#bkdk fic

ACT 1: Graduation and the Missing Explosion

Graduation Day arrived beneath an impossibly blue sky. The kind that felt staged; too bright, too perfect. Like the universe had decided to reward them for surviving.

As if survival deserved rewards.

The campus buzzed with nervous energy, families flooded into the grounds and seated themselves behind the group of chairs marked for graduates. Students crowded the outside of the arena looking for their friends to sit with. Teachers looked suspiciously emotional and traded hero uniforms for suits and dresses.

Everyone smiled, everyone laughed, everyone talked about what was coming, about the future. Hero agencies, universities, side kick jobs, some talk about going indie. Dreams.

Because that’s what it was, dreams coming to fruition and the rest of their lives relying on their own actions from now on.

Katsuki thought it all sounded exhausting.

He tugged on the collar of his uniform and glared at nothing in particular. The line of graduating students stretched ahead of him, a sea of gray jackets and red ties and pink Sakura ribbons attached to their breast pockets.

Mina was crying already, blotchy cheeks and mascara streaking along the outer corners of her eyes. Kaminari was trying not to cry, failing horrendously. Sero looked like he was holding back tears at least. Kirishima had the two boys—men, now—in his arms chuckling.

Pathetic. The whole lot of them. Absolutely pathetic.

A laugh drifted from somewhere nearby and Katsuki’s attention snagged immediately, without permission or thought.

Because Izuku stood several places away, talking to Uraraka with their heads tucked close and goofy grins on their faces. His hair was refusing to behave despite every attempt made against it. His freckles were still visible, bunched cheeks high and sunlight catching the edges of his smile.

It felt bright. Easy. Warm. Like it always was, like nothing in the world could touch him.

Izuku looked up, and those emerald eyes seared into him when they found Katsuki. His grin widened somehow, softer around the edges, familiar in all its glory.

Katsuki felt that knot tighten in his chest again—for just a moment, then loosen. He gave a single nod towards him. Nothing dramatic, nothing anyone else would notice. Izuku’s smile somehow brightened and crinkled at the edge of his eyes anyway.

Idiot.

He knew neither of them would mention last night. The common room, the conversation, the silence, the strange ache that had followed Katsuki back to his room afterward. There wasn’t anything to say.

Graduation was here, and the world would keep moving, whether they were ready or not.

The ceremony began with a bang, the loud idiot calling their attention with a beat and a record scratch. Students filing into place into their spots, families and friends applauding in the distance, teachers watching from their seats and uncannily misty eyed.

And for the first time in years, nobody was trying to commit shitty murders or kidnappings. Honestly? A nice change of pace.

Katsuki glanced to the left of him automatically, expecting commentary when Present Mic announces the heroes in attendance—their very own All Might. Izuku only managed to vibrate in his seat in glee, the scar on the right side of his face shining for some reason or another.

Did the nerd really believe the old man wouldn’t show or something? Idiot.

The diplomas came after some long winded speeches, the annoyingly capable rat standing at the head of the podium. Probably didn’t even need a list of names, what with every student gaining some notoriety in the war.

Izuku came first, because of course he did.

The room erupted in applause, hoots and hollers and stomping came from his classmates, a loud uproar from families and friends behind them.

Katsuki wasn’t surprised, the nerd fucking deserved it. Every single clap, every cheer, every tearful smile and sigh of relief.

Izuku stood, straight back and smiling. Bowed politely as he accepted his diploma, had some words with the rat that Katsuki couldn’t hear because of the drumming in his ears.

He was the picture of composure and success, and Katsuki found himself smiling anyway. Arm aching as he clenched his fist against his side inside of his jacket, but the smile stayed on his face.

Tiny, brief, gone before anyone noticed. But pride swelled up inside of him despite it all. Because there he was.

Izuku.

Actually standing there, receiving a diploma that he’d earned with actual blood and sweat and god damn cry baby tears. Graduating.

Alive.

After everything. Their first year, ripping himself limb from limb to try and control his quirk, a fucking war with them at the frontline, and–everything that came after. All of it.

He’d made it. They’d made it. The realization settled somewhere deep underneath his diaphragm. Warm, steady, the kind of feeling Katsuki didn’t know how to name.

So he ignored it, naturally.

As the cheers followed him all the way back to his seat, Katsuki aimed a crooked smirk at Izuku. The head tilt and wide grin on the boy's face made it worthwhile.

Izuku settled into the seat next to him, the gentle bump of their knees somehow still took Katsuki by surprise. Even after all this time of Izuku disregarding his own personal bubble, it still stirred something balmy in his chest.

One by one, names of their classmates were called. Students crossed the stage, bowed and thanked the rat, applause echoed through the arena.

Katsuki found himself patting the side of his pants with his left hand in acknowledgment. Which felt bizarre. Because he knew these people, actually knew them. Not just as classmates or allies or fellow survivors.

As people. Real people.

With favorite foods and terrible habits and even more ridiculous dreams. But somewhere along the way, they’d become important. Maybe even friends, with names he actually knew but refused to use on principle.

Frog, Four Eyes, Pink Cheeks, Shoji, Rock Face, Ears, Tail, Tape Arms and the rest of his idiots. Even fucking Half n’ Half.

Everyone.

The feeling pressed against his sternum strangely, because when the fuck had that happened? When had these people become his people? People that he knew and trusted and would lay his life on the line for.

Izuku chuckled beside him as Sparky stumbled slightly on his way back to his seat, like he’d immediately turned to see if Katsuki saw it. Katsuki smirked as he continues to stare forward,because fuck if he’d give Izuku the satisfaction, bumped his shoulder against the other quietly.

The thought lingered as another name was called, another student crossed the stage, another round of applause followed. And then—

“Bakugo Katsuki.”

The arena exploded, obviously.

Katsuki ignored it. Walked up to the stage and accepted the diploma. And he stared down at it, because the folder felt heavier than it should, the edges hard beneath his fingers.

Years of work, of struggle, of pain, of fucking trauma and copious amounts of sweat. All reduced into a single sheet of paper in a folder.

Complete.

For as long as he could remember, he’d been moving toward something. Always the next goal. The next challenge. The next victory. And suddenly—

There wasn’t a next.

There was only forward.

And for the first time in his life, Katsuki wasn’t entirely sure what that looked like. Even if he knew all the background stuff and next steps, none of it felt real. Not like it should at least. Like it was all intangible and impossible without—

The applause faded, the rat gestured for him to turn around with a polite smile.

Katsuki scowled and turned, continued back to his seat gripping onto the single folder in a tight hold. And there it was, that bright beam, like the sun had exploded directly onto Izuku’s mouth.

He tilted his head in recognition, smirked back at him with the cockiness of the asshole he was born as. The smile in his vision only disappeared when he turned back to the stage, and the diploma remained heavy in his hand.

The scarred fingertips pressing into the vein against the side of his wrist made his grip loosen slightly.

Four Eyes delivered the valedictorian speech, because of course he did. The class president stood stiff and dignified at the podium. Spoke of perseverance and community, growth and hope, the future.

All the usual bullshit. Katsuki listened with half an ear behind the stage; Copy Cat somehow beside him but bouncing on his toes just the same.

Mostly because he was still annoyed, not because the Class Prez had become valedictorian; that would’ve been understandable.

The problem was that he’d won by such a small margin, a fraction of some points. It had felt like a personal attack for a while, Katsuki had spent almost an entire week calculating exactly how many points he’d missed by.

Not because he cared. Obviously. He absolutely gave a damn about it. The bastard—but Katsuki could grudgingly acknowledge the speech was good. He wouldn’t admit to himself that he’d probably do a much worse job.

At least he’d beaten Ponytail to salutorian, that remained deeply satisfying.

The speech ended with something incredibly earnest, and without thinking, Katsuki glanced to the left of him.

Copy Cat looked back at him in bewilderment, then like he was gearing up for another crappy monologue. Katsuki turned back to the wall in front of him with a scoff and a scowl.

The closing ceremony arrived right on his cue of a Go Beyond from Four Eyes, a wild grin forming on his face with the hard explosion cracking the wall in front of him. The loose sleeve of his right arm flapping against the propulsive wind, launched explosions into the sky with his unfortunate circumstance of a comrade beside him.

He hadn’t planned to say anything, but the words came out of him anyway, “And show the world what we can do!”.

Fuck it—Plus Ultra.

Katsuki could admit he’d enjoyed himself after the fact. What with the crowd cheering wildly and hair being pushed back—the atmosphere felt lighter.

Relieved. As though an entire generation had finally exhaled.

Katsuki looked beyond the crowd and found those eyes anyway as he continued shooting out explosions. And somehow, the joy in those eyes burned brighter than any explosion he could ever make.

When the ceremony–finally–ended, his classmates filed out together in a line. Katsuki found himself somewhere near the front, Izuku directly behind him. The crowd continued to applaud for the whole lot of morons.

Izuku faltered slightly behind him, and his own nosy ass couldn’t help but lean back into him and turn to see what slowed him down.

To the side of them, All Might stood surrounded by their teachers, eyes bright and shining in that new way he’d adopted after the war.

Or maybe lost before it and found again.

A grin tugged at his mouth because after everything, the man was still his idol, still the person he admired and needed to surpass. He wouldn’t admit that that goal seemed a bit different now anyway. Except—

Their friends clustered into a giant group of chaos outside of the entrance, people crying and cheering, hugging one another with promises to stay in touch. An overwhelming amount of laughter through tears surrounded the space beyond him.

He turned to catch Izuku’s eye, and moved forward on instinct. He made it just a foot beyond him, but some extra was tugging on the arm reaching out for Katsuki with a loud laugh and whoop of excitement. Katsuki faltered.

Because—because he’d always have another moment. There always had been.

They’d inevitably end up walking back to the dorms together at any rate. There’d be another time where those eyes would be focused on him and him alone.

He’d allow it this time.

Izuku only shrugged helplessly at him with a small grin on his lips as he was dragged away to join the laughter of their classmates.

Kirishima bellowed out a yell as he tackled him from behind, bulky arms slung over his shoulders and leaning heavily against his back.

Katsuki caught himself shifting his weight before Kirishima’s bad habits could throw of the sense of balance he was still trying to perfect.

The shitty haired idiot tugged him into a hug with backslapping and all. Katsuki stood stiff but allowed it, just for today. The rest of his idiots were jumping up and down in a group hug that he ducked out of immediately.

He still stood by them regardless, the edges of his mouth pulling up as he watched Mina be crushed by three men that didn’t know their own strength. Sero bumped his tape elbows into Kaminari’s chin, and the electric dunce took it all in stride as they kept jumping.

Jirou nudged her shoulder against his lower bicep as they watched, and Katsuki could only huff quietly, “Fucking idiots.”

But the corners of his mouth stayed pulled up for it all.

He glanced to his left, and Izuku was there holding someone else’s flowers as they leaned down to tie their shoe. Izuku glanced up like he knew, and an ear-to-ear beam greeted Katsuki before the boy stumbled forward on awkward deer legs.

The extra beneath Izuku popped back up and profusely started bowing away at him in thanks. Izuku paused to shake his head and flutter his hands out in chaotic nerves at the bows.

Katsuki turned away before he could embarrass himself by running up to the nerd or something.

Ahead, All Might stood surrounded by students, eyes wet and grinning brightly. Beside him, Aizawa looked exhausted and resigned. Like he’d rather die than admit he cared.

Katsuki smirked, couldn’t help it. The idiots had gotten them this far.

The loud laugh somewhere to the side of him had him glancing sideways again, Izuku was there helping Pink Cheeks with her mascara and giggling.

Katsuki shook his head and tucked his diploma more firmly into his right arm, using his left hand to loosen the tie at his neck.

Izuku looked up at that moment, pulled away from his giggling to move towards him like there was a magnetic field connecting them.

Katsuki began to move forward too—

Before a too small hand was tugging at the loose sleeve of his jacket, dragging his attention downwards.

The old hag swiped at her eyes with a tissue and dragged him into a hug that ended in her pulling him down by the ear to dig her knuckles into his scalp. His father joined them shortly after, his wing span encasing them both.

Katsuki endured approximately six seconds of a group hug before ducking out of their arms with an obnoxiously loud groan.

“Damn extras.”

His mother only cried harder against his fathers shoulder. He could only deal with so much parental pride before he eventually escaped.

And the first thing he did—the very first thing he willingly did—

Was look for Izuku.

He ducked past empty spaces between people, hand clutching onto the folder against his side as he leaned on his toes searching the sea of heads for broccoli hair he somehow lost in the chaos. The realization irritated him immediately, but not enough to stop him.

He found him near the center, surrounded as usual.

Pink Cheeks was laughing beside him, Four Eyes emotional despite Half n’ Half trying to awkwardly attempt comfort. Auntie was behind them with tears dribbling down her chin, and somehow his parents had found them before he even did because they were beside her. All Might stood tall and visibly struggling at holding back tears.

Everyone gathered around him, looking at him and celebrating him.

And Izuku—

Smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He comforted people with gentle hands on shoulders, reassuring grins, accepted congratulations and laughed along. He listened when people talked, bowed politely in thanks as more and more people came up to him.

But Katsuki noticed the flex in his fingers after he thanked someone. It was tiny, almost invisible. But he noticed.

The too quick grip and let go when Izuku hugged someone, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he nodded listening to someone else, the stiff way he held himself as he bowed.

Izuku held everything together. Just like always.

Katsuki watched, something cold settling low in his stomach. Because he knew.

He knew—

For a second neither of them spoke.

Then Izuku let out a slow breath.

“Can I tell you something?”

Katsuki’s nails dug into his palms as his stomach sank. Because he fucking hated questions like that. Because nobody ever asked that unless the answer was going to suck.

“Tch,” he stood silently in place next to the couch, unwilling to sit, “You’re already halfway there.”

Izuku smiled, gentle and quiet, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders but he’d continue to grit his teeth and bare it anyway.

“I think tomorrow’s the last day.”

Katsuki frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion because no shit—, “The hell are you talking about?”

“The embers,” the smile never quite left Izuku’s face, and Katsuki felt sick because of it, “I can barely feel One For All anymore.”

Silence.

Katsuki hated the way he said it, not emotional or dramatic. Like it was a fact of life, like he was talking about the weather. And it grated at his nerves, because it couldn’t be true. If it was—he’d have to burn the whole god damn world down in his strife.

So Katsuki waited. For the rest of it. The correction, the punchline, the part where Izuku said All Might was working on theories or Recovery Girl was monitoring it. For the fucking “but”.

It never came.

The word left his mouth before he could stop himself, “…No.”

Izuku blinked, tilted his head in that way he does sometimes when he’s trying to figure out a problem, “No?”

“No,” the word came out harsher this time. Harder than he’d meant it. Because absolutely the fuck not. That wasn’t how it worked. All Might had carried the embers for years. Years.

And tomorrow was graduation. Tomorrow was supposed to—

“No.”

Izuku looked down into the coffee warming his hands, a sad smile pulled at his lips as he rubbed the pads of his scarred thumbs against the ceramic, “I thought it’d last longer too.”

“So it’ll last longer.”

Katsuki trembled with the effort of keeping his voice down, but it felt useless. He wanted to go outside and fucking scream.

A tiny shake of Izuku’s head as he glanced back up at him, “I don’t think it will.”

“The hell do you mean you don’t think?”

“I know my quirk.”

“It isn’t your quirk!” The words echoed between them before he could snatch them back.

The regret seeped through his skin immediately, the flash of hurt that spread over Izuku’s face fucking ached. Drilled a hole straight into Katsuki’s chest and reminded him of back then, back when he wasn’t Izuku’s friend or ally or—anything.

But Izuku kept talking anyway before he could utter an apology, “No,” his voice stayed impossibly gentle, “I guess it never really was.”

Katsuki hated that answer. Hated it even more than he hated himself for bringing it out of him in the first place. Because it sounded like acceptance, like he’d already made peace with it. And Katsuki couldn’t fucking breathe.

Izuku looked back down to his coffee, and Katsuki’s eyes burned as he watched.

“I don’t know. I can just…”, Izuku searched for the words quietly “…feel it.”

He pulled his hand away from the mug and turned it over, flexed his fingers once.

“It isn’t gone,” another pause, where his voice stayed frustratingly calm, “But it’s… fading. Like trying to hold onto the last bit of heat after a fire’s already gone out.”

Quiet. A quiet that Katsuki felt seep into his bones like ash and trembled where he still stood. But he couldn’t look away, couldn’t keep his eyes from reddening along the edges with each word that left Izuku’s mouth.

“So maybe it’ll be tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

His apartment.

Their licenses.

Everything they’d spent years crawling toward, burned to ash, burned to nothing because—

Tomorrow.

“…No.”

Izuku huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, finally looked back up at him, “You’ve said that already.”

“I’m saying it again,” Katsuki’s jaw tightened as another silence settled between them. Because that shit wasn’t normal to them. It was long enough for Katsuki to realize his palms were beginning to ache from how tightly he’d clenched them.

It wasn’t awkward though, and that somehow made everything worse.

Finally—

“And you’re just—fucking okay with that?”

Izuku didn’t answer right away. He looked out through the window into the empty courtyard, thinking. The campus remained quiet, tomorrow it wouldn’t be theirs anymore.

“I don’t know.”

The honesty of it caught Katsuki off guard, and he recoiled back like Izuku just wrapped a noose around his neck. But he stayed hooked and standing anyway.

Then Izuku smiled again, soft, almost sheepish, “I think I have to be.”

Bullshit. Something twisted hot beneath Katsuki’s ribs, as his knees finally weakened and he leaned his palms against the edge of the couch.

Have to.

Like there wasn’t another choice.

“Aren’t you pissed?”

Izuku glanced over in concern, before his mouth twisted in a tiny grin, surprised enough to laugh, “A little.”

“‘A little?’”

“I mean…” he set the mug against his knee, used his other hand to rub at the back of his neck, “It would’ve been nice.”

Katsuki frowned.“…Nice.”

“To stay a hero a little longer,” Izuku corrected, but there wasn’t any bitterness in his voice, not an ounce of resentment. Only a quiet sort of disappointment. Like talking about rain on the day of a picnic.

“I always pictured us graduating together,” his smile grew smaller this time, “And then.. working beside everyone…”

The words hit Katsuki harder than they should have. Because he’d pictured that too—imagined it so clearly it was practically embedded into his skull. He’d never said it out loud, never even really admitted it to himself. It had simply…

Been there.

A future where one of them moved and the other kept chasing after them. For the rest of their lives.

“…But I think I’m really just—scared.”

Katsuki looked back at him sharply. Really looked at him, at the tired eyes, the tiny smile that somehow stayed, the way he kept wrapping both hands around a mug that had long since stopped steaming. And the idiot looked—

Fine.

And somehow that pissed Katsuki off more than if he’d been crying like he usually did. Katsuki struggled to find the words for comfort, for reassurance, for—

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki inhaled sharply, let the quiet dread wrap around his frame as he ducked his head down, the fight draining from him, “…What.”

“I’m glad I got to tell you first.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed down at the green fabric of the couch, wanting to sink into it until he’d wake up and realize it was all a dream, “Why me?”

Izuku shifted in his seat, Katsuki could hear the tug of fabric of his pajamas, “Because you’re you.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, and nothing came out. It hadn’t happened before, not with Izuku, but tonight seemed to be full of shitty revelations.

And his hand twitched anyway where it rested on the edge of the couch, moving half an inch above it before he stopped. It fell back to his thigh uselessly.

Izuku stood, setting the empty mug on the coffee table in front of him. Katsuki didn’t even have the energy to mutter something about it, because the world was already upside down anyway.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Izuku murmured.

Katsuki finally shut his eyes as he continued to lean against the couch, the air around his shoulder felt charged, but touch never came.

“See you tomorrow, Kacchan,” and with that, Izuku quietly made his way up the stairs.

Katsuki didn’t move, only stared down the coffee mug Izuku had left behind.

“…No.”

The room, for once, didn’t argue back.

He zones back in on the picture of Izuku surrounded and couldn't find a single crack in his smile. Not one.

No hesitation. No grief. No anger.

Nothing.

Only smiles and gratitude. Only sunlight. The picture of a boy who had lost nothing, a man who had no reason to mourn.

And that—

That was what felt wrong. Not because Izuku looked sad or broken; but because he didn’t. Because he should have.

Because somewhere beneath the congratulations and the laughing and the celebration—

One For All was gone.

Forever.

And yet Izuku stood there comforting everyone else, as if they were the ones who’d lost something. Nobody questioned his smile.

Katsuki continues to stare as the pull in his chest hauls him closer to the center, taking one step in front of the other automatically to reach him. He watches as another person walks away from Izuku, reassured that the world was a better place with him as a hero.

The unease threaded through the old stitching in his heart, pulling tight and sharp. Wrong. Because Katsuki knew Izuku, better than most people, better than anyone gave him credit for.

And that smile—

That perfect, shining smile—

hello bkdk nation i’m looking for a fic i absolutely cannot find for the life of me

[nsfw ahead]

so basically it’s one of those one shots where they’re strangers and deku likes getting off on those electric horse toys for children (???) (he’s fully clothed) because of the vibration ig? and he can’t get fully satisfied otherwise? but it’s in a public space so he always goes at odd hours i think.

well he goes to his trusted toy and is doing his business and i think bakugou shows up? and watched him? and knows what he’s doing? so he tells deku he can do better than that toy but deku doubts it cause he tried vibrating toys. and then they go have sex somewhere and on the way bakugo buys a vibrating c*ck ring on a vending machine (????) and then he puts it on himself and lays back and lets deku ride him and they have really good sex and deku is impressed. and that’s it lol

Side Effects May Include by SuiCausa

༻ BKDK ༶ 91.852k ༶ E ༺

In A Sky Of A Million Stars (Who Cares If One More Light Goes Out?) by Stringlish

༻ BKDK ༶ (ongoing) ༶ M ༺

the art of non-seduction by gabstar

༻ BKDK ༶ 18.450k ༶ E ༺

Fucking Obvious by nothing_left_sacred

༻ BKDK ༶ 28.864k ༶ E ༺