Izuku sighed at the sight of Shindo sprawled on the couch, his head tipped back to avoid bleeding all over it. Izuku placed a frozen bag of strawberries on his swelling nose as lightly as possible. Shindo still winced. Serves him right, Izuku thought, and then immediately felt bad about it.
"What were you thinking?" Izuku asked as he rounded the couch and sat next to him. The action jostled Shindo enough to make him groan into the strawberries.
"I wasn't," Shindo said, lamely.
"I don't believe that for a second."
"That's your prerogative. I don't feel like being scolded right now though. A broken nose seems like good enough punishment for being an idiot."
"I'm not going to scold you," Izuku said, his voice breaking as an immense sadness blanketed the room. Whatever was coming next, it felt like an ending.
"Just let me get some of this swelling down, and I'll head out."
"That's it?" Izuku expected more fight from Shindo. They were always fighting about something.
"I just got my shit rocked and I can't breathe through my nose. I don't want to fight right now." Shindo tried to sigh, but it sounded more like a wet, whistling cough.
"Are you mad at me, though?" Izuku wasn't sure why he asked that. It felt like Shindo was mad at him. What he really wanted to know was why he was mad, because none of this was Izuku's fault.
"A little. Mostly, I'm mad at myself," he said, resignation thick in his tone. He finally sat up properly to look at Izuku, still clutching the bag to his face. "I feel like I haven't been myself in a long time, and I need to get back to that."
Izuku nodded, solemn. "You're better than… whatever this was," he said, gesturing vaguely to Shindo's battered face.
You're better than me, so much better than I deserve, Izuku thought, getting misty eyed.
"This was a momentary lapse in sanity, but it's helping me see a little clearer. I think we need some time apart."
"I know. This really isn't working."
"You're still my best friend. You know that, right?"
"Only because you're too good to me," Izuku said, tears beginning to spill. Shindo pulled him into a one-armed hug, and there was absolutely nothing romantic about it. Izuku felt like a page turning, a chapter closing.
"Take care of yourself, alright?"
Izuku only nodded because if he spoke, he knew he'd lose what little control he had, and start sobbing. He really didn't want Shindo to have to deal with his tears. He was far too good and gracious and kind for Izuku to put him through anymore of that.
—
Izuku wanted to die of embarrassment. He was sitting on the couch eating cereal for dinner because he and Shindo ended two days ago and he already couldn't be bothered to take care of himself properly. He nearly dropped the bowl of discolored milk when he saw a video of Shindo and Kacchan fighting. The video had been making the rounds on social media, of course, but Izuku had avoided watching it. He was afraid to watch it, really, because the secondhand embarrassment might be too much for him to handle. He had to say, for two top heroes in the prime of their lives, it was a spectacularly shitty fight. Aside from Shindo's surprise punch to Kacchan's jaw, and his retaliating punch that broke Shindo's nose, the fight was a lot of flapping hands, shirt pulling, and childish shoving. He couldn't believe it warranted enough attention to be put in the local news—it must've been a slow week for villains. Instead of hearing what the newscasters had to say, he called Kacchan. It rang twice before he picked up.
"Izuku?"
"You're a dumbass," Izuku said in lieu of a greeting. "I'm so fucking angry at you two."
Kacchan groaned. "Would it make it better or worse if I say he started it?"
"Worse. Definitely worse. You're on the fucking news."
"Starry is eviscerating us all on his late-night show. Are you watching?"
"You watch that crap?" Izuku asked, flabbergasted. He didn't think Kacchan was a late-night talk show kind of guy, much less one like Starry's.
"Oi, fuck off. Pinky's on this show sometimes."
"Shindo went on that show. They're the reason Quakeless became a thing," Izuku grumbled.
"I know. I saw that episode. They were a lot nicer on that episode. They're not pulling any punches this time."
"I'll watch it and call you back. Talk later," he said.
"Bye," Kacchan said, just before Izuku ended the call. Izuku sighed and changed the channel, catching the tail end of a Kit Kat commercial. When the show came back, Starry's smarmy blue face was front and center.
"We're back for our hour-long special, and this story is a doozy. Don't forget, I'm joined by my panel of guests: romance novelist, Koiji Aiko, American social media guru, Jenny Yang, and pro hero couple, Creati and Celcius. Thanks again for being here tonight. For those of you just joining us, a few days ago pro heroes Ground Zero and Quake got into a fist fight over what most people assume is a lovers' quarrel."
Izuku bristled at his word choice, and settled in for the onslaught. A picture of him and Shindo appeared on the screen. They were holding hands and Shindo was smiling at him. Izuku was looking at the camera with a wide-eyed expression on his face, not unlike a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His heart gave a small, unexpected lurch.
"So these two have been in the spotlight a lot recently. A little over two years ago, on this very show, Quakeless entered fandom vernacular, though there was little more than rumors floating around about their relationship at the time, and we couldn't get our guest, Quake, to fess up."
A picture of a red-face, slack-jawed Shindo on the show flashed on the screen for a few seconds before changing back to a photo of Shindo and Izuku. This time, it was the one of them kissing in his yard. Izuku averted his gaze, suddenly very interested in his blank phone screen.
"Only three months ago, we finally got explicit proof"—Starry paused, presumably to allow the audience to soak up his genius turn of phrase—"they were, in fact, a couple. What do you guys think of this development?"
"I think they're sweet, but I'm much more partial to QuirkZero," the romance novelist—a woman in her forties with a kitten on the front of her oversized sweater—said.
"That name sounds like a crappy off-brand soda," Starry said. Izuku wanted to disagree, on principle, but he couldn't. It absolutely sounded like a shitty, zero calorie soda. A photo of his preschool class photo shown in the top left of the screen, zoomed in to show that Kacchan and Izuku were standing next to each other. Koiji continued.
"There's very little about Ground Zero in the news, aside from his upward mobility on the hero rankings, and his impressive villain fights. He's mysterious, withholding, and successful. Then there's Quirkless. He's open about everything, a shining personality—he's a teacher, for god's sake. It's a classic opposites attract story, and that's all before the added cuteness of the fact that they grew up together. It's a romance novel waiting to be written."
Izuku grimaced. He hoped Shindo wasn't watching this. The photo changed to the picture Izuku posted on Kacchan's Winstagram.
"We've met all three of them before, and I have to say, I've never heard Ground Zero mention Quirkless. Before the picture than confirmed they were dating, I never suspected Quake and Quirkless were in a relationship either." Creati's addition to the conversation was polite and impartial. Izuku decided he liked her.
"Me neither," Celcius, a man of very few words, said. Izuku had always found him to be incredibly handsome, but that was about it. He had about as much personality as a slice of soggy wheat bread. Maybe he was just shy.
"There was that article that claimed sources close to Ground Zero was crushing on Quirkless," Starry said, clearly unenthused by Celcius' lackluster input.
"I believe that article specified that the source overheard a conversation amongst Ground Zero and his friends. I wouldn't take that as fact, though they do seem cozy in that photo," Jenny Yang, a smartly dressed young woman of Chinese descent, said in heavily accented Japanese. "However, with regard to Miss Koiji's comment, I wouldn't call Quirkless forthcoming at all."
"What makes you say that, Jenny?" Starry asked.
"If you look at that photo of Quake and Quirkless holding hands, Quake looks laid back. He's smiling at his boyfriend without a care for who's snapping pics. Quirkless is staring directly at the camera. He looks tense. I'm assuming Quirkless was behind the decision to keep their relationship as private as possible," Jenny said, pushing a stray hair behind her ear.
"Now, compare it with other photos he's taken himself with Quake—even the one with Ground Zero. They're suggestive, yes, but they never give us any definitive proof of either of them ever being more than friends. Quirkless is a master of social media, simply put. He controls his own narrative in a way that makes him incredibly likeable, and keeps him in the public eye enough that he's clawed his way up the Japanese hero rankings without a Quirk."
Izuku was transfixed by this woman who saw through him so completely. It was terrifying to be picked apart so aptly by a stranger.
"Is this something you talk about in your upcoming book?" Creati asked, seemingly genuinely interested in the subject.
"Yes, actually. It's a comprehensive analysis of the effects social media has on the hero rankings, specifically those in Japan, but I do mention other countries. It's no understatement to say that Quirkless and his strategy of 'show them everything, tell them nothing' makes up roughly 25 percent of my book," Jenny said, smiling genuinely with what must be pride. Izuku gawked at her. His skin crawled at the thought of people reading her book and picking through his accounts because it was sure to be full of insights about him he'd rather keep hidden.
"He's truly fascinating, and in my experience, the subject of a lot of lively debate. Quirkless navigates social media in a way that allows his followers to draw their own conclusions about him. People tend to gravitate towards people they can see a bit of themselves in. We love to unconsciously project ourselves onto others whenever we can. Quirkless seems to really understand that, but I come away from it thinking that we really don't know who he is as a person."
By the end of her diatribe, even Starry was speechless. His mouth hung dumbly open for a few seconds before he composed himself.
"Wow, who'd have thought we'd ever get such smart analysis on my funny little gossip show. Anyway—"
Izuku turned the TV off before Starry brought the conversation back to his failed relationship. He couldn't handle anymore. He didn't call Kacchan back. He went to bed and stared at his ceiling for hours, turning Jenny Yang's words over in his head.
—-
That night, Katsuki texted Izuku when it became pretty clear that he wasn't going to call him back. He hoped he was alright.
Katsuki Bakugo: my next day off is tuesday. dinner?
Izuku Midoriya: we go over lesson plans on tues so i usually get dinner w aizawa n shinso. drinks after?
Katsuki Bakugo: sounds good. ill buy.
Izuku Midoriya: :) sweeeeeet
Katsuki never knew a fucking emoticon could affect him so fully, but there he was grinning like an idiot, his stomach doing a complicated trapeze routine.
—
"Everything okay?"
Izuku nodded, plastering a fake smile on his face as he slid into his usual barstool next to Katsuki.
"I'm alive, so, there's that. You're still buying right?"
"I said I would, didn't I?"
"Good. Surprisingly, UA doesn't pay all that well."
"No shit? Is that why Aizawa lives in a sleeping bag?"
Izuku barked a laugh and Katsuki tried really hard not stare open-mouthed at his bright smile, but he had a feeling he was failing.
"He actually lives three doors down from me. UA owns that apartment building, so most of the teachers live there. You'll never guess how I found out where he lives though," Izuku said, grinning conspiratorially at Katsuki. He'd spent enough time with Ashido to know when he was about to get hit with hot gossip.
"Spill, nerd." Katsuki sipped his beer, grateful for their light back and forth. This night felt like a step in the right direction, no matter how innocuous the conversation. He wasn't sure they were equipped to handle a heavy heart to heart, but they could make fun of Aizawa for hours.
"You have to guess!"
"I can't even begin to wonder what that man does outside of the UA campus." Katsuki almost shivered at the thought of trying to imagine Aizawa as a normal person, doing normal person things, in normal civilian clothes. A brief flash of Aizawa in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt permeated his thoughts. It was horrifying.
"I saw Miss Joke stumbling into his apartment at two in the morning."
"No fucking way."
"Fucking way, Kacchan. He was in Present Mic pajama pants and she grabbed his dick. And he didn't even try to make her leave."
"I always thought he was hooking up with Present Mic on the low. Somehow, Miss Joke is even more unbelievable."
"Believe it. I saw it with my own eyes. When I tell you I screamed…" Izuku trailed off, looking convincingly shell-shocked.
"Just goes to show there's someone for everyone. Even a hardass like Aizawa."
"Never took you for a sappy romantic, Kacchan." Izuku smirked. Katsuki never took himself for a sappy romantic either, but the shit he'd been thinking about lately would beg to differ.
"Yeah, well, I guess I've softened in my old age."
Izuku gave him a knowing look that melted into a soft frown. He tried to hide it by sipping his beer, but Katsuki saw it. He wondered if he was thinking about Shindo.
"I don't really believe there's someone for everyone. I think some people are meant to be on their own—or at least they do better that way."
Katsuki hoped he wasn't talking about himself, or about Katsuki. Katsuki had been on his own for a long time, and he enjoyed being alone, but some people were worth giving up space in his life for. He made allowances for Kirishima and Ashido and all the other people that'd refused to let him be alone over the years, but he'd never made allowances like the ones he wanted to make for Izuku.
For Izuku, Katsuki would give up the second closet in his apartment, half the drawer space in his dresser, the extra comfortable pillow on the good side of the bed. He'd clear space in the fridge for his shitty imported beers and make room for him on the couch every night for the rest of his life. He wanted Izuku as close as he could possibly be. He wanted to sit right next to him, even when there were other options. He wanted to touch and hold and protect him from whatever darkness inside him made him think he was better off alone.
"Why do you think that?"
Izuku shrugged and sipped his beer, mulling over his words. He let out a sigh, and tried to explain himself.
"You know, my mom never dated anyone after my dad left? Like, not even a casual pity date. I asked her why once, after I moved out, and she said she liked her life as it was. She liked doing things on her own time, being responsible for herself."
"But you have Shindo. Don't you think you'd be sad without him?" The second he said it, Katsuki wanted to vacate the bar and walk into traffic. What the fuck was he saying? Reminding him of his shitty boyfriend was not part of the plan to convince Izuku to date him.
"I'm very sad without him, but not in the way you might think. I never wanted to date him," he said, and he sounded like he was pleading guilty to a murder. Like it was a relief to get the words out in the open, but that relief came with a fuckload of consequences. Katsuki almost missed the fact that Izuku spoke in the present tense. What exactly did that mean?
"Why?" Katsuki asked, dumbly. Izuku had never been so open with him, and he craved more information.
"I don't necessarily think I'm better on my own, but its better not to inflict myself on people. People do better without me."
"If you really believed that you'd have never started sleeping with him," Katsuki said, calling him on his bullshit. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I started sleeping with him because he was there, and he didn't say no—and I really needed to get the fuck out of my head, if only for a little while. It could have been anyone."
Katsuki's brows furrowed more with every word. He knew Izuku wasn't okay, but he never imagined he could be so cynical and uncaring about both himself, and his relationships. He sipped his beer just to have something to do. It was warm and unfulfilling.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Not to double down on the boating analogies, but any port in a storm, right? You said you'd be a life raft, and you've always been honest with me, Kacchan. You don't lie to make anyone feel better. I need that." He smiled at him, but it was small and bitter.
"You like to lie to yourself. Anyone ever tell you that?"
"My therapist said it once, but he's shit, and I don't listen to him."
"Maybe you should get a new therapist."
"There's an idea. I think I should go home instead of drinking more. Sorry for subjecting you to the heaviest bar conversation in history."
"Can I walk you home?" Katsuki blurted out, unwilling to let him go. Izuku nodded, and they set off in comfortable silence. It was a short walk, as it was the last time he'd walked him home. This time was much more pleasant, and every now and then their hands would unintentionally brush, and neither of them jumped away from the other. He wanted to take his hand in his and refuse to let go. He wanted to kiss him on his doorstep and make plans to see him again in the very near future.
Instead, he kept his hands to himself, his stomach fluttering with nerves. They pause awkwardly in front of his door. Katsuki didn't delude himself into thinking Izuku would invite him in, but he didn't want their time together to come to a close when he disappeared behind the door. He let it go on for as long as possible. And then Izuku grabbed his hand and he briefly lost his shit wondering what would happen next. He didn't not expect Izuku to pull him into the shrubbery next to his door.
"The fuck?"
"Hush! Look," Izuku said, putting a finger to his lips. Ms. Joke was ambling up the walkway—not stumbling drunk, as she was in Izuku's story earlier—and used her own key to open what Katsuki assumes was his former teacher's front door. "Honey, I'm home!"
Two tendrils of his capture weapon flew out and wrapped around her and pulled her into the apartment. All they heard was Joke's raucous giggling before the door slammed behind her.
Izuku was giggling. "See, I told you!"
All Katsuki could think about was how close they were. Izuku's shoulder was touching Katsuki's chest, and he was close enough to smell his shampoo. He could feel the shaking from his laughter, and he looked so pretty to Katsuki that he briefly lost his mind when Izuku's eyes found his.
Katsuki planted a hasty peck on Izuku's cheek, and his conspiratorial smile melted into a look of shock and awe. In all the time since they'd reconnected, he'd never seen Izuku look so out of step.
"Uh," Katsuki said, rather elegantly. He was almost glad that Izuku swiftly ran away and bolted into his apartment because he didn't know what to say next.
Katsuki didn't quite know what to make of that.