It was well past midnight when Katsuki Bakugo stumbled into the apartment, the door slamming behind him with a loud thud. His footsteps were uneven, and the faint stench of alcohol clung to him like a second skin. His vision blurred slightly, the world around him swaying in an unsteady rhythm. It wasn’t often Bakugo drank, but tonight had been different—tonight was a celebration of their latest mission success, and he had indulged far more than he should have.
Izuku Midoriya sat on the couch, flipping through his hero reports, the glow of the lamp casting soft shadows across his face. His green curls were tousled, and his expression was one of pure concentration—until Bakugo burst in, of course.
"Ka-Kacchan?" Midoriya stammered, jumping to his feet as Bakugo stumbled forward, leaning heavily against the wall for support. "Are you… okay?"
Bakugo groaned in response, waving a dismissive hand as if to brush off the concern. “M’fine, nerd,” he muttered, though his words slurred together, making it obvious that he was anything but fine. His eyes, usually sharp and fiery, were glazed over, heavy with the weight of too much alcohol.
Midoriya stepped closer, his heart rate quickening with concern. “You don’t look fine. You should sit down.”
“I don’t need your help,” Bakugo growled, but the growl lacked its usual bite. It was softer, almost vulnerable. He tried to push himself off the wall, only to sway dangerously. Midoriya darted forward, catching his arm before he could fall.
“Easy,” Midoriya said softly, guiding Bakugo toward the couch. Bakugo didn’t fight him this time, letting himself be led as his legs wobbled beneath him. They sat down, Bakugo slumping into the cushions with a heavy sigh.
Silence stretched between them for a few moments, the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room. Midoriya watched Bakugo closely, unsure of what to say. He had seen Bakugo angry, he had seen him frustrated, determined, even kind in his own rough way—but he had never seen him like this.
“Izuku,” Bakugo suddenly mumbled, his voice low and strange.
Midoriya froze. Bakugo almost never called him by his first name. The sound of it sent a shiver down his spine, and he turned to face Bakugo fully. “Yeah?”
For a long moment, Bakugo didn’t say anything, just stared at his hands, his fingers clenching and unclenching. His usual cocky demeanor seemed to crumble, replaced by something raw and unguarded.
“You know… you’re so damn annoying,” Bakugo muttered, his head lolling to the side as he finally looked at Midoriya. “Always… always trying to save everyone. Always trying to save me.”
Midoriya blinked, unsure how to respond. Bakugo’s voice wasn’t angry like it usually was when he insulted him. It was softer, almost confused.
“I never asked for your help, but you… you keep doing it anyway,” Bakugo continued, his voice cracking just slightly. He let out a bitter laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn nerd. Always in my head.”
“Kacchan…” Midoriya began, but the words died on his lips when Bakugo suddenly turned to face him, his red eyes boring into his with an intensity that took Midoriya’s breath away.
“Why are you always there, Deku?” Bakugo whispered, his voice breaking again, this time with something that sounded suspiciously like pain. “I can’t get you out of my head. No matter how hard I try.”
Midoriya felt his heart pound in his chest, his throat tightening. This wasn’t the Bakugo he knew. This was someone different—someone vulnerable, someone who wasn’t wearing his walls like armor.
“Because I care about you,” Midoriya whispered, his voice shaking. “I’ve always cared about you, Kacchan.”
Bakugo snorted, though there was no humor in the sound. He leaned closer, his breath warm against Midoriya’s skin. “Stupid nerd,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to Midoriya’s ear. “You… you don’t even know what you do to me.”
Midoriya’s breath hitched in his throat, his pulse racing. “Kacchan, you’re drunk. You should rest.”
Bakugo ignored him, his hand suddenly grabbing the front of Midoriya’s shirt, pulling him closer. “You don’t get it, do you?” Bakugo’s voice was rough, desperate. “I’ve been trying to beat you all this time because I… because I… God, I’m such an idiot.”
Midoriya’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Bakugo swallowed hard, his eyes locked on Midoriya’s. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but then he let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. “I love you, dumbass,” he finally muttered, the words slurred but unmistakable. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late.”
The words hung heavy in the air, sinking into Midoriya’s chest like stones. His mind raced, trying to process what he had just heard. Bakugo—Kacchan—loved him?
Midoriya’s breath came in short, uneven bursts as he stared at Bakugo, who was now avoiding his gaze, his face flushed from more than just the alcohol. For the first time, Bakugo seemed small, vulnerable, and Midoriya didn’t know how to respond.
“Kacchan…” he whispered again, his voice trembling. “I…”
“Don’t say anything,” Bakugo growled, though it lacked his usual fierceness. He dropped his hand from Midoriya’s shirt, slumping back into the couch. “I’m drunk. Just… forget I said anything.”
But Midoriya couldn’t forget. The confession rang in his ears, loud and clear. Slowly, he reached out, his hand resting on Bakugo’s, squeezing it gently. “I won’t forget,” he said quietly.
Bakugo’s eyes flickered to him, wide and uncertain. Midoriya gave him a soft smile, his heart pounding in his chest. “We’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay? But… thank you for telling me.”
Bakugo stared at him for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing as he leaned back against the couch. “You’re such a damn nerd,” he muttered, but this time, there was no venom in his words.
Midoriya chuckled softly, his hand still resting on Bakugo’s. "Maybe," he whispered, "but I’m your nerd."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Bakugo didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he squeezed Midoriya’s hand back, the weight of his confession settling between them as the world outside faded away.
