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“I have a problem.”
Izuku looks up from his notebook to give his full attention to Shouto. He frowns when he sees him, though. “What happened? You don’t look so great.”
Shouto fidgets. “I lost my phone.”
“Oh,” Izuku blinks. “I’m sorry, Todoroki-kun! I can help you look out for it, don’t worry! I’ll text the group chat so they can help us, too. You just have to calm down and remember where you were before—”
“That’s not the problem,” Shouto shakes his head. “I found it. Or, kind of—”
“Is that so…?”
“Yes, I went to the campus’ library this morning, so I thought I could have left it there,” Shouto sits down in front of him. “I asked the librarian about it and I was right, it was there. She described it, and it was my phone.”
Izuku’s face brightens up. “That’s good!”
Shouto shakes his head again. “It is, but it’s also not, because there’s still a problem.”
Izuku face falls. “Oh…”
“The problem is, she told me she gave it to the owner already—”
Izuku’s eyes widen. “Did someone steal your phone—?”
“Not really—” Shouto grimaces. “She said she gave it to the person that was on the home screen—”
Izuku blinks.
“And I might have… Katsuki’s… photo… as my wallpaper…”
With every word he adds, Shouto lowers the volume of his voice more and more, a knot thick on his throat.
“Oh,” Izuku says, before fits of giggles start pouring out from him.
Shouto glares, mortified. “Hey—”
Izuku tries to bite down his laughter behind his hand, but it doesn’t help one bit. “Sorry—”
“It’s not funny,” Shouto groans, burying his face into his hands. “I want to move out of Japan now.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Izuku laughs. “I just think it’s cute. Kacchan probably thinks is endearing, too.”
“There’s no way he’d think that,” Shouto peeks through the space between his fingers. “He’d think I’m weird. He doesn’t even call us friends. I don’t know how am I supposed to face him now.”
“Okay, he might be surprised, yes,” Izuku concedes. “But I don’t think he’d find you weird. If anything, he’d find it flattering.”
“Nope,” Shouto shakes his head once more, then lets it fall against the surface of the desk with a loud thump. His forehead would have hurt if he wasn’t so focused on freaking out. “I’m moving out of Japan, goodbye.”
“You’re exaggerating—”
“I am absolutely not—” Shouto groans, face planted on the desk firmly. Maybe if he doesn’t move long enough, he’d disappear on thin air. “I’m moving to America; they have lots of cats there. If Katsuki finds me before, then it was nice knowing you. Tell the others I died because of love and that I had a good life because of you all—”
“You know,” Izuku snorts. “You and Kacchan have a lot of things in common. For one, you’re both extremely dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic,” Shouto insists. “He’ll never want to talk to me again and—”
“Kacchan won’t do that—”
“Oi, nerd,” Someone says behind Izuku, dropping his bag on the seat next to him, and Shouto freezes, feels bony icy fingers running down his spine. Oh no. “Don’t talk about other people behind their backs, ass.”
“Ah, Kacchan,” Izuku says, like nothing, smiling and grinning.
Of course. He’s not the one who’s going to get murdered.
“Ba—kugou,” Shouto says, stiff, straightening his back on the chair.
Katsuki quirks an eyebrow at him. “Not ‘Katsuki’ today, Shortcake?”
Ah.
“Uh.”
Katsuki scans Shouto’s face with an unreadable expression for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes and then sits down. He takes Shouto’s phone out of the pocket of his jacket and pushes it over the surface of the desk until it touches Shouto’s hand.
“There,” he says. “The librarian gave it to me this morning.”
“Ah.” Shouto nods, awkward. “Thank you…”
He doesn’t know what else to say, looks down at his hands to avoid Katsuki’s piercing gaze, feels his cheeks getting hotter with every passing second.
The silence makes his skin itch; makes him feel anxious and suffocated.
It’s weird. Silence has never been a source of discomfort for him when he’s around Katsuki. Now, he just wants the floor to swallow him whole.
Izuku looks between them, as if they were playing a ping-pong match, and then stands up.
Shouto immediately shoots him a panicked look. Please don’t leave, he begs.
Izuku smiles reassuringly at him, but he doesn’t feel soothed in the slightest.
“I’ll go for something at the cafeteria and come back,” he pats Katsuki’s shoulder, who hasn’t stopped staring at Shouto for even one second. “Have fun talking, you two.”
He says that, but when he goes away, they don’t talk.
Shouto fidgets in his place, curls his fingers and looks down at his phone like it personally offended him, and Katsuki fixes his eyes attentively on him all the time, but he’s not talking either, just there—crossing his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly to the side, leaning back on the chair.
Then, after the silence is being too suffocating, Shouto finally looks up.
“It’s not what you think,” he starts.
Katsuki quirks an eyebrow.
“I—” Shouto swallows. “It wasn’t me.”
Katsuki eyes him. “Isn’t that your phone?”
“I mean, it is.” Shouto starts rambling, saying everything in a probably incoherent row of words. “But it’s—you see, I lent it to Touya-nii yesterday, and he changed my home screen.” He’s aware of how ridiculous everything sounds, especially when he keeps talking, finishes lamely as if it was a question instead of him narrating how much of an ass his big brother is. “I just—forgot… to change it back?”
Katsuki stares pointedly. “He changed it.”
“Yes,” Shouto says, and then wants to bang his head against the nearest wall and fall unconscious. Probably have amnesia, that’d help. (He’ll probably fall for Katsuki all over again, but he won’t remember his humiliation in front of him right now—) “He’s an idiot sometimes.”
Katsuki hums. “That so.”
“And weird,” Shouto hastily adds. “I know it’s weird, but—”
“Hmph,” Katsuki clicks his tongue, reaching over to tap the blocked screen from Shouto’s phone. “I look great in that one.”
He’s right. He does. Incredibly so. Sure, he’s not even facing front, just side-eyeing the camera, but his profile is clear and visible—he’s wearing one of his black tank-tops and a goddamn choker and the muscles of his shoulders and biceps are defined and toned thanks to the glorious light of the stage behind him, and his jawline, holy cats—
“How detailed, your brother,” Katsuki says, eyes intense on Shouto, a smirk playing sharp at his teeth as he bends over to enter Shouto’s personal space. “He cropped our group photo to have me specifically as your home screen.”
“Ah,” Shouto feels his neck simmer warmth. “Yes, weird…”
Shouto remembers, Mina enthusiastically taking group-selfies of that day. And, as Shouto was looking through them, he found himself zooming on Katsuki without even thinking, and he—god, Katsuki looked amazing.
He was sweaty and his hair was messy, and it probably should have been gross, but it wasn’t. He was glowing—lips too red, all sparking yellow shades, the smoky eyeliner dark on his eyes, making them even more enthralling, even if looking at the picture he couldn’t see both eyes.
It was probably that characteristic burning flame and that soft, happy glow he had all around him after he gave a concert, but he looked unequivocally pretty. Pleased, content, satisfied.
Shouto just—wanted to look at him every time he could, that’s all.
“You know him,” he says, huffing out a nervous brief laugh as the warmth climbs up to his cheeks at Katsuki’s stare. “He’s meticulous.”
Katsuki’s eyes dart down at Shouto’s lips, then up at his blushed cheeks, then at his nose, and finally meets his eyes again.
“I promise I’ll change it,” Shouto mumbles, trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss Katsuki right now.
He’s too close.
“Hm. You don’t have to,” Katsuki says, reaching out to brush Shouto’s hair off his forehead, then reclines back on his seat so he’s finally out of Shouto’s personal bubble. Oh. “Whatever, it’s fine. I don’t care.”
Shouto blinks.
“Are you sure…?”
“Yeah.”
A slow smirk curls up at his cherry lips, blinding white and teasing. “Thank your brother, you can see how hot I am every day.”
Ah.
Why is Bakugou Katsuki so pretty? It’s bad for Shouto’s heart, skipping a beat and doing gymnastics inside his chest like an Olympic athlete.
“Sure,” Shouto blurts out, and Katsuki snickers.
It’s then when Izuku comes back, grinning all too knowingly.
Well. It went alright, he can stay in Japan.
Good. He’d miss his friends way too much. His family too, with the exception of his old man. And both sobas—the dish and the lovely stray cat that follows him around on campus all the time (because, yes, Katsuki, he can name strays, it’s extremely valid)—more than anything else, probably; especially Katsuki’s homemade soba, and the way Soba The Cat would rub her face and side on Shouto’s leg lovingly when Shouto stops on his way to the dorms to pet her.
‘Spoiled brat,’ Katsuki would say if he was with Shouto, a fond smile on his face as he looks down at her. Then, his lips would quirk up a bit, a teasing edge and mirth in his eyes as he looked up at Shouto and nudged his arm. ‘Just like you.’
Ah, yes. He’d probably miss Bakugou Katsuki the most.
.
.
.
.
Later at night, his phone vibrates when he’s finishing a project on his desk.
Katsuki’s contact shows up on the screen, there with his name besides a cat smiley face, a cartoonish explosion, a music note and an orange heart (Those are too much emojis, Todoroki, Yaomomo had laughed when she saw it the first time; but they were all fitting! Shouto won’t change it.)
A message.
Three, to be more specific.
From: Katsuki [8:34 PM]. Oi. Are you awake?
From: Katsuki [8:35 PM]. Of course you are, why am I asking. You stay until goddamn disrespectful hours awake to read manga.
From: Katsuki [8:37 PM]. Anyway. Here, for your new wallpaper, so your shitty evil brother doesn’t win whatever he’s trying to do:
[Photo attached]
Wait.
Shouto stares.
Stares a bit more.
Then screams as he stumbles down from his chair in shock, making his notes fall over the floor.
Kirishima, his roommate, yelps from the living room. “Are you okay?!”
“Yes, yes, sorry!” Shouto hurries to yell back. “I just tripped! Everything’s alright!”
“Oh, okay! Be careful!”
It’s just—
Holy cats.
It’s Katsuki.
Katsuki. A selfie. From Katsuki.
He’s there, facing the camera this time, and he’s smiling—smirking, to be more exact, but it’s boyish and genuine and too goddamn pretty is unfair. He’s wearing his leather jacket, and a V-neck that exposes the skin of his neck and part of his collarbones.
Oh god.
From: Katsuki [8:50 PM]. Oi. Don’t leave me on read, asshole.
To: Katsuki [8:51 PM]. Sjrry, I wds staring
He texts back, misspelling and dumbly incriminating, because he is not computing correctly, and looking at Bakugou Katsuki softly eying him through the camera lens with those eyes have left him incredibly stupid to reason what he’s typing.
He realizes too late.
To: Katsuki [8:53 PM]. Wait
To: Katsuki [8:53 PM]. I mean
From: Katsuki [8:54 PM]. Lmao. Okay, shortcake
To: Katsuki [8:54 PM]. I just
To: Katsuki [8:55 PM]. Not fair. Don’t laugh
To: Katsuki [8:55 PM]. You’re too pretty. I can’t think
Ah. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that… but it’s true. He’s not backing down from his words.
From: Katsuki [8:58 PM]. Whatever.
To: Katsuki [8:58 PM]. You are >:(
From: Katsuki [8:59 PM]. I said whatever, idiot
To: Katsuki [8:59 PM]. Okay…
To: Katsuki [9:00 PM]. Thank you for sending it, I appreciate it ^^ <3
From: Katsuki [9:01 PM]. Hah, dumbass
From: Katsuki [9:02 PM]. Why do I feel like that’s exactly what you’d say if you exchanged nudes with someone
Shouto blinks, suddenly catching (metaphorically) on fire thinking about getting nudes from Katsuki; his mind buzzes, face and stomach growing hot.
To: Katsuki [9:05 PM]. Uh
Then, he thinks of something. Katsuki said exchanged.
Oh.
To: Katsuki [9:08 PM]. Here. You can put it as your wallpaper.
To: Katsuki [9:08 PM]. Now we’ll be matching c:
To: Katsuki [9:09 PM]. <3 [Photo attached]
It’s a selfie he took the day they went to the beach with their friends. The background—the ocean and sand—is blurry, but he’s not out of focus. There, Shouto is smiling—small and quiet, but happily, and doing a peace sign at the camera. He has his sunglasses over his head, pushing his hair back off his forehead, and he’s shirtless—he had swum before, so his hair and skin are slightly wet.
To be honest, Shouto wasn’t that much of a fan of posting pictures of him alone, no matter how much he adored taking photos of everything. It wasn’t about him; it was just that he preferred recording his favorite moments with his friends instead of alone. He updated his social media more with group selfies or cat photos on his Instagram, but when Mina was looking through his album to help him decide which one to post, she pointed out that he looked great on this one, so maybe Katsuki would like it.
But now, Katsuki is not replying, and he probably thinks Shouto is extremely weird, because he just sent him an unwanted selfie of him. Like a moron.
Geez, Katsuki didn’t even ask for a photo, goddammit, Shouto—
He hurries to text, embarrassed.
To: Katsuki [9:15 PM]. Sorry. That was weird. Just ignore it.
Katsuki replies almost instantly.
From: Katsuki [9:17 PM]. No, it’s fine, just.
From: Katsuki [9:18 PM]. I’m
From: Katsuki [9:18 PM]. Falling asleep
Oh. Well, it’s past Katsuki’s bedtime, so that’s probably true. No need to freak out. Alright. Oof.
To: Katsuki [9:18 PM]. Oh. I see. Good night, then :)
To: Katsuki [9:19 PM]. It was nice talking to you before sleeping ^^ <333
From: Katsuki [9:21 PM]. I
From: Katsuki [9:21 PM]. Mm. Yeah. Night
From: Katsuki [9:21 PM]. Dumbass
From: Katsuki [9:22 PM]. Don’t sleep until too late. Take care of yourself, idiot
To: Katsuki [9:22 PM]. Yes, I will, thank you for worrying ^^
From: Katsuki [9:23 PM]. I’m not worried, bastard. Whatever.
To: Katsuki [9:23 PM]. Sweet dreams! <3
From: Katsuki [9:24 PM]. Yeah, yeah. You too I guess
To: Katsuki [9:24 PM]. <3 [Sticker of a cat sleeping]. [Read].
.
.
.
The next day, when Shouto steals a glance at Katsuki’s phone and catches a glimpse of his characteristic two-toned hair, he realizes Katsuki did put the photo as his home screen.
Which means—Shouto is Katsuki’s phone wallpaper.
He can’t stop smiling all day.