Izuku was still held in place by Kacchan's gaze, and all he could manage in response to his question was a feeble shake of the head.

It was all the response Kacchan needed.

With grace, strength and speed befitting the Number 1 Hero, Kacchan lifted Izuku over his shoulder and relocated to his bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Kacchan set him on his bed, and Izuku fell on his back. He watched as Kacchan lost no time in taking off his shirt. It was every bit as glorious as Izuku's fingers had told him it would be. What's more, he had started growing wisps of blond along his stomach and up to his chest.

Izuku reached out to touch the hairs, enjoying the sight of Kacchan's muscles flexing beneath his touch.

Reluctantly, Izuku pulled his hands away in order to remove his own shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room, and not caring at all where it landed.

Kacchan frowned.

Now, it didn't take much to agitate Kacchan, Izuku knew that better than anyone, but he was confused (and a little self-conscious) as to what could be causing it right now.

"What is it?" Izuku asked him.

Kacchan got onto the bed above Izuku and leaned over him. His eyes were fixed on Izuku's chest, and he began tracing along the myriad of scars scattered across his torso.

"I see you never figured out how to keep yourself in one damn piece," Kacchan muttered.

Izuku trembled at the feather light touches across his body.

"They look a lot worse than they were," he said quietly.

Kacchan looked down at him, unconvinced. Then after a moment, he captured his lips again, more fervently than before. Izuku kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Kacchan's back, pulling him even closer.

Izuku's dick was throbbing so badly, and it was sweet relief when Kacchan finally freed it from its constraints.

"Agh!" a strangled moan escaped Izuku's lips when Kacchan used the precum oozing down his dick to begin stroking him. They were soft, gentle strokes at first, but quickly picked up in pace and force.

Good God it had been so long, and Izuku felt an orgasm fast approaching. That was not good—Kacchan would never let him live that down.

Izuku pushed Kacchan off and backwards on the bed, so that their positions were now reversed. Izuku was straddling Kacchan, staring down at his shocked face.

"The hell are you—"

He kissed Kacchan to silence his impending protest. This type of situation was just about the only time he could ever get Kacchan to listen to him.

"I want to," he whispered in the blond's ear, smiling at the small tremor he felt as a result.

Izuku kissed his way down Kacchan's jawline, his jugular, his collar bone, his chest, his stomach, and all the way down to just beneath his belly button.

His hands skillfully undid Kacchan's pants and freed his erection from his underwear.

Had it grown in the last 6 years?

Izuku eyed the appendage, seriously wondering. It was long, thick, and more perfect than he remembered. He wasted no more time. Parting his lips wide enough, Izuku took the tip of Kacchan's dick in his mouth, swirling his tongue along the underside where he liked it.

Kacchan hissed in pleasure, throwing his head back and grabbing Izuku's hair roughly. He relished in the mild pain and responded by lowering his head further down Kacchan's length.

The hiss became a groan, and after a few slow dips for lubrication, Izuku bobbed his head up and down at a fast rhythm. Kacchan, still gripping his hair, helped Izuku along, tugging and pushing however he wanted. His breaths were heavy and ragged, and served as fuel for Izuku's motions.

The feeling of his hard dick slamming into the back of his throat was driving Izuku crazy, and he made no attempts to stop the resulting gagging noises.

Kacchan's hand suddenly stopped him, holding Izuku's head down on his dick. The green-eyed man looked up and met Kacchan's gaze.

"Hold it," he growled.

Pressure and pain were building around the obstruction in his throat, and just when his air supply was beginning to run out, Kacchan slowly slid Izuku's mouth up and let him catch his breath. Keeping eye contact the entire way up, Izuku basked in the expression of raw desire on Kacchan's face.

He held Izuku's head an inch above his dick, smirking as he gasped for air and flicked the tip with his tongue.

"C'mere," Bakugou let go of his hair and gently guided Izuku so that he was straddling him once more. He then reached over to the nightstand beside his bed and grabbed the small bottle of hand lotion that was there, squirting some of it onto his fingers.

It wasn't ideal, but it was preferable to stopping.

Izuku let out a sharp gasp as Kacchan reached around and gently inserted one finger inside, then two, stretching around the rim. After so many years, it hurt a little. Kacchan carefully stretched and circuled and waited until Izuku was fully acclimated before moving on.

"Kacchan…"

He took the hint, and let Izuku angle himself over the hardness that was pressing up against his ass. Izuku's head fell back and the cry trying to escape got caught in his throat when he was stretched open for the first time in years.

Kacchan's dick opened his entrance just enough for the tip, and he stopped, waiting for Izuku to adjust.

"Fuck," Kacchan grabbed the small of his waist, "you gotta relax. It's tight as hell."

"Nnn…" was the only sound Izuku could make.

He took a deep breath in, and tried to do what Kacchan said, the latter didn't seem to be feeling very patient.

"I'm going to keep going," he warned, pushing Izuku to sink further onto his cock.

Pain and pressure threatened to rip Izuku apart. It was like their first time all over again.

Except it wasn't.

The added benefit of experience made it so that Kacchan knew how to angle his hips just so.

"Aah!" Izuku covered his mouth to control his outburst.

Amidst the pain, pleasure skyrocketed forward.

"Good," the blond smirked, lifting Izuku up slowly and bring him back down roughly at the same angle.

Izuku saw lights, his scream muffled in his hands. He was going to come. A few more moves like that, and there would be no helping it.

"Kaccha-aan!" another slam, "wait, I—ahn!"

"Go ahead, Deku."

Mercilessly, Kacchan began bucking his hips up to fuck Deku at a rapid-fire rate that immediately sent him over the edge.

Izuku leaned forward, digging into Kacchan's shoulders to brace himself, and buried his cries in his neck. His dick rubbed between the skin of his and Kacchan's stomach, and he burst. Even as Izuku felt the pumps of his orgasm, and cum shot onto their stomachs, Kacchan didn't slow down in the slightest.

Ecstatic agony knotted in Izuku's stomach, and he writhed with sensitivity.

Leaving one hand on Izuku's hips, Kacchan brought the other to rest atop the green mass, and continued to thrust his hips urgently.

"God Deku, you feel…" he grunted into his ear, "I'm almost there."

And then he was still, tensing against Izuku and holding him tight to his body. Izuku felt the strong pulses of Kacchan's orgasm when it filled him up, and he reveled in it. They stayed like that until the surges died down.

When he was ready, Izuku rolled off of Kacchan and onto the narrow bed beside him.

Then, his mental faculties returned in full, and where unbridled euphoria had just been, anxiety and confusion now resided.

"Kacchan…" he began warily, "what hap—"

A blaring alarm suddenly rang from Kacchan's phone, and Izuku recognized it to be a distress call.

Kacchan hopped out of bed, tucking his dick back in his pants, and grabbed his shirt. He reached for his phone.

"Fuck," he cursed as he scrolled, "I gotta go."

He didn't wait for Izuku's response before he was headed out the door.

"Wait! I'll come—"

Izuku took one foot out of bed and a glob of semen rolled out of his ass.

He sighed. This is why he used to make Kacchan wear condoms.

He heard the front door close, and got up so that he could get cleaned up before going to try and help. But the question that he had been trying to ask hadn't left him.

"What happens now?"

Izuku paced nervously around the next day. It was evening, close to the time when Kacchan usually arrived, and he honestly had no idea what to expect when he got here.

What was he going to say? How was he going to act? What if—

A horrible thought creeped in.

What if he didn't show at all?

What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to go and mess things up? They'd just gotten to a point where they could have a regular conversation again.

The pull that Kacchan had over him was unfair. He'd broken up with him because of the one-sidedness of their relationship. He had no idea what, if anything, last night meant for the other man. If it really had been as long for Kacchan as it had been for Izuku, maybe it had been a one-time thing. Maybe he had just been a familiar, convenient, available option.

He was always available for Kacchan—that was part of the problem.

Izuku's thoughts were interrupted by the violent pounding on his front door.

"Open up shitty nerd!"

Well, he was here. And he sounded fine.

Izuku moved to let him in and, when he opened the door, took note of the fact that he had his usual bag of groceries with him. Kacchan made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

"Hey Kacchan," Izuku greeted. He was back to feelings of awkwardness once more.

But he wasn't the same as he'd been in high school. He was a grown man, damn it.

"Um, Kacchan," he spoke more quietly than he meant to, "I think we should talk about—"

The loud clanks of pots and pans drowned out his mousey volume, and Kacchan looked over his shoulder.

"Hah?" he raised a brow, "you sayin' something?"

Izuku swallowed and cleared his throat.

"It's, um, about last night," he said with a little more conviction.

Kacchan didn't pause in his preparations as he listened.

"I think we have to talk about it," Izuku explained.

Kacchan opened his mouth to say something when Inko suddenly came into the room.

Izuku internally groaned at his mother's unfortunate timing, and resisted the urge to vocalize it.

"Hi sweetie," she beamed, "Oh! And hello Katsuki! Thank you for all the wonderful meals these last few weeks. I'm sorry to put you out."

"Mom, you already thanked Kacchan 5 times," Izuku went to his mother's side and aided her to the dining room table, but she shooed him away.

"I'm fine, Izuku," she made her own way to the chair, "I have to be able to move on my own. You're leaving tomorrow, after all."

She had a point there.

Izuku joined his mother at the dinner table, and made the effort not to think at all about what was going on with Kacchan and him.

Dinner was ready and on the table soon enough. As they ate and chatted, Ink and Kacchan exchanged embarrassing stories of a young Izuku, who (used to this treatment) just ate in quiet enjoyment.

"Are you sure you couldn't stay just one more week?" Inko asked toward the end of the meal. "It's been so nice having you back."

"After a month away, I'm a little afraid of what the agency will look like when I get back," Izuku laughed.

"If your sidekicks are too shitty to handle a month without you," Kacchan stabbed at his food, "fire their sorry asses."

Izuku smiled.

"I'm sure they're fine, but still—"

"Oh! I know," Inko interrupted with a knowing smile, "you want to get back to Melissa."

If Izuku had been chewing on anything, he would've started choking.

"N-no, Mom, that's not it at all," he insisted.

"I know how it is, Izuku," Inko nudged sweetly, "a month away from someone you care about is a long time."

Inadvertently, his eyes found Kacchan's, who was looking back at him. He knew that statement to be all too true.

"He doesn't have anyone he cares about," Kacchan suddenly declared. "He isn't dating Melissa. Never was."

"Kacchan!" Izuku's eyes widened in shock and anger, and he turned to his mother, who was blinking in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Katsuki, I think you're mistaken," Inko said politely, "I saw them together myself. Izuku told me."

"Yeah, well he lied to you," a shot of icy rage shot through Izuku, "'cause he's a coward afraid to tell you the truth."

Izuku had been angry with Kacchan before, but never quite like he was now, especially when Inko turned to face him.

"Izuku," her voice was laced with genuine concern, "is this true?"

For a brief second, Izuku considered denying it, but ultimately, he resigned.

"I'm sorry mom," he finally relented, "I didn't mean to lie—but when you thought I had someone, you seemed to worry less about me."

Izuku looked down at the table, unable to meet his mother's eye.

"I told myself I'd never make you worry again."

"Oh, sweetie," Inko reached over and grabbed one of his hands with both of hers, "You're my baby. You could be the Number 1 Hero in the world, and I'd always worry about you, but you don't ever have to pretend with me."

She rubbed his hands lovingly and waited for him to finally look her in the eye.

"Okay?" she beckoned.

"Okay," he half-smiled. "Sorry, Mom."

She patted his hand one last time before letting go.

"Well the drowsiness from my medicine is kicking in," she rose slowly to her feet, "I'd better go lie down."

"Let me help you," Izuku began to rise, but she swatted him away again.

"I'm fine," she insisted, walking toward her room, "I have to do it on my own, remember?"

And she did just that, leaving Izuku alone at the table with Kacchan. As soon as he heard the sound of her bedroom door closing, he rounded on Kacchan.

"What the hell!" he demanded.

Kacchan shrugged, unmoved.

"Somebody had to tell her the truth."

"Well that somebody wasn't you!" Izuku fumed.

Kacchan gathered the empty dinner plates and rose to his feet.

"You should be thanking me for doing your dirty work," he walked to the sink, "since you're too much of a fucking wimp to do it yourself."

Izuku's mouth opened and closed a few times, at a complete loss for words for a second. He rose to his feet and followed Kacchan to the kitchen.

"This is unbelievable," he paused, "wait. No, actually, it's not. This is exactly like you. 6 years and you haven't changed at all."

Kacchan stopped and turned to Izuku, giving him his full attention.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" his red eyes glared down in a sneer.

"That you're the same overbearing bully who never cares about anyone's feelings but his own."

The words left Izuku before he could stop them, but he didn't back down. Not even as Kacchan's look turned downright murderous, and he pulled himself up to his full height to tower over Izuku.

"Says the guy who claims to love someone, just to turn around and disappear; for 6 years."

Izuku blinked, stunned.

What the hell did he mean by that?

"Do you have a concussion from one of your own explosions?" he questioned, "You're the one who just stood there and didn't say anything—and then changed up the whole plan we had made."

Kacchan was less than a foot away, looming over him intimidatingly, but he stood up straight himself.

"I didn't tell you to leave the whole fucking country!" his voice was close to a snarl.

"I had to!" Izuku said heatedly, "I had to get over you. I was pouring my everything into you and couldn't get you to love me back! Convincing myself to leave you was the hardest thing I've ever done, and it hurt. I thought Hokkaido would be far enough, but it was hard seeing your name, your face, your everything plastered on the news, talking about how amazing you were. I knew how amazing you were! I've always known."

Izuku only paused to catch his breath.

"So yeah," he went on, "I had to leave. I had to put an ocean between us to try and forget about you, and the fact that you would never really be mine. And guess what? It still didn't work! All it took was one kiss, and I'm 5 years old again, chasing after you."

Izuku took in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his own hair, frustratedly. For the first time Izuku could recall, Kacchan looked completely floored.

It was at this exact moment in time that Izuku realized something: he would always want Kacchan. It didn't matter how far away or how many miles they were from each other. He was Kacchan's—even if Kacchan didn't feel the same way.

"Deku—"

"This was a mistake,' Izuku cut over his words and took a step back, "all of this. I was an idiot to think we could just move on and be friends. We were never really friends to begin with. I was just someone who didn't know when to quit chasing you."

Izuku wrung his fingers and tried to fight back tears. The revelation hit Izuku as he spoke the words. He felt an empty vacuum start in his chest and sink to the put of his stomach. He turned away, unable to bring himself to face Kacchan.

"I'm tired of chasing after you, Kacchan. I give up, you win."

"Deku, you shit, listen—"

"Katsuki."

The shock of Inko's voice drew both of the men's attention to the hallway entrance, where she stood. She was looking firmly at the blond.

"I think you should leave."

"Auntie, I—"

"Go home, Katsuki,' she walked forward and put her arms around Izuku's back, guiding him toward the couch, "Izuku needs time."

Her voice bore no ill-will, but neither did it leave room for objection.

Izuku watched as Kacchan grit his teeth, looking from him, to Inko, then back to him. He watched him for what felt like an eternity before finally grabbing his things and walking out the front door.

Izuku sat with his mother on the couch, face in his hands, and elbows resting on his knees.

"Sweetie," her voice was gentle as she rubbed his back, "remember what I said earlier tonight about not having to pretend with me?"

Izuku peeked over at her and nodded.

She tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

"I'm listening."

So, he told his mom everything, and of course, she offered him nothing but support.

"Well honey, what do you want to do about it?" she asked gingerly, "I've never known you to give up on anything you had your heart set on."

Izuku contemplated the truth of those words, but he couldn't bring himself to do it anymore. People had been telling him for years that he had to learn to acknowledge his limits.

He was at his limit.

"I'm just going to go home," he decided. "I'll be fine. It's like you said, I just need time."

Even as he said it, he wasn't fully sure he believed it. But the only thing he could do was hope to God that one day, it would be true.

The following morning, Izuku was in the airport, making his way through lines, crowds, and security checks.

He was at the gate now, waiting to board, and so pulled out his phone to make a call.

"Hello?" the female voice on the other end answered.

"Hi Auntie," Izuku tried to sound cheerful, "How are you?"

"Oh, Izuku!" Mitsuki exclaimed, "Hi! I'm good. Is everything alright? How's Inko?"

"Everything's fine, she's doing much better. I was just calling to say thank you for all the food this month," he explained. "You saved my mom and me from a month of convenience store food."

Izuku had meant to drop by in person to thank her, but after last night, didn't want even the slightest risk of running into Kacchan.

"Eh?" Mitsuki sounded confused, "Food? What are you talking about?"

Now Izuku was confused.

"The food that Kacchan brought over every night?" he clarified, "he even cooked it."

"Oh? That brat made himself useful? I'm glad to hear it." Mitsuki laughed, "And I'm also glad to hear Inko is doing better. I'll go visit her soon."

Izuku blinked, trying to connect the dots. Clearly, Mitsuki had nothing to do with the food.

"She'd like that," he said absentmindedly.

"Now boarding Flight XXXX to JFK."

That was him.

"I got to go, Auntie," he stood up.

"Okay Izuku! Have a safe flight—don't let another 5 years go by!"

He only smiled, a smile she couldn't see, as he walked toward the gate.

"Take care."

He ended the call.

Why would Kacchan lie about bringing over food?

Izuku stood in the line to board the plane, and for some reason looked back. He didn't know why, but a small, irrational part of him was hoping to see Kacchan there.

Pangs of unwarranted disappointment stabbed at Izuku, and he turned back to walk onto the bridge.

He never learned, did he?

It'd be a cold day in hell before Bakugou Katsuki chased after anyone.

Izuku boarded the plane to go home, wiping away fresh tears.

END

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