuku’s hands worked faster. His legs spread open further. His teeth dug into his lip and blood dripped down his chin.

Something inside of Katsuki snapped. He lurched forwards and the first thing he did was grip Izuku’s jaw in one hand, “Stop biting yourself you little shit or I’ll blow your damn jaw off.” His other hand came to rest on Izuku’s thigh, doing nothing but hold him.

Izuku arched underneath his hands. One of his hands came up, shaking so badly that Katsuki almost missed the smear of precum on it. He bat the hand away with an annoyed sound, “Hands off.”

“Kacchan, it hurts,” Izuku whimpered as he obediently pulled his hands away. “It hurts so much. Please… please…” There were tears in his eyes, and though they weren’t clear, they weren’t quite so glazed as before.

“Fine.” Katsuki grumbled. “But if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

“Hurts,” Izuku moaned. “Stop the hurt.”

Gritting his teeth, Katsuki reached his hand down into Izuku’s pants. He immediately found the other teen’s hard cock. It throbbed against his palm, sticky with precum and bigger than Katsuki imagined it to be- if he were ever to admit he had thought about it in the first place. He palmed Izuku’s cock and rubbed it with quick, almost rough strokes. Izuku sobbed as he did so, rolling his hips and dragging his fingers uselessly against the wooden crate on either side. Katsuki had only meant for Izuku to keep his hands to himself, but watching the way Izuku struggled so hard to obey him brought a smug smile to his face.

“How’s this?” Katsuki asked as he pressed the tip of his thumb to Izuku’s dripping slit. “Fuck, Deku, I didn’t know anyone could leak this much without having come at all.”

“Have-” Izuku heaved out. “Have already.”

“What?” Katsuki’s hand hesitated.

“Came. Twice. Hurts. Hurts so much. Kacchan- Please-” Izuku’s fingers dug into the wood hard enough to splinter it. “Please make it stop.”

“Shit,” Katsuki hissed. He scrambled forward and pulled down Izuku’s pants. What he found inside was a mess of cum on cloth and skin surrounding an obviously painful erection. “What the fuck happened?”

“Quirk?” Izuku questioned. “I wanted- Tried to- Save the girl- Please. Kacchan. Kacchan! Ah!” As Katsuki watched, Izuku arched up, his body tensing hard enough to lift him slightly off the concrete. He came in several quick thrusts into Kacchan’s hand. Katsuki blinked at the sight of the thick cum and the continued hardness of Izuku’s cock.

“What the hell,” Katsuki said, more to himself than to Izuku. Again that glossy look was back and he was panting hard. His fingers let go of the crate as his arms sagged to the ground. Had Izuku just come the first time Katsuki saw him? He wore the same expression now, somewhere between blissful and aching with pain.

Looking at his cock, Katsuki wondered if there was anyway to get it to go down or if suffering the embarrassment of going to a doctor was the only way.

He briefly thought of Izuku on the train, sitting, definitely, but no, no, there wouldn’t be any room at this time of day. He’d have to stand, with Katsuki. Katsuki would have to hold him up and the best way to hide his erection would have them facing each other. Izuku was so feverishly warm, Katsuki would feel that right up against his own body…

No. No. Going to the doctor was right out.

“Maybe you just need to come a few more times,” Katsuki said, reasoning through his decision. There wasn’t any fucking way he was going to survive with Izuku on the train though, god, how badly he wanted to shove him up against the doors and fuck him, deep and hard, even if they were on a fucking packed train, with Izuku’s face pressed against the glass, begging Katsuki’s name like-

“Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan please,” Izuku begged, “You said. You said.. Please..”

He held his legs open. For the last time, Katsuki checked over his shoulder. This time, he shoved his bag out of sight of the entrance of the alley. There was still no one there.

He’d fuck Izuku on a train later. Now it was going to be an alley. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve got you, Deku.”

Izuku came twice more as Katsuki fingered his ass to get him prepared. Each time was just as hard and thick as the firsts one he’d seen. Katsuki had no idea what that meant about the quirk but he used the cum as lubricant and hoped it would be enough. He didn’t really want to hurt Izuku, after all. That was why he spent so much time stretching his ass out.

That, and because the first time he came while Katsuki stroked his cock too. The second time he came just from Katsuki’s fingers. Both times, he had reached for Katsuki, desperately moaning out his name like they were lovers.

Katsuki tried not to think about what that thought meant. Luckily, Izuku was plenty distracting.

“Fuck, I think that’s enough? Do you think that’s enough?” Katsuki asked, even though Izuku hadn’t been able to say anything other than his name for the last ten minutes. “Yeah, probably. Shit. Fuck. God. I love this, though,” he spoke without thinking about it. He had to do a lot of this without thinking about it. Thinking was way too hard. Staring at how his fingers just slid right into Izuku with hardly any resistance was better. “Say, Izuku,” he asked, “Are you ready for me to fuck you? Like, fuck, I’m so ready. Fuck. I want to fuck you so much. Way too much. Like. All the time way too much.

Katsuki hoped that Izuku wouldn’t remember any of this. He really didn’t have any filter on his mouth anymore. Especially not when Izuku’s mouth hung open, panting, as inviting as his stretched asshole. He stared at Izuku’s face as he pulled down his own pants at last, freeing his hard cock. Katsuki wanted to fuck that mouth, too. Wanted to rub his cock against those lips, come on his cheeks, look down and see those green eyes between his legs-

Izuku was warm, so warm, and so slick, when Katsuki slid into him. His legs immediately hooked around Katsuki, dragging him in down to the base. Katsuki groaned and reached forward to brace himself on the wall. “Fuck, fuck, Izuku, god. You’re so tight still. How are you so fucking tight?”

Izuku whimpered in reply.

“C’mon,” Katsuki said into his ear, “You can hold me back now. Hold onto me because I’m going to fuck his shitty quirk right out of you.” Even if he didn’t want to. Even if he was terrified what would happen afterwards. Maybe he would really have to kill Izuku when this was done. Maybe he should be the one to die.

Izuku’s arms are as strong as steel cables when they wind around Katsuki. He clings to the blond with every limb and even clenching down with his ass. Katsuki didn’t care. He pushed and pulled until Izuku was on his back and he could slam into him relentlessly. When Izuku’s moaning became loud enough that Katsuki was afraid they’d be overheard, he covered his mouth with a kiss.

Izuku’s mouth was just as burning hot as the rest of his sweat slicked body. Katsuki took full advantage of his open mouth and kissed him as deep as he fucked and just as hard. He wanted everything from Izuku, every breath, every sound, every clenching muscle, every scrabbling finger.

“I’d fuck you every day if I could,” Katsuki said against his lips, his words drowned out by Izuku’s moaning. “Bend you over the desk at school and make you come right there. Pin you against a wall in the bathroom and rub up against you until you were begging for it. Let me fuck you more, Izuku, let me fuck you all the time. Come over to my house and I’ll fuck you all night until you can’t think about anything but me. I want to fuck you so much, so much, fuck, Izuku, I love you.”

He felt Izuku cum against him, felt it in the tense of his body, so tight he could barely thrust through it. He felt it also against his own skin, his shirt bunched up in their movements. It was hot and splattered against him and tipped him right over the edge.

Katsuki muffled his shout with Izuku’s shoulder. He pressed down and in, rocking while he was in as deeply as he could be, as deeply connected to Izuku as he had ever been, and he came. The force of it winded him, or perhaps that was Izuku’s crushing embrace on his ribs. Either way, Katsuki noticed something almost immediately after he came back down off his initial high.

Izuku’s cock was no longer hard where it was pressed between them.

Slowly, Katsuki pulled back, panting and gasping for breath. Everything felt colder the moment he lifted his body off of Izuku’s.

Everything felt much harsher the moment after he pulled his cock out. Katsuki knelt on the ground between Izuku’s legs, face in his hands, staring into the darkness created by them. He could hear Izuku breathing, hear his own breaths.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “What the fuck was that.”

The image of Izuku- not the one in front of him- but the one in his brain, the one on the train or the one kneeling between his legs- was still in his head. Fainter, less urgent, but still there. Katsuki shivered, wondering if that they would come back and he’d have to- have to-

“Fuck. I fucked up. Fuck. Shit. Shit.” Katsuki curled up tighter. “Shit. Shit.”

“K-Kacchan?”

Katsuki froze. Tentative fingers touched the back of his hand. Izuku’s skin wasn’t overheated, anymore.

“There was uh…” Izuku said, speaking slowly as though his mouth were dry, his throat sore. “I saw a man harassing a girl in the alleyway and… after I helped her get away, I guess the guy realized that I was going to be able to beat him in a fight and uh… used his quirk on me. He said… He said it was a lust quirk. That um, uh, I wouldn’t… It wouldn’t… I wouldn’t calm down until I … until someone else… Until my skin came in contact with someone else’s uh, semen.”

Katsuki still couldn’t move. He could have just jacked off onto Izuku’s hand, if he had known. He didn’t have to- Shouldn’t have-

Katsuki was aware he had impulse control issues. He knew that he didn’t think things through. He also knew that if he had been given the choice of Izuku’s hand or his ass, he’d make the same choice again a second time. Now that he had admitted it, had said it out loud, Katsuki couldn’t deny the fact that his cock jumped at the thought of Izuku on his knees begging for it. Begging fo him.

Said cock twitched at those thoughts and Katsuki groaned.

“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was so soft.

Katsuki looked up, slowly, lowering his hands.

Izuku was a wreck.

Katsuki hadn’t marked him up with his mouth, thank fuck, but Izuku’s clothes were all pulled open and splattered with come. His shirt was missing a few buttons and his tie was covered in slobber. He still bled from his lips, which were otherwise swollen from their kissing. The worst of it was from the hips down, though, where he was dripping with semen like a shitty hentai video. Katsuki took far too long tearing his eyes off of Izuku’s exposed ass and how it dripped. Dripped with his come.

Izuku quickly shut his legs. Katsuki jerked his gaze away.

No, Katsuki thought, the worst is his expression. Izuku looked at him with part embarrassment and part concern. He reached out to Katsuki, as if he were the one who needed comfort.

“Sorry,” he said briskly. “I didn’t- There was nothing-” That was a lie. There was something he could have done.

Katsuki closed his eyes. He will never be able to ride the train at the same time as Izuku ever fucking again.

“Sorry,” he said again. He shoved his shirt down and hurriedly pulled up his pants. Had he ever apologized to Izuku? Ever?

But he had to. About this. He had just- just-

“Kacchan, wait,” Izuku’s grip is still firm as ever as he takes Katsuki by the arm and tugs him back down when he tried to stand.

“Shitty fucking Deku,” Katsuki snapped, “Don’t you understand what the fuck just happened? You were under the influence of a fucking lust quirk and I fucked you! I raped you!” He shoved at Izuku’s arm, but he wouldn’t let go. Wouldn’t let fucking go! Didn’t shitty fucking Izuku understand what kind of danger he was in? “Get off of me! Just get the fuck off of me!”

“Kacchan-”

“Let go!” Katsuki brought his other hand down, palm glowing, sparking, but Izuku caught his wrist. Katsuki struggled avidly. “If you don’t let me go it could fucking happen again!” There was a pleading to his tone, but Katsuki couldn’t help it. He had to get the fuck away. Izuku looked like he’d been fucked a dozen times but Katsuki knew it was only the once, only him, and god, fuck, he wanted so badly to do it again- this time with Izuku coherent the whole time- this time with him talking and laughing and enjoying it, wanting it-

“I don’t think I can walk home,” Izuku said, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “My legs are shaking so much even though I’m just sitting here and I still feel… weird… I mean… Please, Kacchan, can you help me home?”

The smoke of his quirk smoldered out. Katsuki felt himself wilt for a moment, just a brief moment, before he resisted again. That moment made Izuku relax his grip, though, so he was able to yank free and step back. Breathing heavily, Katsuki snapped, “Fine. I- Fine. Fuck it. I’ll do that. Just. Fuck. Get fucking dressed first.” He turned away, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Okay,” Izuku said quietly. Katsuki didn’t watch as he cleaned up as best as he could and pulled his clothes back on. He resolutely stared at his book bag until Izuku tugged on his arm again.

He still looked like a mess, and he swayed on his feet like a drunk, but at least Izuku was no longer exposed. Katsuki grunted, scooped up his bag, Izuku’s bag and took the other teen by the arm. “C’mon, hurry up. We’re seriously late in getting home now.” He led him away, out of the alley and back onto the street.

Neither one of them talked the whole way home, though it turned out that Izuku really did need help walking. He kept stumbling, not quite lifting his feet off the ground, like he was walking around asleep. Katsuki half dragged, half carried him by the end of it.

They reached Izuku’s house first and Katsuki held him up as Izuku unlocked the door and nudged it open. He managed to get inside on his own, as Katsuki resolutely refused to go past the entrance. “Can you handle it from here?” He asked, already taking a step away. He had to go home and get control of himself. Which really meant Katsuki wanted to shower and go the hell to sleep so he could stop thinking about the way Izuku had felt, both during the sex and the way they had walked so close together.

“Yeah, um, I think so,” Izuku said, leaning against the wall. “Um. Kacchan?”

“What the fuck is it now?”

“Thanks-”

“Don’t.” Katsuki snarled, reaching for the door. He would slam it in his own face if Izuku was too fucking dumb to. “Don’t you fucking thank me for that.”

“But Kacchan!”

“No.” Katsuki said. “Goodbye!”

“But I feel the same way!” Izuku said, seconds before Katsuki shut the door. He stared at it for a long minute, still holding the handle, while his brain tried to compute Izuku’s dumb exclamation.

Finally, he shoved open the door again. “What the fuck are you talking about, you stupid fucking-” Katsuki stopped. Izuku was still against the wall, but now he sat on the floor; his arms wrapped around his head and with his face hidden. “Deku,” Katsuki said, “What are you doing there? Go get fucking cleaned up. You’re still fucking filthy, aren’t you?”

“Too tired,” Izuku said, “I’m gonna just sit here for a minute.”

Katsuki bit his lip. He needed to go. Needed to get the fuck out of there. “Fine. Fuck you. I’m going home.”

Izuku limply waved a hand at him, but said nothing.

Katsuki stood there, staring.

Slowly, Izuku lifted his head. He did look exhausted. “Go home. You’ve done enough, haven’t you?”

Jerking back, Katsuki snapped, “Fuck you. See if I ever help your sorry ass again.”

“Oh please,” Izuku muttered, “It’s only this sorry because you were thinking with your dick.” He began to push himself back up to his feet.

“I did everything I fucking could to-”

“Make it painless, yeah, I know. I was there too.” Izuku frowned at him. “I was mostly coherent, you know. The quirk just made it seem like I wasn’t.”

“What?”

“Damn it, Kacchan, what the hell do you want me to say?” Izuku asked. “You get mad when I thank you. You try to run away when I want you here. So I push you back and that makes you stay and argue? If I get mad, you’ll get mad. If I forgive you, you’ll just be mad anyway. I don’t have the energy to fight you. I just want to bathe and go to sleep and at this point I’ll be lucky if I don’t fall asleep in the bath and drown.” He ran his hand down his face, turning away and muttering to himself.

“Just stop talking,” Katsuki said, “Whenever you say fucking anything it makes everything ten times worse than it is.” He entered and shut the door behind himself. “You’re not going to talk. I’m going to help you clean up. And then we’re both going to go our separate ways and pretend none of this shit happened.”

Izuku snorted.

Katsuki shoved at his shoulder. “I mean it. You start talking shit and I’m gone.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes at Katsuki but nodded.

The trip to the bathroom was quick. Katsuki bit his tongue as he started the water filling up. Izuku stripped down in his bedroom, thankfully, but when he walked naked into the bathroom, Katsuki’s eyes immediately went to the crust of white that had dried on his skin and groin. He had removed his jacket, tie and had rolled up his sleeves, but it still felt incredibly odd to be dressed while Izuku was naked.

He averted his eyes as Izuku got into the water. It looked like he melted as soon as he sat in it, his shoulders sagging and his head resting against the edge. Izuku let out a soft moan, eyes closing. Katsuki rolled his eyes. It was just a bath of hot water. He didn’t need to act up his relief.

Katsuki sat on a stool nearby, half turned away and far enough that he couldn’t see past Izuku’s shoulders in the water. He wanted to see more, absolutely wanted to keep staring and then move past that onto touching, but didn’t dare let himself. Sitting on his hands instead, Katsuki stared at the wall. Was he supposed to help Izuku wash himself? If so, his shirt was definitely going to get wet. Should he just sit there and make sure Izuku didn’t drown? Why was he even fucking there in the first place?

“... I feel the same way.”

“I was mostly coherent….”

“...Izuku, I love you.”

“Shit.” He whispered. “What the fuck.” Katsuki kept feeling bewildered, and, worse than that, like he had purposely fucked himself over. As if some version of himself had gone back in time and shoved at him to get him to fuck up this masterfully. Hell, he’d barely realized his own fucked up feelings for Izuku a few weeks ago and that had caused all sorts of stumbling and tongue twisted shouting. He’d been trying to avoid Izuku, that was why he was walking home after him, and then … this.

And Izuku knew.

“I was kidding,” he said abruptly, still not looking at Izuku. “I didn’t mean any of that shit I said to you.” Katsuki pulled at his shirt collar nervously. “It was just… that’s the kind of shit you say when you’re doing something like that.”

Izuku didn’t reply. He glanced over to see Izuku looking down and away. He wasn’t saying anything and though Katsuki had told him not to, or else he would leave, he wished Izuku would. He wanted to leave. He couldn’t stay there. If he stayed there…

“Are you hungry?” Katsuki asked. He could make something. He could leave the fucking bathroom, at least, even if he had somehow gotten himself into tending Izuku like he was a little kid and not a seventeen year old asshole.

Izuku nodded. Katsuki nearly jumped to his feet. “Don’t fall asleep and drown,” he commanded, “I can’t fucking save you from that kind of stupidity, asshole.” Then he hurried out of the bathroom before he could even see Izuku’s response.



 

The kitchen was, strangely, just as Katsuki remembered it from being a kid. He still had to rummage around to find everything, but there were the same pictures on the fridge and the same hand towels hanging up. “What am I doing,” he muttered to himself as he searched through the fridge for something easy to make. “What the fuck am I doing.”

The simplest thing was definitely some miso soup. Katsuki didn’t care for it all that much, but it was easy and that’s what he needed right now.

It was almost done when Katsuki heard the front door open. He froze, slowly set down the bowl he’d picked up and stepped back from the stove. “Izuku?” Called  Inko from the door. “Honey?” Softer, he heard her say, “Two pairs of shoes, did he bring someone home? Oh gosh, I can smell soup… He must be hungry if he’s cooking already!”

Katsuki frantically looked around but there was nowhere to hide and nothing he could do. He stood his ground, staring at the doorway.

Inko stopped and stared at him when she reached the kitchen. “...Katsuki?” She whispered, “Why are you… What happened to…” Then her surprise hardened and she made a tight fist. “Explain why you are here, Katsuki. Where’s Izuku? What did you do to him now?”

Katsuki flinched hard. He looked down and away. “There was a thing after school. Someone with a quirk and Deku-”

“Don’t,” She said, her voice low and hard. “Don’t call him that. I don’t care if he thinks it’s okay or if the meaning has changed. I know why you called him that. Don’t you call my little boy that hateful name.”

So caught off guard by her tone, her actual anger, Katsuki’s fragile grip on his own emotions snaps. He sneers at her, saying, “It fit him then and it fits him even better now. He’s fucking useless without help. I don’t care if he suddenly developed that quirk or if it was fucking given to him. What matters is that he was Deku, is Deku, and will never not be a worthless Deku.”

“Get out,” Inko said, eyes filling with tears, despite her glare. “Get out of my house.”

Katsuki grits his teeth. He reaches to turn off the stove with an angry jerk of his hand. “Fine. Fucking fine. I do all this shit to help your fucking kid and-” He turned back just in time for Inko to slap him across the face.

He gaped at her, hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

Inko shook her finger at him. She was flushed in her anger, and with the tears she looked so much like Izuku that Katsuki couldn’t catch his breath. “You beat my son black and blue for ten years, Bakugou Katsuki. Don’t think that I never saw his bruises, his cuts, his burn marks. I bandaged up my son for ten years while the person he admired as much as All Might continued to hurt him, day after day.”

She stepped back, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand, “You’re half the reason I wanted to pull him out of Yuuei, you know. I knew that you’d only hurt him more if you kept going to school with him. And I was right. I was right. You still hurt him. You still don’t care about him.”

Inko let out a terrible little sob that ripped at Katsuki’s heart, as she finished with the words, “And he still admires you. I don’t understand. I don’t understand how he can forgive you after all you’ve done to him…”

“I was mostly coherent….”

“...Izuku, I love you.”

“... I feel the same way.”

Katsuki can’t speak, can’t think, as he stumbles past Inko and out of the kitchen. He barely stops long enough to grab his bag and his shoes before he’s outside.

He’s putting on his shoes as he’s rushing away from the Midoriya household. His breath hurts like each one is going to burst his lungs. His cheek barely stings in comparison to the way his heart hurts in his chest.

It takes him another half hour to get home because he has to stop walking and crouch down with his head between his knees to get his breath and stop himself from crying. When he finally gets home, his mother’s abrasiveness helps keep him calm, though it’s hard to respond appropriately.

He knows she sees right through him when she waves him off the dishes and, later, when he’s in his room alone, she comes along with a little container of ice cream and ruffles his hair. It makes him feel like he’s eight again but he’d rather be eight than seventeen, if only for today.

 


 

Izuku wakes to tepid water and his mother’s frantic shaking. He assures her he’s fine, proves it by showing he has no injuries anywhere, and eats the dinner she made. There’s a container of miso soup she tells him not to even think about touching. When he, casually he thinks, brings up Katsuki (who he definitely remembers being there), his mother says he left when she got there.

He tries not to show disappointment at that- or uneasiness, because he really, really needed to talk to Katsuki about the whole thing. But Inko sees right through him. She served his favorite dinner, after all, and afterwards watches a movie with him even though he really should be studying.

Inko fusses over him, asking again if he’s all right before he goes to bed. He hugs her tightly, tells her he’s more than all right, and goes to lie down.

The ceiling above his bed is as familiar to Izuku as the sight of his kitchen or the All Might posters on the wall. He stares at it again, for far too long that night, as he thinks of what it meant. What all of it meant. What Katsuki said, did and then afterwards, that he kept helping, kept coming back. Only to vanish as soon as Izuku could rely on someone else.

He goes to sleep wondering what Katsuki would have made him to eat and if it would have been good.