Stalwart Knight, Will You Protect Your King?

Fandom: BNHA/MHA

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Rating: Everyone

Warnings: None

Summary: Continuation of the BKBK Knight/King thread on Twitter! 

This is a commission for anonymous! 

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It was too early to get a message to his fellows in the resistance movement but that didn’t stop him from plopping down at the writing desk in his new quarters and stare down furiously at the blank page. They probably thought he was dead – not an unfair assumption given the last time he had been seen was when that fucker’s men had been dragging him away, chained and bleeding. Bakugo lightly rubbed his cheek, wincing when that sent a sharp pain radiating through his head. One of the guards had landed a solid blow to his left eye while he was fighting them off – damn thing was still swollen and ached terribly. That was only one of many injuries he’d sustained during that ill fated fight but the majority of them had been, forcibly, healed by the castle’s Seer. Never knew one of those old fuckers could hit so hard with their staffs – his shins were still smarting where that bastard had swept low at him, knocking him to his butt in a successful attempt to get him to stay still so he could be healed. Seemingly as punishment for not accepting the healing right off the bat, the old shitface had left the more superficial injuries alone. Broken bones and torn skin were no longer a problem, but the multitude of bruises remained, leaving him in a position where his entire body ached. 

Not that it bothered him that much. He was used to this. Been on the front lines of stupid wars after stupid wars ever since he could hold a sword. To think, though…Bakugo cast a sneaky glance over his shoulder where the young King lay sleeping on his bed. He had returned from the healer to find him in here, already asleep. It did bring him some comfort, knowing that the boy, at least, sought him out first. His companions might not believe him at first if he ever got to tell him that King Izuku, the one they had been fighting against for a few years now, wasn’t the source of the problem. No, it was that grotesque adviser. A bubble of rage rose up into Bakugo’s thought at just the memory of his face, of the way he had curled his fingers around Izuku’s shoulder, the pinky jutting out so that only four fingers were touching him. He couldn’t forget how Izuku had shuddered, looking like he was desperately trying not to pull away or cry. What part of that horrific scene had pushed him to do something like this? Was it Izuku’s tear filled eyes, flickering to meet his gaze before quickly darting away, the suffocating, gagging guilt obvious in that tortured, tormented stare? Was it how small he had looked on that throne, practically dwarfed by the immense back that stretch near to the ceiling? Or was it how desperately, terribly lonely and afraid he was? Bakugo didn’t need him to say it – it was obvious from the moment he saw him. 

Whatever the reason, he had offered up his services in exchange for servicing the King and that arrogant bastard, most likely seeing a way to degrade or humiliate him, had gleefully accepted. Now…Bakugo sighed, slowly getting to his feet. He silently walked over to the bed, grateful for his years spent tracking that gifted him with near indiscernible footsteps. The boy did not stir when he stopped by the side of the bed, nor when he sat down on the edge. In the dim light of the setting sun, Bakugo could just barely make out how thin Izuku was, how heavy the bags under his eyes were, the way he trembled, even in his sleep. Grimacing, gnawing on the insides of his cheek, Bakugo hesitated then so very slowly, so very carefully reached out and gently stroked Izuku’s hair. That got a reaction – his small body violently jolted. With a sharp, choking gasp, he shot upright. Huge, terrified eyes darted around the room before settling on him. When that pale face turned up to look at him, a sharp jab of pain pierced through his heart. 

Offering a small smile, Bakugo said, “It’s okay. It’s only me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come in here without permission. I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered, his voice barely audibly. He began to shift to the other side of the bed, his terrified eyes dropping down, “I’ll go. I’ll go right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Bakugo managed to say around the massive lump in his throat. Rage burned like a wildfire in the center of his chest. It had always been certain in his mind but as he watched Izuku tremble in terror for something so simple, he knew without a single doubt: he was going to kill that bastard in the most horrific, inhumane way possible. Holding his hand out to Izuku, hating the way he flinched back, Bakugo said, “I don’t sleep well in a new place by myself so stay with me, yeah?”

Izuku slowly raised his head to look up at him with a startled, uncertain stare. Still holding out his hand, Bakugo waited patiently to see what he would do. After what felt like an eternity, Izuku slowly nodded. One tiny, shaky hand reached out to take Bakugo’s hand. It took a couple of tries – Izuku kept jerking back as though he thought Bakugo might suddenly grab him but when he remained still, his fingers not so much as twitching, Izuku eventually worked up the nerve, hesitantly placing his hand into Bakugo’s. Sighing, wondering how someone like Izuku had wound up in this position but figuring that was a question best left for another day, Bakugo leaned down to gently press a kiss to the palm of Izuku’s hand. A tremble visibly raced up Izuku’s arm. Two bright spots of red appeared in his pale cheeks. To Bakugo’s alarm, Izuku let out a hiccuping sob, which was quickly followed by an avalanche of tears. He moved without thought, gathering the small boy into his arms, cradling him close to his chest. Stroking the back of his head, he went to ask what’s wrong but caught his tongue. He didn’t need to ask – the answer was obvious. When was the last time someone had treated him like this? When was the last time someone had reached out to him, not to hurt him but to hold him? 

How long had he been trapped in this miserable hell, held prisoner by that freak? Bakugo couldn’t bear to think of it. Curling his arms tighter around Izuku’s shaking frame, he whispered into his ear, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

There was no response from Izuku, who was crying to hard to form words. That was alright, though. He didn’t need to say anything. All Bakugo wanted was for him to know that he wasn’t the enemy. He had sworn his fealty to him and by the Gods, he was going to do everything in his power to protect him. The resistance would need time to regroup but…they finally knew who they were truly up against. Bakugo pressed a soft kiss to Izuku’s temple. It had been a very long time since he felt so driven to spill blood but…that bastard would know the taste of his sword by the end of this year. For everything he had done to Izuku, Bakugo would make him suffer.