If I Had One Wish

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty - Dollhouse 

No one ever listens

This wallpaper glistens

Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Izuku Midoriya realized the weight of what he was doing on his drive up to his fathers house in the expensive area of town. He revved the engine at a traffic light, the rumbling of the motorcycle vibrating through his numbed system and rattled his bones. For about an hour he was pleasantly washed over with the feeling of his boyfriend. His touch, his words, those little talks. He consumed him, distracted him and that effect was finally wearing off the closer to what he viewed as impending doom.

How he despised his father. How he hated even more that he craved his love and attention nonetheless. And to think, people romanticized this.

He could see the boy in his shiny red sports car revving his own engine, advancing and pulling back while smirking at Izuku. This rich boy wanted to race, seeing someone looking cool while he was in his daddy's paid car probably insulted him. Izuku snorted beneath his visor, ignoring him despite how close the car was to his bike, rolling forward more. He learned to despise the rich who never worked a day in their goddamn lives; who got hand-me-downs for the sake of whatever last name they bore. This child who seemed sixteen, at most, was given everything while doing nothing. As a hero he knew it was wrong to be utterly annoyed by this but it was just downright irritating. The stench of the toxic gas from the custom muffler popped aggressively when the light turned green, the young driver speeding forward like his tail was on fire.

His father lived amongst fellow glutinous, greedy, self-centered obnoxious fools, how befitting.

He trailed behind the speeding cars, not wanting to be caught up in this sort of crowd or enable them by racing as well. When he pulled into the house's, if it could even be called that, long winding drive he hoped he was mistaken but, of course, there stood his mother looking mystical and petite against the large marble and brick walls while holding the brass handle of a gigantic oak door. This was beyond excessive but it was grand and it was architecturally beautiful, his mothers happiness the only reason he accepted this. She seemed so joyous that he had to smile when he removed the helmet and placed it on the seat of his bike and pocketed the keys.

His leather gloves stretched over his knuckles, fingerless and fitted with a bit of orange trim. He stole these from Katsuki before he left, earning a firm kick to his ass as he got shoved out the door with the blonde yelling at him to bring them back in good shape because god forbid he ruin them with his 'scarred fucking one-for-all wielding ass' hands.

Yes, he got kicked instead of kissed on his way out with a longed out flung insult, or somewhat of an insult. His boyfriend was quite the man, he adored him.

Inko mini-ran down the small steps, reaching Izuku who easily caught her and hugged her. He held her above ground easily, smiling at her laughter. She seemed happier than that night when they had dinner.

"Izuku! Put me down." Her laughter chimed as she patted his bicep rapidly, lightly. Setting her down he let her adjust the collar on his jacket, also stolen from Katsuki and smelled of burnt sugar and firewood. She seemed to contemplate the jacket, the obvious hero name of Katsuki's in orange over the black surface Dynamight, if she looked at his back he'd have the large orange X as well.

She wondered, obviously, like any mother would. She hadn't heard or known about his romantic life for years, she figured he didn't have one with how bad her son was at keeping secrets, but these little instances with Bakugou, including the previous dinner, made her wonder.