This was supposed to be light angst, but it ended up as a super angst monster I am so sorry (not really)

FYI, I'm using Bakugou's official hero name of "Dynamight" instead of the usual Ground Zero. Yeah, so just a heads up.

This is my first fic in a while, so go hit me with your reviews.

Chapter 1

Midoriya Izuku never really liked drinking alcohol.

Honestly, he only drank when he hung out with friends or during the yearly get-togethers of their class. Still, other than that, he avoided it entirely. Blame his childish tastebuds, but he never liked the burn of shots or the bitter kick of beer.

But, when things got terrible– losing a civilian during rescue ops or hostage situations went awry– Izuku found himself staring down the bottom of a bottle (or, on some days, bottles).

Today though, rather than a bottle, he stared down at the envelope lying on his kitchen counter as he downed another shot of vodka. The more he looked at it, the more he wished for a quirk that could set things he sees–hates, but no, he can't hate because that's such an ugly emotion– on fire.

Izuku couldn't help but laugh at the situation he found himself in. Never in a million years did he expect to be one of those people, but of course, who was he kidding? He knew exactly what was on this path when he started on it.

Still, it didn't erase the fact that it hurt.

The words looked so sickeningly innocent, splattered on a piece of paper. But each stroke was like a punch in the gut, and each word a hammer that brought him to his knees.

He downed another shot, already opening another bottle, not noticing– choosing not to– how his eyes burned and his cheeks soaked. Izuku prefers to think that some of the vodka spilled instead of acknowledging the lump in his throat or the squeezing in his chest.

The warm feeling of alcohol spread through him, cloaking him in a daze which he latched onto. This was why he was drinking, after all.

To avoid the pain, the hurt, the reality of Katsuki–his but not his Kacchan never loving him back.

It made him want to scream until his voice was gone, to sob and wail until there were no more tears left, to just plead and ask every god in existence out there–

Why?

3 years ago

The first time Izuku heard the rumor, he had just finished patrolling, ready to get out of his hero gear and go home.

Well, alright, he didn't actually explicitly hear it but more like overheard (not eavesdrop) hushed whispers in the break room. Usually, he didn't really pay to mind such things. He was already getting ready to hit the showers when the words' Dynamight' and 'dating' stopped him in his tracks.

It's really not his fault that he has super-hearing when it comes to anything about Kacchan.

While Izuku's not exactly the 'best' at stealth, he was Pro-Hero Deku, now 3rd in the rankings. So if he suddenly had a craving for coffee which, oh my, was available in the break room, that wouldn't be suspicious, right?

Smiling and greeting the group huddled over a tablet, he headed over to the coffee maker, starting it up (and maybe tilted his body towards the group, who can say).

"Oh, wow, I can't believe it! Are you sure that's real?" A person from HR– or was it Legal– squealed, their eyes glued to the tablet. Another huffed at the comment before swiping at the screen.

"Of course it's real! I mean, look at these pictures! Who else could explode the lens of the camera, like that?"

"Well, maybe they did that on purpose to sell the story? Though, if it is photoshopped, they did a pretty good job with his trademark scowl."

It hasn't been a minute, and Izuku was already brimming with curiosity. He itched to use OFA just to head over real quick (which is really such a misuse of his quirk, sorry, All Might).

Honestly, he's more curious about the other part of the rumor.

As if reading his thoughts, one (bless their soul) pointed at the screen, "Man, his date's hot, though!"

"You sure it's a date though? I mean, for all we know she's a classmate or something."

"Idiot, Dynamight went to UA. How could someone who's not a hero even be his classmate? She's definitely a date."

At this point, Izuku's mind was processing tons of information at once, maybe at the fastest pace he's ever done in his life.

So, Kacchan was probably dating someone, who was most likely a girl with dark hair, maybe long legs, and sharp cheekbones because, of course, Kacchan wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, which is why he would never choose Izu–

Woah, okay, not the time or the place to go down that rabbit hole, Izuku. He mentally slaps himself. You're on a mission here.

As naturally as someone who is definitely not eavesdropping, he headed over to one of the cupboards to get a mug which was, coincidentally, by the group. 'Looking' for one, he strained his ears to hear the group, who were still (thankfully) gossiping.

"Well, okay, but why the presumption that it's a date, though? I mean, they could just be friends or maybe a coworker?"

The person-probably-from-HR-or-Legal snorted and swiped again, "Friends or coworkers don't exactly look at each other like that do they?"

No longer able to stop his curiosity, Izuku peeked over his shoulder to finally see whatever tabloid fake news it was so he can finally rest easy and go home and– oh.

It was a picture.

It was most likely taken from a car outside and zoomed in so much that it was almost too blurry to discern the subjects from the angle.

Emphasis on the 'almost.'

From the striking blonde hair to the crimson eyes, Izuku knew it was Kacchan. He knew– God, he wished he didn't– from the furrow in his brow, the almost permanent sneer on his face, and his guarded stance.

Because at the same time, he couldn't recognize him– his childhood friend, his idol, his rival, the love of his life. The picture was taken haphazardly, as if in a rush, but the message was clear.

They were sitting by the window, the candle on their table enveloping them in a warm glow. It looked like Kacchan was in the middle of insulting something– by the way his eyes were narrowed– but any irritation appeared to melt away when she reached over the table and held his hands. Even as just a picture, Izuku could see the tension that was building up roll away, his eyes that usually had intense heat settling into a simmer, his brows less furrowed, and his sneer turning into more of a pout.

"Oh, wow... I can't believe Dynamight can make that expression too."

Izuku really should've just gone home.

The second time he heard about it was 3 months later (not that Izuku mulled over the article and photos since then, no, he most definitely did not).

This time, instead of hearing it from a group of gossiping coworkers, he heard it from the most unexpected source.

"Her name's Fujiko."

Frankly, he thinks that choking on his ramen is a pretty warranted reaction when the love of your life suddenly springs on you the name of the person they're dating. Seriously dating, a voice in his mind mockingly added, which he was too busy choking to shush away.

"Ack–" He coughs, reaching for a glass of water which Kacchan had already shoved in his face, expecting the reaction. It took a couple gulps of water (and maybe an inner mantra of keeping calm that he's mastered over the years) before he could– dared to ask.

"Um, uh... who?"

Kacchan snorted, taking a sip of beer, "Really, Deku? Taking the oblivious route now? I know you've seen the shitty tabloids." Izuku opened his mouth to protest because no, I don't read those because I am definitely not updated on the dinner date you had last week but quickly shut it under Kacchan's glare.

They remained silent for a while, with Izuku fidgeting and being a nervous wreck because he was literally caught red-handed on being curious about his crush's– friend's love life, which he guesses is pretty normal behavior and warranted, so maybe it's okay to keep asking and not be awkward about it like it is now and but what if he gets found out–

"Ugh, stop the muttering already, nerd!" Kacchan growled, slamming his beer glass on the table. That earned a glare from the owner, which Izuku sheepishly apologized for.

"Sorry Kacchan! It's just that uh... I don't really– we don't really talk about stuff like this? I mean, not that I don't want to, of course! We are friends after all so we have a kind of societal obligation to share our romantic endeavors with each other. But, I mean I'm not saying we owe each other–oomf!"

Kacchan shoves a dumpling in his mouth, "Just shut your mouth, eat, and I'll do the talking you rambling nerd."

He dutifully shuts his mouth after that, not that he had any other choice since he had to chew the dumpling, and Midoriyas never waste food.

So he focuses entirely on Kacchan (when has he ever not), who in turn clears his throat and looks away. The lighting in their booth might've been flickering because it was either that or Kacchan was blushing.

Izuku's betting on the fickle lighting.

"Her name's Fujiko. I met her at a dojo that one of the shelter kids go to– you know, the really annoying one. I only went there a couple times to pick the kid up 'cause the usual help at the shelter got a fucking cold," Kacchan grumbled, "Honestly, I barely talked to her. You know how it is with civilians, Deku. I got no patience for the stupid staring and ass-kissing."

Izuku couldn't help but smile, seeing through the faux annoyance Kacchan put up. While he did hate the fangirling of some, the blonde loved volunteering at the shelter and taking care of the kids (even though he would most likely throttle Izuku if he said that).

He and Kacchan had started up the shelter a few years back when juvenile crime rates reached an all-time high. It had been a tough time in their career because they had to– no matter how much his instincts screamed at him– subdue frightened and lost kids like they were villains.

The idea came to them when an accident in the field led to Kacchan holding Izuku as he cried and wailed over the broken body of the child who society labeled as a villain. It took some haggling (threatening, on Kacchan's part). Still, after so much red tape from both the Commission and many many government departments, they finally got the green for it.

For Izuku, he saw it as an opportunity to help as much as he could. He loved volunteering on his days off, yes, but he knew it was something special to Kacchan. Though the blonde would never admit it, he knew that Kacchan saw himself– the younger, arrogant bully– in the kids. Even after so many hushed apologies over the years, he knew that Kacchan sees it as a cross he'll bear for the rest of his life.

(And how badly Izuku wanted to carry that with him but knew this was one he couldn't)

He had long finished eating but knew better than interrupt the blonde's tirade (no matter how much his heart was screaming at him to stop him stop this walk away, don't listen).

After all, he could never not listen to Kacchan.

"After like, the 3rd time? Or was it the 4th time? What the fucking ever. Anyway, it turned out that the annoying little shit kid volunteered me to spar with her, because 'she'd kick my ass'," Katsuki scoffed. "And I never turn away from a fucking challenge– you know that Deku– so I took her on. And..."

God, what Izuku would've done– would've offered to be the one that places that fond (almost lovestruck, a voice whispered) look on Kacchan's face. To be the one who smooths over the scowl on his face with just a hold of his hand. He would've offered his soul, his quirk, to be the one.

(But he can't, and he knows that)

"Well," Kacchan clears his throat, the tip of his ears still red, "that's the whole fucking story nerd. And I'm gonna twist your neck if you expect me to call you at night and share fucking 'romantic endeavors' like a pair of teenagers."

Izuku couldn't help but laugh at that, his eyes disappearing into crescents. "Of course not, Kacchan, we're not kids," he grinned playfully, "I'm expecting you to send me memes and rants about it, because we are adults."

It's already a reflex when he dodges the dumpling thrown at him, laughing at the swears and threats the blonde muttered at him.

For the rest of the night, they talked and caught up with each other. Kacchan proudly boasted about his capture rate in the past weeks. At the same time, Izuku went on a tirade about the various villain quirks he had to work around during his missions.

Like all the other nights they spend like this, Izuku allows himself to be happy. Just tonight, just like this, let's pretend he's mine, and nothing else matters outside of this.

After spending a good few hours at the bar, they finally called it a night. They walked together, occasionally bumping shoulders and brushing hands (which sent tingles and warmth through Izuku). When they were about to go their separate ways, the blonde lingered, obviously mulling over something.

"Kacchan?"

In the dimly lit street, he couldn't clearly see Kacchan's expression. Though even if he could have, he wasn't sure if he could understand it. One second, there was too much of everything, and the next, there was nothing.

"De–Izuku, you... You're really okay with it?" Kacchan whispered, and Izuku didn't realize how close the other had gotten. He had to tilt his head and meet crimson eyes that he could never read in all the years he's spent with him.

He didn't need to ask what he was referring to. Even with the stories and laughter, Izuku's mind betrayed him all night by recalling tabloid pictures of the dates, Kacchan's soft expression, and her name in his mind.

Looking at Kacchan now, he knew–didn't know why– that he can stop this.

He can stop the dates, the pictures in restaurants and theaters, the holding hands and kisses with one word. And Izuku was so so tempted to reach out and take the reins that Kacchan–that Katsuki's giving him. If he was weaker and maybe a little more selfish, then he could've pulled and never let go.

But then he remembers the soft expressions, the easy smiles, and the gentle voices. And, no, never.

So he puts on and gives the most earnest smile he could, covering up any cracks because he could never– must never show Bakugou Katsuki anything less than his support.

"Yeah... I'm really happy for you, Kacchan."

It wasn't like one of those cliché moments on TV where the feeling hits like a punch to the chest, and a warm bubbly feeling spreads through their body.

No, Izuku wouldn't describe love that way. Honestly, romantic flicks exaggerate too much.

If it was up to him, he'd be frank about it.

Realizing he was in love was a process– one that he didn't know was happening until he'd already gone through it. Love was a concept, an emotion that couldn't be grasped by mind power alone. It carried too much weight and complexity to be immediately understood by a person.

This is why it took a good few years for him to properly place it and another grueling couple of years to accept it.

If he could pinpoint a particular point in his life when the process started, it would have been after their big fight. Finally expressing his feelings of frustration and sadness at Bakugou Katsuki and the blonde returning them was like a door was unlocked.

Now, Izuku could've chosen to never open that door and remain in the safe room of friendship and rivalry. Life would've been much simpler if he had the common sense to deadlock the door and turn away.

But who was he kidding? Common sense was never in the equation when it came to Kacchan.

So, like all the other fools in the history of humankind, he opened the door and god, how badly he wanted to look back and regret (and maybe Detroit Smash himself), but couldn't.

Because Midoriya Izuku could never regret falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki.

"To me, you were an amazing, inspiring person... who was even closer to me than All Might! And because of that, I always..."

He could never regret how he opened himself up and offered everything to his childhood friend, rival, and idol; his star.

Because falling in love with Kacchan was like tasting chocolate for the first time, like basking in the sun after a lifetime in darkness. He knew the world was still the same, but at the same time, shifted because, oh, this is love.

So yeah, maybe those romantic movies somehow had a point, but Izuku still thinks kissing in the rain is a weird thing to do because how could they even not think of getting sick after willingly soaking themselves instead of doing the sensible thing of kissing under an umbrella or maybe at home–

And, maybe he understands the appeal after imagining him and Kacchan under the rain and in each other's arms, but still.

As much as he loved to analyze everything, this was one of the things he had to pack in a box and lock away. Not because he was afraid (he was), but because he knew better than most that pursuing this was not ideal.

Deku and Dynamight breathed and lived for the goal of reaching the top, to be the Symbol of Hope and Victory. To be number one. To win to save, and save to win.

And Izuku would give up his quirk before he lets himself become a distraction– a hindrance to that.

Bottles of sake and vodka littered the coffee table, with only the light of the muted TV illuminating the room. All windows and curtains were drawn shut, with some clothes strewn all over the floor.

A trail of liquor bottles followed into the kitchen, with Izuku slumped over the kitchen island, clutching an empty glass. Amidst the chaos around him was a surprisingly clean spot where a torn envelope and a card lay.

The card was standard and straightforward, so much so that one could almost overlook the words printed on it.

"You are cordially invited to Bakugou Katsuki and Takashima Fujiko's wedding on the 15th of July. You fuckers better RSVP and follow the dress code or I'm gonna explode your extra faces."

The quote here is from Chapter 119 of the manga.

There's not as much dialogue as I wanted, but meh I guess this is fine. I'm hesitant about the pacing, but the timeskips are necessary anyway.

Sorry (but not really) once again for this dive into angsty waters. Next chapter will be in 2 weeks, or one if I'm feeling good.