Chapter Text
“Oh my god, it's him!”
Izuku froze in the middle of the convenience store, nearly dropping his drink. This was happening more and more often now. Being that it was his third year in UA, he’d put a lot of time into his internships. It shouldn’t be surprising when people recognized him… But it was awkward, so he usually just kept his head down when he was out and about, and prayed nobody made too much of a fuss.
He’d gone home to visit for the weekend, though, and he'd forgotten that people out here weren't as desensitized to being confronted by heroes living everyday lives as the folks around UA. He glanced over at the gaggle of young women - probably close to his own age - staring and giggling in his direction.
“Hello,” Izuku managed weakly, “Can I help you?”
As if it were an invitation, one of the girls leapt forward, laying a hand on his arm and leaning in. “You're that guy with the green costume, uh - Deku, right?”
Izuku chuckled nervously, trying unsuccessfully to ease away from her touch. “Yeah, but I’m not on duty right now…” he took a step back, and the girls pressed in even closer. Oh god, he was starting to attract even more attention, other people in the store were starting to turn and look - !!
A heavy arm settled across his shoulders, drawing him flush against a solid and oddly familiar figure. “Oi, Deku,” Kacchan rumbled, “What's taking you so long?”
Izuku wasn't sure how to respond - he hadn’t realized Kacchan was even in the same convenience store, much less waiting for him. What was he even waiting for, a sparring match? He’d had no idea that Kacchan was also home for a visit. Admittedly, Izuku not knowing anything about Kacchan’s schedule was hardly surprising. Their cooperation had been steadily improving since their rocky start in class 1-A, and they'd both grown into splendid heroes who were learning to win and rescue - and shockingly, they were (generally) able to do it as a team. Despite this, Kacchan still wasn't what Izuku would classify as “friend”. He was more an ally of convenience. So the fact that he’d supposedly been waiting for him was odd, odd enough that he couldn't help but throw a baffled look in Kacchan’s direction. His childhood friend’s scarlet eyes held a challenging gleam as he stared down the fangirls.
“Oh, you're meeting… someone…” The ringleader said weakly, lifting her hand from Izuku’s arm slowly, as if she were trying to back away from a wild animal.
“Damn fuckin’ straight,” Kacchan answered, before giving Izuku a pointed shove. “Go buy your drink, ya damn nerd.”
Izuku scurried up to the counter as the fangirls scattered, doing as he was told, plunking down the bottle and paying as quickly as possible. Kacchan hovered behind him like a vengeful spirit as they walked out together. As they did, the girls appeared to finally decide that Izuku wasn't worth the trouble of trying to go through Kacchan, so they scurried off, presumably to do something more interesting than try and talk to Izuku. Kacchan watched them go with a grimace before turning his sour look on Izuku.
“What the hell is your problem, Deku?” he demanded irritably, glaring at Izuku like he’d done something to personally affront Kacchan. “How can you be so damn strong and still look like a weak-ass loser?” Kacchan scowled, folding his arms over his broad chest and taking on a nearly scolding tone when he added, “Don't let them put you on the defensive when they're only some damn groupies, idiot!”
“Well not everyone can send their fans scurrying away with a single look, Kacchan!” Izuku protested. “I don't want to upset-”
“Fine, whatever, drink your damn tea,” Kacchan cut him off before he had the chance to finish his statement, prompting a sigh from Izuku.
“I wish you'd stop that,” he said, trying not to sound irritated and only marginally succeeding.
Kacchan paused. He'd been about to turn around and walk away, but now he was eyeing Izuku with confusion and vague irritation. “Stop what?”
“Interrupting me!” Izuku answered. “Every time you disagree with me, you interrupt-”
“That's because you're being fucking stupid,” Kacchan responded.
Izuku just glared at Kacchan, but he may as well have been glowering at a brick wall for all the effect it had. “Stop it.”
Kacchan made a face. “Anyway, you're fucking welcome,” he groused, ignoring Izuku’s request entirely. “You visiting your mom?”
Izuku sighed. “Yeah.”
“I’ll walk you,” Kacchan decided, and began marching in the direction of Izuku’s home.
“Wait! What? Why?” Izuku hurried after him, baffled. What was Kacchan doing?
“Because you can't say no to anyone and you want to see your mom soon, right?” Kacchan indicated the street, which Izuku was only just realizing was full of people whispering and pointing and staring at the two of them. With a sneer, Kacchan wrapped his arm around Izuku’s shoulders again, steering him down the street, daring passers-by to approach them with sharp looks and a curled lip. “C’mon,” he urged Izuku, who was dragging his feet, “let's get you home.” He was silent for a moment, before adding in a conspiratorial tone, “besides, I can avoid the old witch longer if I have a decent excuse for being late.”
And just like that, it all made sense.
Izuku had assumed that Kacchan’s helpfulness had been a one-time deal. An erroneous assumption, as he was to discover before long. In the week following his takedown of a small-time villain as part of his UA internship, Izuku found himself swamped with reporters every time he left the UA campus. It was getting to the point where Izuku was going stir crazy, so he finally decided to face the swarms of reporters and endure as best he could. He made it halfway to the store before the crowd had gotten so large that Izuku was tempted to start Full Cowling just to get past the crush of humanity - and then, just like that, Kacchan was there.
With a firm arm around his shoulders, a few brusque grunts of “no comment,” and a few well-aimed glares later, Kacchan had managed to get Izuku all the way to the store at nearly his normal pace, despite the crowd pressing in on them from all sides. Finally, Izuku was able to do his grocery shopping in peace!
...well, almost.
“Why the fuck are you buying cookies?” Kacchan demanded from where he stood, hovering behind Izuku’s shoulder, continuing his running commentary on everything Izuku chose to put in his basket.
Honestly, where did Kacchan get off criticizing cookies, of all things? Did he just hate anything and everything that was soft and sweet? God, Izuku realized dismally, that would sure explain a lot. “What's wrong with cookies?” Izuku asked him, considering the package like it was far more interesting than the packaging truly warranted. “I like them, and besides-”
Kacchan snatched the package out of his hands, eyeing it as though he could incinerate the cookies inside with the sheer intensity of his gaze. “Country Ma’am? Come on, Deku,” he sent a withering look in Izuku’s direction. “These things aren’t even that good.”
Izuku snatched the package back, shooting a disgruntled look his way. “Look Kacchan, if all you're planning to do here is criticize my snacks…”
Kacchan scoffed, as if Izuku had sullied his honor at the implication. “I’m keepin’ the paparazzi at bay,” he reminded Izuku.
Izuku frowned. “I… I don't see any reporters,” he noted, glancing around.
Kacchan puffed out his chest a little, smirking. “Looks like I’m doing a fucking good job, then,” he replied.
That wasn't exactly what Izuku had intended by his comment, but… well, if Kacchan was going to insist on following him around, Izuku would put him to work. “If you're not going to do any shopping of your own,” Izuku decided, “you can at least try to be helpful. Hold this,” he ordered, pressing his basket into Kacchan’s arms so he could examine two different bags of potato chips, showing them to Kacchan, a question in his gaze. “What do you think? Nori Salt or Consommé?” he asked.
Kacchan was holding the basket and staring at him with murderous intent. So, pretty much like any other time they spent more than a few minutes in each others’ company. “What about the Flaming Hot Pepper chips?” Kacchan suggested, jerking his head at the shelves behind Izuku and completely ignoring the fact that ‘Flaming Hot Pepper’ hadn't been one of the options Izuku had listed.
Izuku turned to eye the bag, proudly proclaiming ‘Hot! Hot! HOT!’ with a cartoon character breathing fire for its logo. “I genuinely think they might kill me,” he answered, considering the chips for a moment before gasping, “They put a freaking scoville index score on the bag!”
“No way!” Kacchan crouched next to the potato chips in an instant, still holding Izuku’s basket for him but no longer concerning himself with its contents. “Hot damn! They have Carolina Reaper on the ingredients list!”
Personally, Izuku thought Carolina Reaper sounded more like a villain alter ego than the name of a hot pepper, but after knowing Kacchan for as long as he had, he’d become fairly well versed in all things hot-pepper. “Yeah, definitely not going to eat that. I don't even want to touch it unless I’m wearing gloves. In fact - Kacchan what are you doing?!” Izuku interrupted himself with a shrill yelp as Kacchan began piling his basket with multiple bags of the accursed spicy potato chips.
“I'm putting them in the basket,” Kacchan answered matter-of-factly, before pausing. “Oh right, they might not actually be that spicy,” he mused, putting back all but one of the bags. “I’ll just get one to try.”
That wasn't at all what Izuku had been worried about, but at least Kacchan was no longer burying his groceries under a towering pile of potato chips. “Anyway,” Izuku lifted his two bags of chips again. “Nori Salt or Consommé?”
Kacchan lifted a different bag. “Gross. Get these kimchi-flavored chips instead.”
...it was going to be a long shopping trip.
It took about four more incidents of Kacchan “casually” sticking close to Izuku and putting his arms around him in public for the media to take notice, and suddenly Izuku had even more awkward situations to deal with - like reporters hounding him for a statement about his supposed “relationship” with Kacchan! Izuku would have accused them of jumping to conclusions, but Kacchan wasn't a very physically affectionate person, and even though he knew that Kacchan was just using his presence to keep reporters and groupies at a respectable distance, to most people, it would look suspicious.
But even that wasn't so bad. What really threw him for a loop was when Kirishima asked him, “When’s the wedding?” Bakugou’s best friend. Eijirou. Implying that Izuku was dating Kacchan. How did the guy not know any better? Izuku had been so flabbergasted he hadn't managed to formulate a response by the time Kirishima walked off a full twenty seconds later.
Then again, it was possible that Kirishima was merely curious, as Izuku suspected a discussion of that sort would not go over well with Kacchan. Had Kirishima made a similar smart remark to his explosive, nitroglycerin-sweating friend, he probably would have gotten some vehement denial and a few explosions to punctuate said denial, followed by more vehement denial.
It seemed to Izuku that Kacchan’s propensity for defensiveness meant that any denial on his part generally fell into the “methinks he doth protest too much” territory, even when he was being genuine. Kacchan just happened to be the type of guy who actually reacted melodramatically to anything and everything, so Izuku tried not to take Kirishima’s weird comment seriously. Most people couldn't be expected to tell the difference between “blustering blowhard” Kacchan and “actually displeased” Kacchan. Even Izuku struggled to tell the difference most days, and he’d known Kacchan longer than any of the hero-in-training’s friends.
Since he didn't feel like dragging Kirishima deeper into the drama, Izuku decided it was time to bring up the whole “people think we’re dating” thing with Kacchan. Admittedly, he could have gone about it better than just springing it on him that evening, but he’d expected Kacchan to get defensive and explodey.
He had not counted on Kacchan reacting with a measured, “So?” and a shrug, before he continued to read his textbook, lounging lengthwise on the comfiest couch in the common room like he owned the place.
His apparent nonchalance left Izuku sputtering in utter befuddlement for a minute before he managed to collect his thoughts. “Are you even listening to me, Kacchan? People think we’re dating. Our classmates think we’re dating.”
Kacchan spared a mildly irritated glance in Izuku’s direction. “Why the fuck should I care?” he asked, leaving Midoriya genuinely speechless for a good minute.
He wasn't sure why, but he’d always assumed that Kacchan was the ‘gay panic’ type. For one thing, Kirishima was always going on about “manly this” or “manly that”, and Kacchan seemed to fit a lot of heteronormative standards to a T. But that didn't necessarily mean that Kacchan was homophobic (Izuku was starting to realize), just… an asshole. An asshole who apparently didn't give a shit about people assuming he was gay. Izuku could have left it at that, but he was bad at walking away from conversations, his mouth opening before he really had time to consider the words he spoke.
“But, they think you're gay,” Izuku explained. “They think we’re gay. For each other.” Izuku resisted the urge to facepalm at his own awkward phrasing. That was literally what ‘they think we’re dating’ meant, why the hell was he getting so technical? Did he think Kacchan didn't understand what “dating” implied?
Kacchan didn't even look up from his book. “I am gay,” he said, and it seemed that he assumed this detail contained sufficient information to resolve Izuku’s current dilemma.
Izuku was busy trying to scrape his dropped jaw off the floor. What? When? How? Why hasn't he known? Though it shouldn't have been surprising that he hadn't heard about it before then. He and Kacchan hadn't been close since they were about eight years old, and it’s not like Kacchan would have advertised his sexual orientation in school. In fact, Izuku couldn't recall hearing about Kacchan even going on a date. The explosive teen just hadn't seemed interested, preferring to scoff at other people because they were ‘distracted’ by ‘useless teenage hormones’.
Holy shit, Kacchan was gay and Izuku was definitely staring at him for an inappropriate length of time, because Katsuki lowered his textbook to pin him with a dark look. “You got a fuckin’ problem, Deku?” He sat up a little, a challenge in his gaze. “Something you wanna say?”
Izuku took a step back, making a nervous sound in the back of his throat. “No? I just never realized that you were gay and it just surprised me, is all, so I guess I was staring at you and that’s probably not a great response, what do you do when someone comes out, anyway? Should I have congratulated you? Or should I-”
Kacchan stood in one fluid movement, snapping his book shut. “For fuck’s sake Deku, shut up.” He glared at Izuku for a long moment, his crimson eyes holding Izuku’s gaze until it started to get weird, before he finally said, “I don't care if people think I’m gay.” He got a funny look on his face then, an expression Izuku couldn't quite place. “Does it bother you?”
“I mean, the reporters are just getting to be ridiculous, that's all,” Izuku answered weakly, “So I guess, in that sense, it bothers me.”
Kacchan eyed him a moment longer, then shrugged. “Okay,” he said, and sprawled back out on the couch, reopening his book.
Izuku had never felt so confused by a conversation in his life. He wanted to clarify a few things, but if the way Kacchan was now pointedly ignoring him was any indication, the conversation was over as far as he was concerned. With no other alternatives, Izuku decided that he would just keep doing his best to endure the hordes of invasive reporters and their plethora of personal questions, and hope that Kacchan would be more amenable to discussion at a later date.
As far as dealing with the rampant rumors about his “relationship” with Kacchan, it didn't take long for Izuku to realize that his ‘other half’ had taken matters into his own hands. Which explained why Kacchan was apparently waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs the next morning, Izuku had been minding his own business when Kacchan had practically materialized beside him.
“Going somewhere?” Kacchan asked.
Izuku startled, making a sharp “eep!” sound as he did so. He glared at Kacchan. “Don't scare me like that!” he groused.
“I was just standing here,” Kacchan replied sharply, eyes narrowing. “Pay more fuckin’ attention to your surroundings next time, dumbass nerd.”
Izuku scowled back at him, but he really wasn't in the mood for a shouting match, and Kacchan generally won those anyway since he had more practice. “What do you want, Kacchan?”
Kacchan rolled his eyes heavenward beseechingly, as if he were the one being put upon and inconvenienced, rather than Izuku. “Are you going out?” he asked, enunciating each word carefully, as if Izuku was hard of hearing.
“Yes…?” Izuku answered weakly, not sure why it was such a big deal.
“I’ll come with you,” Kacchan decided, which was basically the exact opposite of what Izuku wanted.
“Why?” Izuku groaned, “What good could that possibly do?”
Kacchan glowered for a moment. “Do you want me to deal with the reporters or not?” he snapped, a stray spark dancing at the end of his fingertips, belying a weakening grasp on his fiery temper. “Last night you wanted me to deal with them, so I’ll fuckin’ deal with them! Or did you already change your goddamn mind?!”
Izuku blinked once, then again. “Oh,” he said weakly, feeling foolish, “That.”
“Yeah, that,” Kacchan snarled. “So if you're gonna go, let's fucking go!”
Izuku nodded weakly. Sure enough, once they’d made it past the UA grounds,
reporters began to spot them. Once the crowd began to get sizeable, Izuku found himself glancing anxiously at Kacchan. What was he going to do?
Several reporters were demanding answers, shoving their mics into Izuku’s face when Kacchan placed his body in front of Izuku, using it as a human shield to keep the reporters at bay. “Oi!” he roared, immediately drawing attention to them while effectively silencing the crowd of journalists. “Fuck off!”
“Are you dating Deku, Ground Zero?” one of the reporters dared to call from the back of the crowd.
Kacchan’s eyes sparked like he was accepting a challenge, and he wrapped one of his arms firmly around Izuku’s shoulders. “Sure am,” he answered, and surely Izuku had misheard that.
“Kacch-” he began, but Katsuki gripped his shoulder tightly.
“Shut up and let me fuckin deal with it,” he hissed from the side of his mouth, before once more turning to address the crowd of reporters. “So if you have any questions about our relationship,” Kacchan continued loudly, “You come talk to me about it, and leave Deku the fuck alone.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “In fact, if I hear that one of you has bothered Deku with this shit even after I told you to stop, I will personally ensure that you never get an exclusive interview with Deku or myself, ever.”
That threat seemed to do the trick, the crowd slowly dispersing. A few reporters were still calling “Ground Zero! Ground Zero!” behind them, but Kacchan chose to give them the bird with one hand, his other arm still around Izuku’s shoulders. Before long, even those reporters seemed to have given up.
Izuku wasn't sure what to think. Sure, Kacchan had gotten the reporters to stop bothering him - but at what cost? It was almost frustrating. If Kacchan was pretending to be with Izuku, wouldn't that hurt both their chances at finding a real relationship? Izuku didn't like it, and if he’d had the chance to give Kacchan input in the development stages of this shitshow of a plan, maybe things would have gone down differently. Instead he was stuck playing along with Kacchan’s poorly thought-out plan.
Still, while Izuku didn’t like how this had turned out, he liked the alternative (enduring the reporters forever) even less, so…
He and Kacchan were “dating” now, apparently. God, Kirishima was going to be so confused by the end of this whole fiasco. Kacchan was guiding him towards the supermarket, saying, “Stop here for a minute, I wanna get more of those spicy potato chips.”
Izuku bit back a groan. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to put up with Kacchan pretending to date him.
Oh well. It had to be better than the reporters, right?
…Right?