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97.6 FM

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“Annnnd that’s all for tonight, dickbags. Check back in with me tomorrow night at 5 for your weekly dose of superior music. Try not to cry yourself to sleep after I’m gone. Although, I’m sure that’s inevitable after Shitty Hair takes over snooze central. WHAT? Don’t fucking look at me like that. It’s not my fault you have the personality of a glass of water- Fuck! Whatever, later losers. Tune into 97.6. Ground Zero out.”

He had no business sounding that hot spewing profanities left and right and at this point, Izuku was tired of it. Day in and day out he sprints out of work early to his beat-up old honda just to sit in it for two and a half hours so he can hear this man with a deep, velvety voice bully his audience.

He stays to listen to Ground Zero rant about his life. The music is something that he had to grow into. Izuku has always been the early 2000s starships are meant to fly type of guy, and he honestly assumes that’s why people always call him plain, but after a year of tuning into this station he thinks he got a full emo resurgence. Everyone, please hide your Hot Topics.

Growing up he felt awkward and uncomfortable in his body. Never really caring to have a style, more in search of comfort to quell his growing anxiety. He had always been small and weak and once he got into college that shit didn’t fly anymore. He was still small, but definitely not weak (if the award for thickest thighs and fattest ass he got last month at the gym counts for anything). Izuku thanks God every day for being a yoga instructor. It totally turned his self-image around for the better, but he always knew there was something missing. 

After accidentally spilling an entire water bottle on his phone one night at the gym, he was kinda screwed for music. And every other convenient thing that came along with having a fully functioning phone. His foot managed to crush his puny little apple headphones while in the struggle, and honestly, why the fuck did apple change the phone jack again? He was officially down a pair of nice headphones, not AirPods fuck you those are expensive, and a way to scream DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love at the top of his lungs on the ride home. 

That was actually the first time he had ever heard Ground Zero’s voice through the car radio. Izuku had managed to catch the last half hour of his show and, holy shit is this what the kids are listening to these days? It was only after he heard the host curse loudly after a set and word vomit about how much he wants to strangle the band members for splitting up this year that he realized the music kinda slaps. Maybe. Or the boy with the attitude sounds ridiculously hot and he’s convincing himself it does. 

“And now that my ever-growing desire to strangle half of my coworkers is quenched with some old Bring Me The Horizon, let’s hit another throwback for our middle school sleeves with something less ‘let’s scream our lungs out’ and more ‘let’s scream our lungs out only softer’. Shut up! It doesn’t have to make sense! I’m hot.” 

It wasn’t softer. Izuku was kind of, well definitely, intimidated at first by the music, but refused to change the station in hopes he could absorb some of this guy’s confidence. Izuku was definitely lacking in that department and will probably never reach that level of God Complex, but he refuses to consider that the alternative is that he’s just a masochist and likes the aggressiveness. It probably has something to do with the repressed childhood bullying, but sue him. Therapy is expensive.

And now that it’s been a year of foregoing his Spotify subscription most nights from 5:00 to 7:30, he can officially consider listening to 97.6 as a part of his daily routine. It’s such a routine for him that he feels almost like he knows the guy in a weird one sided friendship type of way. Izuku likes to save the idolization for his comic book hero obsession. It’s kind of hard to not practically adore the guy after so long though. He feels like he knows so much, yet so little about him. 

Ground Zero is now 22, the same age as Izuku. He’s definitely in college, for what, he hasn’t mentioned. Apparently, he’s a blonde, and he likes the color orange and prefers when food is so spicy he can’t feel the roof of his mouth. Trivial things, but precious to Izuku nonetheless. 

It’s also the small, unspoken things that make Izuku feel like he knows him. The music he played was particular to his mood. On the days he seemed somewhat calm he played older, more nostalgic music. It felt like he was taking a peek into his childhood watching an angry blonde haired kid belt his lungs out to hardcore metal completely angry at the world. Izuku didn’t know what it was, but on these days he felt like he was benefiting the most. If he could see his child self once he would give himself one of Ground Zero’s emo playlist as an outlet. Actually, maybe it was a good idea Izuku didn’t have access to music that made him think too hard or the color black. 

It’s because of these songs Izuku theorized Ground Zero probably plays an instrument. His guess is drums or bass because he normally likes a heavy beat. 

Ground Zero doesn’t really have sad days. It’s more like angry and angrier, and the music he plays reflects that. It’s typically when Izuku is glad he doesn’t have a heavy bass on his car or else the poor thing would surely collapse in on itself from the pressure. 

His favorite days are, and he dubs them, Ground Zero’s horny hype session days. According to him, this is the music he likes to play at the gym. They’re the most frequent ones and it’s some weird mix between emo rap and alternative rock or whatever the hell Chase Atlantic is. He’s new to this, give him a break. Izuku prays no one tells his mom he listens to emo rap, but it makes him feel like he’s kind of a bad bitch. To be more specific, it makes him think of Ground Zero as a bad bitch, and also like he’s incredibly horny at the gym. It’s just a fact that he’ll have to take to the grave.

He thinks it’s cool that Ground Zero’s normal, his mundane, sounds like that. It’s convinced him that’s where he gets his confidence. 

‘Sorry I only own basketball shorts and shitty graphic t-shirts’ Izuku Midoriya finds himself to be a new man at this point. He walks with his head held high now that he’s compiled all of his favorite songs in a playlist and actually saved up to buy AirPods so he can keep one in his ear at all times to help with his false confidence. He quite literally faked it till he made it. 

His friends were absolutely ecstatic to see him visibly happier, and even more ecstatic to see him get out of his comfort zone style wise. To be fair there was absolutely no sense of style in the first place, but now that he had finally taken an interest in his appearance, things had changed dramatically. To Izuku’s relief, none of them knew this change had happened entirely because of some radio host with no filter and an anger management track record longer than his chem final. He’s not even majoring in chem.

Izuku feels almost embarrassed that he used to exclusively wear basketball shorts and shirts that scream I got bullied in my adolescence. Not because he used to wear them because he liked them, but instead because he was indifferent about them. He has settled for more than one pair of red shoes, and he also decided he would never stop listening to Mike Poser’s Cooler Than Me, but otherwise, he’s proud of his appearance and completely embraced the new him. 

He’s not entirely the Doc Martin, black eyeliner type of guy, so he settled for never buying bootleg pants again and actually putting in the effort to live out his hot, edgy, dark academia librarian fantasy. Sprinkle in some chains to make it spicy and freak your friends out with a tongue piercing and the occasional kinda crop top (who knew right? definitely not Izuku) and you have a mumbling mess. Now he’s just a hot mumbling mess. Who now wears orange to bed subconsciously as opposed to his old superhero pajamas because he’s chronically gay and pining.

He tries to convince himself that his interest isn’t inherently weird. Comparing the situation to following a Youtuber and knowing a bunch of random shit about them helps until he realizes the obnoxiously stupid crush he has is in fact obnoxious and stupid. He’s been single for two years so he just assumes he’s touch starved and leaves it at that.

It’s not until one Friday evening at the beginning of Ground Zero’s set does Izuku not leave it at that. Something was obviously wrong today and it left him feeling very anxious and fidgety. 

Normally Ground Zero would start the show off with an explosion of energy, teasing the audience with taunts. 

“Did ya miss me you freaks? Hadn’t even been a day and you couldn’t go without my genius to grace your ears. This is 97.6 and I’ll start today off with a song that got me through my morning workout. Had to let off a lot of fucking steam after midterms so don’t expect me to go easy on your asses.”

That’s what Izuku was used to, but today he was lacking his typical massive ego stroke. He sounded tired, slow. On his bad days, Ground Zero got angry. This definitely wasn’t angry, and it left Izuku to chew worryingly on his lip.

“Sup’ it’s Ground Zero with 97.6. I don’t feel like fucking talking today so strap in for some longer tracks or whatever.” 

Izuku heard a sigh before the beat hit which had him panicking even harder because when the hell did Ground Zero play something sad AND slow? Ease Off by YNG Martyr started playing and it felt uncharacteristically exhausting. Izuku had to question when he started thinking this guy was incapable of such emotions and felt a little guilty. 

Without thinking about how absolutely stupid and borderline stalkerish he was about to be, Izuku found himself dialing into the radio station. There’s no way in hell he had a spare brain cell left in his head, because what the fuck would he even say? Oh God, he should really just hang up and forget about this whole thing. Ground Zero is probably just fine and he’s being weird and, and-

“This is Yueei Radio. This is Mina Ashindo speaking how may I help you?” She sounded like she was bored, almost reading from a script.

A squeak, like a genuine squeak, left his mouth and Izuku was mortified. 

“Um, excuse me. If you’re going to prank call us at least be funny about it.” She sounded young. 

“Oh, uh, hey. Yeah, this is really dumb, but I was just wondering, uh...” He hasn’t stumbled over his words like this in years. He was so fucking nervous, but a snicker on the other end had him releasing the flood gates. “I’m just a listener, but I was just kind of concerned because Ground Zero sounded kind of down and I just really wanted to let him know that I really enjoy his set and absolutely mean this is the least creepy way possible, but I hope he like, I don’t know, feels better or something. If there is a problem that is, and if there isn’t a problem then I’m really really sorry for like imposing-“

“Hey, kid you need to take a breath.” 

Oh god she’s right and that was like a big run-on sentence and he’s utterly embarrassed at this point. Should he hang up?

“You sound like a cutie.” He burns at those words. “Oh my god, this is so scandalous. I can’t believe our angry little Pomeranian has an admirer!”

“I-I’m not an ad-“

“Okay, so details! He’s doing a show right now, but I think it’s totally cute you noticed he was in a bad mood. I’ll leave him a note for when he’s done. Sound good?”

There’s so much to process with this conversation that his head is spinning, but ultimately he nods until he realizes she can’t see him. “That works. Just let him know I like listening to him and that I hope he feels better. It’s more like him when he’s berating us...”

“What’s your name so I can leave it with him? This is so cute I’m excited to be the messenger for once! I feel like I’m in a Hallmark Christmas movie.” 

“Oh, uh, just put Deku I guess?” Putting his real name is a little more terrifying. At least this way there’s no way for him to be tracked down and pantsed. That totally sounds like something Ground Zero would do, and he’s a little upset at himself for not hating the prospect. Had he always been into weird shit? 

“Alright, Izuku Midoriya! No problem.” He could feel the wink through the phone.


“Caller ID, babe. I asked out of common curiosity, but don’t worry I’ll keep your identity a secret! This is gonna be so much fun oh my god.”

What the hell did he just do? 


Izuku found himself freaking out over the phone call until he finally arrived at Momo’s condo and everyone was shoving shots in his face. Thank god for expensive tequila tasting like water. By the end of the night, he convinced himself that Ground Zero probably could care less that some random listener called in to say hi. His voice sounded like sin and there’s no way it wasn’t a common occurrence. 

Yeah totally. Plenty of people are into the whole aggressive douchebag hot guy persona. It would be fine.

Except it wasn’t fine and the next day at 5:10 on the dot Izuku is sitting in his car with his head about to explode from all the heat rushing to his cheeks. There had to be steam coming out of his ears at this point. Did he hear that right?

“Just because I gave y’all a break yesterday doesn’t mean you got rid of me just yet. I wasn’t on my game, but get your lame asses ready for some sick new beats today. Everyone can thank your golden star student Deku for callin’ into the station yesterday. He said I was going easy on y’all and he’s right. I’m gonna destroy your asses tonight, fuckwads. What kind of loser name is Deku by the way? Gotta check up on your favorite radio host to get him to yell at you properly? I appreciate the enthusiasm. Anyways I’m feeling extra mean today, here's Assholes by Hooligan Chase.”

Izuku had been listening to him for so long. He knows what he sounds like when Ground Zero is being a dick, and despite the very dick things that came out of his mouth, he can tell it was appreciative in some weird way. 

There have been plenty of occasions when people wrote in to the show to complain about his profanity. The way they were ripped to shreds was almost carnal, but his tone today had no bite to it. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to call back, but it was almost instantaneous after hearing the taunts. 

The response was immediate, almost like Mina had been waiting for his call. “Deku, my favorite mystery caller! I gotta thank you for calling yesterday. Almost thought I was gonna die a fiery death at first, but it’s totally cool. I was saved when I explained everything to him. Seems like you managed to cheer him up just like he needed.” 

He didn’t expect this response. He expected to be ignored, maybe mocked at most. To think dorky Izuku managed to cheer up Ground Zero. He could die feeling accomplished.

“I figured there would be plenty of people calling in with a similar message. He is pretty popular in this town.”

“Oh, hun, yeah right. I get bombarded with threats daily because he can’t keep his dumb mouth shut and not cause an argument on air. The only positive comments I get are thirsty listeners making very inappropriate propositions. Seems like he’s especially popular with the ladies. At least his voice is.”

Izuku can relate to the last part, but at least he prides himself on a sense of morality. As for angry comments, that’s definitely in the realm of possibilities. Just last week he told someone they would look better with their fist in their mouth instead of their ass. 

“I’m happy to provide some normalcy then,” he chuckles. “I didn’t want to get yelled at properly as he put it, more so prefer him when he’s happy. Which I guess happy for him is yelling. Either way, I guess he called me out there. I just hope a good night's rest helped him out.”

“You definitely can read him like a book, it's crazy.”

“Hard not to after listening to him for the past year. I guess that makes me kind of a fanboy, but oh well.”

“Oh, I’m so relaying this information.” She's sly that one.

“You wouldn’t dare! I’m already humiliated enough as it is...” It’s crazy how easily he feels like he can talk to Mina. It’s like they’ve been friends for years and this is just another hangout. He figures making people feel comfortable is her superpower. Or her job. 

“You totally don’t get it! I told him a caller was worried and praised him and I thought I almost saw a smile on his big, dumb face. It was like an eighth world wonder. It helped that I said you sounded adorable.”

Oh god, his face is going to stain this shade of red permanently. “As long as he’s feeling better...”

There was a squeal on the other line.


Izuku’s everyday life seemed to continue as normal after the show. It was Sunday. Today was meant to go to work and overthink all day. Normally he kept the overthinking exclusively after hours on days he absolutely needed sleep, but Izuku was an overachiever. 

It seemed like his 2:30 class noticed his spacey behavior as well. He held certain stretches for far longer than normal and he could tell some of the newer students were struggling. Normally he’s mindful of other people’s flexibility. Not everyone can bring their foot behind their head comfortably, and he forgets that it was a bumpy ride to get that far sometimes. 

“Breathe out into the child’s pose and relax your body. You can stay like this until you’re ready to move again. Take your time and don’t rush.” This was a place for meditation. Absolutely no thoughts head completely empty.

Except it wasn’t empty and he was thinking about a faceless blonde with a deep voice who specifically said “I’m going to destroy your asses, fuckwads.” Who says that anyway? Izuku choked on his own spit at the memory mid stretch back. 

He blushed as his friend Ochako eyed him precariously from the front. She’s definitely going to ask him about it.

“What’s up, Deku? You look like you were having some really intrusive thoughts a moment ago.” They were both sporting a heavy layer of sweat when she approached him. He curses her ability to read minds. 

“I really hate you sometimes, you know.”

“I know, but what was it? Thinkin’ about a boy?”

He was. “Of course not!”

She didn’t seem convinced. “Keep lying to me, babe. I know everything.” There was a sly smile on her lips. “Gotta get that good stretch in for your horizontal workouts.”

He hates her so so so much. 

Like clockwork, he gets in his car for his drive home at 4:30. The spike in mid day coffee consumption happened around 6 months ago. Any excuse to stay in his car and drive around is good in his book. It makes him look less dorky sitting in a parking lot feeling himself if he has a caramel iced coffee to chug it down. 

The metal pep talk he gives himself is one for the history books. The one off chance the Ground Zero mentioned him indirectly one time is completely insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but he finds himself hoping for more. It’s as if he's gotten a taste of the boy’s attention and now he wants to glutton himself on it.

Ground Zero started his show like normal. Izuku’s heart was beating out of his chest. This crush is getting ridiculous.

“It’s Sunday with Ground Zero and you know what that means. Time to worship my ass for the next few hours. It truly is a holy day despite the shitstorm I had to experience. Sprained my damn hand playing a little football like a pleb. If I could murder a sport, then I would.” 

Oh great so he sounds like the human embodiment of a greek good and he’s athletic. Great, this is great. Izuku thinks he’s probably always been outgoing. Never a moment in his life for doubt. 

“So I hear I have a new fanboy. At least you admitted to wanting to be yelled at by me. I’ll take that as me being superior in every way. Oh and you don’t need to worry about my sleep schedule, nerd. I’m not one of those high school virgins who spend all night jerking it to overwatch characters. In bed by 9:30 or else my early workout would have my ass. Being this hot has its setbacks. Hm, Jealous? You should be.”

Oh god oh god oh god-

He gripped his stealing wheel right and leaned forward for added support, because oh my god this is really happening. The way he talks about himself should seriously be a turn off, but how the hell can he not find it endearing when he sounds the way he does? 

Izuku lets out a scream and he listens as the radio plays a song he hasn’t heard yet. Ground Zero is definitely in a good mood and his picks reflect that today.

He finds himself dialing the station again on autopilot. Mina had been waiting.

“Didhereallysaythatonairordoeshehavenofilter? I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t jerk off to overwatch porn and I'm not in high school. I’m 22 and have a very normal sleep schedule and he’s so embarrassing I’m going to die.” He didn’t care if he made sense and opted for word vomiting.

“I was starting to get afraid you wouldn’t call! Please never stop calling because this is giving me so much life. Work would be excruciating without you.”

He likes to feel appreciated. “I may be short but I look my age, okay? Is he always this blunt in real life or is it just a persona thing?”

He can hear a giggle on the other end. “Sorry, short stack. He’s literally always like this. Honestly, I think he’s more intense in person.”

A groan. “Explains why he’s so active. Gotta let out that aggression somehow or else his big head will explode on itself.”

“My, my Deku is that sass I hear?”

“I’m afraid what would happen if I said yes.”

He really likes talking to Mina. Even if Ground Zero wasn’t involved he thinks they would be good friends.


As much as he thought the back and forth was a one off thing he is surprised to hear another response the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Until it’s been practically two weeks of these short, secret talks, and Izuku is starting to hate how very real his crush is getting. Less of an innocent infatuation and more of a genuine butterfly feeling in his stomach. 

Their “talks” seemed to border on light flirting sometimes, which is crazy because they don’t even know what each other looks like. He just knows this is something that he looks forward to, and now when he goes out and sees a blond head of hair he always wonders if it were Ground Zero. 

“Our daily shoutout to Deku the champion of being the ballsiest person in the room. I hear you think my head is too big for itself, but hate to break it to you. All of me is big. Maybe next time just admit you can’t handle it and I won’t have to fucking kill you nerd.”

“Call me a jock one more fucking time, shorty. See how it feels to be thrown around like a doll. I may be sweet, but don’t push your luck. I got skills even with a brace on.”

And he loves it. He loves the feeling of having the attention of someone he admires and their short, yet delayed bickering. It gives him a surge of confidence. He finds himself smiling a lot more throughout the day. It’s been only a week, but he feels like this has become such a significant part of his daily life. 

He’s in class thinking about how he got called a whore the day before for insinuating Ground Zero listens to anything that would be made into a tik tok dance and what that did to his stomach when he gets a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: I got tired of using Pinky as a go between. She’s too nosy for her own good. 

This is weird. Who the hell is Pinky?

Izuku: sorry i think you have the wrong number !

Unknown: Shut the fuck up Deku.

Izuku: waif is this 

Izuku: holy shit ground zero???

Unknown: Wow you’re dumber one on one. Here I thought Mina was exaggerating.

Izuku took a moment to have a mini panic attack. He was talking to Ground Zero. 

Unknown: Call me Katsuki by the way. 

Before it was easy because he had Mina as a mediator. There wasn’t a need to feel nervous when he was laughing and joking along with her. He felt so close, yet so unattainable, and yet now Ground Zero is texting him. He’s a real person who is texting him. What does he even say? Izuku assumes the first thing that comes out of his mouth is going to be stupid and ruin any chances of a real friendship with the guy, but fuck if he’s not absolutely freaking out.

No more fake names. No more wondering who this guy was. He tasted his name on his tongue and almost forgot where he was because the sound had a few of the students around him looking over. 

Izuku: oh god the texts are green

Really? First one on one conversation and he’s going to bring up iPhone supremacy?

Unknown: Do you and your shitty iPhone want to die, nerd?

Unknown: Unfucking believable. 

Izuku: iPhones look better okay? it’s for the aesthetic 

Unknown: They have absolutely no functionality. They’re about as useless as your name.

Unknown: Also, fuck you. My razor looks beautiful. 

Izuku: of course you have a razor. What, do you have led lights and two light up monitors in your room?

He seems to have forgotten to change the filter in his brain to not say the first thing that comes to mind. 

Unknown: You really do have a death wish don’t you? 

Izuku is so entranced in the conversation he forgets to actually save the number. He should probably do that before he forgets. Just in case. 

For some reason, he finds talking to Katsuki easier than he had ever expected. He was riding a wave of adrenaline and wits and never wanted this moment to end. 

Izuku: i’m ok but thank you for the offer

Izuku: i’ll be sure to ask for permission to die next time the situation arises

Katsuki: You have a mouth on you don’t you?

That text message shouldn’t have done what it did to Izuku’s stupid, horny brain. 

Izuku: i’ve been told :)

He is so hooked on the idea of texting Katsuki, then he finds himself nervous about letting the conversation die. What about tonight? Does this mean he should stop calling into the station... He’s asking before he gets a chance to stop himself.

Izuku: does texting me mean you’re trying to get rid of me

He expected the wait between messages to last longer, but the response was immediate.

Katsuki: Fuck no.

Katsuki: If you stopped calling the station then Mina would have my head.

Katsuki: Why? Do you like it when I’m mean to you on air more? 

Izuku: dodnkermienekedji

Izuku: now i’m gonna kill you 

Katsuki: I’d like to see you try, nerd.

Izuku has been gay long enough to know that he’s terrible at picking up flirting. It’s risky because, again, they don’t know each other, but there have been several times when guys at the gym have approached him and asked to spot him and then given him their number only for Izuku to be told by Ochako later that, yes, they were hitting on him. But this feels like flirting on his end and he has too much gay panic in him to know what to do about it.

Izuku had been listening to Katsuki for over a year. Katsuki had only learned about Izuku two weeks ago. He really has to stop jumping to conclusions. Katsuki might not even be into guys. It’s like a bucket of ice water over his very warm body. He’s gonna try his hardest to be friends with the man before he decides to fall in love. 

Izuku: anyways is it true people call you an angry little pomeranian ????



“You gave him my number?”

Izuku found himself calling the station that day despite not needing to communicate with Ground Zero as if they were speaking in code. 

“In my defense, he had been wearing me down to give him your number for a while! Which reminds me. As fun as this is, I wouldn’t mind texting you myself as well. Unless you were only after our angry prince this whole time.”

He hadn’t thought about that. Honestly, he’s been so used to just calling the station to get in touch with her that asking to talk outside of their interactions had scared him. 

“I would never have ulterior motives!” He exaggerated his innocence with a gasp. “You’re always welcome to text me. I mean I know this is a weird way to make friends, but I’d be sad if it ended.”

“Deku don’t be silly! You’re stuck with me now. Katsuki is the grumpiest man alive. Honestly, if I didn’t have you I wouldn’t know a damn thing about what’s been going on.”

“Now you seem like the one with ulterior motives.”

“You caught me! You’ve been the talk of our friend group for weeks so can you blame me?” 

“I’m afraid to ask what that means. He doesn’t seem like the type to care about some random fan. I seriously thought he’d write me off.”

Mina was quiet for a moment before answering. “Welllllll look I had some notably late regret and was afraid you were some weird stalker the first week, sooo I kinda did some digging and found your Instagram and your Twitter and your Facebook and realized you were mega hot.”

“Oh my god you’ve seen my All Might collection a-“

“It’s an impressive collection by the way. Don’t worry I didn’t show him anything, but the second I mentioned the cute boy who keeps calling into our show to bully our favorite Katsuki was actually really cool he got embarrassed and has been harassing me ever since.”

“Women are so scary.” His mind immediately teleported him to the time Tsuyu and Ochako found the entire extended family and their baby pictures of some guy in the Starbucks line. He was impressed but terrified.

“And don’t you forget it. Plus I think the day you first called he really needed the pick me up. He’s not very communicative even with his friends.” 

That thought had made him a little sad. He doesn’t like to imagine Ground Zero holding in whatever stress he’s going through, but from his constant overly inflated ego he realizes that it must be his normal. 


The morning after he first received the text message from Katsuki, Izuku was panicking out the door in a rush. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, despite promptly saying goodnight to Katsuki at 10:00. His eyes were still puffy with sleep on his way to campus. 

The coffee shop he likes to stop by at before class is quieter than usual. The morning rush must have come and gone earlier. He was thankful for the almost peaceful atmosphere when he went inside. 

“Oh, hey Todoroki! Quiet morning?” He offered a bright smile despite his tired demeanor. 

Although his friend was most definitely loaded, almost as much as Momo, the coffee shop was a good fit for him during college. Something about pissing off his father by working for himself rather than at Endeavor's big tech company. As far as customer service goes, Todoroki takes the cake with his stoic expression.

“Midoriya, it’s good to see you.” There was a small semblance of a smile on his lips while he dried off the counter. “It’s been slow this morning. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I heard you’ve been swamped recently with Aizawa’s paper.”

“Hot Chocolate again?”

“Yes please.”

“I’m convinced Aizawa wants me dead with the amount of work he’s been assigning.”

“I believe in you! Only one more semester!” He had meant that to be hopeful, but he saw how the other had deadpanned his way.

“Your optimism is sickening.”

Izuku was keen on getting an early start today. His class wasn’t until later, but he had a pretty important paper to finish before he went, so he used his time to sit in the shop and work until his fingers fell off. Time management was just not on his list of things he cared to change about himself at the moment. The distraction was welcomed to quell his overworked thoughts. 

He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice when his phone buzzed silently on the table. It was only until about an hour later that he finished his paper, stretching his back with a soft groan. The stress practically rolled off his shoulders. 

When he finally checked his phone again his face turned bright red.

Katsuki: You better not have stayed up late, idiot. 

He did, but it was all his fault anyway! He buried his face in his arms in pure embarrassment. Embarrassed about what, he couldn’t say. Texting two days in a row was not something he prepared his heart for. The nervousness still hadn’t subsided from yesterday.

Katsuki: Sleeping in till noon is noob shit.

Double texting means he wants to talk to him right? Oh my god.

Izuku: i had a paper to finish i swear!

Izuku: thanks for the concern tho :”)

He got a response quickly as he started packing his things.

Katsuki: Who said anything about concern? 

Katsuki: Forgot to ask yesterday. What’s your name? Real name, not that nickname shit.

Katsuki had only given him part of his name, so would it be okay to do the same? He had considered laying all of his cards out on the table. ‘Hi, hello, this is my face and my name and my social security number, please date me.’ Honestly, that would be the easiest thing to do, but the very thought of being vulnerable again leaves a pit in his stomach. That was a feeling he thought he’d never have to experience again.

Izuku: how rude of me. Its izuku!!!

Katsuki: Yeah, I take it back. Deku is better.

He smiled at that, but the anxiety was still there. He can’t screw this up.


The great thing about Mina was she made his fears about being too much too soon melt away. 

He had convinced himself this whole situation was a passing thing. That he would slowly lose touch with the both of them after a while. He never expected how frequently they would talk, or how close they would get to one another. 

Mina didn’t in fact have ulterior motives. Her job as a receptionist might have brought them together along with Izuku’s fanboy tendencies, but he noticed the longer they spoke, the less they talked about that. 

She would text him frequently about school and work but otherwise stuck to begging him to go out dancing with her a lot. Apparently, she was a sucker for some party music and a good time.

Mina: u should tune in at noon on weekends sometime!! my friend Kaminari plays a lot of good dance mixes. like if ur into 3oh!3 or anything

Mina: u would like him

izuku: i’ll have to check his set out then! you would probably like my friends too. ida isn’t much of a partier but ochako loves to dance

Mina: that’s why i’m saying we HAVE to go dancing!!!!! i’ve stalked ur socials u know! u can shake ass i’ve seen it! 

Izuku: buy me a round of shots and i’ll consider it

Mina: oh hell yeah >:)

Despite growing so close, it felt weird to think about meeting up. Like this whole thing was a simulation and the second he tried to break the mold it would blow up in his face. 

He knew she had access to his life online, but that was exactly why he didn’t go searching for hers. Ignorance is bliss. 


Katsuki was even more surprising. Their texting didn’t stop as Izuku had assumed. Instead, he started to wake up every morning expecting some grievance about his inability to wake up at 5:00 am like a blonde maniac he knows.

The little shoutouts on air were less direct, but still there. Small hidden gems from their conversations prior that had him smiling from ear to ear.

“Gotta learn how to make Katsudon tonight because some little shit had to bet me that I couldn’t make it myself. I’ll have y'all know that Gordon Ramsy himself would kiss my ass in the kitchen.”

That comment in particular was directed at him. He had been going grocery shopping that day and confessed to Katsuki that he was completely useless in the kitchen. The only thing he knows how to make well is his favorite, but even then it’s not near as good as the way his mom makes it. One conversation led to another, and Katsuki was mad enough about his eating habits to use all caps lock. It’s hard not to push his buttons on purpose when he was so easy to mess with,

Katsuki: Don’t fuck with me. I’m going to make the best damn Katsudon you’ve ever had. It’ll be so good you’ll be moaning loud enough to piss off your neighbors. 

“Need a fucking pick me up after being forced to stay up a little later than normal. Y’all fuckers post about me needing beauty sleep one more time on the website and I'm giving you a black eye.”

Apparently, Katsuki didn’t know that the beauty sleep comment had become a meme for the station online and he was pissed when he found out. So pissed he stayed up until 11:00 ranting to Izuku about how he wasn’t some princess who needed something as worthless as that. He wasn’t going to complain considering he got to talk to him longer, but he did think it was cute when Katsuki abruptly stopped responding. 

They would talk so long some days it was like he was in a permanent good mood. The way he was so combative on air translated seamlessly through text. It was like he was always being himself no matter what, and that was a trait Izuku really started to love about him. He wasn’t afraid of what he wanted, nor did he question his own abilities to do absolutely anything.

And Izuku found himself speaking freely in return. He was always a big ball of sass and sarcasm in his head. That is if you looked past the nervous energy. 

Anytime Katsuki made a quip at him, he shot right back. From the way he got even more heated in return, Izuku is convinced he likes it. Probably as much as Izuku liked him because even though this started out as some dorky crush on a pseudo kind of celebrity, there’s no denying how he feels right now. He likes him so fucking much. 

From the start of calling into the station to now, it has been about a month of this. Roughly two weeks of texting with no moves towards anything more. Izuku would be lying if he didn’t wish he could just call him some days. To hear his voice outside of the awkward bass of his car would be like a dream come true. 

There was no move to reveal more of either of their identities. Not that Izuku had much to hide, but it felt like a taboo topic. They sent pictures back and forth of dumb things, but it always ended there. When Katsuki made the Katsudon he had sent a picture that rivaled some Michelin chef’s Instagram. Izuku had sent a picture back of his instant ramen which dealt him another mini scolding. 

That was the extent of it. The feelings of inadequacy festered in the back of his mind. Years of bullying still managed to make him question whether or not he deserved this friendship. He had spent so long proving himself that he didn’t expect to feel this way again. Now that his stomach started to churn whenever Katsuki’s name lit up his phone, these anxieties swallowed him whole at the prospect of revealing more of himself.

He had minimal experience with relationships to understand the way he was feeling, having only dated once previously. It was a pleasant relationship at first. They held hands like it was their first time touching another person, too tentative and unsure to press further. Izuku can remember feeling nothing the first time they kissed, wondering if this is how it was supposed to feel. He was used to going with the motions, happy because he liked his boyfriend. They were good friends and he was handsome, so of course, he should like him. 

Their downfall hurt far worse than it should have considering the way Izuku felt. Being cheated on is never a good end to any relationship. Perhaps the betrayal of a friend was what hurt the most. His naivety got the better of him. Surely no one would lie to his face, right?

Embarrassingly enough it took a good, long month of crying in a blanket burrito and eating a humiliating amount of moose tracks to get over the tragedy. His friends broke into his apartment on more than one occasion to force him to watch anything other than Crazy Rich Asians on repeat. True love like what Rachel Chu and Nick Young had seemed like it was completely out of reach at the time.

Apparently, he had been zoned out thinking about the past too long because his phone buzzed obnoxiously on his desk. A long day of classes and work had him slumped in his chair going over papers he obviously did not want to do. Remind him why he wanted to go into public relations again.

Katsuki: Mina said you listened to Pikachu’s show too, what the fuck.

Enough of papers for tonight. This was far more important. With a giggle, Izuku clutched his phone and flopped on his bed.

Izuku: there you go with your dorky nicknames… is that supposed to be denki?

Katsuki: The fuck you mean dorky?

Katsuki: Answer the damn question. I thought you had better taste than that.

Izuku: can’t a guy listen to a little metro station now and then? don’t tell me ur jealous

Katsuki: So the fuck what if I am?

Is this really happening? Did Katsuki really say he was jealous of Izuku listening to another show? He had to be blushing so much he could feel the heat creep down to his neck. He refuses to believe this means anything.

While his mind was going a mile a minute trying to psychoanalyze whatever the hell Katsuki meant by that display of affection, all of his motor processing skills stopped when his phone rang and the familiar display of Katsuki’s contact appeared on his screen. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shi-

“Yo, I figured it would be easier to call or whatever.”

When did he accept the call? His voice is gruff and full of gravel, much deeper than he sounds when he's on air. It’s a sound he thinks he’ll remember for the rest of his life.

“Hey nerd you there?”

“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to call.”

There was a deep sigh before Katsuki responded again. “Gotta problem with it?”

“No! I’m glad you did.”

He was quick. “You sound just like I thought you would.”

The statement took him aback and made him nervous. “I’m sorry?” 

“Quit fuckin’ apologizing. It’s cute, alright.” 

The word cute coming out of Katsuki’s mouth sounds foreign, but it did things to Izuku that he wouldn’t dare admit. “Kaachannnn, you can’t just say that.” It came out almost like a whine, but as soon as it left his mouth he covered it shut in panic. Kaachan was just what he called him in his head. He never thought he’d say it out loud. 

“Oh, you think because we’re friends now you can give me shitty nicknames you damn Deku?” He chuckled over the phone and it was like a soft breath in his ear. “Whatever, just don’t tell Mina or I’ll kill you.”

“Kaachan, did you just admit we were friends?” He felt giddy with excitement, his tone bordering on teasing.

“That’s a real nice compliment for you. Better soak it in while I’m feeling nice.”

There was a feeling of electricity in the air between them while they spoke, and he chased it throughout the night secretly wishing for more. Laying on his bed with his legs dangling in the air like a teenage girl he felt at home. The shallow breaths on the other line washed over him, and he wasn’t sure when he fell asleep with his phone jammed between his cheek and the sheets, but he was sure he hadn’t slept so great in years. 


Izuku prides himself on the fact that his feelings for the blonde came first. He was hung up on his every word before they even started communicating. He considered himself a normal, healthy adult. The brash attitude and ASMR worthy voice were hot, he’ll admit, but it wasn’t until they started talking on the phone that the dreams started.

Dreams of a faceless man towering over him, trailing his hands down Izuku’s body. The dream always felt real. Filth would leave his mouth and contradict the soft touches against his skin. 

Izuku woke up most mornings harder than he had ever been in his life, silently thanking whatever god that he lived alone.

He was always in a rush to leave so taking care of such a persistent problem was impossible. Time management was not his strong suit, unfortunately. Penciling jerking off into his schedule made the whole situation much more embarrassing. His friends were starting to notice how irritable he was, but explaining to the people you look in the eyes every day that you haven’t masturbated in a while sounds like death by humiliation.

He feels guilty every time he tries. Katsuki has become such a key figure in his life at this point that he can’t breathe without the other coming up in some fashion. Izuku knows he would never admit it, but Katsuki is clingy on the down low. He has no problem double or triple texting him if he takes a while to respond. Phone calls have also become a regular part of their interactions to a point where whenever either of them has a minor inconvenience it’s like free real estate to rant to the other. 

It’s not like they're emotionally dependent on each other. Izuku recognizes that they talk a lot, but only as much as he texts and hangs out with his other friends. Well, maybe just a tad more. As much as he loves feeling appreciated by his friends, he’s kind of sick of it right now.

If he’s not hanging out with Ochako at work, or studying with Ida and Todoroki at the coffee shop after classes, or texting Mina about that new Kpop group she showed him or talking with Tsuyu and Momo about getting the gang together soon, or listening to his stupid fucking best friend sound like he’s going to commit arson on air, then he’s absolutely crying into his dinner because his dick is going to fall off. 

It takes Katauki’s next show to make him snap. 

There was a big release of air and a drawn out “Fuuuuck” that vibrated his whole body.

Izuku’s brain short circuited from all of his brain cells melting away on the spot. That sound should have been illegal. 

“Shitty hair over here spilled some water on the equipment. Need a minute for some technical difficulties. Don’t fucking go anywhere. Especially my biggest fan.”

Oh, fuck Katsuki. That last part was definitely a dig at him and he was going to go wherever the hell he needed to go to take care of his very obnoxious problem. He thinks this is the first time he has ever missed the rest of one of Katsuki’s shows. 

All logic and morals went out of the window when he found himself flopped on his bed soon after. He was too heated to take off more than his pants and underwear opting to clutch on the fabric of his shirt for moral support because he was totally going to do this. 

He was absolutely going to get off to Katsuki’s voice. It was a line he didn’t expect to cross anytime soon, and honestly made him question how he’s going to be able to speak to him seriously after, but Izuku figures that’s a problem for his future self. Present self very much wants to cum. 

The lube was behind his pillow from the last time he decided to have a self care night. From the looks of it, he was going to need to buy more soon from that sketchy Pink Pony behind the gas station.

Tonight there is no time for slow and sensual, instead, he pops the cap and coats his fingers. He feels greasy and wet, but the warmth from his fingers lets him lose himself in the sensation. One hand ghosts over his dick while his body jerks in anticipation. The other bypasses it in general and smears the liquid over his hole. 

The plus side to his last boyfriend was that he found out he really likes sex. The intimacy was alright, but during his grieving, he came to the conclusion that his lack of interest in the formalities of being with his ex had everything to do with an absence of emotional attraction to the other. The only time Izuku felt anything was when he was being fucked within an inch of his life. Buildup was something that was left to be desired in his ex boyfriends tragic case (because foreplay who), but the moments where his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost all ability to think created the biggest discovery in Izuku’s young life. He liked being destroyed. 

When he closes his eyes and imagines Katsuki doing these things to him it’s different. The way Katsuki is so driven to be good at everything tells him everything he needs to know. He thinks about the way Katsuki would be desperate to touch everywhere, the way he would move with a sense of purpose. Would he have a fat cock, big hands? It’s so hard to assume things about someone he has never met before, but he squeezes his eyes shut harder and tries anyways. 

Katsuki’s cock, red and weeping on his tongue, fucking into his mouth with little regard for his breathing.

Katsuki’s hands in his hair, forcing him to look into his eyes while he stretches him open on his fingers. 

Katsuki’s thighs flexing with the movement of his hips, pushing deeper and harder into Izuku’s plaint body. 

He’s crying with the way three fingers doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Rapid movements cause his hand to cramp up while his other has to pick up the slack. 

The stroke of his wrist goes faster, more desperate. 

He feels like he’s wound so tight that one wrong move would push him over the edge. 

Katsuki’s voice laughing menacingly in his ear, cooing at the way he wines.

“You gonna be a good boy for me and cum over my cock like a whore?” 


“I want your whole complex knowing what kind of a slut I made you, Deku.”

Oh god. A hand firmly placed around his throat held there with a small squeeze.

“Kaachan, Kaachan, Kaachan-“

This is it. There’s no going back.


Katsuki: Oh your ass is grass.

Izuku: actually according to my gym it deserves the fattest ass award

There was a pause. Izuku had meant it merely as a joke, if not a slight flex. The lack of response had him overthinking that crossed a line.

Katsuki: Sorry dweeb but I’m gonna need proof of a title like that.

Katsuki: You know, for science. 

Right, science, of course. He really debated the seriousness of Kaachan’s request. If he wasn’t serious and Izuku did send actual proof he could always play it off as a joke. He has the poorly made “official document” they gave him still on his desk. He could just send that, but Izuku would be damned if he didn’t want to show off his best asset just a little. 

With a bite to his lip, Izuku maneuvered his body away from his mirror. This is crazy. He was in the clothes he usually wore to lounge around the house. A big black and orange long sleeve shirt and some soft, cotton shorts that were way too short to wear out of the house. He doesn’t want to admit that he only bought the shirt a few months ago because Ground Zero had mentioned on the air how much he likes the colors together. It was some rant about Halloween having the best colors and how all other holidays can suck his dick. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he took a picture. He refuses to skip leg day at the gym and it was evident in the way he filled out his shorts. The way his back arched accentuated the curve of his hips in a way that was almost sinful. He was always proud of the way his legs looked soft and smooth, unlike his arms that were littered with scars from years of being accident prone in his youth.

Izuku sent it before he could realize it was a stupid idea. This was the closest he had ever been to sending Katsuki a picture even though his face wasn’t in it. It figures it’s a picture of his ass. 

Katsuki: Fuck.

Katsuki: Science might have to agree with you on that one, Freckles.


Izuku woke up at 2 in the morning on a Saturday to the sound of his phone having a panic attack. His friends weren’t normally the type of night owls to contact him so late, so he was immediately concerned when he grabbed his phone.

There was sleep still in his eyes by the time he pressed it to his ear. “Hey?” He didn’t know who was calling, too tired to look before he answered. His voice croaked from the lack of use.

“I wanna see you.”

It was Katsuki.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was about three seconds away from blowing up the next sorry extra to come up to him and say something fucking stupid. Nothing about this shitty day could get worse than it already had been. He glared at the middle aged woman with peppered hair who had been staring at him from across the street. The sudden urge to spit in her kids ice cream came to him, but he had been to anger management for two years longer than he’d like to admit and he’d die before he had to look at that rat therapist ever again. 

Be as cool as ice but with a warm heart. Fuck that slogan so hard. Fear alone of having to hear that one more time had him curbing his attitude more than anything. 

Short bursts of air through his nostrils only managed to accelerate his bad mood unfortunately.

What kind of bullshit phone call did he just have? His anger morphed into something wet and hot, an emotion grossly unfamiliar to him.

“She’s doing just fine, but the airbag did some damage to her ribs. A few fractures and a concussion. Really, Katsuki, you don’t have to make the trip all the way out here-“

“Fuck you I’m driving to the hospital after work and you’re going to tell me which one she’s at.”

His idiot mother got hit by a fucking car. Some dumbass driving a Ford Focus. Out of all the cars who had to hit her why was it a Ford fucking Focus? 

Katsuki’s relationship with his mother had always been better than he could have ever hoped for. His short temper and filthy mouth was like a DNA copy of Mitsuki’s. On the outside it didn’t seem like they got along at all, but they understood each other the most, and he’d be damned if she died by some douchebag who drove a birth control car like that. 

Shit like this didn’t happen to him or his family. He doesn’t get cryptic ass text messages from his dad like “Your mom is in ER. Car accident xo -Dad” with absolutely no explanation for hours. When he sees them both next he’s gonna kill them for that major heart attack. 

He knows his mom. She’s too much of a maniac to go down like that, but for those couple of hours of not knowing, not being able to do anything, he felt like he was going to snap like a twig. 

Dad: I’ll call you back in a bit. She got out, she’s stable :P -Dad

Who let this man use fucking emojis? We aren’t in the 1900s where we have to sign our fucking name like it’s a love letter. Everything about this pissed him off. 

Like that fucking helped either. Might have helped two hours ago when he was in the middle of class, rushing back to his apartment to find his car keys. Why the hell weren’t they weren’t where he left them again? He owns a key bowl for a fucking reason.

He feels so helpless right now. That feeling doesn’t go away when he gets a call from his mother as he’s rushing out the door. His keys were in his jacket from the day before and the knowledge made his eye twitch.

“Hey brat stay where the hell you are. I’m fine.” She sounded irritated, but the notion itself only managed to make Katsuki pop a blood vessel.

“Oh shut up! I’m only coming to beat some sense into you for almost dying on me. Think you can run away so easily, huh?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? Like I’d let some bald headed loser in polo shorts kill me.” Oh he was never going to let her live that down. The playful banter made him release a breath of air he was holding. 

“Honey you can’t say that. They’re in the room next to us.” His dad was like a ball of nervous energy in the background, less for his wife and more for what she’s going to do to their infirmary neighbors. 

“I can say what I want. What are they gonna do about it? Run me over with their car? Whatever, anyways, I don’t want you coming all the way out here when I’m fine. You can’t do anything about it, so just stay put.”

He wasn’t wanting to admit how much that last part hung over his head. He hates her because she’s fucking right. He can’t do anything about the situation, and it doesn’t matter how angry he gets, the power of fucking friendship and will or determination can’t help him. Life isn’t some anime. 

Self doubt is not something Katsuki gets to experience very often. He already had his major character development when he came to college, having to recognize that he wasn’t this big shot that knew everything, so why are these feelings coming back now? He did his time. 

He knows they’re right. The new apartment he got specifically to be closer to campus was expensive, and he couldn’t miss work or else his finances would be all out of whack. He just visited his hometown last month. His year internship pays him only slightly above shit. One day he’s going to run circles around his greedy ass boss, but for now he has to settle for his depressing pay.

A sigh, “Fine. Keep me updated this time or you’re dead.”

Mitsuki only laughs, “I love you too.”

God, now he really doesn’t want to go to work. Normally listening to music all day only makes him feel better, but he doesn’t have the energy to be charming on air. 

His parents kept their promise and updated him throughout the day, and for that he’s grateful. Being worried wasn’t really a good look on him, but neither was questioning all of his life choices. It’s too early for him to have a mid-life crisis. 

He had always been gifted and so sure of himself. Praise was sure to follow wherever he went. Control was everything. Control over his life, over his future. He used to be so high on his own self aggrandizement that he belittled others for being below him. Recognizing his own flaws and growing from them is what actually makes him great. He had learned that through a lot of tough love, but he had never experienced the harsh actuality of life. There are some things he can’t control and he hates it.

Kirishima looks at him like he’s grown another head when he walks into the station, but honestly he doesn’t want to hear it right now.

“Yo, man you okay?”

“Yeah, fuck off.” He can confidently say he wasn’t, but talking about it right now is not something he cares to do. He’ll annoy his school therapist about this later. Not everyone knew students could use them for free with tuition, and if there was one positive thing from anger management, it was that unloading your bullshit onto a stranger with a confidentiality contract felt fucking awesome. 

Kirishima just gave Mina a worried look before he walked off. That’s why they made great friends. He always knew when to back off, but would push his buttons when the time came. 

The prospect of playing his normal set made his head pound for some reason, so he flipped through some easier tracks to prep before he went live. He eyed Sero who was outside the booth managing the equipment. 

“Elbow freak, is everyone hanging out tonight? I’m tryna mellow out.” 

That seems to catch him by surprise, which pisses Katsuki off for whatever reason. 

“Bakugo, uh, yeah I do, but it’s weird for you to ask. Normally we have to corner you to come smoke with us.” That’s very true. He doesn’t smoke as much as his friends, interferes with his workouts and all that, but they convince him to relax when he’s really pissed off.

“Bad day,” he shrugs. “Don’t wanna think.” Thinking gets him in trouble, but for some reason that’s all his brain is capable of doing. 

This job has its perks. He works with his friends, and he can be himself on the radio with few setbacks. All he really has to do is play his music and be interesting, but that feels like emotional labor he isn’t cut out for today. The complaints about his foul language have been up recently, and it’s the first time he’s ever let that affect him. Not that he's going to do anything about it. Uncertainty is a sentiment that does not bear well in the pit of his stomach. 

The on air light flashes red.

Sup’ it’s Ground Zero with 97.6. I don’t feel like fucking talking today so strap in for some longer tracks or whatever.” 

The next few hours seemed to drag on while he deadpanned and let the music calm him down. He must really be feeling out of it because he hardly even noticed when Kirishima motioned to his watch from across the glass wall. 

Oh, uh, thanks for listening to 97.6 FM, looks like we’re out of time today. Come back tomorrow for some fresh hits.

He cringed at his own monotone voice, and from the looks of it so did everyone else in the room. 

Kirishima gave him a manly pat on the arm, and while he would normally recoil at the display of affection, he let it slide because it’s Kirishima. 

“Bakubro! We don’t gotta talk about it, but Sero has a new strain that’ll make you see stars. You can only try it if you do it with us. Safely.”

“Shut up shitty hair I can do what I want. Are we heading to Denki’s?” 

The red head smiled in return. “Yeah. Carpool?”

As they passed by the front of the building, Mina stood up with her coat with a knowing smirk plastered on her face. “Hey Ground Zero... So a little birdie called in for you.”

“If it’s another complaint about my cursing, can it. Next time tell them I’ll shit on their grave.” 

She handed him a piece of paper as she approached them. “Actually, quite the opposite really. He sounded super cute and made it very  clear he likes you better when you’re being mean to your fans.”

That was a new one. The calls that weren’t inherently complaints normally had something to do with some stalker who found his Instagram and thought calling into the station would increase their chances to smash. That didn't happen very often, but when it did Mina was very quick to shut it down. 

He looked at the note that read: 

Just let him know I like listening to him and that I hope he feels better. It’s more like him when he’s berating us. -Deku

It was covered with little heart doodles in pink pen. The sentiment actually stuck with him a little. Who the fuck gets off on Katsuki being a dick? He would never admit it to anyone, but the note did make him feel better. Some stranger noticed he was feeling shitty and made an effort to say something about it. Most people when they say feel better they don’t mean go back to being a prick. Deku was fucking right though, and it sucks some loser stranger saw it before he did. Feeling sorry for himself won’t do him any good. 

The note still makes him embarrassed in front of his friends considering the circumstances. There was a small smile on his face, but he would kill her if she acknowledged it. “T-Thanks. Whatever, let's go smoke.”

Let this day end please.


The change in mindset did him a lot of good. His mom had called the next day to tell him she pissed off the nurses enough in the hospital that they discharged her early. She has to be doing alright if she’s still annoying and kicking. The smoke session with his friends was also a big help. He likes that they didn’t pry, and instead just let him get high and cook them dinner that wasn’t microwaved cheese quesadillas and hot sauce. Denki swears they’re good, but that’s why he’s also so fucking stupid. He doesn’t know how Jirou stands living with him. Acts of service is definitely his love language, he’ll admit. One of them at least.

Right now he felt light and floaty. All his anger and aggression left his body at the gym earlier under the pressure of his new deadlift record. He even texted his therapist and that went well.

Katsuki: My mom got into a fucking car wreck and almost died. I feel like a helpless whiny little baby. Fix me.

Therapist: Bakugou, you know that’s not how it works, right? Remember that it’s not about your lack of control, it’s about your anxiety. Change is not bad. Do you want to come in and make an appointment for this week?

Katsuki: I’d rather choke on a nature valley bar. It’s anxiety, got it. Thanks doc.

Today was going a lot better for him. Honestly, he was excited to go into work. That caller from the day before lit a flame in him. If he wants insults, he’ll give the little masochist insults. Mina seemed far too excited about the prospect for his liking. 

“Just because I gave y’all a break yesterday doesn’t mean you got rid of me just yet. I wasn’t on my game, but get your lame asses ready for some sick new beats today. Everyone can thank your golden star student Deku for callin’ into the station yesterday. He said I was going easy on y’all and he’s right. I’m gonna destroy your asses tonight, fuckwads. What kind of loser name is Deku by the way? Gotta check up on your favorite radio host to get him to yell at you properly? I appreciate the enthusiasm. Anyways I’m feeling extra mean today, here's Assholes by Hooligan Chase.”

The music felt good today, and he felt better than good now that his mental block was down and his mother wasn’t choking on hospital food. His dad's cooking wasn’t much better though.

Once it was time to head out again, Mina caught him by the door like yesterday. She always looks like she is up to no good. “Someone’s feeling better today.”

“Oh, shove it.”

She waves another note in front of his face. “Looks like you got a secret admirer. Don’t scare him off please I like this one. He’s been a longtime listener.”

“Hah, like I would scare him off. He’s the freak asking me to be meaner on the radio.”

“Seems like he’s got some daddy issues to work out, but then again who doesn’t.”

“Me actually.” His dad was a pushover, but he was cool when he got excited about dad things like the History Channel and... whatever else they get excited about. Old cars maybe? 

“Oh very funny. Save some happy childhood memories for the rest of us.” Her taunts have no steam to them when she rolls her eyes and smiles again. “If you really want to know, he said he hoped a good night's rest helped. Also that he doesn’t want to get yelled at, per-se. Whatever I wrote it down here.”

The note was much like yesterday’s. “And you’re giving me this, why?”

Her smirk was devilish. “Because I happen to have stalked him, and he’s the hottest little thing in the tristate area apart from me. Annnd I happen to know he would be a great new addition to our work life office affair because I’m bored and he can run circles around you.” 

The notion that some twerp could even crawl in a straight line anywhere near him is absurd, but the first part of what she said caught his attention. 

Katsuki is not bionic okay, he has eyes and working hypothalamus, but he’s picky as fuck and all his friends know this. He’s so picky it’s gotten him into some trouble in the past, and honestly his friends are the only people hot or decent enough to be in his life that he approves of. Absolutely no settling for less. So Mina even bothering to mention that made some lightbulbs flicker in his head, but ultimately he ignored it. 

His whole life has been decided by routine and cycles. His therapist did say change is good, so the addition to a little work fun might be beneficial. The gesture is flattering if he has to admit. Most of his DMs are a cesspool of horny men and women going on about his voice or his biceps. He doesn’t blame them exactly. He owns a mirror.

“Tch, whatever.” He snatches the note anyways to put it away with the first. Throwing them out seemed like a sin or something lame like that. It’s like throwing away fan mail, and he might be a dick but he’s got a soft spot for listeners who aren’t cringe. 

Mina is yelling at him as he’s heading out. “Are we still on for this weekend?”

“Yeah, yeah.”


When he works he doesn’t know what possesses him to mention the little stalker that calls in. It might be some combination of Mina’s knowing look when she gives him another note or when he reads them, they always sound sarcastic and sassy. Not many people have the balls to talk to him that way and it’s refreshing. 

He always did have a bit of a sadistic streak.

“Ive been pounding your asses into the ground with some TOKYO REVENGE so I’mma switch it up with something slow and intense. Maybe next time you call in Deku you might wanna make some fuckin’ requests? Who’s to say I’ll listen to you, but you’ve been barkin’ a lot of orders lately. Maybe I’m feelin’ nice.”

The calls haven’t stopped like he expected. Katsuki expects Deku to have gotten close with Mina and that’s the reason, but a part of him really starts to like the interactions. He hasn’t even spoken to him directly, but with the way Mina talks about him everyday she really likes the kid. Who’s apparently not a kid and the same age as him. And goes to college around here. And likes the same shitty comics as him. He knows too much about this literal stranger for him to not be fucking curious at this point. 

He doesn’t even know what hobbies his dad likes, so this is a new level of unusual for Katsuki.

Big, callused hands slam on the receptionist desk. “Who the fuck is Deku? You messin’ with me or something?”

Mina seems genuinely shocked. “I don’t actually know him in real life.” She frowns a little. “I wouldn’t mess with you like that. I might put tape on the bottom of your shoes, but Deku is a real guy.”

“You said Sero was the one who did that.”

“Bakugou, sweetie, that’s not the point. The point is, is that you have an actual human being genuinely into that brutish personality of yours.”
“I have a great personality.” He felt like being defensive even though he knew she was right about that. It’s not an insecurity of his anymore. He just came to accept he’s not everyone’s cup of tea and it’s practically natural selection of who can tolerate him at this point.

“I thought you were a genius.”

“I am. Tell me who he is. You know don’t you?” He can’t explain why he wants to know so much. Their conversations, even as weird as they are, are packed full of chemistry.

“I told him I wouldn’t reveal his identity. No can do.” 


“So Katsuki, I hear you have a new boo.” 

“Keep talking and you might lose your virginity with his fist up your ass, Denki.” Sero was always quick to jump on the virgin bandwagon. 

“You’re one to talk Mr. I took my cousin to prom.” Katsuki is honestly pretty positive Sero is one of the biggest chick magnets in the group so he finds the jab ironic. 

“Literally not fucking fair. It was her Quinceañera, and my mom made me.”

“Don’t try to confuse me. I don’t even know what a Quesodera is.” It’s sad because he said that with confidence.

“You took two years of Spanish and that’s not even a word, dumbass.”

Jirou sat down in their armchair circle with some snacks and a blanket. They liked doing this at her place because she had a cozy, closed in patio and string lights that gave the area a sort of ambiance at night that was best for playing music and relaxing. “Alright you two that’s enough. Mina was telling me about it actually. “ She popped open a bottle of root beer and looked dead at him. “Have you finally made new friends?”

Katsuki does not want to admit that he’s totally lost right now. He’s looking back and forth between his friends without a thought in his head. He really wishes he can blame it on the weed, but he’s only two hits in. He just knows he should be angry. 

Kirishima laughed from the spot next to him, his arm riding the back of the couch and hooked around Mina. He takes another hit before passing it over. “She told me about it too. Ya’ll have been talking for like a week haven’t you?”

Mina sunk back further into the couch. “If you consider it talking.”

Katsuki’s mind finally catches up with him at the realization they’re talking about Deku. His high brain finds itself hyper fixating on the dweeb considering he’d been asking about him earlier with no answers. He tries not to let it be known how interested in the conversation he really is.

“What is he like, some gross stalker fan? Probably sounds like a serial killer.” Denki is full of shitty hot takes tonight.

“I’ll have you know he sounds exactly what he looks like. Very not serial killery. Plus he’s a Taurus dude, most serial killers are Pisces.”

“You’ve seen him? Does he look like one of those TLC 90 Day Fiancé guys?”

“You have a weird imagination. I just did some sleuthing online.” She shrugged and smiled, “He’s really fucking cute, but don’t get any ideas I’m not showing you.” 

Katsuki snapped to attention at that. Despite her horrible taste in fashion, because seriously who willingly looks like they walked out of the Disney Channel movie Zenon, he trusted her taste in men. She had said he was hot once and routinely fucks Kirishima on the down low so obviously her opinion holds a lot of weight. 

“Will you guys shut the fuck up for once? No more talking about the dweeb.” He hardly ever smokes with them, this week and it’s events had made it the exception, so being the center of attention is not what he wanted. The blush on his cheeks had been washed out by the yellow lighting. 

“Easy for you to say when you’re just going to whisper your little love poems on air tomorrow.”

He threw an empty ashtray at Denki’s head in a fit of anger. If no one tells his anger management coach, then no harm no foul. He thinks it was justified. 


Because of his own persistence he decided to harass Mina into giving him absolutely anything on Deku. Bakugou Katsuki does not back down from what he wants. His mother knows that first hand from the time he pierced his own ear in the bathroom in middle school. The gay ear apparently, but it’s not like that stopped him from punching upperclassmen in the face. She was livid for days after. 

“You don’t gotta give me his name just his number, alright?” Out of frustration he puffed air through his nose. It had been another week of this, and normally he wouldn’t result to such lows, but he’s feeling almost desperate at this point. 

She looked up from her computer lined with color coordinated sticky notes and raised her eyebrows. “If I give you his number then he’ll stop calling into the show and then I’ll be down a friend with actual common sense.”

“First of all, fuck you.” He cringes after realizing insults are probably not the way to go about this. “Second of all, it’s not like you and the nerd won’t be friends. I just wanna talk to him.” Katsuki doesn’t think it’s fair that she gets to have actual conversations with Deku daily while he’s given the scraps. Considering they talk about him anyways.

Mina actually looks like she’s considering it for a second. “Alright, fine, but if he stops calling in to the show then I’m showing Denki and Sero a picture of your mom.”

That was a threat if he had ever heard one. His childhood trauma stems from his classmates wanting to bang his mom, and if there was one thing he made sure never to bring up around those two it was his fucking mom. A shiver ran down his spine.


He stared at the contact in his phone for a few hours debating on if it was even a good idea to do this. 

Katsuki was a dive face first kind of guy. He normally had good enough intuition about this type of shit, but right now he was drawing a major blank. Thinking about this situation for longer than a minute started to really piss him off. As much as he didn’t consider himself a celebrity or anything, he knows for a fact his show is pretty popular, and he’s got a semi cult following online full of a bunch of simps. As different as Deku seems to be, his interest in pursuing a friendship with the nerd walks the line of inappropriate. An obvious power dynamic makes for a lot of potential problems.

Self awareness is the first step to solving the problem at least. Katsuki recognizes this, and ultimately decides to give Deku all of the control despite his brain screaming at him. So when Katsuki finally does text Deku the next day he doesn’t expect for things to feel so easy. 

It’s like they’ve known each other for years with the way they bounce off of each other. It’s different than with his other friends. He’s a major introvert and texting is hard, so he takes the bakusquad in doses. They’re better friends for accepting that about him, and even though he refuses to open up or talk about anything ever, he gets a semblance of comfort knowing he can hang out once or twice a week to lose a few brain cells and then dip.

But with Deku he feels like the floodgates have been lifted, or better yet destroyed entirely. Everything from his trash grammar when texting to the way he forces Katsuki to actually offer up information about himself makes him feel weird. God, Deku’s smart ass mouth has made a few of his friends make jabs about him smirking at his phone a few too many times. 

He likes this. Barf.

What he doesn’t like is the way he practically dashes to the grocery store when he gets a picture of Deku’s shitty instant ramen just to learn how to make his favorite meal. Apparently the nerd lives off of iced coffee and microwaveable food and if that doesn’t scream ‘Katsuki please take care of me I’m actually useless’ then he doesn’t know what does. 

Also the way he starts to feel annoyed for the 4 hours Izuku is asleep in the morning because he refuses to wake up at a normal time. Katsuki spent a whole hour the other day attempting to convince him of the benefits of having a normal sleep schedule. If not for his own selfish gain, but whatever.

Katsuki: The gym is the most peaceful in the morning anyways. No one is there to oogle you.

Katsuki: Plus it feels better to get it out of the way.

Katsuki: Admit it I’m right.

Deku: seems a little redundant for me to go twice :/ i only work afternoons 

Deku: nice try tho ;) i’m not waking up at the crack of dawn

Katsuki: Are you a trainer or something?

He’s trying to imagine someone shredded and massive like Kirishima or himself, but laughs when he remembers the person who used to train Katsuki was a 6’7 160 pound corpse of a man.

Deku: i teach yoga!

Deku: i weight train outside of that but gotta stay flexible for party tricks

Katsuki: Party tricks?

Deku: yeah like the good old foot behind the head trick

Deku: gets em everytime 

While Katsuki’s brain short circuits he starts to really wish he hadn’t asked. His mind immediately went to try to imagine the trick, but it’s not the same with absolutely nothing to go off of.

The most he’s learned about Deku’s identity at this point is his real name, and as much as he wants to go at Izuku’s pace, it’s getting real hard when the man’s fursona is a fucking sloth. Actually, not that Katsuki has imagined it, but he thinks it would probably be a bunny. That’s just his guess.

It had been so long of them talking back and forth like this, he didn’t think it was too out of line to call him. From what he can gather about Deku, he is way too polite to make the first move, and despite the clap backs, Katsuki can tell he’s dealing with some major hidden insecurity. He phrases statements like questions enough to sound unsure and shys away from revealing too much at times. He’s confident with his real life, but the second Katsuki is involved it’s like Deku walks around with a big question mark over his head and only speaks in keyboard smash.

But respectfully fuck that, because Katsuki knows for a fact that Deku has been a long time listener and he’s way too fucking selfish to allow that idiot to hear his voice on the daily while Katsuki waits prettily in line. Honestly, fuck the line, and fuck Mina for telling him to listen to Denki’s show too. 

And when he pressed the call button and hears Deku’s voice for the first time it’s like the soft caress of an angel whispering in his ear. Or something aggressively gay like that, because holy shit he was not expecting him to sound like home. That’s not what he says of course. 

“You sound just like I thought you would.” Hot? An idiot? He thinks he finally understands the hype around voice kinks. 

When Katsuki heard the nickname Kaachan come out of his mouth he almost passed out. Nicknames were his thing, but fuck. It felt special so he’ll allow it.

The conversations prior always had an undertone of teasing and friendliness to them, but now he was just straight up flirting unabashedly. 

He liked Deku and the way his voice made him simultaneously wired and calm. The way he felt an indescribable amount of affection in their communication the past few weeks. These feelings exceeded the lustful haze and brief interest he had felt in the past. Katsuki genuinely wanted to get to know Deku. Like, hopes and fears and shit. Maybe they could hold hands and Katsuki could push him up against a wall or something. He’s got it so bad that he even thought about how sleeping together and waking up to a heavy weight in his arms only to fall back asleep again was worth it instead of getting up to pump iron by himself while the sun was still down.

The brief thought that he wouldn’t be physically attracted to Deku came as fast as it went. Katsuki hasn’t ever wanted to fuck a personality so bad in his life, and he trusts Mina’s opinion so it’s not something he gives a shit about.

This was a first.


Katsuki: Oh your ass is grass.

The little shit never knew when to back down to a challenge, and apparently his favorite challenges were making fun of Katsuki. 

Izuku: actually according to my gym it deserves the fattest ass award

Katsuki was staring down at his phone, completely unable to process anything around him. He can’t tell if it’s a joke, so he meets it with his own. 

Katsuki: Sorry dweeb but I’m gonna need proof of a title like that.

Katsuki: You know, for science. 

It’s not like he expects anything other than a jab about him not being a scientist. Katsuki was going to respond with his high school science fair award and that was going to be the end of it.

Except the only response back was a picture. Freckles everywhere. Down his thighs that were too big to allow the fabric of his shorts to stretch over so they rode up farther than necessary. All over the peak of mid drift that teased above his wasteband. The fabric of those shorts were threatening to burst from the seams in the pose, and my god, were those his favorite colors? This was an ass pic if Katsuki ever did see one. He was deliciously thick. Absolutely no skipping leg day. 

He was staring too long and forgot to respond. How much enthusiasm is allowed at this point, because there hasn’t been any communication about FeelingsTM yet, and Katsuki is fairly certain asking Deku to sit on his face is a no-go. 

If only he could see the rest of him and finally put a face to his emotional support sexual fantasies, but the picture cut off right at his shoulders. Katsuki is going to go feral.

Katsuki: Fuck

Katsuki: Science might have to agree with you on that one, Freckles.


They had serious conversations too. Katsuki would rather eat a bowl of nails for breakfast than talk about insecurities outside of his therapist, but with Deku it always came out of left field.

“I just think that if you’re going to play anything by Get Scared on a Thursday afternoon then I have every right to question your well being.” 

“I like the nihilism, you got a problem with it?” 

“No, I like them too! Have you considered I’m just asking you how you’re doing?”

“Have you considered you talk a lot?” The snicker in his voice was evident.

“Yeah, I’m always afraid of being annoying.” Well that was abrupt. Deku said that so casually that it had caught him by surprise.

“You aren’t. Annoying that is.”

Deku laughed on the other end. “I was poking fun at you but, but I appreciate it. I used to get bullied pretty ruthlessly as a kid actually. It really messed me up, but can I confess something to you? You’re gonna think it’s lame.” Everything about what he just said made his stomach drop. Fuck, he used to be the type of guy to do that shit, and it gave him an indescribable amount of guilt. Deku was like a literal ball of sunshine and Katsuki wanted to give him everything.

“I won’t.”

“You were the reason I started to get so confident. I found your station and would listen to you and feel so good about myself that I started getting out of my comfort zone. I think I owe you royalties or something.”

Katsuki isn’t sure what he was feeling at this moment, nor was he sure about how the fuck to respond. Was it pride that he was the one to elicit such a change in this literal angel? Or shame that he wasn’t always this great person?

He was taking so long to respond and the silence was louder than anything. “I know I’m pretty great, but that hasn’t always been the case you know.”

There was a hum on the other end to let him know to continue.

“I used to be one of those people to beat this shit out of nerds because I thought they thought they were better than me.”

There was more silence.

“I... Was a fucked up little kid, and I regret it, but it took me years to realize that just because I regret something it doesn’t mean things are all good. Ah, fuck, I’m not good at this, I guess what I’m saying is I figure you of all people should know that about me. Or whatever.” He was so fucking nervous to say this shit out loud. He’s moved on from it himself, but being under the scrutiny of Deku felt like he was back at the beginning.

“You sound like you’re auditioning for the role of Joker.” He’s laughing, genuinely fucking laughing at him. "We do live in a society."

“This isn’t fucking funny, Deku, I was being honest with you!” All of that anxiety melted off of him in an instant, and Katsuki feels like he’s getting pulled deeper into Deku’s trap.

“And I’m being honest with you. We all have pasts we aren’t proud of. It’s not my apology to accept or anything, but I like this version of you now.” Katsuki was smiling again, soft and genuine. “Plus I think I figured that out subconsciously.” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” They were both laughing at this point, high on each other’s vulnerability.

Katsuki really likes this idiot.


He’s got it so bad he told his mom about Deku. She’s doing way better after the accident minus some back and shoulder pain. When he made the drive to go visit her, she sucker punched him in the stomach for worrying and then teared up after a hug.

They were up late talking way past the time he usually stayed up. As a kid he would fight tooth and nail to have to sit in the same room with her for long periods of time, too proud to admit he enjoyed her company. Now they can sit at his childhood dinner table drinking a beer late into the night. He remembers how he used to be the worst kid and praises his mother for putting up with him.

“You look different.”

Katsuki smirked and took another swig of his Angry Orchard. “My biceps really look that much bigger to you?”

“No you tool.” She takes a moment to really look at him. “You look happier.”

“Fuck you.” He can’t say anything because he knows she’s right. His brain is still riding the wave of serotonin from that lame ass meme Deku sent him earlier. The one with the goat on the side of the mountain eating salt deposits. It wasn't even funny.

“Who managed to tame my beast of a son? I need to know who to send Christmas cards to.”

He reclined back into his chair with his legs spread and an arm hooking the back. Telling her screams familial bullying, but he’s kinda needing advice at this point and figures he can chalk it up to being nice because she’s practically broken in three places. 

“This dweeb started calling into the show and we started to be friends. Won’t tell me who he is, and I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s getting frustrating.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Have you asked him?”


No, actually he hasn’t outright asked him. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and with the way she’s heaving in her seat he can tell it’s a pretty stupid face he’s making. “I’m glad I raised you right to not press boundaries, but I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to not even communicate them.”

His face is hot with embarrassment. “YEAH KEEP LAUGHING. Whatever, he’s just different and I don’t want to fuck it up.” Guess he’s riding the vulnerability train tonight. He’d rather it hit him instead.

She looks sad almost when he says that, and it’s one of those rare moments that she’s completely serious and open with him. It kind of makes him uncomfortable. “You weren’t the nicest kid, you know. I remember getting calls from parents when you would torment the neighborhood boys.” She finally looks him in the eyes again. “You’re not the same person as you were back then. Trust yourself a little and take what you want. If he bites back then invite him over for dinner.”

He was laying in his childhood bed now completely overthinking what she said. It’s way past his fucking bed time, but tonight he can’t seem to turn his brain off.

Katsuki always says he only gets the best of everything, but after his sketchy past, he’s afraid he doesn’t actually deserve the best. He was a twerp that didn’t understand how to take criticism or help from others. Too high on the pedestal he made for himself that when he was knocked off of it in high school he broke every bone in his body. He was the best, but surrounded by others who were just as good and it hit him that there was some level of mediocrity in his frail body. He was a dick with morals and a superiority complex, however the hell that mixed together, and with blood dripping down his fist and his friends looking at him like he was the problem, he knew.

Introspection was a pretty neat thing and now that Katsuki fought his own manifestation of toxic masculinity, he realized, albeit late, that therapy and communication is very sexy. He didn’t need to change himself completely, he could still drink his narcissism juice, but only in those small kid containers instead of downing it by the gallon. 

This has always been his own journey to follow. His friends saw it all and welcomed him the whole way even when Katsuki did everything in his power to tell them to fuck off, but he’s never had something feel so intimate before. He’s constantly fighting the urge to meet Deku and do gay, domestic shit like sit in the same room while listing to a playlist he made for him specifically or woo him with his superior cooking skills while Deku watched from his kitchen island bar stools. The impulse to push away absolutely anyone who tries to care about him is there, but this time he’s going to ignore it. Things would be different this time. 

They had talked about this. Deku had accepted that part of him, and yet his brain won’t shut the fuck up. Maybe it’s due to the fact that they haven’t met in person before? That’s becoming such a barrier because what if Deku doesn’t want to meet him? Katsuki’s never been rejected in his life, and he’d be damned to start here. He’s never backed down from a challenge before either, so he’s determined to impress the idiot. 

They haven’t talked on the phone in a few days. Katsuki is dying to listen to his voice again. The way his voice cracks when he’s defending his own shitty jokes or the way he gets all stuttery when Katsuki makes one to many sexual innuendos. He’s dying to know what he would look like, freckles dusting his cheeks stained red, nervous when Katsuki would inevitably force their eyes to meet. What color would they be? 

He knows Deku feels it too. He’s not lacking the social cues to not see the nerds attraction in blinking neon lights. 

The urge to hear it come from his own mouth gets too strong and he calls him without even looking at the time. 

“Hey?” Deku was sleeping and it was evident in the way his voice slurred on the line.

“I wanna see you.”

Fuck. All the cards are on the table. 


Okay. Okay? What the fuck he wasn’t expecting an answer. This doesn’t feel real, and he’s suddenly able to feel the blood pumping through his whole body.

“Kaachan? Where are you?”

He’s so fucking stupid because he’s at least two hours away and he just looked at his own clock and it’s 2 in the morning and he’s an actual idiot. Deku wants to meet him and he’s fucking stupid.

“Fuck, uh, I’m at my parents out of town. I didn’t expect this.”

Deku laughs nervously. “You asked me.”

“Yeah, I know. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.” What happened to his damn filter? 

He hears a breath being sucked in on the other line. “Y-yeah. Me too... Do you know what time it is?”

“I couldn’t sleep. It’s your fault you know.” He was feeling defensive right now, but couldn’t place why. It’s all Deku’s fault for living rent free in his head and making him dredge up old memories.

A hum and some rustling on the other end could be heard. “Sorry, Kaachan. I’ll try to be less interesting for the sake of your precious sleep schedule.”

“I’m going to smoke your ass for that.”

“Thinking about my ass?”  This was a new development. Deku has never been so bold on the phone before, not that Katsuki was complaining.

“Well I am now.” He really was. It’s hard not to when there’s picture proof of his thick thighs saved in his phone.

“And here I thought you liked me for my dazzling personality.” He likes him especially for his dazzling personality. The sarcasm wasn’t needed.

“It’s alright.” Before he starts thinking about Deku and his ass, he figures he should take advice from his mother and do that communicating thing. “I do like you though.”

There was a loud crash on the other end that startled him. Just as Katsuki was about to freak out, he heard a small squawk in his ear. “Wait this isn’t some one sided school boy crush?”

Can't be a schoolboy crush when they’re both very much adults. Katsuki is suddenly very happy he stayed up tonight, because now that they got this whole feelings thing out of the way he doesn’t have to hold back. “No, loser. I wanna make you mine.” Despite the initial bluntness, he rethinks the delivery a little. “Uh, with your consent.” Why does he have to sound so fucking lame right now?

He doesn’t expect Deku to hold the same energy and almost chokes when he responds with, “You don’t seem to understand I would literally do anything you want me to.” 

That was not the response he expected, and if Katsuki is being honest, it fills his head with shit he was trying to block out at the moment. “You really are a masochist, aren’t you?”

“For you I am.” Oh he was going to break him, take him apart piece by piece and put him back together again. 

“God, I wanna ruin you for anyone else.” He felt his body buzzing from the feeling of finally having him like this. 

“I think you already have.” Deku whines over the phone, and it takes everything in Katsuki to not make the drive back into the city to track him down and devour him. “W-when do you get back? You know, for science.”

Katsuki felt a feral grin stretch across his face. Using his own lines against him? “Wednesday. I’ll come back Wednesday and after the show I’m gonna pick you up in my car, take you to the grocery store so you can’t run away from me, cook you a nice dinner that’s not full of your shitty msgs, and then make out with you on my couch while we watch All Might’s winter special.  Sound good?” 

He’s actually taken off work to come out here to see his parents and make sure she put him in the will before she kicked the bucket, and he’s really starting to regret that decision because all he wants to do is go back and see Deku. He has the patients of a king. He’ll wait.

“You’re really embarrassing you know that.” It sounded like Izuku’s face was squished into his pillow due to how muffled he was. Katsuki would give anything to see that right now. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes, idiot.”

He can’t wait.


Turns out he really couldn’t wait because he was driving back to town Tuesday, burning more rubber than Vin Diesel. 

His friends laughed at him when he told them that he almost flipped off a cop car for break checking him. As for Deku, Katsuki decided to keep it a surprise. Mentally he had to prepare, and what better way to prepare than to meet up with all of your friends to catch up with all the work you missed so you’re completely and utterly free for your date on Wednesday? It was definitely a date, Katsuki made sure to be aggressive about categorizing it as such. 

Mina and Jirou couldn’t come because the both had an early morning lab, so it was only the boys  with him at the moment. They all decided to pile into the local coffee shop to study instead of their normal location because unfortunately if you put Denki and Sero in a slightly well ventilated area with no civilians they’ll inevitably find a way to go brain dead or fuck around. 

He’s been here a few times because their americanos are strong as hell and he likes the notes of cayenne in their house coffee. It wasn’t busy in the middle of the afternoon, only one person ordering in front of them. They seemed to be having a pretty serious conversation with the two toned barista, but they were too quiet to hear. Especially with Sero screaming in his ear about their work problems.

“I swear Bakugou, tell that weirdo to fuck off on air already. Mina won’t stop complaining to me in class about being harassed. “

Denki chimed in behind him, “That's not gonna work, his whole fan base likes him to scream at them. If they’re so persistent calling everyday, the station has a policy on perma banning people.”

Katsuki felt his head pulse in annoyance. Once Deku started calling into the station, there had been quite a few other people following suit. The difference between the dweeb and everyone else was that they didn’t practically beg and harass Mina to get to the hosts. It wasn’t just for Katsuki either, and the others were annoyed they didn’t get someone dorky and soft spoken as their number one fan like he did. 

Their talks had sparked a tenacity in these people that no one expected. Everyone wanted to hop on their dicks and be like Deku. They wanted daily shout outs like he got. It was getting to be a problem. There was one person in particular that was stepping over the line and had Mina a little freaked out for her safety. 

“Listen Dunceface, I’ve already decided to address it. These losers calling into Yueei have another thing coming for them if they think they can act however they want. Fuck, I wish we didn’t even have it as an option.” Which is mostly the truth, be that if it wasn’t an option, then he would have never met Deku. 

He was distracted from ordering when a customer bumped into him on their rush out the door. Normally he’d speak some profanities, but nothing could genuinely ruin his mood now that he was finally, finally going to see Deku. 

Once they were situated, Kirishima put his arm over his shoulder. “ So when did you say you were going to meet up with our favorite caller? You’re gonna introduce him to us right? Right?”

“No fucking way. I don’t want you guys to scare him off with your dumbass pranks.” He was partially serious, but he needed to bring Deku around at some point because Mina will bury him 6 feet under if he doesn’t. “I’m picking him up after work tomorrow.” 

Denki raised his eyebrows and motioned his finger slowly out of the hole he made with his other hand. “Are you gonna, you know?” 

Katsuki shoved his hand in Denki’s face hard enough to make an obscene noise that had the rest of the patrons looking their way. “Next time you take one of your little princess baths I’m going to drop a toaster in and watch you shrivel away.”

Does he want to forego dinner to eat him as his next meal? Of course, but he’s going to be polite and make him beg for it first. Speaking about fucking Deku, Katsuki checked his phone only to receive nothing back from him. 

Deku had been non stop texting him like an over excited child talking about their favorite color ever since they made plans to meet up. He could tell the other was nervous in a good way. Katsuki can’t blame him, he’d been feeling the exact same way. It was odd to not receive anything back after so long though. 

Katsuki: Loser pay attention to me. I wanna tell you something.

He didn’t care how blatantly childish that was. Katsuki knows what he wants, and what he wants is to tell him about this cool coffee place that he's definitely going to take him to. 

And after hours of studying with his friends and heading to the station to have a talk with his boss, there was still no response. 

He passed by Mina on his way over. “Yo, have you heard from the nerd?”

He noticed a little late at how worried her expression was. “I got a weird message from him earlier, but I was going to ask you about it.”

She showed him her phone and his stomach dropped when he read it. 

Izuku: Sorry for causing trouble. I know you’re too kind to say anything. I won’t be calling in anymore.

His Deku didn’t speak like that. Since when did that idiot learn how to capitalize his sentences? As fast as his hand could move, Katsuki called him. 

No answer. 

So he called again. And again. And again. 

Until white noise started reverberating in his head and his face was on board to be permanently stuck in an angry expression. 

What the fuck. 

His phone vibrated once.

Deku: I know you’re going to tell me to fuck off on air. I don’t really want to be lied to again I’m sorry. Thanks for humoring me for so long Katsuki. 

There was so much going wrong with this text message that he didn’t know how to react. His throat started to taste like acid at the word Katsuki. He was Kaachan, not Katsuki.

Why does “I know you’re going to tell me to fuck off on air” sound so familiar? Fuck that’s exactly what Sero had said to him earlier at the coffee shop, and the sheer realization that, holy shit, Deku had been there. He had heard them talking and wouldn’t use his small little brain to recognize that they weren’t talking about him. 

Katsuki bitterly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. What did he looked like and why he had he missed him? His memory is so hazy because normally he did not give a fuck about the world around him. He zeroed in on what was important, but fuck if Deku wasn’t important, and he cursed his inability to be astute in public. 

When he finally texted Deku back his message had never fully gone through. The fucker blocked him, and from the way Mina had looked at him with wetness in her eyes, he had blocked her too. 

As frustrating as it was he still had to drive home while his whole body felt like led. It felt like the first day he got the note from Mina, gloomy and exhausting. He could hardly say a word to anyone without growling out his sentence, and the worried faces from his friends only managed to piss him off more.

He needed to talk to him, explain to him how stupid this whole thing was. They weren’t talking about him. Everything would just be fixed if he could speak to him one more time. 

Mina had offered to give Katsuki his social media, but her hopeful smile dropped when she realized Deku’s accounts had been deactivated. 

Katsuki was about three seconds away from feeling an angry wetness roll down his face. 

He had gone to sleep that night feeling like everything around him was crumbling down.


Chapter Text

Izuku felt like he was drowning in his own tears. It was borderline pathetic the way his chest heaved softly in the darkness of his own room. He’s positive if his breakdown continues the way it has been he’ll have to find another Noah to build an arc or else everything in his path will go under. 


The last time he felt so utterly betrayed was a few years ago fresh into his undergrad. He was hopeful for any new start that was given to him. He wanted things to be different from high school, and perhaps he was too naive and gullible of a person to recognize anything other than the best of people, but he truly believed things would be. 


He was still a kid back then, practically infantile to how relationships and feelings worked, and in retrospect he recognizes how things went so wrong. He grew up believing he was plain and invisible, so when the cute boy in his Psych 101 class gave him a second glance, he easily mistook those butterflies in his stomach for want instead of socially awkward nerves.


Izuku looked at that boy like he hung the fucking moon. He’s sure if someone told him he did he would believe them too because who would lie about that? That’s what he had always believed. Who would lie when they could very easily just tell him the truth? 


Things would always be easier if people just told the truth. He knows he’s a reasonable person after all, and anger isn’t exactly a response he’s known to enact. 


Izuku thinks about how soft touches and sweet filth would churn his gut in a way that he believed to be desirable. How eyes would rake his body from head to toe in the comfort of their dorms but never out in the open. How it made him feel wanted, even if it was in secret. That’s all he seemed to really crave in the end. To feel wanted. 


If he wasn’t wanted then he could have very easily flipped a switch. Izuku is not a mind reader, in fact he needs very explicit open communication to function like a normal human. It’s the only way he can write out his thoughts and psychoanalyze the situation in order to quell his overbearing anxieties. It makes him feel logical that way. 


He just assumes that the people who he is supposed to trust the most in the world are honest with what comes out of their mouth. It’s very obvious to Izuku now that most people tend to shit where they eat. 


“You’re so cute ‘Zuku I can’t believe I have you.”


It would have been so much easier to say, “Hey, you’re kinda hot, but commitment kind of makes me want to jump off a bridge, so maybe we should just be friends with benefits because you and I both know I’m too much of a selfish prick to not try to fuck you after.”


It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much. Hell, even a “I just don’t like you anymore” would have been way sexier in the long run. Izuku would have preferred the harsh reality to whatever the fuck that was. They gave him the wrong Matrix pill at birth and it shattered his trust in men forever. Unrequited feelings are not a turn on. 


The tears after that incident had a lot more to do with the fact that Izuku had to admit to himself that he’s practically 5 years behind in relationship experience, because unfortunately while his classmates were experiencing the highs and lows of high school football, Izuku managed to make friends with the least horny of the band kids. As if watching Mean Girls will prepare a young man for the future.  


And it’s all thanks to the fact that he didn’t take the plunge and utterly embarrass himself by being passed around the percussion kids in the supply closet after practice that he blames his current naivety. 


Freshman year of college was a $12,000 lesson to not date men under 5’8 that have too many monitors and a light up keyboard. They all like lying and cheating in the end. Unlike Izuku who is 5’8 with only one monitor and a standard, boring keyboard. Izuku assumes that his senior year of college is another $12,000 lesson to not yearn for aggressive balls of testosterone through the car radio. He thinks it wasn’t worth the money. A refund please.


Unfortunately this time around things were different. Katsuki wasn’t some random guy he got to know in some class he didn’t care about. Katsuki was proactive in his attempts to talk to Izuku. Things were never forced. Things always felt genuine. Katsuki was always genuine.


He was sure he mulled it over enough in his brain over the year plus he’s been listening to the man. He never said anything he didn’t mean, always blunt and quick with his wit. Izuku liked that about him, and despite the abrasive attitude he found he craved that honesty. At one point he would have been sure he was going to need to be admitted for practically swooning at the filth that left his mouth, all too similar to the things people who antagonized him for years had said. The difference was so clear to Izuku though. 


While the high school quarterback would corner him in the locker rooms with his friends in some weird, totally not gay at all, intimidation tactic that felt more he was some type of prey for a sexually repressed group of teenagers with a masculinity complex, Katsuki would totally bypass all of the shame of wanting to fuck a dude and just like do it. He would probably be called a whore either way, but at least when Katsuki would do it, it would be sexy and come with 100 percent less trauma. 


That’s why when he heard the all too familiar gruff voice behind him he felt his heart sink straight to his stomach.


“I swear Bakugou, tell that weirdo to fuck off on air already. Mina won’t stop complaining to me in class about being harassed. “


Mina. He knows Mina. 


“That's not gonna work, his whole fan base likes him to scream at them. If they’re so persistent calling everyday, the station has a policy on perma banning people.”


The station?


He recognizes that voice. It sounds far too similar to the host he likes to tune into some mornings when he needs the extra pick me up. He was never a morning person, but something about the electric personality shocked him into being one when he needed to be. Right now Izuku feels like he’s flatlining instead. 


He didn’t know a Bakugo, but with how close the group had been behind him, he couldn’t help but lean into the nasty habit of eavesdropping. The topic of conversation hit too close to home, but also gossip is a guilty pleasure of his he’ll never be able to shake. Love Island UK is just too good. 


Until now.


“Listen Dunceface, I’ve already decided to address it. These losers calling into Yueei have another thing coming for them if they think they can act however they want. Fuck, I wish we didn’t even have it as an option.”




No, no, no, no-


This can’t be happening. Things were going so well.


The wave of shame and embarrassment that came next hit him immediately. He knew that voice, sweet and viscous like molasses. It held a tinge of annoyance to it that Izuku was used to after months of exposure, but in that moment everything was different. 


Things were too specific to not be the people who he thought they were. Izuku’s situation was far too unique and he knows it. Not every young adult with a thing for professional douchebags contact radio hosts near constantly to vie for their affection. Looking back on it, he knows it’s creep behavior.


The conversation he was having with Todoroki was long forgotten, his mind managing to overthink and not function at the same time. He didn’t want to believe he was the one they were talking about. He didn’t want to believe Bakugou felt the way he did about the calls, the late night texts. 


He didn’t want to believe people are liars, but that’s a lesson he learned the hard way once before. 


He needed to leave and he needed to leave now if he was to not start ugly crying on the coffee shop floor. It was tempting, but Todoroki definitely doesn’t get paid enough to deal with the storm he has coming. Izuku thought he had the strength enough to not look at the group as he passed by in a hurry, but as it turns out he’s just as weak as he’s always been. 


Despite the aggressively horny behavior he pulled around Katsuki, he thrived on the mystery of his appearance. He knew they were on equal footing and he could continue to hide behind the safety of the camera if Katsuki also stayed faceless, that’s why he never asked nor did he intend to until they met. 


But, fuck, he wishes he never looked up. As much as he’d like to blame the distorted vision on his water sign placement, he knows it’s not true. Katsuki is, fuck, Katsuki is one of the most breathtaking people he had ever laid eyes on. 


He’s big, so much bigger than he anticipated, and Izuku is certain that if he ran up into his arms like he wants to right now he would be swallowed up whole. He’s all biceps and thick legs and Izuku is swimming in his own sick fantasies hitting him at one of the most emotionally inappropriate times. Izuku can’t see his face well through stinging tears, but it looks sharp and piercing and his hands are thick like everything else about him and - 


He has to leave now. 


Todoroki texted him shortly after he rushed through the door like a man on a mission, but checking his phone is the last thing he wants to do at this very moment. In fact he would very much like to crawl in a hole and die.


Todoroki, bless his heart, is a very good friend and someone Izuku would jump in front of a bullet for, but he’s not the comforting type. More like the awkward head pats and “there there's" while he’d be a freckled mess collapsed arms length in front of him. If there was one person more emotionally constipated than Katsuki, it was Todoroki.


So he goes to the only person he knows he can  unintelligibly spill his guts out to, Ochako. 


Thankfully she’s just as unhinged if not more than he is in times of emotional distress, so she knows him the best. 


“So you’re telling me you’ve been anonymously talking to some guy for a few months and you didn’t tell me?” She sounds like she’s in disbelief that he could not tell her something more than anything. 


Izuku’s ears burn red as he tries to cover his face. His head is in her lap, soft and comforting, but he knows any wrong move and she can crush it like a grape. “In my defense it was embarrassing.”


“Sounds like simp behavior to me.” Low blow, but fair.


“Very funny. Maybe a little, but he was cool and I thought he was different. I didn’t really expect him to talk to me back. I guess he didn’t really want to, but at the time it was nice. I thought if I told anyone that it would be creepier and ruin what we had.”


“Izuku, my love, have you considered you’re just oblivious and kinda dumb sometimes?” She was stroking his hair thoughtfully despite the jab. Despite knowing that she's very right most of the time, women’s intuition and all that, right now his mind is all jumbled and he refuses to accept common sense. 


She continues anyway, “I mean, you block him immediately after you hear them talking? I would assume you’d at least try to talk to him about it first to save you from being a hypocrite and all. There are no thoughts behind those pretty eyes are there?” Soft hands grip his face and force his head to look at her. Green eyes, still stinging from their previous overuse, meet the stern warmth of her gaze. The overwhelming urge to stare at anything else but her hits him.


“You said it yourself last time. I gave that jerk too many opportunities to lie to me... I just didn’t want the same thing to happen with Kaachan...” For someone who preaches open communication, he sure is a coward about it right now. 


“You’re over compensating and twisting my words. I never liked that freak, but it seems to me you just don’t want to see yourself be happy. Try not self sabotaging things before they even happen.”


Being happy isn’t too much of a stretch. He’s been happy for a while now, comforted by the tension constantly being tested every time one of them teased a little too much. Thinking back, he can trace his happiness to when he found Ground Zero, previously just allowing the world to move around him. His proactive nature and confidence bloomed one day when he was reclined back in his Civic, window down to feel the humidity the afternoon held. Ground Zero’s voice vibrated against the bass of his car. 


“You assholes always write on the discussion page on Facebook that I fucking cuss too much, and to that I say go fuck yourself. You’re fucking delusional if you think I do anything for anyone else. I’ll have you know bitches love me. Fuck you Shitty Hair I see you laughing back there. You know you’re a part of that demographic.”


He’s always so unapologetically himself. Izuku looked at him like a hero. 


He hates how much sense she makes all the time, but unfortunately for her he’s not done being sad, so he’s elected to ignore her for the foreseeable future. Instead of arguing though, he smiles up at her. “I don’t pay you to psychoanalyze me.”


“You don’t pay me at all.”




The talk with Ochako went well, but it doesn’t quite stop him from wallowing in self pity for longer than necessary. He found himself craving the blonde more than anything. Katsuki was always the person he went to when he was mildly inconvenienced, both of them content with spilling silly little details about their lives to one another.  Izuku’s heart being shattered into a million pieces felt more than a minor inconvenience, but that’s only more of a reason to want to throw himself in a call with Katsuki and cry and mumble until the other gets irritated enough to tell him to- shut the fuck up nerd, just talk slower. 


Now that Izuku has a face to match the voice, he feels like he’s floating, completely numb to what to do. The condescending chuckles on the other line came from someone handsome and intimidating and perfect. Now it’s not hard to imagine large, rough hands holding his own.


Just as everything has always come full circle he’s moping pitifully in his car the next day like he did the first time he heard Katsuki, water bottle half downed in an attempt to rehydrate himself. The tears left his face red and puffy and he was clutching his limited edition All Might hydro flask like it’s the only thing that will save him from shriveling like a snail. Personally he feels like Katsuki is the gremlin little kid sadistically pouring salt on him in 90 degree heat.


As any true masochist would Izuku instinctively tunes into the radio in one last attempt to get the boy out of his head. He thinks it’s more like a form of torture to fuel his self deprecating haze and allow the sinking feeling in his stomach to settle even more. He wants the throbbing in his face to be justified and to hear Katsuki mercilessly, metaphorically shove his face in the dirt in front of tens of thousands of people. Perhaps he really does have problems he needs to work out later. 


Maybe he should start paying Ochako?


He was fidgeting with the lid of the bottle in an attempt to calm his nerves when he heard his voice again. It came as such a shock he spilled  a quarter of the water all over his lap and onto his phone. 


Fuck, his phone. 


“Welcome back to 97.6 FM losers. It’s Ground Zero after a long break ready to reintroduce you to good music...”


Izuku was so distracted by the slowness of his speech and the raspiness of his voice that he barely noticed the way his phone was self-destructing in his hand. 


It took a moment to realize that Katsuki sounded like he had been crying. Izuku’s original analysis of him had been that Katsuki doesn’t get sad, which he found was mostly true. Katsuki just expressed his sadness in other ways, but this, this raw, vulnerable emotion was a rarity. It’s reminiscent of the first time he had called into the station. What a ridiculous notion because that would imply that there was hope for him.


“I’m gonna start ya'll off with something slow today.” 


The pause on the radio was painfully long before a rough sigh could be heard. 


“Actually, fuck, uh. I don’t normally do this, personal shit and all, but I don’t have any other way to fucking contact you because you’re a prick and blocked me, but Deku.... If you’re listening... You’re really fucking stupid.” 


He’s not entirely sure what to make of this so far. “Is Kaachan sad or.... does he want to punch me in the face?” Both would be viable options, but Izuku is just trying to cope with what’s happening.


“Ugh, yeah actually fuck you, because that was you in the coffee shop right?” The statement seemed to release the floodgates and he had finally found his train of thought. “If you hadn’t ran away and blocked me I could be confessing my fucking love or whatever to you right now and we could be fucking on my couch binging all of the James Bond movies, but instead you managed to eavesdrop our conversation without letting me explain. 


Seems like your nerdy ass is a trend setter and now everyone is callin in the station for a piece of this, which everyone else needs to fuck off by the way I’m not fucking interested unless you’re Deku. You weren’t... It wasn’t about you, and I’m... Fuck, I’m sorry.”


If you told Izuku he had kicked a puppy he would believe you. Mind you a rabid puppy, but now that his stomach had been sinking far longer than the titanic he’s surprised it’s for reasons that won’t smash his confidence into a million pieces and leave him with a detrimental amount of trust issues. 


He had been so stupid and wait, holy shit did Katsuki actually say he loved him? Between the love confession and burning embarrassment from literally everything else that came out of his mouth live on air, tears started bubbling over for another reason. 


God he’s so stupid and warm and in love with Kaachan that he can’t think of anything else except texting him and telling him he’s sorry for everything and then probably meeting him in person and dropping to his knees to grovel at his feet.


Anything else that comes out of his mouth is mute to Izuku’s ears because currently he’s fumbling his phone in a desperate attempt to turn it on and text Kaachan that everything is going to be okay and that he’s actually in love with him too, but the only screen that will show on his phone is black and void like his emo little heart and oh my god this is karma for being dumb. 


He thinks he has rice at home to dump his phone into to save until he realizes that he literally never cooks real meals and the only good nutritional thing he was going to put in his mouth was whatever the hell Kaachan had planned for their date and probably his dick if they got that far and suddenly he’s sad again. 


It isn’t until he’s made the trip to three separate phone repair shops that he realizes Kaachan was right and iPhones are the actual worst and it’s all thanks to his idiotic need for blue texts that’s keeping them apart. What kind of business is closed on a Thursday at 7:30 PM anyway? Izuku feels exhausted and defeated by the time he drives home because  the events of the past few days have been so emotionally extreme that all he wants to do is pass out and rush to talk to Kaachan tomorrow. 


In all of his hap hazardous panicking he managed to miss the later half of Kaachan’s show. He wishes he could talk to him again, but he also wishes he could have melted at the sound of his voice while he was driving fast and furious across town. Not everyone had the multitasking abilities of Vin Diesel unfortunately.


His limbs felt heavy while he trudged up to the stairs of his apartment and for once time stood still. 






Katsuki is a wreck. Like he’s resulted in laying on the floor of his apartment listening to fucking Neck Deep type of wreck. Like he’s some 13 year old girl with scene hair and too many studded belts crying over some love song type of fucking wreck. He only owns two studded belts, and he doesn’t wear them at the same time and he hasn’t listened to Neck Deep since his dog died when he was a preteen. 


He opted to not text his therapist about his shitty problems to instead wallow.


He doesn’t know where everything went wrong, but he’s sulked and sulked for such a long time his head feels like it’s bursting at the seems and he really, really doesn’t want to go to fucking work right now. 


He feels desperate to explain himself, to reach out, and it’s such a foreign feeling to him because he’s Bakugo Katsuki. He doesn’t explain anything he does to anyone ever, but fuck if Deku hasn’t turned his life upside down in the best of ways. 


Any other person and he’d just say fuck it. Nothing is worth this shitty headache, but for some reason his cognitive brain that normally works pretty well at compartmentalizing emotions from logic thinks that actually Deku is worth it and he’s not even mad about it. 


He hates his lack of attentiveness towards anyone that isn’t in his close circle, because then maybe he could remember the blur of green at the counter talking to what’s his name with the half and half hair. Missed such a precious opportunity to see the man that plagued his every waking moment. 


His friends seem to pick up on his mood immediately upon entering work and he notices the way they all itch to reach out and just say something. They know him well enough to stay back until he comes to them. He refuses to accept how similar he is to a stray dog. In the past, the faint whispers about his attitude would have made him  explode in anger, but he’s not the same guy he was back then. 


Sero is the only one with enough of a death wish to approach him tentatively. He was doing some wire management, taping the underside of the desk when he saw Katsuki enter the booth.


“Yo, dude are you okay to work? You look like shit.”


Katsuki didn’t have the energy to glare at him, something that has never happened in his life. “I got it Sero, just make sure that light comes on and do your job.” 


He didn’t miss the way Sero looked at Kirishima incredulously across the room. He wanted to bite back, tell them they’re being ridiculous and that he can take care of himself, but if he’s being honest, he can’t think about anything other than Deku right now.


God, his head was killing him, the throbbing under his brows only increasing when the on air light flashed. 


“Welcome back to 97.6 FM losers. It’s Ground Zero after a long break ready to reintroduce you to good music...”


He’s pathetic and tired and aching to talk to the nerd. Fuck, the nerd. He can’t think about anything else, itching for that playful banter one more time. 


“I’m gonna start y’all off with something slow today.” 


Fuck something slow. He hates slow. He hates waiting and he hates feeling helpless. It’s a shot in the fucking dark, but he has to try. 


“Actually, fuck, uh. I don’t normally do this, personal shit and all, but I don’t have any other way to fucking contact you because you’re a prick and blocked me, but Deku.... If you’re listening... You’re really fucking stupid.” 


Maybe calling the person you want to speak to you again a prick isn’t exactly the way to go, but Katsuki has never really been good with his words. 


“Ugh, yeah actually fuck you, because that was you in the coffee shop right?” That’s rhetorical. Of course it was Deku and curse his brain for not really looking. Also curse Deku for not stopping him there to scream at him. He could have explained everything immediately, saved them all the trouble and he could be wooing him with all of many, many talents right now.


“If you hadn’t ran away and blocked me I could be confessing my fucking love or whatever to you right now and we could be fucking on my couch binging all of the James Bond movies, but instead  you managed to eavesdrop our conversation without letting me explain. 


Seems like your nerdy ass is a trend setter and now everyone is callin in the station for a piece of this, which everyone else needs to fuck off by the way I’m not fucking interested unless you’re Deku. You weren’t... It wasn’t about you, and I’m... Fuck, I’m sorry.” He only allows himself one apology every other year, too prideful to ever genuinely mean it. It felt heavy on his tongue, foreign, but for the first time necessary. He’s not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for other than being a loud mouth, but it’s the first time he’s ever cared about actually being forgiven. 


He couldn’t make it through his full set.


Legs were bouncing in his chair, allowing the nervous energy to shift his mood. When the fuck has he ever just laid down and taken it when bad things happen? If Deku never wants to speak to him, fine, but they’re going to meet before that ever happens. He’s going to make it really fucking clear how he feels whether Deku likes it or not. 


He was in the middle of playing Heatwaves by Glass Animals before standing abruptly. The two behind the glass look like they were expecting this moment at any point, Kirishima already reaching for the headphones in Katsuki’s hands. He gives him a toothy smile before tilting his head towards the door. Sero was looking smug, still in his chair. 


The first person he thinks of is Mina who is doubled over behind her desk wearing a similar expression that Katsuki had just an hour earlier. Her eyes are wide but hopeful when she sees him rush over. 


“Bakugo, your set doesn’t end for another 45 minutes?”


“Fuck my set, do you remember that twerp’s Instagram username or anything about where he hung out?” 


Her smile was sickening when she grabbed her phone with a quickness. “No can do. It looks like he still deactivated all of his accounts. He just always posted with his friends. Are we sleuthing?” 


He forgot about that. Of course the nerd would be diligent enough to go so far. He was meticulous and normally he’d consider that endearing but right now he thinks it’s really fucking annoying. 


“Fuck yeah we’re sleuthing. Do you remember his friends' usernames?” He can do friends, okay yeah. As long as he gets into contact with a human he can make it work. He’s... charming enough? 


She thinks for a minute and he can see the cogs visibly turn in her head. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was smoke soon. “Oh yeah, there was this girl he was always tagged with, uh uravity? I think they were really good friends. Brown hair, super hot, angel face.” 


His phone was out with Instagram open the moment she said her username, too ecstatic for a lead to sit still. “Yeah, yeah, fuck her later, is this it?” 


The profile was private unfortunately, but that doesn’t stop him from staring intently at the icon, a soft blur of green in the corner visible. Mina squints as she tries to do the same and nods. “Yep the one and only. He mentioned her to me a couple times. Said her name was Ochako.” 


Katsuki didn’t hear that last part. He was quick to DM her, suddenly nervous about sounding overtly stalkerish, but that didn’t last long because nervous and Katsuki are not words that go together very well. He has no shame on a bad day. 


GroundZero: I’m a friend of Deku. Can you get me in contact with him?


He thinks a little too late that was a bit blunt but elects to ignore it.


GroundZero: Oh, I mean Izuku. 


GroundZero: Please.


The last message was painful, but he’d endure anything to get a fucking DM back. He’s never been on the receiving end of shit like this before, always the one to ignore the hundreds of 40 year old virgins that want to pay him to jerk it to his feet. He’s not 40 and nor is he a virgin so he’s already a step above all of the rest. One minute, then two pass and he’s suddenly lacking all patience. 


“WHY WON'T SHE RESPOND?” A vein is prominent against his forehead. 


“It hasn’t even been five minutes.” He knows she’s enjoying this and it only makes him angrier.


“I even said please.” 


A look of genuine shock crosses her face. “You?! Wow you must be really horny.” 


No comment because, true, but also true love or some shit. “Please drink bleac-“


The Instagram ding was like a sweet release. 


uravity: is this kaachan? :* just checking before i send a serial killer his info


He holds back from commenting on the nickname or from asking if he really talks about him. It’s childish, but it makes him blush if only a little. 


GroundZero: Katsuki, yeah. I’ll only kill him platonically. I’m kind of in a hurry, he blocked me. 


uravity: you and i both know nothing between you two is platonic. he caught me up already


uravity: you’re lucky i think he’s dumb in this situation


Katsuki was about to cringe from the knowledge that she knows he’s in the dog house and ask her to pass on a message for him before the next message comes through. It takes a minute for him to process that it’s Deku’s address on his screen. 


He only has the time to send a quick ‘thanks’ in return and give Mina a determined look before he’s booking it out the door and sliding in the driver's side of his car. 


It was finally going to happen. 


The sick reality that Deku lived not even five minutes from him crashed into him like a freight train. It was comical really. All this time and he jogs passed his fucking complex every weekend like clockwork. How many times has he seen him come out to his car or from his front balcony and not know it?


There were no cars in front of the complex but he knocked anyway. He’ll wait all day if he has to. Stubbornness is a trait that’s kicked him in the ass before.


He takes the time to clear his head and think about what he’s going to say. He’s been acting on instinct this whole time, only just now realizing how fucking weird this whole situation was. Katsuki wouldn’t change it for the world. 


He was leaning against Deku’s front door for an hour, nerves only spiking the longer he was there. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling nervous, he wasn’t used to worrying about what other people think about him, but God does that boy do things to him he‘s not used to. 


The sky has turned a burnt orange at this point, his favorite color bleeding across the horizon. Golden hour covered him in a warmth that made everything feel hazy, like he was in a simulation or some shit. It was the only thing calming his anxieties. 




He sees green and thinks in that moment that he was wrong about orange being his favorite color all these years.


If there was a God, Katsuki is certain they made Deku to be the personification of sunshine. He was all soft freckles and sun kissed skin and eyes so big they took up most of his face. If there was one word he would use to describe Deku it would be soft. He looks like he had been struck stupid and Katsuki wouldn’t thinks he likes it that way. 


The closer Deku got to his front door the more he realized how fucking tiny he was, and holy shit he’d be lying if that wasn’t doing something to him. Maybe it was a stroke to his ego or maybe it satiated some desire in him that made him want to pin him down and make him cry, Katsuki doesn’t know, all he knows is that he wants to monopolize this boy. The height difference made him strain upwards to stare wide eyed, blush reaching down to his neck. He was fit, muscular thighs and strong arms filling out his knit sweater well and Katsuki held himself back from groaning out loud at the sight because he really needs to check out his yoga credentials. He looked good, both in the sense that he embodies a hot high school history teacher that teenage girls are obsessed with, but also like how you would describe a puppy that learned a new trick. 


Months of yearning, of having nothing to picture on the other end of the phone amassed to this very moment. He was so busy staring that he almost forgot to speak.


“Deku, we need to talk-“


“If you want to punch me, just do it-“


If the notion wasn’t so hilarious with the way his green eyes screwed shut, he’d consider it. Not the particular brand of physical contact he prefers, but he’d take anything to get his hands on him. 


The blush darkening tan skin only spread further when Katsuki didn’t respond. He was so busy looking into his eyes or something gay like that, that he just let the nerd word vomit. He’s never really been good with doing that himself.


“Uh... Oh... Please ignore that... I was listening to your show and heard you confess and it was really embarrassing, but I realized my mistake and I was going to call you to tell you I’m sorry and that I’m in love with you but my phone got messed up and I went to fix it but all of the stores are closed and that was way too much talking because you’re looking at me like I’m insane but I really just like you and I was totally prepared to grovel at your feet but now that I said that out loud it totally sounds more insane for me to do.”


Katsuki had to reel himself in before he told him to actually grovel. Perhaps it’s his own sadistic nature appearing at such an inappropriate time or perhaps it’s that he’d get to have Deku low and clinging to him like he really wants. Regardless the reason, he kicks himself for hyper fixating on such a dumb part of that mini monologue.


The feelings being mutual wasn’t a surprise either, in fact he would have bet his life on it. One look and it’s obvious he wears his heart on his sleeve, but with a second it’s also obvious that mind of his needs a heavy adderall prescription to function normally. 


“You broke your phone?” Smooth, Katsuki. 


“That’s what you take out of that?”


“Good to know you’re fluent in back talk in person too.”


“Good to know you’re.... you’re....”


He knows that look, eyes half lidded, distracted. Normally he wouldn’t give a shit, but fuck if he doesn’t like the silent praise from this dwarf of a man. 


“Before I let you continue checking me out,” Yes, keep blushing. Just like that. “Mind telling me why you ran away and blocked me, twerp?”


Eyes averted to look anywhere except for at him. Now he couldn’t have that.


“I’m sorry Kaachan... I thought you were stringing me along and secretly hated me and I just panicked...”


Katauki’s hands were twitching, holding themselves back from grabbing anything he could get a hold of and taking


As he was talking Katsuki managed to prowl stealthy until he had Deku cornered, back against the door like a bunny ready to be eaten. 


He said nothing, instead allowing the tension to build while Deku desperately tried to fill the silence with whispered words.


“I didn’t want to be hurt again. You’re the only person I didn’t want to hurt me like that.”


Their proximity seems to have finally caught up with him. They shared a heated gaze against Deku’s front door, electricity stinging the tips of their fingers. 


He leaned in so that their faces were barely an inch apart. 


“And what way did you want me to hurt you instead?”


A flash of lust ridden humiliation washed over Deku’s face. Katsuki lived for it. Which was great for him, as it meant he was eliciting the exact response he was hoping for. It was not, however, so great for Izuku, because it made Katsuki want to destroy him into next week.


“Come on you can use your words can’t you?”


Want floods his body, but he has to wait. He has to hear him say it.


It’s barely a whisper when it comes.


“Please, anything, I just want you.”


Katsuki kisses like he plays sports. Rough, messy, and not very often. They were all desperation and hands grasping at clothes and Katsuki wouldn’t want it any other way. 


He can feel the clink of metal against his teeth, a fact that makes his head spin, and suddenly it’s taking him everything to not picture his sweet, little Deku on his knees, tongue flat against the underside of his cock. 


He wraps his hands around Deku’s waist to press him to his body, hot and firm and so small in comparison to the way Katsuki shielded him from the rest of the world. Deku was melting against him, fingers threading through his hair as if to keep him there forever. As if Katsuki would ever want to leave. 


God, he knew Deku would be loud, but this? The pitiful moans that he swallowed whole drove him up the wall, made him want to explode. He very well might if they don’t break for air soon, but he’s so drunk off of Deku’s taste, his smell, that he’d rather die on the spot.


And then Deku did something that made Katsuki want to scream. On his tiptoes, stretched to his limit, he used his muscles to jump up and get impossibly closer. Their body heat was scorching hot against the cool evening air. It was like a glass of water in a desert, leaving Katsuki a still starving man. 


Deku broke away first, presumably to speak, but Katsuki kept his own mouth busy littering marks across his neck. Everyone will know who he belongs to by the time they’re done. Just how he likes it.


“K-Kaachan, we need-“ He bites his neck, dragging out more breathless moans.


“We need to get inside.” As if to emphasize his point, Deku tugs his hair painfully hard, but the sensation only manages to rile him up more. “Please.”


A hand snakes into Deku’s back pocket, grabbing a handful of ass before taking the keys and finding the lock. He can feel his voice reverberate in the way it does when he first wakes up in the morning, rough and deep. “You sound so pretty begging like this, like it’s what you’re meant to do.” 


He doesn’t know what he’s saying at this point except that he can’t stop. Something about the way Deku marks his own neck with just as much fervor makes him unable to maintain what little filter he had. “Didn’t realize you were such a whore for it.” There was a whine, sweet like vanilla. “Wish I asked to meet you sooner, I would have given it to you.”


Katsuki is too heat drunk to maneuver around Deku’s apartment, and honestly any horizontal surface that he can press and grind into works just great for what he has in mind.


The kitchen table falls victim first, but he knows it won’t be the last if he has any say in their future. 


For weeks he had been thinking how he was going to fuck Deku stupid, quell that overactive  imagination he has. It seems his mouth hadn’t caught up just yet, but Katsuki lives for it.


“Off, I want this off.” The leather jacket he had suddenly felt too heavy over his back. He ripped off the offending material to slide his hands under the nerd’s sweater. He had him sat pretty on the table, thighs squeezing his waist like a vice. All he can think about is how smooth and hot Deku feels against him.


Green eyes are looking at him like a full course meal and it makes him preen. He notices the way he lingers on his biceps so he flexes subtly under the gaze. Deku grabs the hem of his tight, black shirt and tugs. “You have too many clothes on Kaachan, come on, please. Wanna feel you.”


Normally he would be kind and give into whatever demands this nerd spews at him, but today he’s feeling particularly cruel. “Running away from me like that and you think you call the shots, asshole?” 


Deku’s hands are stopped by his much bigger ones only to be placed firmly on the table. “Be a dear and keep them there. You can do that can’t you? You can be a good boy for me right?” Condescension seeped out of his every word and the desperate expression on Deku’s face only managed to spur him on more. 


He wants to go slow, take his time unraveling this boy, worshiping his every move, his every sound. But that’s for another time when they both aren’t shaking from anticipation to feel each other for the first time. 


“Answer my fucking question.” The please is left unsaid, but he needs it more than he needs air.


“I’ll be good for you.” The way Deku is canting his body closer towards him, seeking any friction Katsuki will allow him, is scorching his skin.


Katsuki doesn’t bother with his own clothes, too busy pushing Deku to lay flat against the table and unbuttoning and yanking his pants off of his body. The image he was left with could have fueled him for years to come. Thick legs wrapped around his waist, cream sweater riding up his chest, curly hair sticking to his face flushed red with sweat and tears. His cock was twitching and hard against his abdomen, beads of precum pooling at the tip like it was crying. He looked practically devoured. Like a meal fit for a king, and boy did he ever feel like a king.


He wants to fuck him, feel him from the inside out like it’s his last mission on Earth, but they don’t have lube and Katsuki isn’t a fucking idiot. The size of his massive cock is about as big as his ego, and maybe spit is an okay temporary for the average guy, Katsuki isn’t average in anything. He could pull back, rummage around in Deku’s room and look for it, but he’s not willing or able to tear himself away from the wet heat under him. 


They have plenty of time for Katsuki to split him in half later. He could make a game out of it, work him up slowly with his fingers, see how many times he could make him cum before he finally fucks him open, overstimulated and sobbing. 


The look he gives Deku is merciless. “Fucking hard already, Deku?”


He knows he isn’t any better, but the way Deku moans at the sick tone of his voice makes it worth the hypocrisy.


Half broken cries of please and need it spill from his mouth as Katsuki slowly unbuttons his own pants. He pulls them down just enough to take his cock out, hissing from the sensation of it in his hand. He wants Deku to know how this is gonna go, how unbothered he is to not  take off his own clothes and leave the smaller man in only his socks and sweater. 


Deku’s eyes don’t leave his lower half, watching longingly as Katsuki uses his own hand to tease the head of his dick, twisting roughly around his own piercing.  He wants to kiss him again, feel the hot metal in his mouth, know how it feels against him. 


Hands are twitching at Deku’s sides and Katsuki brings one of his own to pink lips in anticipation. “Use your mouth for something useful and get it wet for me.”


The puppy dog eyes he gets in return only are wide and shining with hope. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”


There’s a brief pause before Katsuki smirks. “No.” Fingers press into a wet mouth before holding to let Deku whine and move his head around them like it’s his fucking civic duty. 


When they’re just wet enough, shiny with spit and dripping down his hand, Katsuki has the bright idea to take both of their cocks in his grasp and press them together. 


They groan in unison, momentarily distracted by how good it feels to finally be this close. Katsuki is sure he’d give up his first born son just to experience this one more time. He lets the drool collect in his mouth before he spits down onto the both of them. 


Katsuki isn’t sure what compels him to lean forward and ghost his lips against Deku’s own bitten ones, but he does. “As much as I want to watch you fall apart on my cock, I don’t think you can take it. You’re going to have to settle for my hand today.” 


That seemed to get Deku frantic, hips bucking up into Katsuki’s hold and creating such a delicious friction that had his head swimming in seconds. “Wait, no, please. I can take it. I can take it. Wait, Katsuki, let me try I wan-“


Before Deku can say another word, Katsuki is moving his hips, manhandling powerful thighs to bend at an unnatural angle, delighting in the way Deku is so pliable for him. Years as a yoga instructor did wonders, and it has Katsuki wondering what other positions he could fold him in. He presses one of his thighs against the side of Deku’s head with a silent order for him to hold it there. Like the good little helper he is, Deku does without complaint.


The stretch only seems to add more fire to Deku’s desperation, one hand holding his leg in place, the other joining Katsuki’s after he wets his own first. 


It’s embarrassing how fast he feels himself fall, wasting no time to thrust his hips at a violent pace, watching as tears fall from Deku’s face. He loves him. Loves the way he shakes under his hold, sloppily kissing the fingers that found themselves caressing the side of his freckled head. Loves how erotic Deku is moaning around them, unable to keep his eyes off of Katsuki like he’s the only man on Earth. 


“Fuck, Deku, look at you. You’re so good for me like this, look so precious gagging for it.” 


Deku’s tongue lolling out of his mouth in a show, drool collecting at the end of it and onto his sweater. Katsuki doesn’t want to think about how much of a mess they’re making, only wants to feel the way they slide together deliciously. 


“Thought of you like this, Kaachan.” 




“Thought of how you’d be.”


He was far too intrigued to sound condescending, instead whispering with breathless curiosity while he moved his hips slower to let the other breathe. “And how is that?” 


Deku must have known what he was doing, batting his eyelashes and tightening his hand wrapped around them. “Thought you’d be mean like how you are on air. Thought - ah, fuck- you’d be rough, use your hands on me...” The way he softly grabbed the hand caressing his cheek to travel lower, wrap it around his neck where it felt like it belonged, was downright sinful. “...Here.”


“This is how you want me to hurt you? Hand around your throat like a whore?” 


Katsuki could feel himself lose it when he tightened his hand around Deku’s throat. The noises were muted by the lack of blood rushing to his head, but Katsuki was more focused on the way his eyes rolled back, mouth open. He fell apart while he watched in wonder, felt Deku’s body tremble through his orgasm, Katsuki’s name a ghost on his lips, back arched, their cum ruining his sweater. He'd have Pavlov’s dogged himself if Deku ever wore it again, knowing just what face he made when he was twitching in his hands in bliss. 


They were covered in sweat and tears and more fluids Katsuki would like to count, but he was gentle when he raked his hands over Deku’s body, brushing the hair out of his face in a loving gesture. 


Breaths coming in panting and pained when he finally spoke. “I thought I lost you.”


Deku pulled him down for a kiss, slow and deep. He could feel the heaviness of his feelings through it. It was overwhelming. “Sorry for running away.” 


Katsuki’s smile was genuine for the first time in days. “Unblock me before I give you a knuckle sandwich, twerp.”




The days following their meeting had Izuku on cloud nine, kicking himself for ever thinking that Kaachan could be anything less than Kaachan. He didn’t have long to dwell on his mistake, because the only thing that he had time to think about was the way he felt so at home.


They cleaned up after the first night, Kaachan insisting to do all the work while Izuku lay boneless on the table, mumbling about how good Kaachan takes care of him unintelligibly. From the way he relaxed at his words, Izuku made sure to keep it up until a couch pillow was pressed abruptly in his face. He immediately made quick work of his promise to feed Izuku after giving him a lecture about the sorry state his fridge was in. 


Most of the time they stayed at Kaachan’s place after work, huddled together under covers while they watched and theorized about their favorite superhero movies. It felt so natural to be around one another, like in some parallel universe they grew up together attached at the hip. 


The grocery shopping was something he had to get used to. It’s nice to have someone to go with. It feels almost domestic with the way they playfully bicker in the cereal aisle, but Izuku prays for the day he can go alone and buy Cinnamon Toast Crush again without the added argument about the potential to find shrimp stuffed in the bottom of the bag . Kaachan insisted on feeding him properly despite complaining midway through, but Izuku is positive he only does it to hear excited praise when he takes a bite. 


Actually he’s certain Kaachan does a lot of things to hear Izuku praise and dote after him. He was surprisingly handy, fixing a faulty light in his bathroom that hasn’t been touched in months because he’s too short and too lazy to deal with it himself. There was a comment about how useless he was somewhere in there, but he replaced the light no matter how many times Izuku told him he didn’t need to. At every corner Kaachan manages to surprise Izuku, so much more romantic and sensitive to his needs than he would have given him credit for. 


On air he’s so combative and feisty, and needless to say it translates seamlessly to real life, but he’s also... thoughtful in his own way. 


There’s a sense of fondness he gets when he watches Kaachan talk about his friends. It’s the same when he grunts out something dismissive but thought out about a topic he’s passionate about. Izuku didn’t think he could love this man more, but he’s been wrong before. 


Izuku has a hard time differentiating whether Kaachan’s need to be touching him at all times is a him thing or if he’s afraid Izuku will disappear again. Perhaps both, but regardless he doesn’t mind the hands caressing his lower back as they stand next to one another, or how when he’s doing his physics homework Kaachan insists on caging him in, his head resting on his shoulder while hands wrap around his waist to keep him still. 


They share quick kisses that turn into something deep and carnal when it’s time to leave, his apartment always feeling cold when he does. 


Except that’s all that happens. Kaachan won’t touch him more than the heated make out sessions on the couch late at night or sliding a hand against his ass when Izuku bends to check which fruit is ripe enough to bring home. Breath ghosts against his neck because that’s just how Kaachan is, always pressed behind him in one form or another, but never more. Never in the way he wants. 


It took a week to get their schedules right for Kaachan to finally meet Ochako and Ida. Apparently he was one to workout strictly mornings, but found the time to surprise him during his afternoon shift at work. Both Ida and Ochako come to stretch after their classes during the week and when Kaachan’s brooding, intimidating presence strolled into the open room like he owned the place, everyone stopped to stare.


Izuku doesn’t blame them, he was also caught staring with his mouth open while he was fiddling with the speaker by the stage. 


Fuck him for looking so good, but also fuck him for stalking up to him immediately with that shit eating smirk on his face. Izuku is convinced he’s ready to kill him at any given moment. 


“I didn’t expect you to be the stretching type.”


Kaachan shrugged, the orange matt finally coming into view. “Figured I should see how the hell you manage to do that thing you do with your legs.” 


“Why? Wanna learn?” 


“I like thinking of it like reading the instructions before you play with a new toy. Don’t wanna break you.” How the hell does he just say that in public? 


Izuku’s face was burning, immediately feeling the curious looks from the other members' boring holes into them. Kaachan seemed to be aware of the others, but unbothered as he leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. 


He wants to kill him for working him up like this on purpose. He was about to do just that before Ochako wiggled her way in between them, Ida right on her trail. 


“Is this the famous Katsuki I’ve heard all about?” She was sweet with her words, but Izuku knew just how protective she could be. He was preparing himself for them to be at each other’s throats.


Ida held his hand out quickly to cut the tension. “It’s nice to finally meet you, we’re good friends of Midoriya’s.” 


Kaachan tentatively shook it before looking at Izuku, pleading for help before he said something he shouldn’t. Ida specifically is the type of person that would make him feel awkward. Izuku thought it was cute that he was trying to play nice for him, enjoying watching him sweat from restraint. “Uh, nice to meet you Four Eyes.”


Ah, too late. In Kaachan’s defense, that was as nice as it gets. Ida’s face was red with shock, but this time it was Ochako who came to save the day, pushing him towards the back of the room near their matts before the taller one found the words to speak. “Oh boy, we’re going to get ready, y’all make sure not to give everyone a show they didn’t pay for.” 


Izuku stuffed his face in his hands at the implication. Kaachan would do it without hesitation too. With how physical he had been since they met, Izuku thinks he would jump at the opportunity to show off in front of a crowd.


The voice in his ear shocked him. “Does he always have a stick up his ass?” 


A giggle. “Yeah, but he’s just like that.”


“Hm, well make sure to teach me a thing or too, dork.” He winked before retreating to the front row, setting up where he got a clear view of everything Izuku.


Honestly, fuck that guy. He wants to. So bad.


After a week of not going farther than heavy petting, and months of listening to the raspiness of his voice in the solitude of his car, Izuku was buzzing under his skin. If Kaachan is going to play dirty, then he’s going to do everything to amplify temptation. The sudden chivalry has been like an ice bath. Chivalry should be dead, Kaachan should kill it like he does everything wholesome. 


Kaachan makes him feel good about himself. He feels like he’s brimming with confidence with the way red eyes follow his movements, hovering longer than necessary when he bends, lengthening his back, reaching his toes. 


It was an advanced class today, bodies brimming with sweat not even ten minutes in, and Kaachan never left his peripheral. He was pleasantly surprised with how well he was able to keep up, core tight and balanced, but unable to stretch as far as he was. It was to be expected, Izuku had been doing this for years, his muscles were used to the push and pull of the complicated positions. 


At one point while Izuku was directing everyone through the Humble Flamingo, he felt eyes leave him. He glanced quickly, arms cemented to the ground, face tucked into his feet. His legs and arms made an X from the sides, one calf kicked in the air, muscles warm and blood pumping. Kaachan’s eyes were focused intently behind him, and in that moment he remembered there was a floor length mirror from wall to wall behind him.


He kept that information in the back of his mind for the rest of the class, using that to his advantage. He caught Ochako’s knowing smirk from the back and elected to ignore it. 


By the time it was over, the room felt humid even after people slowly shuffled out. Kaachan was on him in an instant, bending down to keep their whispers between the two of them. 


“If you move like that every time you’re at work, I’ll have to start coming to visit more often. ” 


This was it, finally, in the haze of his yoga studio he felt like he was coming undone. He’d risk it all right here for this man standing tall and proud in front of him, shoulders thick and bulging in the cut outs of his wife beater.


“I’d do it too. Pull you to the bathrooms to mark you up, make you unable to wear such a low cut shirt around anyone ever again.” 


Izuku felt dizzy, toes stretching, pushing him up to make it a reality, anything, please. 


Buzz. Buzz.


The vibrations in Kaachan’s pockets pulled them apart, Kaachan cursing to himself as he read it. 


No, no, no, no. Izuku is so frustrated he could cry right now. 


“Gotta go to work soon, fuck. Tune in tonight so I can serenade you, alright?” 


As if he doesn’t listen to him every night? Izuku was offended he even had to ask, still unwilling to let him leave just yet. 


He did serenade him that night with the same banter and shitty attitude that made Izuku fall for him. 


Apparently he had ran into Ochako and Ida in the parking lot on the way out and they had got to talking. He texted Izuku that night about getting together soon. It seems he respects Ochako a lot despite his attitude. Ida, Izuku thinks, he just enjoys bullying. 




Izuku has yet to meet Kaachan’s friends though, which is ridiculous considering one of which he’s been speaking to just as long as he had been the blonde. 


That is until Mina finally annoyed Kaachan enough to bring Izuku around to meet everyone. He remembers hearing her through the phone, chastising him for keeping Izuku all to himself. They still text everyday about nonsense, and it wasn’t until Kaachan caught them making plans without him that he gave in. 


When Izuku asked him about why he didn’t want them to hang out alone, Kaachan’s ears turned red. “They’ll probably say some embarrassing shit. I don’t trust that alien looking freak.” 


He was amused then, still not even sure what Mina looked like, but he assumed that Katsuki forgot about the months of anonymity they shared.


Mina was actually the cutest person alive. If he could use one word to describe her it would be pink. Pink in the way early Paris Hilton would be described as pink if she specifically shopped high end second hand ‘vintage’ clothing. Minus the shady Depop reseller vibe. She’s stylish. He thought it suited her.


They hugged for as long as Kirishima allowed them to, claiming he gets a turn to hug the guy who managed to tame their precious Bakubro. Izuku got a face full of pecs before finally being allowed to breathe. 


Denki and Sero were relentless in their attempts to get their arms around him next, and in seconds he was lifted off the ground, both bodies squeezing him from all angles. 


“Yo, he’s cute Bakugo! Why’d you hide him away for so long!” Sero, he thinks, beams over to where Kaachan is grumbling in his seat. They were over at Kaachan's place for movie night and he’s never felt more welcome. 


Denki puts his hand on his shoulder, shocking him with electricity. “Oh, sorry man! I’m full of static.”


Sero elbowed him in the side. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s fried his brain at this point. Doctors say he came out of the womb sticking forks in light sockets.”


During the movie Kirishima and Mina smoked a bit, the white cloud of miasma filling the room. They both insisted he sit sandwiched between them, Kirishima’s arm around his shoulders holding him tight, and Mina laying against Izuku's chest. The smoke made him feel heavy in a good way and he briefly noted how comfortable he felt like this, like he’s known them forever. 


He could feel whenever Kirishima would chuckle or inhale, chest expanding and contrasting with the motions. It was nice, rhythmic. He was practically as big as Kaachan, dwarfing him on the couch. Mina stayed glued to him like a koala, the weight of her head and arms around his waist grounding him in the moment. 


He remembers looking over at Kaachan throughout the movie, who was sat in an armchair to the side. He was focused, arms clenched around a pillow with that little frown on his face. With the way he was so possessive, Izuku was surprised how calm he was seeing his friends all over him. He thinks it’s a testament to how close they are, how unthreatened he was. It’s an observation that makes Izuku love him more. 


He loves his friends just how Kaachan loves his friends, and he loves Kaachan more for it. The blue light of the TV covered the right side of his face, emphasizing the soft curve of his brow and the purple mark he left high on his neck just yesterday. This moment hardly felt real. Kaachan was his and he was Kaachan’s and his heart felt so full he wanted to cry. 


Their eyes meet when red eyes glance at him during one of the most important parts in the movie, a warm smile on his lips. It was vulnerable and too much for his gay little heart, so he buried himself in Kirishima’s chest, arm tightening around him in comfort. 


At one point Kaachan kicked out his friends, the TV still playing something soft in the background, but he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. Izuku was still curled up on the couch in the dark, anticipating finally, finally being alone with Kaachan. 


He was wearing those loose sweatpants that hung low against his hips. Izuku was considering filing a complaint against Nike for personally making his life harder. Red eyes immediately landed on his own as we walked back into the room. 


They sat next to each other, Kaachan’s legs spread wide, arm retreating against the back of the couch. He seemed uncharacteristically nervous. “So, happy you finally met them?”


He faked being in thought for a moment before giving him a bright smile. “I see why you like them so much. Invite me again next time?”


Kaachan didn’t answer, opting instead to stare at him from the side. His eyes wouldn’t leave his lips, tempting him to just go for it and pounce. 


From this distance he could smell the sweet caramel Kaachan was known to permeate, even through the musk of weed. “It still smells like weed in here.” 


That seemed to distract him. He snorted, leaning forward onto his knees, reaching for the bowl on the table. “Yeah, I guess it does. Do you smoke?”


Izuku stared at him in disbelief. “I’m way too sexy to know how to work that thing, Kaachan.” Really? He screams I didn’t get invited to school parties because I was very obviously stuck to the flagpole. That never actually happened to him, but ther imagery was there. 


There was a laugh as Katsuki reached for the lighter covered in skulls and Thrasher flames. “Do you want to?”


He thought about it. It wasn’t something he ever craved doing, always more of a drinker than anything, but here with Kaachan he feels safe. A better time than any. “Sure, why not?”


Kaachan held the bowl up to his lips and watched intently as he lit it. “I’ll hold it. Put your mouth on it and suck. Inhale, yeah like that.” 


He was doing it, feeling the smoke fill up his lungs smoothly until Kaachan started speaking. He breathed in too much when he heard the word suck come out of his mouth like he was commanding him to do something else. The cloudy feeling in his head would have been nice if he wasn’t coughing his lungs out, eyes watering at the corners. 


“Not too much or that’ll happen. Here, softer like this.” Kaachan took a hit and Izuku watched the way his head tilted back as he exhaled. It was unfair how hot he was. “Try again.”


Izuku did, stopping before it went down wrong, and his head felt floaty and his arms felt like they were buzzing. It wasn’t a bad sensation, in fact he kind of liked it. 


“See that wasn’t so hard, good boy.” His throat was burning as was his face. They way Kaachan can go from vulgarities and filth to condescending praise made his head swim. He could already feel his jeans tightening under the implications. 


From the way Kaachan gave him a once over while he took another hit himself, he knew just how he affected him. If he could punch him in his stupid, pretty face he would.


“Here let me shotgun it to you to make it easier.” 


He was about to ask what that meant before Kaachan took another hit and pulled his face towards him, mouth open and blowing smoke directly into it. He’s not sure if it’s the weed or Kaachan’s presence so close to his own, lips barely ghosting one another, but his ears are ringing. He wants everything Kaachan is willing to offer him. 


The blonde was pulling back, retreating into the comfort of his spot on the couch, but Izuku has had enough of this cat and mouse. 


He wants to feel him, all of him. 


Green hair follows him back to his seated position, thighs pushing forward to crawl into personal space. He decides straddling Kaachan’s lap and sitting nice and pretty on top of him is the best way to emphasize his point.


He brings their mouths together again, this time no smoke in the way of the kiss. The bowl and lighter were left discarded somewhere unimportant, big hands too busy digging into the meat of Izuku’s hips. He wants it to bruise, wants the reminder to sting for days. 


Kaachan holds his hips still as they desperately try to grind against what can only be explained as Kaachan’s very hard cock in his sweatpants. He can feel how much he wants him, so why? Why is he stopping this?


Izuku whines through the kiss, hands snaking upwards to clutch desperately around a thick neck and collar. His name became a mantra on his tongue, the only word he knows how to say. “You won’t fuck me.” It came out more like a statement than a question, disappointment evident in his tone. 


Kaachan stayed shocked for a moment before morphing into a face of satisfaction. “Do you want me to fuck you?” The hands on his hips traveled further, into his jeans, barely teasing. 


Izuku felt like he could cry, far passed the shame of humiliation, and bit his lip until he tasted blood. “God, yes, please. Please, I’ve been so good. I’ve been waiting for you.” As if to drive his point home further he started to grind into Kaachan harder, moaning at the friction he so urgently needed. 


There was a groan from the other as he closed his eyes, head tilted back and out of the way. “Yeah, me too, fuck. Me too.” The hands stuffed into his jeans and cupped against his ass pressed harder, made him grind down so hard he was seeing stars. “Need to get you ready though. Didn’t wanna hurt you, that's why I waited.” 


Normally Izuku would think the gesture was sweet, but after the week of pure torture he’s had, it only infuriates him more. 


Kaachan made a move to get up, and Izuku was not happy about it. “Gonna carry you to my room. No way in hell I’m doing this without lube.” 


He knows it’s because it’s big. He’s seen it a handful of times, felt it hard and pressed up against his lower back more times than he can count. 


Somewhere, deep down he’s sure embarrassment was burning bright and hot, but right now he couldn’t care less. He reached into his back pocket for one of those portable lube packets they give out at sex clinics and shitty school functions. “Wanted to be ready for you whenever....” 


Kaachan manhandled him until he was pressed flat on his back, the soft cushion of the couch being the only thing to ground him to reality. He wasn’t very high per-se, but his sensations were heightened and heavy and all he could think about was Kaachan


“God, you’re such a slut. Ready to spread your legs for me whenever I tell you too? Look at how you’re whining. Gonna wake up my neighbors with a voice like that.” The filthy words managed to spur him on, hips bucking up, hands tearing at clothes. “So prepared for me, how sweet. You’re gonna stay here while I grab a condom from my room and you’re not going to move.” 


Normally the authoritative tone would be a turn on, make him want to just roll over and obey, but right now he feels like he’s going to go crazy if Kaachan leaves him. 


His eyes are pleading as he grasps at straws. “No, no, wait I’m clean please, please, I want you to cum in me. You have to fill me up like you said. Please, Kaachan don’t go.” He was borderline unintelligible with the way he babbled and thrashed about, but he was violent with need. 


For once his words seemed to have struck something in him. He wasn’t concerned about condoms anyway, knowing too well how anal Kaachan is about his own personal health, but also shaking with the prospect of finally, finally feeling him like he’s always wanted. 


In a flash Kaachan’s shirt is thrown off and onto the floor and Izuku uses that moment to revel in the sight. His own pants were tugged off next leaving him in a similar situation like the first time. “You asked for it you little shit” 


The lube packet lay unopened on his stomach, his own shirt finally joining the rest of their clothes. Kaachan roughly tugs his body down to rest level with his own. He wants to touch, to taste, but he knows better than to play with fire. 


Kaachan’s fingers were so much bigger than his own and absolutely dripping with slick. 


“Always wondered what it would be like to have you like this.” A finger entered him finally, finally, and he moaned at the stretch. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, far too used to the feeling of his own inside him, silently wishing they were someone else.


“Wanted to tear you apart on my fingers and see you break.” 


He can’t think except for how he was going to push against the hand that impaled him. Another finger joined the first. Kaachan always made him feel so good. 


“You’re better than I imagined. Who knows maybe I will end up fucking you stupid. Would you like that? Turn all mindless and fucked out just for me?”


He only managed a choked moan. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, more, more. 


A third burned in the best way. “Wow you’re taking it so well. Did you do this to yourself and think of me? Don’t fucking lie to me.


Izuku doesn’t know why Kaachan is asking questions he knows the answer to already. It’s frustrating, making his throat close up from being overwhelmed with how good he feels. He tries to nod anyway, words failing him in the moment, because he knows Kaachan wants an answer. 


“Yes, yes, I do. I do, ah!- ” 


His smirk is sickening. “I fucking knew it.


It felt like eternity. He lay naked on the couch, blurry eyes looking up at Kaachan like he was a God, and perhaps he was. The shine from the TV illuminated his silhouette in a way that couldn’t be natural, couldn’t be real. It took a moment to finally find his voice, but all he could let out were cries of please, please please.


And when Kaachan finally pulled out to release himself from the constraints of his own pants, Izuku thought his heart would stop. He had seen it before, felt it before, but it looked so big, proportional to Kaachan’s overwhelming build. There’s no way it’s gonna fit.


The look on Kaachan’s face was pure evil as he covered himself in more lube and lined himself up. “Then I’ll make it fit.” 


Suddenly everything made sense. The feeling so overwhelmingly delicious and good and, fuck, he felt so full. He’s sure his face mirrored the blissed out version of Kaachan’s above him, covered in a layer of sweat. 


“Oh God.”


Hands grasped for purchase against Kaachan’s back, undoubtedly leaving marks from his nails, but neither seemed to care. 


“You can call me God all you want, but I prefer Katsuki coming from you.” 


He could only groan in response, loving the way confidence rolled off of his body while he’s balls deep inside of him. 


The strained fucks whispered under Kaachan’s breath when he picked up the pace were like music to his ears, thighs trembling from the force of his thrusts. He hit that angle that was impossible for Izuku to find by himself, and he was finished. His orgasm was unexpected, body seizing and all he could do was chant his name as he came untouched. “Katsuki, oh God, please.”


“That’s right you can cum, go on” 


Kaachan devoured Izuku in a kiss as he fucked him through it, twitching and unsure whether he wanted to squirm away or get closer. He was still impossibly hard, teeming with oversensitivity, but Kaachan didn’t seem to care as he wrapped his hand around his cock and set a pace as unforgiving as his thrusts. 


He was so sensitive, there’s no way, he can’t cum again. It seems like his body didn’t get the memo with the way he was throbbing painfully in Kaachan’s big hand, tears finally spilling over and onto his cheeks. 


He watched the way well defined muscles flexed from the movement of working into tight heat and he was transfixed. Kaachan’s free hand was busy pushing his thighs apart farther, the stretch only adding to more of Izuku’s fuck drunk haze. 


He felt the way Kaachan’s rhythm faltered and knew he was close, but his hand didn’t let up. “There’s no way, I don’t think I can cum again, Kaachan- Katsuki, please, I-“


Kaachan only looked at him with his face screwed up in pleasure. “You will.”


During moments like these his body knew just how to listen. His mind was now preoccupied with Kaachan, desperate to feel him cum. He looked down between their bodies to see the soft outline of Kaachan’s cock moving in his stomach and he nearly lost it at the sight. He pressed a hand on the spot to feel the movement himself. “You’re gonna cum right here.” It was more like a statement full of wonder, deaf to his own ears, but Kaachan definitely heard it with the way he groaned loudly in his ear. 


They were both so close, so ready to feel their thirst satiated for each other it was overwhelming. 


“Deku, fuck you’re so perfect for me.” Kaachan came with a final thrust, and it was when Izuku felt it that his own washed over him. 


They were gross and sticky, both of his releases coating his stomach, but neither wanted to move, too exhausted and boneless to do anything. Izuku finally felt his head defog when Kaachan kissed him softly. He used his shirt that was discarded on the floor to gingerly clean him up, and as much as Izuku enjoyed the attention, he’d much prefer to snuggle together in his arms with that ugly, knitted blanket draped over the back of the coach. 


Kaachan’s voice broke his train of thought. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He sounded worried, scared for a split second that Izuku had any regrets. 


He thought of the time he compared Kaachan to the people who used to make his life a living hell. How they were similar in the way they used their words like a vice. How they overpowered anyone they came into contact with just by simply being there. He feels silly for even attempting to make a connection like that. The soft look of concern and fondness made all the difference.


Izuku offered him a small smile in consolidation. “You’re perfect, Katsuki.”