Izuku returned home after noon. He opened the door sheepishly, even though he knew that Shouto wouldn't be home and he walked quietly to the shower to wash the scent of Katsuki off him. Katsuki's clothes lay in a pile, abandoned but not forgotten. The black, baggy, too soft t-shirt and sweatpants lay staring at him like a monster in the corner.

A reflection of guilt that he didn't know the source of. But Izuku knew.

He spent the rest of the day in a daze, drinking water and popping painkillers. Katsuki didn't message him, and he didn't open WhatsApp.

The front door opened in a similar manner to Izuku's entrance earlier. Shouto wasn't sure if Izuku was home either. Izuku shut his laptop, closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Shouto's footsteps shuffled through the apartment and stopped at the bedroom door when he saw Izuku in bed, apparently asleep.

Izuku heard Shouto sigh and he refused to open his eyes. The shower ran and after some time, the bed sank beside him when Shouto climbed in.

"Izuku." Shouto said quietly. Izuku steadied his breathing and fought the tightening in his ribcage. He wasn't ready to speak to him yet. He couldn't handle the conversation and even though he managed to get Katsuki's scent off his body, he didn't get Katsuki out of his mind. Like a little fluttering, constantly there, sometimes beating wings and Izuku shut it out of his mind as best he could.

"Midoriya, I'm sorry." Shouto said quietly again. Izuku heard him sigh and shift until he was settled in bed. The tightness in his chest pulled at him until tears prickled in his eyes. He reached a hand behind him and found Shouto's waist. He let his hand stay there, soft, but not inviting and then he took his hand back. The pillow below his face was cold on his cheeks from the wetness of his tears.

They fell asleep.

Izuku woke and left the room as quietly as he could. He tucked Katsuki's clothes carefully in his cupboard, still smelling of him with Izuku only having worn it for a couple hours. He found gym clothes and stuffed them silently into the duffle bag. He managed to dress and leave before Shouto woke for his morning routine.

Izuku found it easier than it should have been, to greet everyone with a smile and reassure them that he was doing better today and his little flu was just an allergy attack with the season. Shouto covered for him and Iida did well with the appointments.

Guilt built in his chest until he swallowed and pushed it to the back of his mind.

Nothing happened, nothing would have happened, he just felt guilty.

He didn't know what he felt guilty about. He had ideas, conflicts, thoughts.

He liked spending time with Katsuki. He didn't realise he had, but when he found out that Katsuki had taken care of him, he realised that's what it was.

Katsuki Bakugou was his bully. For years, he was tormented and terrorized and it wasn't in Izuku to hate him. He just admired that Katsuki could do what he couldn't; model. And he was exceptional at it.

But for all the times he was bullied, all he saw was Katsuki's own insecurities and the way he over compensated by being aggressive and mean. So Izuku shrunk away and admired him from a distance. Until Katsuki left him alone and he no longer had a front row seat to how amazing he was, or the little moments in between.

Izuku wished he had the same perseverance, maybe then he would want to open more studios like the Todorokis wanted and maybe then he and Shouto would be fine.

Did he like spending time with Katsuki because he missed admiring the boy, now the man, that he had grown up with? Or was it something else? Katsuki was straight anyway, he was with Ochako.

Izuku shook his head and browsed through the photos Iida had taken yesterday, sorting them into Iida's pile and his own for their edits. He eyed his duffle bag and wondered if maybe he was avoiding going home.

He was avoiding going home more than he was avoiding Katsuki. Because even though the man had lived in his mind constantly since leaving the small apartment yesterday dressed in his clothes, the thought of Katsuki being at the gym didn't cross his mind.

Katsuki wasn't at the gym, and Izuku was relieved. But as the time passed by as he jogged on the treadmill, worry tainted with guilt wracked at his chest, and the tightness wasn't just from his physical strain.

When he stayed half an hour longer than his usual session and his body was screaming for rest because he hadn't been to the gym in a couple weeks, he looked at his phone. Shouto hadn't messaged him and it stung a little that all he had gotten was a semi sorry while he pretended to be asleep. He showered, eyes closed, hot water stinging his skin and drowning the pain of his muscle aches.

Cycling home was a task, but he went slowly. He limped up the staircase and fumbled with the keys, afraid of the end of his relationship on the other side.

He opened the door and met Shouto's heterochromatic eyes. He was sitting at the table that was laid out with food that Izuku could smell but not see properly because the room was in darkness but for three candles on the table top. Shouto's eyes glistened.

"Izuku. I'm sorry." Shouto said. He got to his feet. "I'm so sorry." He took a hesitant step forward and Izuku shut the door behind him then looked at Shouto. He said nothing but he felt strangely detached from the scenario, like he was watching it happen to someone else. He swallowed.

"I'm sorry, too." Izuku said automatically. The words felt hollow. He didn't mean it because this didn't feel like a proper apology. It felt shallow. Something was missing.

"I didn't know if you were coming home tonight." Shouto said, taking another hesitant step forward. "I- saw your clothes were still in your closet and-"

"You went into my closet?" Izuku asked. He felt panic rise in his chest but he swallowed it and was grateful for the dark. He steadied his breathing. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. Stop feeling guilty.

"I- I just wanted to see if you'd taken any of the clothes. If you were leaving me." Shouto said. Izuku saw a tear glint in the candlelight as it clung to his chin.

"I'm not. And I don't agree to more studios either." Izuku said.

"Okay, okay, I agree. You said you didn't want to and I should have listened to you. I'm sorry. We won't do any more, okay?" Shouto said. "I just wanted you to reach for more with me, and I should have listened when you said we have enough."

Izuku felt weight lift off his chest. That's what he wanted to hear. That's all he needed to hear and the air in the room was no longer too hot and suffocating, it was crisp and fresh and tears sprung to his eyes with relief.

Shouto took quicker steps forward now and Izuku met him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his wet eyes into his shoulder. He felt sobs rise in his chest and he let himself feel it all.

"I thought I lost you." Izuku said. A hiccup rose in his throat.

"Never, I'm not going anywhere." Shouto said. His fingers found the back of Izuku's head, skimming the short hair and then weaving into the longer strands as he held Izuku closer to him, as though scared if he let him go, he'd float away and he'd be lost.

"You - hic - made dinner?" Izuku said, his eyes swimming with tears only saw a table set with food out in separate dishes and metal cutlery instead of take-away plastic ones.

"Don't be silly, I just bought some really expensive food." Shouto laughed and pressed his mouth to the top of Izuku's hair. Izuku laughed against his chest, wet and messy, hiccupping and relieved. "I might have to stick it in the microwave, I've been waiting nearly an hour and a half."

"I'm sorry!" Izuku said. Shouto squeezed him tenderly.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm the asshole." Shouto said. He kissed Izuku's head and they held each other until the candle's wax made pillars to the table.

It was easier now, to forget Katsuki and remember all the ways he loved Shouto. Everything was easy again, and his routine of shooting, editing, and going to the gym was reinstated to his life. He didn't see Katsuki again, at the gym or at the studio. His name in WhatsApp got buried under all the others and Izuku didn't have to see his name anymore.

He still couldn't delete Kacchan from his vocabulary, or his phone.

The photos of Katsuki that were carefully set aside to mimic were now deleted from his desktop and the idea of self portraits was diligently replaced by overworking his body at the gym. He found himself spending more time there than necessary and soon his body was rippling from lack of body fat.

The short hair that he enjoyed skimming with his fingers was now long enough to wrap around his fingers, and the shadow of Katsuki's hand on his head faded.

Shouto's hand passed along his head as they lay in bed together, trying to settle for the night. He hummed and Izuku felt it vibrate his body and he smiled against his skin.

"Izuku." Shouto said. Izuku's mind was absentmindedly making a to-do list and ignoring the soreness in his muscles. "Midoriya."

"Hmm?" Izuku answered. Shouto chuckled.

"Can I ask you something?" Shouto said, his long fingers stroking Izuku's hair, tangling the strands and untangling them. Izuku hummed against his chest. "Have you stopped trying to do self portraits?"

Izuku's breath caught in his chest and he swallowed dryly. He forced himself to breathe.

"I- haven't been as interested anymore." Izuku said. "I like being at the gym."

"Don't get me wrong, I like what the gym is doing to you too." Shouto said in a low voice that wound something in the pit of Izuku's abdomen. "I just mean that I hope I didn't scare you." Shouto sounded scared, testy; unsure of how to proceed, but he swallowed audibly and sighed, barrelling on.

"We fought, I said some things, and I thought maybe you took what I said seriously and you stopped doing something you like, because of me." Shouto said quickly. Izuku bent his neck so that he could see him and kept his cheek to Shouto's chest. He frowned.

"I stopped because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with what you said." Izuku said, skimming the truth without lying. Shouto let out a breath that Izuku didn't realise he was holding. Izuku stretched his hand up and pushed Shouto's hair back from his forehead.

Shouto rested his hand and held Izuku's palm to his skin and smiled.

"Will you try again?" Shouto asked.

"Self portraits?" Izuku said.

"Yes."

"I-" Izuku felt words get stuck in his through as Katsuki's name whispered itself into his ear and against his neck, causing his hair to stand on end as though it was real. "I don't have the knack for it."

"You're a photographer silly, your photos are wonderful." Shouto said encouragingly.

"My modelling leaves much to be desired." Izuku said pulling his hand back and curling up more securely to Shouto's side, but mostly so Shouto couldn't see his face as he had felt it contort into an indescribable expression.

Shouto resumed stroking his hair.

"I had the dumbest idea." Shouto said with a short humourless laugh.

"What?" Izuku asked.

"Bakugou could've helped you, if he wasn't such an asshole." Shouto said. Izuku clenched his jaw.

"He's not an asshole." Izuku said before he could stop himself. He didn't want to fight and this felt like lighting the fuse.

"You've told me all the ways he bullied you for years." Shouto said.

Okay, I guess we're having this conversation now, Izuku thought.

"I've told you that he bullied me in the past. I've also explained that's just how he is with everyone. And I have moved past it, so why can't you?" Izuku asked. He clenched a fist, preparing for an explosion.

"I just don't see how you can just be normal with him. After he told you to jump off a roof. Someone who says that is a vile human being, and he said it to the most important person in my life. Past or not." Shouto said.

"He said it knowing I would never. He said it because he hates himself." Izuku said. "Now you're almost a bully yourself because you don't understand him."

Shouto swallowed. Izuku could hear his heartbeat pounding but they weren't moving, or pulling away from each other. Izuku thought that was progress. Maybe the fuse was cut before it reached the bomb.

"Todo, I just mean, it's such a waste of energy. And it's not like we see him often enough for it to matter. He's Kacchan, a person from my childhood, and things are in the past." Izuku said. "Plus, you forgave your dad and he was your biggest bully."

"It's not the same thing." Shouto said quickly.

"I didn't say it was, I just mean that we all have the things in our past that we can benefit from just letting it go. Waste no more negative energy and just be happy." Izuku said.

"I'll try to let it go. I'll be civil. It would take some time. And you're right, we don't see him much anyway." Shouto said. There was a moment of silence, Katsuki's frame flashed through his mind like the flashes of light while snapping photographs of his toned body.

"Kacchan is taking a break from modelling." Izuku said. He realised too late he had said something he couldn't justify knowing.

"Ochako told you?" Shouto said. Izuku breathed a sigh of relief.

"She did in an email, in case we wondered. I guess." Izuku said lamely. Shouto accepted his response without question. They fell asleep.

Izuku was at home alone the next day as Shouto visited his mother. While he was shoving clothes into the closets after washing them, Katsuki's clothes peeked at him from the corner. A smokey smell just barely lingered through the scent of his own newly washed clothes and he hesitated.

When all his clothes were neatly in their designated spots, he pulled the clothes from its perch and held it on his lap. He scrolled through his Whatsapp and his finger hovered over Kacchan.

Kacchan

' last seen yesterday at 21:09'

He closed the app, shoved the clothes back into the cupboard and resisted the urge to hug them to his chest. With a grunt of frustration, he packed gym clothes and a towel, messaged Shouto he was going to the gym, and cycled furiously.

He couldn't outpace his thoughts.