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The streets of Musutafu were empty, the storm rolling in fast and heavy. Rain fell in thick sheets, soaking everything in seconds. Thunder rumbled low in the distance. But none of that mattered. Not to Bakugo. Not right now.
Katsuki Bakugo stood in the middle of the park, drenched from head to toe, his hands clenched at his sides, jaw tight. His hair was plastered to his forehead, blond spikes weighed down by the storm. His eyes, though—those sharp, burning red eyes—were locked onto the one person who could undo him with just a glance.
Izuku Midoriya stood a few feet away, also soaked, his green curls sticking to his face, his freckles more vivid against pale skin. He was shivering slightly, though it wasn’t clear if it was from the rain or the intensity of Bakugo’s gaze.
“Why’d you run out here like that, Kacchan?” Izuku called over the downpour, his voice cracking with worry. “You could’ve gotten sick—”
“Shut up, Deku!” Bakugo shouted, stepping forward, water splashing beneath his boots. “Just… shut up for once and listen to me!”
Izuku froze, wide green eyes blinking at him. “Kacchan…?”
Bakugo’s chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe through the words that had been choking him for years.
“I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t eat me alive,” he spat, voice rough. “I tried. Damn it, I tried. But every time I see you smile, every time you push yourself so damn hard, every time you look at someone else like they mean the world…”
He took another step closer.
“I hate how much I love you.”
Izuku’s breath hitched. The rain kept falling, but it felt like the world had gone still.
“I love you, Deku,” Bakugo said, softer now, barely above a whisper, like he was terrified of the words but too tired to hold them in any longer. “I’ve been in love with you since before I even knew what it meant. And it’s not some weak, fluffy thing—I love you in a way that burns. It’s loud, and messy, and it makes me feel alive. You make me feel alive.”
The wind shifted. Izuku’s eyes welled up with more than just rain now. His lip trembled.
“Kacchan…”
Bakugo reached out, hesitating just for a second before cupping Izuku’s face, thumbs brushing over wet cheeks.
“I don’t need you to say it back. I just needed you to know. I’m yours, whether you want me or not.”
Izuku surged forward, arms wrapping tightly around Bakugo’s neck, pulling him into a kiss that tasted like rain, like salt, like every unspoken word they’d ever buried.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard, Izuku smiled through his tears.
“I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered. “I just didn’t think you’d ever want me back.”
Bakugo scoffed, his voice raw. “Idiot. I’ve only ever wanted you.”
And as the rain poured down around them, the two boys stood in the storm—no longer running from the truth, but finally, finally letting themselves be in love.