Tuesday

Overrated

A/N: this chapter is mostly dialogue, hope you like it. TRIGGER WARNINGS OUT THE ASS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

"You make me nervous when you stare at me like that, you know."

It's difficult but Izuku manages to divert his gaze back to his meal, halfheartedly jabbing at his food with his fork. He hadn't even realized that he was staring. "Sorry, sweetheart, didn't mean to. Just anxious is all." He admits, taking a sip from his drink to keep himself occupied. Katsuki snorts out a laugh, twirling pasta around onto his fork. "I'd say I was too but...I think it's time someone else knew what happened. I mean, most people just think that I'm a spoiled brat who ran off cause I didn't get my way. You know, typical glamorised bullshit. Shouto's the only one who knows what happened forreal."

"Because you trusted him enough to tell?"

"Ha. I trust Shouto with all my secrets, after all. But the only reason he really knows is because he was there. Two of us have been attached at the hip since fuckin' preschool."

Izuku is staring again, watching Katsuki take a sip from his wine glass. He can't really help himself now, not when there's so much he wants---no, needs to know. But he doesn't want to rush Katsuki when this is such a delicate topic so he waits as patiently as he can manage.

He heaves a deep sigh and rolls his shoulders back, preparing himself for what's bound to be an emotional roller-coaster.

"Alright. Where do I even fuckin' start?" He asks himself with a cynical laugh. "You know my parents are workaholics. Always worried about the next show or next Met Gala. What's in season. What's perfection. And when the world sees you as perfect people, you've gotta have a perfect kid, right?"

A rhetorical question.

"I studied. I studied hard and I did the best in all of my classes but never once did I get an I'm proud of you, Katsuki or an I love you, Katsuki because that's what was fuckin' expected of me. I had one and a half million dollars worth of scholarships before I was even in my junior year. Still not good enough. We were in the same boat growing up, Shouto and I." He continues, pausing to take the rest of his wine down in one gulp. Izuku is already reaching to refill his glass before he's even sat it down.

"On top of that, I had to keep myself lookin' pretty. Cause, you know, my parents are the literal fuckin' king and queen of vanity. They scheduled me to spas twice a week. Hair, nails. Getting waxed. Getting fuckin' bleached. And yeah, I mean exactly what you think I mean. Some of the most violating shit ever and never once was I allowed to be sad or upset or anything less than arrogant because it was unbecoming of the Bakugou name. We didn't do affirmations or physical affections. Just duty."

He takes another bite of his meal, gesturing something or another with his hand. Izuku couldn't quite tell what he was trying to do. He sat quietly and allowed Katsuki to get his shit together before speaking again. Emotional neglect was definitely some tough shit to get through but Izuku knew better than to think that it was what drove Katsuki away. Katsuki was a tough boy, after all. Tough skin to match.

No, what happened must have been horribly unforgivable. Why else would they pretend Katsuki didn't even exist?

"I get the feelin' that I don't have to tell you that that's not even the reason I left. Just wanted to lay out the kind of relationship my parents and I had before shit hit the fan."

Izuku nods his affirmation. Katsuki clears his throat to start again.

"From time to time, I'd model for them. Perfect little poster boy and all that. We'd even been doing fashion week in Paris and there was an after party---the Todoroki's were in attendance as well and I was glad to at least have my best friend there to kill time with. We were way too young to be there but our parents were rich and powerful people so nobody gave a shit.

Halfway through the party, my hag wants to introduce me to someone. Someone she thought could help me in my career---that I didn't fuckin' want to begin with, mind you. He wants to hire me to model his brand and we were already doing a merger. I won't say which brand cause I don't want this to affect your work. Any of this. You hear me?" The blonde's gaze turns sharp for a moment. He's waiting for a response, Izuku knows, but he can't open his mouth and tell him that it won't because that might be a lie. He might leave here tonight and go put Masaru in the fucking ground, but he'll just have to wait and see.

A nod suffices and Katsuki continues with a deep exhale.

"So they insist I go talk to him one on one. Someplace quiet. Venue had an upstairs suite with a hell of a view so we went. Sat in some corner and he started talkin'. I should've run the moment he asked me if was old enough to drink."

There's a cold feeling in Izuku's gut as he realizes what Katsuki is implying. Or...rather...what he's hinting. What he's about to tell him is...

"He held me down and shoved my underwear down my throat so I wouldn't scream but he hit me hard enough to leave bruises. Couldn't really hide the limp that he left me with either. And I bled. It was a mess, really."

Izuku's stomach turns and the urge to empty the contents of his stomach becomes strong. He's speechless, fork clattering onto his plate as he drops it.

"I used to cry telling this story but I think...after all this time...I finally used up all the tears I even had for the situation. No more pitying myself or thinking too hard about whose fault it was."

"Katsuki...that's...that's---God, that's terrible. But..."

"But what does that have to do with my hag and old man, right?" Katsuki finishes, looking Izuku right in the eyes.

"Eventually he finished and left me to cry in my own blood and tears. They never even came to check on me when I didn't come back, just left me up there with them. Shouto found me and drove me to the emergency room. Guy tore me so much I almost bled to death. Three days later my parents come visit me in the hospital and you know what my mother asked me after hearing what he did?"

He waits, looking right through Izuku with his gaze as if he's expecting an answer. When he doesn't receive one, he shakes his head and his jaw tightens angrily.

"She asked me if I got the job. I was so goddamn hurt and confused that I kept telling her what happened thinking maybe she didn't understand but then she called me a worthless shit and told me I can't do anything right. Come to find out that it was a part of their little merger deal. I was disposable. Collateral. And after a rape investigation was launched they all convinced the police that I was some young whore trying to sleep my way through the ranks. Funny, right?"

Izuku feels his blood run cold, hands gripping the table cloth so hard that they tremble.

"Shouto and I ran away after that and...well, the rest is history. You know how it goes." He concludes with one last heavy breath, almost as if he's glad that he finally got it off of his chest. "If you think I'm lying then ask Shouto. He's about the only person who was there that night that would actually tell the fucking truth---"

"This guy. The merger went through?" Izuku's tone is deep and level but he won't look Katsuki in the eyes. The blonde hesitates a moment but go back to try and focus on his meal.

"Yeah."

"...and we work with him?"

"That's the gist, yeah. But don't do anything stupid, okay? Not over me and not when I'm over this whole thing already."

"Katsuki, I can't---"

"You can and you will. You were living a good life before you met me. I wanna keep it that way." He says, dropping his own fork and standing from the chair to push it up under the table.

"Sorry, baby. Not in the mood for dessert right now and appetite seems to have fucked off. I'm gonna go lay down. Come join me in bed when you're done?"

Izuku nods as Katsuki presses a kiss to his temple and makes his way back up to the bedroom.

It's a good thing he left; Izuku has a whole lot of emotional unpacking to do.