Classes ended for the day and Izuku was puddling around his office, collecting papers to grade at home, when he heard muffled conversation in the hall.
"Do you think we should tell him?" Aizawa, sounding slightly concerned. Izuku furrowed his brows, doing his best to eavesdrop without exposing himself. Something about a wedding.
"He'll find out eventually. Not like he lives under a rock," Shinso said, a sigh blowing out of him.
"Tell me what?" Izuku asked, startling both Aizawa and Shinso. It made Izuku smile—he'd been working on his stealth lately, and he was clearly improving if he could sneak up on them.
"Uh," Shinso said deftly. He shared a look with Aizawa, and Izuku could swear he saw the subtlest shake of his head. Izuku frowned. Before he could say anything, a commotion flew down the hall, right past them, led by a particularly serious Recovery Girl.
"Everything alright?" Shinso asked, in his lazy, but still curious way.
"Big villain fight downtown. Ground Zero's down and I've got to patch the idiot up."
Izuku recoiled at the sound of Kacchan's hero name, as Recovery girl and a portion of UA's field medical staff whirled past them. Recovery Girl rarely left campus anymore—she was, put simply, ancient, and not exactly as mobile as she used to be, so this must've been gravely serious. Izuku felt cold dread pool in his gut, and it only increased when he noticed Shinso and Aizawa staring at him like he's delicate and moments away from breaking. He doesn't pause to reassure them—he wasn't sure he could with how shaken he felt. He left to change, so he wouldn't cause a scene when he made his way to Musutafu General Hospital.
—
Izuku snuck around the hospital in a baggy coat, a hat pulled low over his head. He felt like he was on a caper, not going to visit someone in the hospital. He stopped short when he finally found Kacchan's room. He wasn't alone. There was a man in his room, and they hastily broke apart when they noticed Izuku. Kacchan looked groggy, but the shock of seeing him was clear. He didn't speak. The other man did.
"Hi. Bakugo's only allowed one visitor at a time."
Izuku froze, feeling like he'd been caught on said caper with stolen goods in his hands. Izuku couldn't stop himself from inspecting this man thoroughly. Tall and freckled with dark curly hair. Kacchan found a replacement Izuku—a handsomer, taller, more well-adjusted replacement. Suddenly, Izuku had no doubt this was what Aizawa and Shinso were talking about in the hall. This is the only thing they'd ever consider keeping him in the dark about.
He finally looked at Kacchan, and it felt like the quiet year of progress he'd made, the careful stack of good deeds, healthy coping mechanisms, and positive reinforcement fell at his feet and crushed him.
"Wrong room," he choked out, and Kacchan remained silent. He wished he could say what emotion he saw in his eyes. "Sorry."
Izuku's heart broke all over again, but he had no one to blame but himself. He had Kacchan once, he said so himself. Unconditionally. And Izuku pushed him away for reasons that hardly made sense when he really tried to think about it. In the end, Izuku's progress didn't matter much. It didn't matter if he was ready for a relationship or not. Kacchan was already in one.
—
When Katsuki came home from the hospital two days later, pissed that a villain got the drop on him enough to leave him in the rubble with a collapsed lung and a shattered arm and collarbone, he had a frame leaning against his apartment door, wrapped in parchment paper and tied with twine. Mizuno picked it up for him, so he would "overexert" himself. It annoyed Katsuki, but that had more to do with his own issues than with Mizuno.
Katsuki ripped the bland paper off the square object to reveal a host of colors underneath. It was a painting. The Little Prince tending to his flower in a striking array of color and textured brushstrokes. There was a note attached to the back, but he doesn't want to read it with Mizuno standing beside him. He didn't even want to look at the painting because it was beautiful, and he knew what this gesture meant, and exactly who it was from before he even looked at the signature in the bottom right corner. It was dated back a year ago and signed by Deku. Katsuki knew it meant that he'd been thinking about him all this time too. Katsuki ran a thumb over the name, felt the texture of the canvas, a swirl of hope and pain rising within him in equal measure.
"Who's it from?"
"Deku," Katsuki said, and the thick lump in his throat was unmistakable. "It's a scene from my favorite book."
"You'll have to tell me about it some time. For now, let's get you to bed. Doctor's orders."
Katsuki nodded and pocketed the note. It felt like a lead weight.
"I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over, just like you: 'I am busy with matters of consequence!' And that makes him swell up with pride. But he is not a man—he is a mushroom!"
I was a mushroom too. I'm sorry. I'm glad you're alright.
Love, Deku
Katsuki fell asleep with the note clutched to his chest. He could put it away tomorrow, he could bury it under a stack of papers in his office and forget about it. Tonight, he would allow himself a moment of weakness, just for a little while.
—
"Are you alright?" Aizawa asked, sitting on the edge of Izuku's desk. Aizawa wasn't one to ask questions like that. He'd been supportive and caring over the last year or so, but he'd so in a muted sort of way. Aizawa surveyed him with an almost critical gaze, trying to take his mental temperature.
"You knew? About Kacchan's… boyfriend?" The word got caught in his throat. He forced it out like verbal spit up.
"That wasn't an answer, kid. Don't make me ask again."
Izuku gave a breathy laugh. It was more shaky and neurotic than he'd like to admit.
"I'm… coping. I'm not going to go off the deep end, if that's what you're worried about."
Aizawa chuckled gruffly, and Izuku could tell how awkward he felt. Gratitude welled up inside him, and Izuku decided in that moment to do something crazy. He stood and forced Aizawa into a reluctant hug.
"I'll be okay. Thank you for watching out for me." Izuku's eyes burned, and he subtly wiped them on Aizawa's scarf. "I've never had a dad, but if I got to pick one, I'd pick someone like you."
Aizawa stiffened for all of five seconds before he patted Izuku on the back. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. When Izuku finally relinquished him, he smiled cheekily.
"I'll never make you talk about anything like this again."
"Thank god," Aizawa said, and he hastened away with more speed than his constant exhaustion usually allowed.
Izuku wasn't lying when he said he was coping. What was all that therapy for, if not for learning to cope? He wasn't happy by a long shot, but he had hope that someday he'd get there.
He had friends, family, a fulfilling job, and more hobbies than he really needed. Maybe it was time to let Kacchan go. Maybe leaving that painting on his doorstep was a horrible, selfish thing to do, but…
Maybe it was something he needed to do to say goodbye, to finally find peace and closure.
NOVEMBERIzuku got an invitation to celebrate the grand opening of Shindo's agency, and Izuku couldn't help but see it as an olive branch. They've had little to no contact since their breakup, and the contact they'd had was unintentional and steeped in awkwardness. Izuku couldn't say no to something like this, but his stomach flipped and dipped and swayed every time he thought about it. He immediately asked Shinso to come with him for moral support.
Shinso's response is a curt, flat, "No."
"Why not?"
"I know you thought I was just trying to be funny when I told you I was your emotional fluffer, but I really don't think you realize how many dates you take me on."
Izuku spluttered, baffled. "I do not!"
Shinso crossed his arms, staring into Izuku's soul with those unimpressed, tired eyes. When the silence stretched on so long that Izuku started to squirm, he hesitantly asked, "Do I?"
"You make me go see all those poorly written romantic comedies with you."
"And?" It wasn't Izuku's fault that he happened to like rom-coms. Friends saw movies together. No big deal.
"And you brought me home to your mom for Christmas."
"She wanted to meet you!"
"Everyone at the cat cafe thinks you're my boyfriend," Shinso said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
"You brought me there in the first place!"
"We went on the gayest picnic ever last spring."
"What, exactly, makes a picnic gay?"
"Face it. I'm your emotional support boyfriend. And now I'm putting my foot down."
Izuku pouted. Was it really so bad to hang out with his friend? Picnics are fun, and the weather was beautiful that day. It would've been wasteful to spend it indoors.
"You're the worst," he grumbled, slightly offended.
"And, yet, here you are, asking me on another date." Shinso rolled his eyes, but he smirked. He was enjoying this.
"It's not a date! I'm just nervous about seeing Shindo."
"That's not my problem. Be a big boy."
"People really think we're dating?"
"Yeah, even my boyfriend."
Izuku frowned, suddenly cowed. Shinso and Monoma started dating shortly after Izuku and Shinso started hanging out—after Izuku's entire life imploded. Monoma wasn't shy about his dislike for Izuku, and suddenly it all made sense.
"Well, my apologies to Monoma. No wonder he hates me so much," Izuku said, coming to terms with the sudden realization that Shinso was, in fact, an emotional fluffer. Shinso snorted.
"Just don't plan anymore gay picnics and we'll all be fine."
—
Mizuno's fully dressed in a velvety navy suit, sitting on his couch. The rankings for the year were set to be unveiled that night, and they decided that they would show up together and make their relationship official—at least to the public eye. Katsuki was still looking a bit disheveled when Mizuno walked in. He had nothing but his slacks and an undershirt on because he couldn't find the button down he was looking for. He was further distracted from his mission when Mizuno's chest pressed into his back.
"You're really not helping me keep to my schedule."
"We've got time," Mizuno said, and his voice was a low rumble that he felt immediately in his groin. This… this was new. At least between the two of them.
Katsuki never knew there was so much nuance to kissing. With Izuku, the intention was always to go further, but Mizuno never kissed him in an effort to end up in bed. They were taking it so slow that they almost never hung out at each other's apartments. And now, Mizuno's intentions were very clear. And for the first time in so long, Katsuki found himself hungrily reciprocating.
There was a certain amount of terror involved that Katsuki never expected. He never expected it to feel like a first time all over again, but neither of them knew each other in this way, so they both ended up fumbling a bit. Mizuno's three piece suit was not helping. He'd pushed the jacket off his shoulders before they ever made it horizontal, and they were both trying to kiss each other while Mizuno loosened his tie and Katsuki struggled with the belt buckle. They were frantically pawing at each other, desperate not to wait another second.
And then Mizuno's phone rang.
"Ignore it," Katsuki growled, finally done with Mizuno's belt and working the button and clasp on his pants. Mizuno gave a curt nod, his teeth grazing Katsuki's neck and collarbone. He shivered, and briefly wondered why they both still had shirts on. If the way Mizuno clutched at Katsuki's thin tank top was any indication, he had a similar thought.
And his phone rang again, this time punctuated by a few text notifications. Mizuno broke away, grunting in frustration, and grabbed his phone. The look on his face told Katsuki he wasn't getting any today. It was like throwing a bucket of cold water on him, immediately sobering.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, but my mom's freaking out. I need to call her," he said, extricating himself from Katsuki, and dashing out of the room with the phone pressed to his ear.