Archive of Our Own ^beta

The knuckleheads must have been staring at him many times for a long time now, but this is the first time that Katsuki actually noticed, dropping his hand and smirking at Deku’s grateful grin before turning to the rest of the idiots, who are all gawking at him.

It’s heroics class so there’s nothing special going on. Ground Gamma is being set up for the next batch of people doing the exercise, so Katsuki has the time to raise an expectant eyebrow after a few blinks. Deku has been called away by his group of extras for some last minute prep or something, leaving him with the rest of the chucklefucks, and their stares are starting to get uncomfortable.

“… What.”

It takes a while for them to answer properly, but it’s Tape Arm’s quick, not at all subtle jab to Shitty Hair’s ribs that eventually makes one of them talk.

“No, it’s nothing Bakugou,” Shitty Hair says, all soothing tones and shark-like smiles as he directs a wince towards Tape Arms. “Just… we were wondering about something.”

“’bout what.” Katsuki grunts, fixing his ear protection and checking if his gauntlets are properly secured around his arms.

“If you and Midoriya are…”

The pause lengthens. A vein starts to throb on Katsuki’s forehead. “Are?”

“A thing.” Pinky butts in, grinning as she stands beside Shitty Hair. “Because you’re acting really lovey-dovey lately and you’re not trying to hide it all, if you are. I mean, we love you Baku-babe, and of course we’ll always support you and Midorin. Just letting you know, uh, in case you think you can’t trust us with that,” she elaborates, making a face at the thought of being untrustworthy. But the expression disappears as quickly as it comes, giggling as Shitty Hair elbows her much more lightly with an accompanying shush.

This time, it’s Katsuki who stares.

Because him?

Deku?

Together?

What?

“What? Deku and I?” He says slowly, trying to check if he is hearing them properly. Are his ear mufflers faulty or something? “You think I’m dating Deku? What the fuck?”

Sure, they’re getting along better nowadays. But dating? As in two people that’s in a romantic relationship?

Are they actually high right now? What the hell are they talking about? His relationship with the nerd isn’t something so easily quantifiable, but they definitely aren’t going out. Why are the side characters even thinking about it? Are they touched in the head or something?

Speaking of which…

What is his relationship with Deku right now?

Classmate? Nah, too distant, if accurate. Schoolmate? Even more so. Rival? Deku wishes he’s at Katsuki’s level right now. Maybe in 50 years, once One-for-All has been mastered and they can properly duke it out, no holds barred at 100 percent power.

Friend, maybe? Don’t make him laugh, he has never been Deku’s friend. His shithead attitude when they were kids is enough to stop that noise immediately, and until now Katsuki is still trying to make amends for the years of abuse and cruelty he forced the other through.

The most he’ll admit to when it comes to the nerd is that they’re childhood playmates once upon a distant time, even if that particular descriptor is both too explicit and not enough at the same time.

Deku is… Deku. Katsuki’s attitude towards him might be slightly better compared to the past, but he’s never granted the other any special treatment that’s different from the rest of their current cohorts. That, Katsuki is 100 percent sure of.

…

…

Unless knowing where Deku’s shit is counts? Like his wallet, phone, notebook, earphones?

But that’s only because Deku is a walking, clumsy, forgetful disaster when it comes to everything else except hero stuff. It’s irritating when the nerd constantly asks Katsuki where this and that are, like he would fucking know where Deku kept his dark blue sweater or his stack of sticky notes or whatever the fuck it is that he needs at that particular moment.

(Inside the second cabinet of the closet. On his desk, bottom shelf. Probably, as long as he doesn’t spazz a lot while trying to find them, because Deku has shitty eyes and the shittier memory and attention span of a goldfish.

Deku should count himself lucky that Katsuki can even remember where half of the things he asks are.)

The rest of them blink, stupefied expressions on their faces. Shitty Hair starts to speak, “But Bakugou, I swear you two are—”

“Everyone, are we ready?” Deku appears then, apparently done yapping with his group. Katsuki frowns, seeing that a wayward curl is already poking out from the side after he just laid it flat a few minutes ago. His hand twitches, but it doesn’t move to fix it. Honestly, leave Deku alone for a few minutes and he’s already ruining Katsuki’s hard work. “Aizawa-sensei told me that we should gather at the front, the next groups are starting soon. Oh, by the way, Kacchan, would you happen to know where—”

“First pouch on your utility belt’s left side. Goddamnit Deku, I thought I told you to remember where I put it.” Katsuki reaches forward to snap open the said pocket, bringing out the packet of highlighters the nerd brings around for his note-taking. “Ask me about your stuff again and I’ll throttle you, scrub.”

“Oh, thank you, Kacchan!” Deku beams instead, eyes bright and green as he dimples at Katsuki for a brief moment, before turning to the rest of the group.

Who is staring at them in complete disbelief.

“Is… there something wrong, Ashido-san?” Now it’s Deku who sounds lost, and Pinky gives an aggravated sigh, hooking her arms around Shitty Hair and Tape Arm’s elbows.

“Forget it. They won’t get it until someone takes a stick and literally beats them up with it. Let’s go.” Katsuki watches with furrowed brows, confusion rising, as the girl drags the other two away, just in time for Dunce Face to appear, all costumed up and ready to roll.

“Sensei said it’s time to come closer and watch— and I heard who’s beating who with a stick now?”

Deku catches his eye for a few seconds, before shaking his head the same time Katsuki does, a look passing between them as they follow the rest to the large screens.

Their classmates are weird. They should be used to this already.

Even though the conversation never comes up again afterwards, it’s already planted in Katsuki’s mind, a seed that starts to grow and twist into something with sharp, intrusive thorns.

The idea won’t leave him alone.

Him. Deku.

Together.

Why did Pinky even say that? Why do they look so stunned when Katsuki tells them the truth? He apparently will ’never get it’? Is there something to get in the first place?

The thought sends a fissure of unease through Katsuki. Despite sharing a collective braincell, his knuckleheads are never this cryptic, not with him, at least. Usually he’ll merely brush it off, but there’s something about the thought of Deku and him being… involved in that way that makes him shudder.

… But not in distaste or disgust.

Nope. No way, nuh-uh, U-Turn, Do Not Pass Go. No. He’s not going to think about it. He doesn’t have the time or energy to, not right now when he needs to concentrate on what he’s doing.

“Hey, Kacchan!” Deku comes into the kitchen the next early evening, with the rest of the class somewhere within the same building doing things that Katsuki can care less about. It’s close to dinnertime, and while some of them will come in and willingly help him with the preparations and cooking, there are just times that he wants to do things alone. The method of food preparation can be meditative, and Katsuki would rather keep busy doing something productive and beneficial to himself than give himself a headache over what his classmates are up to this time around. “What’re you doing? Dinner?”

Katsuki grunts. “You have eyes, don’t you.” He doesn’t hear the nerd come in, his current position becoming more obvious as he approaches Katsuki from behind. Katsuki doesn’t look up from the onions he’s slicing on top of the counter, though he can spy the exhausted smile Deku is giving him from the corner of his eye. Deku peers around his shoulder to check what he’s doing, his front lightly pressing against Katsuki’s side. “Had a meeting with All Might?”

“Mhmm! We just needed to talk about a few things about my quirk.” This is an almost daily thing now, the nerd and the retired hero getting together to carefully document Deku’s progress with One-for-All. There are times that these meetings run late, mostly due to Deku needing to test out something new he discovered about the quirk, but it looks like it’s just a talk today.

Katsuki would have been there too to listen in, ’cause there’s no way he’ll let Deku misuse or fuck up the former Number One’s quirk, but he needs to train on his end as well. And by this point, he can be relatively assured that Deku isn’t going to kill himself anymore if he uses One-for-All, so Katsuki thinks he can leave the nerd and All Might alone for now.

(It’s probably a difficult position to be in, being the heir to a legacy that has a relatively high mortality rate. The pressure Deku has as the current user of One-for-All is immense, and as loathe as Katsuki is to admit it, it’s a duty only Deku can probably shoulder.

It seems like there’s nothing to be concerned about, since said nerd isn’t tense, nor worried.

But if Deku thinks he can do his self-sacrificing bullshit when Katsuki’s around, then he can just fuck off with that noise.

No one is dying under his watch. Especially not the shitnerd.)

“By the way, Kacchan, will you be free tomorrow afternoon?” Katsuki sees Deku close his eyes and lightly inhale, a freckled cheek almost pressed against his upper arm, close enough for Katsuki to recognize the scent of mint and vanilla nearby. “I need to test out Danger Sense and you’re the only one in class who can act antagonistically enough to set it off. Also, can I try a bite? That fried rice looks really good!”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, asshole?” Katsuki resists the urge to throw a dishtowel at Deku’s face while moving to the side to chop the vegetables, ’cause screw him, is he implying that Katsuki has the aura of a villain?

Instead, Deku laughs in his face, moving alongside him easily as the side of his face rests lightly on Katsuki’s shoulder, continuing to watch him work. “It means that you’re really good at being my training partner, Kacchan! You’ve always been the best when it comes to helping me draw out the power of One-for-All.”

“Yeah… well.” Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t bluster, this heat on his face is from the stove. Totally. And also, fuck Deku very much. “Screw it. Why the hell not. I’ll make time tomorrow. And if you wanna eat, get your own goddamn plate and sit your ass down, the food isn’t finished cooking yet.”

Deku, the shit, beams back at him, but eventually starts moving, his warmth disappearing from Katsuki’s back. He is quick to get plates and utensils, with Katsuki watching him at the corner of his eye to make sure the nerd doesn’t drop anything. Meanwhile, Katsuki tosses the rest of the ingredients into the fried rice, mixing everything up, and let it crackle for a few more minutes before turning off the flame.

The nerd eagerly parks his ass right on Katsuki’s clean, pristine countertop, and it takes him a full ten seconds of counting down in his head to calm down enough to resist smacking Deku in the face with the spatula, because he knows that Deku’s place is not in the kitchen, and he’s not, technically, doing anything wrong. The plates are passed on to him, and two scoops later, Katsuki is leaning back against the counter, watching intently as Deku scoops the first bite into his mouth.

The nerd can be a picky eater, and his habit of skipping meals has only increased after he’s gotten One-for-All. When Katsuki says that no one’s getting killed under his watch, he seriously means it, so a part of that is making sure that Deku properly feeds himself, as a pain in the ass as the process can be at times.

But Katsuki doesn’t wait for long, because Deku lights up and shuffles closer, a grin on his face appearing after a few thoughtful smacks of his lips. “This is delicious, Kacchan!” They’re at the same height now, so it’s easy enough for their eyes to meet, green loud and clear underneath long, curled, similarly colored lashes. “It’s tasty! Are you sure this is just fried rice? It’s not that spicy too!”

“Heh.” Katsuki is appropriately smug as he watches Deku eat. Hell yeah, he didn’t screw up the seasoning proportions. “Didn’t put as much chili in this one, but the heat’s still there. You only have the taste buds of a kid.”

“That’s not true! You just have an amazing tolerance for spice!” Deku digs into his portion in earnest, and there’s a sense of victory in this too, one that Katsuki is unashamedly basking in, shoulders sagging and lungs exhaling.

It’s fine. This win is right and well-earned.

… Though the nerd’s table manners leave much to be desired. “Deku, are you seriously a kid? Your face is a mess right now.”

“’Cause ish sho good!” Deku exclaims over a mouthful of rice and vegetables and Katsuki immediately cringes. Ew.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s disgusting.” Deku’s freckles are standing out all the more because of his full cheeks, and Katsuki deliberately slides his gaze away, even as he scoffs and moves to stand in front of the other. He can’t handle this level of catastrophe from the nerd, and as always, it’s Katsuki’s job as a Pro-Hero-in-training to swoop in and save the day.

“Tch. You’re so dirty, Deku.” One hand grasps the granite by Deku’s thigh, the other reaching out to slide under Deku’s ear. The other stills, almost preternaturally so, the sound of a hitching breath almost inaudible if not for their relative close distance.

But Katsuki keeps his gaze downward, thumb and forefinger plucking out a grain of rice from the corner of the nerd’s mouth. “See here? Clean up after yourself, you slob.”

“Sorry,” Deku says after a few beats. He sounds embarrassed, a blush staining his skin. And he should be, Katsuki wasn’t his damned keeper. “I just got excited, it’s rare that I can eat Kacchan’s cooking…”

He meets Katsuki’s gaze then, and when did Deku get so close?

Their chests are almost touching. The nerd’s eyes are big, alight with sparkles that actually fucking glittered, dazzling and warm as emerald clashes with crimson.

Pretty, the thought wisps at the back of Katsuki’s head, and without warning, his heart lurches inside his chest.

Without realizing it, they start to speak at the same time.

“Deku—”

“Kacchan—”

“—try the tea that my mother has graciously sent— Oh my!”

They both turn towards the direction of the voice, blinking. It’s Ponytail and Ears coming in, stopping dead by the doorway upon seeing them inside. The shock on their faces looks absurdly comical, jaws dropping and eyes more agog than Katsuki ever thought possible.

“Y-Yaoyorozu-san!” And if Deku sounded embarrassed before, now it’s become full-out mortification, voice high, strangled, and squeaky as he speaks. “Jirou-san! G-Good evening!”

“I— I deeply apologize for the intrusion, you two!” Ponytail has turned around immediately, back ramrod straight. Her ears are flushing red, slightly hidden under the slight wave of her black hair. “I had no i-intention of interrupting such a private conversation!”

“You ain’t interrupting nothin’,” Katsuki snorts, stepping back. He’s done his job anyway; now that Deku knows he needs to tidy himself up, Katsuki can finally eat his own meal in peace. “What do you want.”

Ponytail stumbles on her answer, and that prompts a quizzical raise of eyebrow from Katsuki. “T-That’s…!”

“There’s hot water still available over there for your tea if you’re looking for it, Yaoyorozu-san,” Deku pipes up from behind him, sounding almost normal, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

“Then we’ll just get some quickly and get out of your hair,” Ears blurts out, her face similarly bright in their fluster. Even the skin that’s connecting her earlobes to her jacks is pink. “Give us like, 5 minutes!”

Ears is as good as her word, in and out within the stated time frame. But her movements are weird, skittish and clumsy as she gathers her spoils and makes a quick strategic retreat out of the area. Katsuki is left staring after them, perplexed. What’s up with them?

In fact, what’s up with their classmates lately? Why are they acting so bizarrely?

“The hell was that all about.” Katsuki returns to his wok of fried rice, getting his own portion of food. He glances to the side just in time to see Deku exhale a deep breath, sagging against the counter, exhaustion on his features. “And what’s up with you? What’s wrong with everyone these days? You’re all being strange.”

“Just tired. Don’t worry about it, Kacchan.” Deku answers weakly, shaking his head. “Maybe they were busy and wanted their drinks quickly? Aren’t our friends always strange?”

“Piss off, I’m not worried about you,” Katsuki refutes immediately, because he’s not. But then he thinks about it briefly, what they could have seen and thought when they walked into the room, and once again, his heart does this unnatural, flipping, skipping motion. A hand quickly comes up to massage his sternum, attempting to calm the organ underneath down. Hell, even his heart is getting into the others’ shenanigans, and he doesn’t like it one bit. “You’re not wrong,” for once, “but they’re acting weirder than usual.”

There’s a frown in Deku’s voice as he replies. “Do you think we need to talk to them, Kacchan? Find out if there’s anything wrong, see what we can do to help out?” He looks serious, meeting Katsuki’s eyes and expecting an answer.

(And in the deepest, most secretive parts of his heart, Katsuki is still quietly appreciative that Deku still thinks that his opinions have significant value, no matter what he has done to the other in the past. That it’s enough for Deku to not decide on anything, until he knew what Katsuki thought of it. That his words still have some sway and weight behind them, despite the vitriol and hate that used to coat every syllable, the cruel and harsh statements that are as cutting and as painful as a physical blow.

If it’s Katsuki at the receiving end of everything he’s put Deku through, he’d probably never trust a word he says ever again.

But it’s Deku. Stupid, trusting, kind, forgiving Deku.

And Katsuki has learned through the hard way to never take the other’s nature for granted.

Not this time. Not anymore.)

So he seriously considers the idea. “Is it messing with anything important? Classes, hero shit? Your,” Katsuki makes a face, “ugh, friendships with your extras?”

“… No, I don’t think so.” Deku says slowly, after a moment of thinking. “And don’t call our friends ’extras’, Kacchan.”

“Are you gonna go crazy if you don’t fix it right now?” Katsuki continues, ignoring the gentle chide.

Deku shakes his head quickly, lips pursed in thought. “No?”

“Then leave it for now.” Katsuki says, definitively. “If it becomes a problem then just deal with it later.” He’s had enough of babying the nerd for now. “Now shut up, I’m starving and if I can’t eat my goddamn fried rice I’m dunking your head into the sink.”

Deku cocks his head back, mischievous with an upwards tug on his lips. “So you’re saying I should… toss everything to the side for now?”

Several beats of silence.

“Deku, that is objectively horrible.” Katsuki says flatly. He can’t believe he’s subjected to this kind of torture in U.A. of all places. This is karmic retribution for bullying the nerd, plain and simple. “You should be ashamed of yourself. And if you try to make another joke like that I’m blowing you up, no matter what Aizawa says.”

Deku just giggles back, happy and unrestrained as he looks back at Katsuki, and despite himself, Katsuki’s face muscles aren’t in their usual tight downwards pull as he shoves a spoonful into his mouth.

Mmn. Flavor.

Yep, everything is good for now.

Katsuki doesn’t have to ponder on it for long, because everything soon goes back to normal. The knuckleheads aren’t bothering him with the whole ’you-and-Deku-are-a-thing’ thing, his classmates aren’t getting on his nerves, and Deku hasn’t been a nuisance as of late, which is a world record as far as Katsuki’s concerned.

The seasons start to change as the cold starts to set in, which is a bitch considering his quirk relies on his sweat. But it’s just one of those annoyances that Katsuki has to overcome in his journey to become the Number One Hero.

And just as Katsuki’s prepared to dismiss the ’you-and-Deku-are-a-thing’ talk as one of those weird blips in the course of his high school life, the knuckleheads have to bring it up. Again. At the most inopportune time.

It’s the weekend. Because they live in the dorms, it’s on them to do all the chores, and since they’ve gotten their provisional licenses, they can be trusted to know how to protect themselves outside the school grounds, which is great, because no more house arrest.

Today is Katsuki’s turn for the grocery run, together with Multilimbs and Four Eyes, because shopping for 20 people is no walk in the park.

“If you didn’t add your shit in the list, we ain’t buyin’ it,” Katsuki yells into the common room as a fair warning. They’re getting ready to head out, and despite the fact that Katsuki doesn’t need a lot of layers, ’cause of Explosion and all, he still needs to put on something. On the off-chance some villain decides to mess with them while they’re out, Katsuki isn’t about to be caught like a sitting duck, so putting on a few warming pieces it is.

Some of the class are downstairs, doing whatever. A few of them are waiting to send them off, which is stupid but understandable, standing by the doorway as they watch Katsuki and the rest stuff themselves into their fall clothes.

“Kacchan, wait!” A voice calls out from behind, and Katsuki moves his head to the side just in time to see Deku come running, blinking at the object the nerd is carrying in his hands.

“You forgot that I had this,” Deku is babbling, making the extras part in the middle like the Red Sea as the other approaches them. “Thank you by the way, for letting me borrow your clothes. I forgot where I last put mine…”

“It’s inside your closet, isn’t it?” Katsuki barks, unimpressed at the nerd’s sheepish expression. “On a hanger? Or at the back of your door? Unless you reorganized your clothes again—”

“I didn’t! I’ll take a proper look later, I promise,” Deku interrupts hastily, looking properly abashed with the incredulous stares of their classmates directed right at him. “But here.”

It’s Katsuki’s light brown scarf, from his parents’ winter line a few seasons back. Katsuki sighs with long-suffering patience as the fabric is looped across his shoulders by small, scarred hands. It’s not like he needs it, he runs pretty hot (side effect of his quirk), but if he wants to be in his A-game and get this show on the road, it’s better to let the nerd fuss for now. Deku is annoyingly persistent when he wants to be, and if he raises hell the more time he’ll need to finish this errand when all Katsuki wants is for it to be over ASAP.

Besides, the additional layer will help make him warmer, which leads to sweaty palms, ergo, he becomes battle ready faster.

So he remains standing, unmoving as the nerd tucks the wraps around his neck, working around the collar of his jacket. One final knot later, and Deku glances up at him with a smile, smoothing down the creases of the scarf as they rested on top of his jacket lapels.

“Have a good trip today, Kacchan!” He beams, expression bright enough to be blinding, and Katsuki blinks his vision clear for a second. What the hell, is that another aspect of One-for-All that he doesn’t know about yet?

But in the end, he dismisses the moment. It’s probably one of those Deku-isms that he has to get used to. “Yeah, yeah,” Kacchan tips his head up in acknowledgement once he gets his bearings back, ignoring the way his heart somersaults inside his ribcage. Likewise, he doesn’t give a hoot at the multitude of gaping expressions coming his way. “We’re going. Close the door on our way out, Deku.”

“Be careful outside, all of you!” Deku waves at them from the doorstep, and Katsuki doesn’t think much of the exchange, soon embroiled in the process of getting multiple packs of the same thing and lugging numerous shopping bags back to the campus. It’s only afterwards when he gets back and delivers the receipts to Aizawa that the knuckleheads corner him inside his bedroom.

He really should have seen this coming.

“What was that, Bakugou?!” Dunce Face is flailing, hard, and were he a nicer person (Deku) Katsuki would have been concerned that the other blond would snap his arms clean off. “What happened by the door earlier! Are you actually making fun of us?!”

… But he’s not. So.

“And I heard from Yaomomo that she and Kyouka-chan have walked in on you two getting cozy in the kitchen!” Pinky adds with a hiss, as if Katsuki has just done something unforgivable, and what’s got her panties in a twist? “And you’re telling us that you’re not a couple? At all?!”

“Stop getting on my case, dipshits!” Katsuki throws them off, both literal and figurative, with a glare. “The fuck do you mean, ’getting cozy’? Why the hell would I lie about me an’ Deku? We’re not a couple!”

“Uh, dude. I hate to break it to you, but you’re honestly acting like you are.” Tape Arms points out bluntly. “Earlier? At the front door? Midoriya putting on your scarf for you? That’s husband-and-wife levels of PDA right there.”

“You even said goodbye like how a married couple would do it, bro.” Shitty Hair is shaking his head. “You might be childhood friends, but even people who are dating don’t act that way towards each other. Have you seen, say, Ojirou and Hagakure act like that when they’re together?”

Like Katsuki cares about the relationships his classmates are getting into. But… perhaps the redhead is bringing up something important. ’Cause if they’re all saying it, then there must be something about his interactions with Deku that’s highly unusual, even if Katsuki himself thinks differently.

“Look you dumbfucks,” Katsuki huffs out an irritated breath. “I don’t get what the deal is. Why does it matter to you so much? Deku an’ I are fine, we’re not at each other’s throats, so what the hell gives?”

Deku has always been touchy-feely ever since they’re kids. Of course, when they’re on the out Katsuki doesn’t let the nerd come within ten feet of him, but now they’ve just reverted back to how they used to be as children. Deku’s like his mom, often poking his nose into other people’s business out of the goodness of their hearts, and it’s gotten to the point that Katsuki just has to live with it.

But it’s not weird. Look, he has a lot of shit to make up to the nerd. Katsuki isn’t bothered with Deku’s doting as a brat, and he’s not bothered with it now. It’s just how the other is, just like Katsuki’s a bad-tempered asshole, part and parcel of who they are as people.

And if attempting to be nicer to the other means letting him do whatever he wants in Katsuki’s vicinity that’s not harmful or dangerous, then so be it.

In response, the look the knuckleheads give him is saturated in such sheer disbelief a nerve starts to tick in Katsuki’s temple, a conditioned response.

“Bakubabe, I adore you, but you’re not seeing.” Pinky laments, dramatically draping herself across Shitty Hair’s lap. “Boys, talk to him. Make him see sense, because he’s not getting it at all!” Shitty Hair touches her hair in comfort and coos down at her, making Katsuki’s face scrunch up at the scene.

And they have the gall to tell him that he’s being obtuse, when these types of sappy, mushy things happen right in front of his salad.

“Hah?! Are you shits callin’ me stupid?!”

“No, no!” Dunce Face quickly shakes his head, waving his hands in denial. “Not stupid, Bakugou. Just… thicker than a brick, maybe?”

“Okay,” Shitty Hair interjects just when Katsuki snarls and stands up to show Dunce Face who it is between them that has the thicker head when it comes to smashing bricks. “Bakubro. My man. You don’t have to do this, but maybe you should… whenever you’re with Midoriya, observe how you get along with him?” He suggests, still petting Pinky like a cat. “As an experiment, of sorts.”

“I mean, really watch how you act around each other.” Tape Arms adds. “And then crosscheck that with what you know on how people in different relationships do various things. Maybe then you’ll see what we’re seeing.”

That… isn’t a half-bad idea, Katsuki thinks, squeezing Dunce Face’s neck around his elbow in a total headlock. Don’t get him wrong, he still thinks it’s bullshit, they’re definitely way off in their assumptions.

But for once, he’ll humor the knuckleheads and their delusions, and gleefully rub it in their face the moment he proves them wrong.

“Maybe then you’ll realize how married you actually are and stop making the rest of us single people jealous,” Dunce Face mutters audibly under his armpit.

… That’s it, he’s gonna pop Dunce Face’s head like a pimple.

“Ow! Kacchan, let go! Can’t—wheeze—can’t breathe!”

Check how Deku acts around him and vice-versa, huh.

That’s easy enough to do. Katsuki isn’t as observant as, say, Deku (’cause the nerd’s an all-out stalker), but he prides himself on being able to pick up things easily once he notices that something’s off. That’s how he’s able to tell that Deku somehow managed to get himself All Might’s quirk, way back then.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

So for the next few days, Katsuki takes care to closely catalog all the interactions he had with Deku. It’s not as regular as the knucklehead thinks it is, since they have their groups that they spend their time with, but they do cross paths often.

And nothing’s out of place. Deku is his usual brand of busybody shitnerd, Katsuki isn’t any different. Their relationship is as it will ever be, rough and still jagged at the edges, but with the pieces slowly and surely fitting back into its rightful places.

The breakthrough comes not too long after, during one forgettable evening, with most of Class 1-A congregating in the common room to finish their schoolwork together. Katsuki prefers to study alone after dinner, mostly because he requires peace and quiet to concentrate, but the knuckleheads have dragged him to the ground floor, pleading for him to, “help them with this one item, it’ll only take a second, we promise!”

It’s never just ’one problem’, and yet Katsuki goes along anyway. Better to get this over with than have the knuckleheads needle him endlessly and disrupt his study time.

Downstairs, it turns out that Deku’s extras are also getting together to get a move on with their schoolwork, and it’s a no-brainer for the rest of them to pile into one large table to form some sort of impromptu tutoring session.

In some ways it works. They all have different subjects they’re strong in, so it makes sense that whoever knows the topic best can help out those who’s lacking in the area. But at the same time, it’s too goddang noisy with everyone talking at the same time, so it’s inevitable that some ideas get lost in the scramble.

It’s during the second round of him showing how to read a particular poem that his phone starts to ring, left on the top of the table and largely ignored the entire time. Katsuki doesn’t pay attention to it, since only a select few who’s not in this room knows what his number is.

And soon enough, he doesn’t have to do anything, because a hand snatches the device off the table and takes a look at the screen for him.

“Kacchan, it’s Auntie Mitsuki! Want me to answer it?”

“Do what you want,” Katsuki’s in the middle of talking about symbolisms and imagery and he will bash Dunce Face’s head on the table if he has to explain it one more time. “Just make sure to lock it after you’re done.”

“Okay~”

It doesn’t take long for Deku to start talking.

“Auntie, hello! This is Izuku! Sorry, Kacchan can’t come to the phone right now,” the nerd bubbles happily, making Katsuki’s eyes roll to the top of his head. Deku is such a simp for his Old Hag it’s embarrassing to witness sometimes. But then again, it’s better for everyone that it’s Deku who fields all of Katsuki’s conversations with his mother, since she’s less likely to blow up when it’s him on the other end of the line.

Katsuki catches the wide-eyed look the knuckleheads are giving him and raises his own eyebrow in response. What’s with that reaction? Their parents know each other, so it’s natural that Deku would know how to talk to both of them. It’s not like Katsuki hasn’t done it the other way around.

Thankfully the conversation is short, and Deku hangs up not too long after, swiping on the screen a few times to set his notifications to ’do not disturb’. It’s thoughtful foresight, though Katsuki will throttle himself first before admitting it out loud.

“So?” Katsuki grunts, once the nerd has locked and set his phone back to its original location, “What’d the Old Hag want?”

“She just wants to know if you’re doing okay since you didn’t call her last week.” Deku replies, which is about what Katsuki expects. “It’s a good thing my mom let her know how you are, since you’re the one who talked to her the last time.”

That’s right, it’s Katsuki who picked up Deku’s phone when Auntie Inko came calling a few days ago. It’s not like he can ignore it, the woman is constantly halfway through a nervous breakdown the moment Deku signed up for this hero gig. And she’s been nothing but kind and gracious to Katsuki, even during the times when he has been horrible to her son. So whenever he’s in her presence, physically or otherwise, he summons whatever near non-existent politeness and patience he has in his body and exercises most of it with her.

She deserves nothing less.

In the end, all mothers are the same, and Auntie Inko is appeased when Katsuki relays Deku’s condition (no injuries, eating and sleeping well, not lagging in any of his classes). He strives to be as objectively true as possible, tries to keep the swearing to a minimum, and his restraint pays off; she’s happy to hear how her son’s school days go, to know that he’s doing well and flourishing as he works hard to achieve his childhood dream.

(“Thank you, Katsuki-kun.” Auntie Inko says warmly, the last time Deku’s phone is in his possession. It’s so non-sequitur it takes a moment for him to find the right response. “For always looking after Izuku.”

“No, I don’t really—” The denial is reflexive on his tongue, because Deku is old enough to look after his damn self, and Katsuki isn’t the type to take credit for something he never did. “Auntie—”

“I worried a lot at the start, you know.” The weight in her voice makes Katsuki falter and quiet down. “But since you’re there beside him, my heart feels more at ease. I’m so relieved that Izuku has people around him that he can depend on and trust, but none more so than you.”

But Auntie Inko sounds happy, at peace with Katsuki’s continuing presence in her son's life.

“I’m sure that Izuku will have more hardships in the future.”

Gentle. Bright.

“Problems and challenges that I won’t be able to help him with because I won’t be able to understand.”

And so, so warm.

“And when that happens…”

Exactly like her son.

“Can I entrust him to you, Katsuki-kun? From now until the foreseeable future?”)

“I was busy,” Katsuki grunts once the memory disperses, which is both an explanation and a word of thanks (not that Deku will know). The nerd takes his words in stride, briefly smiling at him (gross) before returning to their work.

But the extras have latched on to something else entirely.

“Midoriya, you know the passcode to Bakugou’s phone?” IcyHot asks with a blink of surprise. Around the table, there’s varying expressions of surprise, shock, and sheer incredulity. In fact, Round Cheeks looks downright distraught as she glances between Deku and Katsuki’s phone, but the look is gone as fast as it comes, leaving him reeling slightly at the whiplash.

The fuck is that all about?

“I do,” Deku nods, head tilted towards IcyHot’s direction, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well, not his passcode, but my fingerprint is saved on it?”

“And Bakugou-chan just lets you answer his calls and use his phone at any time?” Frog Girl asks with a curious tilt to her head.

“As long as he’s okay with it?” Deku answers with confusion, which is a perfectly reasonable response. “It’s still Kacchan’s phone, so I need to let him know before I do anything else.”

“But that’s—” Pinky whips her head, knowing and despairing, towards Katsuki. “Bakubabe, you too?!”

“… So what if I do?” All Might has to be accessible to the nerd at all times somehow, and the former Number One’s general… himness tends to leave information hanging or unspoken at the most inconsiderate moments. Katsuki is the only person who knows the secret of One-for-All that’s around Deku most of the time, so if something happens, he can be first to communicate things on scene if Deku isn’t available for some reason. The overall purpose is strictly pragmatic, a failsafe in case the nerd wants to do something stupid one of these days without consulting All Might. Again.

And besides, for all that Katsuki accuses Deku of being a stalker, the other does have a semblance of boundaries. He doesn’t scroll through Katsuki’s folders and files without expressed permission, and Katsuki affords the same courtesy in kind, keeping what’s private private during the times he gets his hands on Deku’s phone.

“Dude.” Dunce Face breathes after several seconds of complete silence. “That’s like, a move that basically says ’we’ve been in a relationship for more than 10 years now’. Not even my parents are like that.”

“Wha— shut the fuck up, Discount Pikachu!” Katsuki splutters, as Deku makes an audible squeak nearby. “You know nothing!”

“Is that how married couples should act?” IcyHot asks, the question entirely too genuine to be teasing. Katsuki stops the visible wince just in time, because yeah, he knows the context behind the query too, unfortunately. “Like Midoriya and Bakugou?”

“Oh yeah, totally, Todoroki!” Tape Arms starts gesulating, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “Midoriya and Bakugou are what people would call,” he raises his hands to show the sign, “hashtag ’couple goals’.”

“You’re not helping, Tape Face!” Bakugou growls, ’cause it’s one thing to make fun of IcyHot’s social incompetence, but it’s an entirely different ballpark to remind him of just how fucked up his family life really is, even if the rest of the idiots haven’t the faintest idea. “And Half-n-Half bastard, don’t listen to these dumbasses. They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Kacchan’s right, Todoroki-kun.” Deku speaks up, voice quieter than normal, and when Katsuki catches his gaze, he sees the same terrible understanding reflected in those jewel-green irises. “Sero-kun is just teasing us. Don’t think too seriously about it, okay?”

But IcyHot just nods, not looking troubled in the slightest as he considers all the points provided.

“I think I can see what Sero’s talking about, actually.”

“Todo, my man!” They share a high-five, IcyHot slower on the uptake, but he awkwardly gets there in the end.

“See, they’re even doing that ’silent conversations’ thing that my parents do get into,” Dunce Face informs IcyHot gleefully, and IcyHot makes an ’oh’ of comprehension. “Take notes, Todoroki, they’re a good template to follow if you get your own significant other someday.”

“I see. Thank you for the advice, Kaminari.”

Katsuki feels his back muscles unclench, jaw twitching even as he lets out air he doesn’t know he’s been holding.

Fuck’s sake. Being around these morons isn’t good for his blood pressure (and brain cells).

“So you’re not dating Bakugou-kun, Deku-kun?”

This time, it’s Round Cheeks who asks.

But the way she asks the question has Katsuki’s nerves on instant edge, the tension around the table ratcheting upwards just ever so slightly.

Everyone and their grandmother knows of her humongous crush on Deku. Katsuki doesn’t see the appeal, it’s Deku after all, but to each their own. He can’t muster enough energy to give a rat’s ass.

But understanding that doesn’t explain why he’s weirdly on guard now, the grip on his pen tightening as he darts a glance at the nerd from the corner of his eye.

Predictably, Deku’s face turns into something resembling badly broiled tomatoes. “W-What?! No, no! Kacchan and I aren’t—! W-We’re just—!”

The rest of them watch him windmill around pathetically for a few minutes, stuttering and generally impersonating a useless fish flopping around on dry land.

Then, Deku does the unthinkable.

He raises his head and looks at Katsuki. As if he’s checking to make sure Katsuki’s going to have his back on this— and what the hell, no way, the shitnerd’s totally on his own. Getting involved in things like love and romance is decidedly not in the scope and sequence of Katsuki’s ascension to Number One Hero, complicated and messy and not about to be touched by a 10 meter pole.

… But Deku’s eyes are humongous and beseeching and he’s acting like a puppy that’s about to be kicked at any moment, and only villains indiscriminately mess with innocent animals.

Before he’s aware of it, Katsuki’s lips are starting to part, but he’s a beat too late. Whatever Deku sees on his face makes him stand up abruptly, leaving pens and notes to scatter on top of the table.

“U-um, that’s—!” Deku looks like Christmas personified, the dark red of his face clashing badly with the color of his hair as he tries to string a properly coherent thought. “Just— please e-excuse me!”

And they all watch, jaws dropping to the floor, as the nerd hightails it out of there, with the barest hint of emerald lightning trailing after his wake.

For the first few seconds, there’s nothing but dead silence.

“… Ah. He ran away.”

“Way to state the obvious, moron,” Katsuki snaps at the other. He feels unusually warm and off-kilter as he picks up his pen again to return to the books, before stilling.

Huh. Strange. When did he let go of it?

Then Shitty Hair’s voice slammed through his ears with the finesse and grace of a battering ram.

“Hey, Bakugou— oh dude, you’re blushing!”

Katsuki snaps the pen right in half as he glares at the redhead.

“Hah?! The fuck did you just say, Shitty Hair?!”

He slaps a palm at his cheek to check, because he absolutely isn’t and they’re—

Not wrong.

In fact, he’s not all right at all. Katsuki feels too tight, constricted in his skin. His heart rate keeps up its accelerated pace, rampaging under his breast bone, Deku’s expression before he flees flashing in his mind’s eye.

What was Katsuki going to say, at that time, before the chance slipped by? Is he going to tell Deku to knock it off, to come back and start reading again because it’s not a big deal?

But it clearly is, the nerd basically goes through BSOD when Round Cheeks asks, so what makes him think that Katsuki can give her an answer?

What does Deku want to hear from him?

All of this is starting to piss him off. The assumptions, the teasing, the entire fucking topic all together, because they’re not anything.

Comrades? Definitely.

Rivals? Probably.

Friends? Tentatively.

But at the same time, those quantifiers don’t feel satisfactory. For some reason he can’t explain, they’re all lacking. In substance, in meaning, in definition, one way or another. While he doesn’t have any idea what the nerd thinks of him now, but one thing’s for sure.

For Katsuki, Deku is—

He stops, thoughts screeching to a halt. Katsuki stares at nothing and everything, mind searching for that elusive word he knows exists but somehow can’t get a full grasp of.

Deku is… He’s—

They’re…?

When Katsuki blinks, it’s to Dunce Face and Tape Arms having mirrored wide, smug, irritatingly knowing grins that just frays his already strained tolerance to the absolute limit.

“So?” Dunce Face’s tone is tooth-achingly saccharine. “Something you want to inform the rest of the class, Bakugou Katsuki-kun?”

Just like that, something in Katsuki breaks.

“Fuck off.”

This time, they all flinch at Katsuki’s seething, venomous tone.

“Deku is a pushover, but I’m not. So put a sock in it before I do it in a place where the sun don’t shine.” Katsuki stands up, tossing the pen on the table, uncaring of the ink stains that splatter messily on the lacquered wood. “You basically chased him away with your stupidity. You went too far, assholes.”

At least the knuckleheads have the decency to look shamed. Good.

The chair noisily scrapes as it’s moved back, Katsuki giving them all a truly scathing look. “Screw this. I’m done trying to make you extras understand.”

He’s stalking away before any of them can get a word in edgewise, and nobody brings up the fact that Katsuki is moving in the same direction someone just left in a few minutes ago.

A point in their continuing willingness to live another day, because if one more idiot opens their mouth to even breathe so much as a syllable, Katsuki cannot and will not be held accountable for his next actions.

But just before he steps through the threshold of the room, Katsuki halts in his tracks, not looking back as his hand clenches into a fist.

“… And if you don’t make this up to the nerd, I’ll make sure you’ll regret openin’ your mouths in the first place.”

(“… Overprotective boyfriend, kero?”

“Totally overprotective boyfriend. Did you just see that? He almost Hulked out on us once Midoriya left.”

“Speaking of which, we really should apologize to Midoriya and Bakugou when we see them. We might have pushed about the whole thing too much.”

“And we absolutely would, Kirishima, after they get a clue and stop killing us all with their tension! Urgh, why can’t they just realize their feelings for each other already?!”

“It looks like I’ve lost my chance, guys.” A forlorn sigh. “Well. Better late than never, I guess.”

“Aw, Uraraka!” A tight, brotherly hug. “Yeah, it really does suck. But it’s not your fault at all! Wrong timing and bad luck, I guess. You’re really great! You’re cute, you’re nice, and you’ll be a great Pro Hero in the future! I’m sure that if Bakugou wasn’t in the picture, Midoriya would have gone out with you without hesitation.”

A watery sniffle. “… Really?”

“Hanta-chan is right, kero.”

“And don’t worry, Uraraka.” A calm, comforting voice. “It’s Midoriya’s loss. You’ll find someone who will consider you their most important person one day.”

“Woah, that’s totally smooth, Todoroki!” Multiple jeers and slaps on the back. “You ladykiller, you!”

A concerned pause.

“… I don’t want to take Uraraka’s life, though?”

Spluttered, raucous laughter.)

“This where you hang when you need to cry, shitnerd?”

Katsuki’s feet have taken him around the dorms, aimless at the beginning but somehow managing to hone in on the nerd’s location after a few minutes. Deku can’t have gone far, outside is a possibility, but Katsuki figures that he won’t stay away from his stuff for too long.

Deku knows better than to run away for real. Katsuki and his classmates can be persistent little assholes with the right incentive.

And so he’s led here, into this small alcove that tucked away from many a prying eye, Deku tiny and unassuming as he folds himself into the scrap of space by the windowsill. The clear glass shows off the expansive grounds of UA’s campus, now turned red and orange with the change in seasons.

But the sight of the nerd seems so pitiful that even Katsuki feels the faintest stir in his chest, one that he forcefully pushes away. He’s not here to coddle Deku or anything stupid like that, but even he won’t appreciate it if he’s clowned by people he considers his friends.

… At least he looks like he’s over his momentary lapse of existential crisis.

“O-Oh, Kacchan!” Deku startles at the sight of him, hastily rubbing at his reddened eyes, and Katsuki rolls his own in turn. “S-Sorry, for leaving a-all of a sudden…”

Good god, he’s gonna go through this the hard way, isn’t he?

“Don’t apologize if you’ve done nothing wrong, dumbass.” It’s unsightly, and Deku really needs to grow more of a spine when it comes to the extras. Look where it gets him right now, sniffling and cowering ’cause the knuckleheads managed to poke a few sore spots when it comes to his feelings.

(… Does he hate the idea of being together with Katsuki like that so much?)

Katsuki shoves that disquieting uneasy irritating thought aside. He’s a goddamn catch and he knows it; anyone should count themselves lucky if Katsuki manages to look at them more than a millisecond.

But enough of that; Katsuki hasn’t come here to put his own emotions under the microscope. He’s come here for Deku, if his body movements are of any indication, so might as well fix the fuck up so they can all move on with their lives.

Katsuki carefully scrutinizes the nerd. What does Deku need the most right now? An apology from the jerks, obviously, but that’s something Katsuki can’t do unless he drags said extras and subject them to Deku’s sorry-looking face. And Deku’s not likely to come along willingly, considering the disgraceful expression he’s wearing at the moment.

Which leaves him with one option, learned from the time when they are wee brats who don’t know any better.

A large, heavy sigh. Katsuki sets his shoulders back, plants his feet flat on the ground, tenses his bones and muscles in preparation. He needs a moment to mentally fortify himself, but as Aizawa says.

As a hero, you can’t choose the people you save.

It’s either all or none.

“Okay. Fine. You have a minute, Deku.”

Deku blinks those huge pairs of green bambi eyes at him. “H-huh?”

Katsuki instantly whips his head away, opting to look at the shedding trees in the distance. A curious warmth plays above his ears, spreading down to his nape as he forcefully uncurls his arms and fists, raising his hands a few inches off his sides, palms out.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, nerd.”

There’s a few beats of silence, Deku clearly hesitating about taking the final step. Katsuki waits, apprehension swiftly rising with every tick-tock of the clock.

Then, the whisper of wind, the rustle of movement, as the other leaps from the windowsill, a scarred hand stretched out and reaching for Katsuki.

And between one heartbeat and the next, Deku is in his space, breathing in the same air. Bodies eventually meet, collide, getting an entire frontful of sniffly, muscle-thick teenager as a head of emerald-hued curls slams against an exposed collarbone.

Katsuki lets himself be knocked back, a foot taking an anchoring step back to bear the brunt of force, feeling elbows wrap around his ribs, fingers clinging desperately to the back of his tank top. He feels his eyes close, arms flying out in reaction as counterbalance, before limbs naturally land on the spread of Deku’s shoulder blades and spine as Katsuki steadies them upright.

(He’s not doing this out of the kindness of his own heart. Deku responds the most to tactile sensation, from then until now, which incidentally is the type of interaction Katsuki hates the most.

But he’s simply run out of options, and Katsuki would rather suffer through a carelessly cheerful Deku than a morose, moping one.)

This close, Katsuki can feel Deku’s heart pounding against his chest. The cooler temperature of his clothes as it brushes alongside Katsuki’s exposed but still warmer skin, the faint, crispy cool scent of pine and vanilla that seems to follow the nerd wherever he goes. Slowly, bit by bit, Katsuki feels the tension unfurl from Deku’s body, grip loosening but not completely falling away.

Katsuki breathes deep, methodically filling his lungs with air and exhaling the same way, again and again, until he feels Deku doing the same thing. In. Out.

A hand drifts upwards, sliding through surprisingly soft curls as Katsuki looks down and huffs out another breath, this time in exasperation.

“… Hey. If you’re still gonna cry, you better not get snot on my clothes.”

“Okay.” A small sniffle. “Sorry. I’ve stopped now.” The edge of his top is damp, but not soaked, which is better than Katsuki expects. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Like I said, stop apologizing for shit that you didn’t do. If anything, they’re the ones who should be grovelin’ at your feet.” Katsuki clicks his tongue. “For fuck’s sake, why do people think we’re a couple?” His arm does not move from its resting place around the curl of the other’s shoulders, causing emerald locks to shift closer and tickle the side of his neck. “That’s a weird thought, isn’t it?”

In his arms, he feels Deku stiffen imperceptibly.

“It is,” Deku agrees, voice muffled from its snug position under Katsuki’s chin. Fingers tighten once more around the cotton on Katsuki’s back.

“We’re… not like that at all.”

Somehow… the words feel wrong, coming out of Deku’s mouth, even if it’s the objective truth. Also, the hell is up with that answer?

Why does Deku sound so… so…

… disappoi—

“I should go back and meet the others.” The nerd’s voice jar Katsuki out of his reverie, in time to realize that Deku’s untangling his upper limbs from Katsuki’s back. Deku’s head remains low, tone halting and awkward as he speaks. “We were studying, I’m sure they’re wondering what happened…”

“… Yeah.” Katsuki’s gullet feels stuck to the back of his throat. He tries to swallow, but finds the action halting halfway, as the extra warmth slowly and surely subsides. Deku finally takes a full step back, still speaking, but whatever he’s blathering on about is lost in the static that’s quickly filling Katsuki’s head.

The other is turning back, face disappearing as he takes leave, and Katsuki feels a rush of panic that threatens to suffocate him from the inside out.

He’s instantly overtaken by impulse.

And it leads him to throw his hand out blindly, fingertips managing to catch warm and raised skin before letting his palm enclose around it.

“Don’t go,” Katsuki blurts out, and never has he felt the urge to brain himself on the wall more strongly than he does now.

Holy shit, where did his brain-to-mouth filter disappear to?!

As a matter of fact, what the hell is he even doing? Holding Deku back like this? Has he lost his mind? If it’s the him a scant few years ago, Katsuki would be recoiling at the mere idea of being beholden to the nerd like this.

… But he can’t make himself let go. As if something catastrophic will happen if he chooses to unfurl his fingers and let Deku slip away from his hold, like he will lose a piece of himself forever, without any way of getting it back.

“Kacchan…?” The nerd sounds concerned now, going back to face him, “What’s wrong? You look… strange.”

Does he? Katsuki thinks vaguely, realizing that outwardly, he must be exhibiting all the signs of fight or flight: stomach churning, temples sweating, heart somersaulting. He feels almost drunk on the adrenaline that’s now flooding his system, but his synapses continue to fire, mind far away as it connects, snaps off, and restructures multiple conflicting thoughts in an attempt to reach a single, coherent conclusion.

He is man enough to admit to himself that being with Deku feels… comfortable. Freeing, in a way he can’t be with anyone else. They grew up near each other after all, and even as early as then, Katsuki knows deep in the depths of his soul that Midoriya Izuku has always been special, and his refusal to acknowledge and accept that fact has caused the strife and strain in their relationship that lasted for many years. Deku’s influence has forced him to become a better version of himself, not without a lot of kicking and screaming along the way.

But if held at gunpoint, he will say that the nerd is the only person Katsuki will allow to drag him along and change him like that.

Deku knows him, from the tip of his spiky hair to the soles of his boots-clad feet. And he knows Deku, from the top of his messy green curls to the ends of his ugly, red platform sneakers. That’s the reason why Katsuki hasn’t placed a lot of importance with what he’s doing when he’s with the other; Deku is aware of the boundaries that he can push and pull, and for Katsuki, he has never felt like Deku has crossed a line that truly matters.

And if he truly thinks about it, it’s less of Deku trespassing and jumping over the barricade and more of the other… already being inside when Katsuki built the fence, without him realizing it.

Because how else can Katsuki describe it? It’s the only explanation he has for lacking the energy to be disgusted or angry at the sensation of Deku’s mere presence, of his smiles and glances and touches.

Of his skin brushing against Katsuki’s own, of his compact, leanly muscled frame being cradled in the space between Katsuki’s arms.

Because… his body feels like it’s a place that has been made solely for Deku’s everything to seamlessly, naturally, fit in.

Because it feels…

The word slams into Katsuki with the impact of a Detroit Smash.

Right.

And just like that, a random switch flips up in his head, filling up the space with illuminating light.

Damn it.

He really does—

“—like you more than I should, don’t I.”

From where their hands are connected, Deku slackens his grip in shock, his almost-silent gasp barely making a ripple in the air between them.

But the minute movement is enough, and Katsuki startles.

Oh, fuck.

The nerd’s eyes are rounder than saucers as he openly stares back, mouth hanging just the tiniest bit open.

“Kacchan… what… what did you just say?”

This is the worst. He definitely screwed up, DEFCON 1, FUBAR all the way. He hasn’t meant to say it out loud, or so soon, not when he’s still reeling, coming to terms with what he has just discovered about himself.

But what’s already spoken can never be taken back, and for Katsuki, who’s now facing the very real possibility of rejection, there’s only one way forward.

“I like you.” He pauses, the syllables sounding foreign, even to his ears. “I think. Probably.”

The sound that escapes Izuku is a mixture of a squeak and a wheeze, cheeks splotching pink, and the sight of his stupid, blushing face is now so unexpectedly charming Katsuki feels his toes curling inside his slippers.

There’s no getting around it now. That’s solid proof right there that he’s totally sweet on the nerd, careening his belated epiphany to stone-cold fact.

Motherfucker.

Deku’s still staring at him. “P-Probably?”

Even Katsuki realizes how flushed his face is right now. “Shit, just— piss off, Deku!” He wants to die. He seriously, honestly, wants to give Deku and himself temporary amnesia and never talk about this again. He’d rather face down a hundred villains all at the same time than to go through this crap. “This is news to me too, you know!”

That gets a proper reaction from the other, a very physical jolt as the nerd outright gapes at him.

“Kacchan, you… you didn’t notice?”

Katsuki frowns. This, again? “Notice what?”

And all at once, the conversations he’s had with the knuckleheads slams onto his head with startling clarity.

In an instant, Katsuki’s grabbing Deku by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Motherfu— Deku, have we been dating all this time and I didn’t notice?!” Are they? Has Katsuki said or done something that would make the other think that they are?

Hell, Katsuki has never even asked someone out on a date before!

But Deku is quickly shaking his head.

“No, nothing like that!” The other stutters wildly. “I-It’s just… um… K-Kirishima-kun and the rest mentioned that you’re acting very a-affectionate towards m-me.” The blush that suffuses the nerd’s face is bright and hot enough to place a pan on top and cook eggs in. “I told them that w-we’ve always been like that as k-kids, but apparently you’re acting more like a l-lover than a… childhood f-friend.” The volume of his voice tapers the more he attempts to explain, hands resting lightly on Katsuki’s chest as his gaze darts everywhere else except Katsuki’s face.

“I was g-going to tell you e-eventually, but…” It’s like pulling teeth, getting Deku to talk, voice barely more than a whisper as he mumbles out the rest.

“But I… didn’t d-dislike the feeling, s-so…!”

So Deku just let him do whatever he pleases, with Katsuki none-the-wiser on how his actions can be misconstrued? Why?

He watches the other carefully, intently, taking in Deku’s hung head, curls casting a shadow over his eyes, the way his teeth catch onto his lower lip, the spread of crimson that wraps around his face and neck, disappearing under the collar of his t-shirt.

Because… because Deku—

Katsuki freezes, and comprehension steals the air away from his lungs.

“You like me too.”

A telling jerk around Katsuki’s grip, Deku’s biceps twitching as he attempts to take a step back. But Katsuki keeps him in place, refusing to let him run away, because Deku is truly a sly, sneaky shitnerd, taking generous liberties with Katsuki’s cluelessness.

But the bold statement finally, finally makes Deku glance up at him, eyes shimmering and mouth working as he tries—and fails—to give a proper answer.

Never has the anticipation of the other shoe dropping felt so excruciating before. They remain silent, suspended in this strange time and moment that seems to belong to both of them alone, noses inches away from each other as Katsuki waitswatcheswishes with bated breath.

Deku’s lips part, accompanied by a small inhale of breath. The bright bloom on his cheeks never fades, dusted over by a smattering of freckles, clear liquid misting over and turning emerald-tinted irises into an equally breathtaking glassy sea green.

Then, just as the tension stretches to its absolute limit, thick and heavy and about to collapse from its weight, with an expression of shyness and total mortification…

Midoriya Izuku gives a tiny, soundless, wordless nod.

Instantly, air leaves Katsuki’s lungs in one fell swoop.

And without prompting, his body moves on autopilot.

“Ah…!” Katsuki feels more than hears the shock that escapes the nerd. He can’t bring himself to give a damn, eyes wide but unseeing, the rush of blood deafening in his ears.

He can’t think. Can’t speak. His heart is moments away flying out of his ribcage, stopped only by Deku as he crushes the nerd against his chest. Tries his best to keep breathing—damn it, damn it, hands, body, stop shaking—and dimly registers the pressure of Deku’s fingers clinging to the back of his tank top, the blazing heat of the other’s face as it’s smushed against the side of Katsuki’s neck.

“You—” Katsuki exhales after several beats, ragged and weak and horribly grateful that his expression can’t be seen right now. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I want to say I feel guilty, but I don’t.” Deku’s voice still holds a tinge of embarrassment, tone wobbly and uneven, despite physically curling deeper into Katsuki’s embrace. “I was really happy, and I wanted to—” a hiccup, “I wanted to be selfish, for as long as I can.”

Katsuki can’t say that he doesn’t understand. Because he recognizes it now, the feeling of unabashed glee that comes from knowing you’re someone’s special person, the desire to monopolize the other person when it comes to everything.

He… wants Deku to be the only person who does those things towards him. With him. Beside him, when it comes to anything and everything under the sun.

Katsuki’s voice is low. The words form themselves without thought, but the certainty in them is indisputable.

“Be as selfish as you want, then. I ain’t gonna stop you.”

An almost-silent gasp of air, as Deku freezes up.

“Kacchan… are you sure?”

The question is so heartrendingly, brokenly hopeful that it makes Katsuki’s teeth grind together.

This little…!

After all this time, after all this much, this shitnerd is still doubting him?

Katsuki abruptly pulls back with a snarl, keeping the other at a literal arm’s length as his fingers close over muscled shoulder blades. “You asshole, you underestimatin’ me?”

In front of each other, Katsuki can now see Deku’s face in its entirety, which reveals itself to be splotchy and bright red still, eyes huge and shiny with unshed tears.

Seeing his scowl, the nerd squeaks.

… And Katsuki’s truly lost his mind for thinking that Deku actually looks kinda cute like this.

“Come at me with everything you’ve got.” He growls, stepping once more into the other’s personal space. But this time, he does it straight on, eye contact never once faltering as he slowly ducks his head down, until he’s closed the distance enough to hear the way Deku’s breath stutters as he gets right up into the nerd’s adorable, freckle-filled business.

“You took advantage of me. You had me doin’ all those cringy, sappy stuff and I didn’t even know what it meant.” He lays the cards down, both as a fact and an accusation.

“Makin’ me notice you ain’t an easy feat. You made me like your sorry ass self.”

Deku’s now looking both vaguely terrified and overwhelmed, but it’s not enough.

Closer. More.

Until every syllable he utters caresses those curved cheeks, until Deku understands with perfect clarity what it means to have Bakugou Katsuki’s complete and undivided attention.

“And now you’ve caught me.” He whispers, so, so softly, into a darkly flushed ear, letting the thought sink in completely. The tips of their hair brush, and Katsuki finally lets the grin unfurl on his lips, unmistakably cocky and assured of his victory.

“So man up and take responsibility for me, Izuku.”

Because I’m going to be selfish with you too.

For several, fluttery, heartstopping seconds, neither of them move a muscle. Deku’s eyes remain as wide and open as they’ll ever be, hard drive working double time to process what Katsuki means, what he’s really asking behind the mask of his brusque, no-nonsense demand.

And Katsuki knows he’s cinched it when, at long last, the other’s expression totally crumbles.

“O-Oh-Ohkay~” Deku starts to bawl in earnest, and Katsuki huffs, amused and exasperated in equal amounts as the heel of his palm drifts up to rub at the nerd’s damp face. His touch is unexpectedly lighter and more even-handed, practiced in their movements to get rid of the fat tears rolling down those freckled cheeks.

(In that instant, Katsuki remembers being four years old, doing the exact same thing to the other, before Quirks, before Heroes, before he learns of concepts like strength and power and worthiness.

Just a simple boy, trying to make his friend feel better, because even back then, Katsuki didn’t like seeing him cry.)

Eventually, the sobs wind down, scarred fists migrating and bunching around the straps of Katsuki’s top. Geez, Deku’s such an ugly crier, the smile growing on his lips blinding and taking away Katsuki’s ability to breathe as the other looks at him with such obvious, unmistakable affection.

Deku hasn’t changed one bit.

Katsuki still can’t believe he likes-likes (ugh, how juvenile) this nerd. This is going to be his foreseeable future.

And yet that doesn’t stop Katsuki from allowing his head to be drawn downwards, guided by the fingers that have moved themselves to play with the light fringes of hair resting on his nape. From once again wrapping his arms around Izuku, back muscles shifting under his forearms and elbows as Katsuki finally experiences his first kiss, shared with someone who truly matters to him.

From tasting the salt and relief and happiness on Izuku’s lips, Katsuki managing to lift him off the ground despite the other’s significant musculature, unable to keep the grin off his face as Izuku gasps and giggles into his mouth.

From darting in once more to give and receive his second, third, fourth kisses, which are as mindblowing, as magical, and as special as the first. With eyes closed and foreheads pressed together they melt into each other, Izuku’s arms strong around his neck, his arms tight around Izuku’s waist.

Now a couple, in every sense of the word.

(And if this is what ’together’ feels like, blissful and light and wonderful, Katsuki can only kick himself for not realizing it sooner. How has he been able to live without this for so long?

But that doesn’t matter. He’ll make up for lost time.

Izuku’s firsts, lasts, and whatever’s in between.

Slowly, bit by bit—

Katsuki will have them all.)

(“Don’t worry, Auntie Inko. I’ll take care of him.”)

A new day dawns, clear and airy, and with it, the beginning of Class 2-A’s wilderness training camp.

Katsuki wakes up on time, normal if not calmer than usual. Despite the major upheavals in his life a scant few days ago, his schedule remains unerringly consistent, which he is grateful for.

He can be almost convinced that everything that happened is a very vivid dream… if not for the fact that he remembers every single detail, replayed again and again in his mind.

By the end of that day, he walks Deku back to his bedroom when everything’s done and over with, getting a lightning-quick peck on his cheek and an embarrassed door slam on his face for his efforts. He braces himself for an awkward morning after when they meet each other again, but aside from some minute adjustments on both of their parts, there hasn’t been any noticeable differences in their relationship.

(Apart from clumsy kisses, cuddles, and the almost constant hand-holding, done in secrecy and deliberately hidden from Katsuki’s knuckleheads in particular, because they’ll never let him live it down for the rest of the time in U.A.)

He gets up from bed, does his ablutions and regular morning stretches. Checks his bag one last time, packed and readied last night, before putting on his gym uniform and taking his luggage with him as he locks up and goes downstairs.

Unexpectedly, he’s not the first one awake. There are a few people already in the kitchen when he arrives, shuffling and muttering to themselves. The perculator on the countertop continues to hum happily, the scent of coffee strong as it wafts through the air.

His gaze hones in on a nest of messy green curls instantly, its accompanying head lying face first on the marbled breakfast bar.

“The hell do you look like that for, nerd?” His eyes are still swollen shut, alongside a distinct sleep-flush under his skin that’s mostly disguised by his freckles. But Izuku ain’t slick; there’s no way he can hide from Katsuki’s keen gaze. The first day’s going to be hell for him later. “You look like roadkill.”

“Don’t worry, I got some sleep,” Izuku mumbles through a yawn. “Just not used to being up this early, that’s all.” Katsuki rolls his eyes at that; he wakes up around sunrise due to necessity, not preference, and by this point it’s been cultivated into an unbreakable habit. Around him are his classmates, also in various stages of sleepiness and coherence, because even morning people have trouble getting up if the freaking sun itself isn’t out yet.

So there’s nothing to be done but to go to the kitchen counter and prep the tea leaves, place the garishly colored All Might mug under the tap and let the freshly brewed coffee flow. Maybe make a sandwich or two for sustenance because they’ll be out in whatever godforsaken terrain for a week. Katsuki will be damned if he’s caught off guard again like the last time.

Breakfast is constructed quickly, and Katsuki returns to the dining table, a stacked plate in one hand, the handles of two mugs on the other, with one sliding on the table, just by the nerd’s hand.

Izuku looks up, bleary, as he hears the clack of ceramic against marble. He swipes at the coffee mug and takes a tentative sip. “Oh, that's good. Thank you, Kacchan. Ready for the trip today? I packed some compression sleeves for your arms, in case you need it.”

“Mostly.” Katsuki grunts. It’s too early for this kind of small talk, taking a gulp out of his own cup of tea, but the nerd seems like he doesn’t mind the terse replies. Izuku sits properly on the bar stool, tilting his face far enough that the back of his head brushes against Katsuki’s chest as he makes a beeline for the plate that’s put down after. “And keep it in yours, you still have free space.” Because Katsuki’s own pack is already mostly stuffed to the brim, including a fully-stocked first aid kit with medical grade splints and some heavy-duty painkillers in case the nerd goes full-ham again and breaks something or another. “I might put other shit in there too before we leave.”

“Sure, as long as you tell me what they are so I can keep track of them.” Izuku hums, which isn’t a bad idea at all. Katsuki tilts his head in understanding, and it’s good enough for Izuku, who settles in (quite nicely) in front of him, already busy eating while pulling out his phone so he can type down the things Katsuki is planning to bring to the training camp. “Ah, Kacchan, take a bite of this too, you made it…”

A bite-sized part of the sandwich hovers near his mouth, raised by a hand, and Katsuki snatches it with his teeth without much thought, making a few of the extras groan out loud nearby.

“You two are going for your 25th wedding anniversary by this point, you know…” Tape Arms complains quite pointedly.

“And please limit your displays of affection this morning, it’s not even 6 am yet,” Ears mutters, making one hell of a stink eye in their general vicinity.

“Mind your own business,” Katsuki retorts without glancing up, leaning over and chewing the last bits as he double-checks the list the nerd has made. “I think that’s it. If there’s anything I missed I’ll let you know, Izuku.”

“All right, Katsuki.” Izuku chirps, beaming rather obnoxiously at him with coffee and sugar now shooting through his system. He snorts back, dropping his face a little to inhale a lungful of mint-scented hair, before straightening up and draining his chosen dose of caffeine.

He moves to the sink to wash his mug, and only registers the absolute stillness surrounding him when he shuts off the tap. Katsuki turns around to find most of the class already there and staring at him, all agog.

“’Izuku’?” Pinky eventually states after several beats, completely wide-eyed and awake.

“’Katsuki’?!” Shitty Hair says at the same time, in the exact same tone.

“Since when?!” Dunce Face demands.

Katsuki’s hit with a weird sense of déjà vu, and his eyes roll so far up it might as well become permanent. There’s not a single bone in his body that’s compelling him to answer the question, but if he ignores them he’ll be pestered all the way to kingdom come, and he needs to bring his best game on with wilderness camp coming up.

“Since a week ago,” is the clipped answer, and because he’s not a nice person…

… proceeds to throw his brand-new boyfriend straight to the dogs to be mercilessly picked apart.

“Ask my apparent spouse,” Katsuki shrugs, uncaring, and the scandalized, embarrassed, pleased, betrayed look Izuku shoots at him is annoyingly endearing. Katsuki doesn’t bother to hide the smirk that escapes after. “He’s been the one that’s been blubbering how happy he is since things went down.”

The uproar that erupts is loud enough to wake up the dead, and they converge on Deku like ants on sugar.

“Don’t listen to him!” Izuku blurts out in a panic, completely surrounded just as Katsuki is internally congratulating himself on escaping the zerg rush. “Kacchan’s the one who confessed first!”

The ensuing squeals from the girls (and some of the knuckleheads) is ear-splitting, but it’s nothing compared to the wave of heat that crashes through Katsuki’s face like a tsunami, starting from the tip of ears and cascading down his neck and chest.

“You shut your mouth, Deku!” He whirls on the other, trying to maintain a straight face despite the fluster. “Don’t give them any ammo!” Great, now the knuckleheads won’t let him rest until they get the entire story.

“You started it!” Izuku defends himself, a never-before-seen mischievous twinkle in his eyes that makes Katsuki reach out and tweak a wayward curl in swift retaliation.

But that just makes the rest of the class break out in a cacophony of noises, ranging from ’uwaaah’s to ’dawwww’s that makes Katsuki regret ever getting to know any of them in his lifetime.

Thankfully, Aizawa comes in at that moment to check on them, making the extras quickly scatter in an attempt to finish last-minute preparations. Now left alone, there’s nothing left for Katsuki to do but to wait for the nerd, who’s now washing the rest of the dirty dishes.

“Kacchan, you’re horrible,” Izuku chides with a light nudge to his side once done. But he doesn’t sound too bothered, which cues Katsuki in.

His attempt hasn’t gone unnoticed, but he’s forgiven.

“And yet you want to date me anyway,” Katsuki drawls back, smirk widening when he spies the telltale shade of pink on the nerd’s ears.

Then it’s time to move, his attention directed towards a final, thorough check through his stuff and going back to his room to fetch extra shirts and sweaters for the nerd, who’s likely to sustain clothing damage alongside physical ones. It’s all too soon before Four Eyes and Ponytail hustle them all outside, where the bus and their homeroom teacher is already waiting for them.

Aizawa takes one look at them and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“About time, you two,” the man mutters. “You can put your bags inside, but the moment we’re at camp you’ll be setting your sleeping bags as far away from each other. Is that clear?”

Snickers abound, and Katsuki chokes at the implications, hearing Izuku do the same beside him, scarlet burning at the back of his neck. The unimpressed, deadpan look the man levels at them is more than enough to keep their jaws wired shut. “You’re teenagers and you can’t be trusted alone. Also, any canoodling during training will result in immediate expulsion. That goes for all of you,” one tired eye flashes dangerously at them, warning clear and explicit, and it sobers the rest of them faster than an upcoming villain attack.

For all his threats, however, their teacher pointedly looks away when they get inside the vehicle, Katsuki’s knuckleheads and Izuku’s extras utterly shameless in their shoves and pokes so they’re forced to sit together in the same row. Katsuki’s yells shake the interior of the bus, Izuku’s squeaking attempts to placate him almost going unnoticed amidst the chaos.

But no one says a word when Izuku, who Katsuki has placed on his preferred spot by the window, eventually nods off on his shoulder about half an hour into the journey. Katsuki doesn’t wait before covering the nerd up with his gym jacket, preemptively stopping the shivers, because Izuku often gets cold in his sleep and becomes a heat-seeking missile when left alone for too long.

Katsuki, now left with just his tank top and still feeling warm and tingly all over, has his bare elbow on the arm rest, voice quieter while he converses with a beaming Shitty Hair across the aisle. Tape Arms and Dunce Face haven't stopped grinning at them, and Pinky occasionally looks back towards them with an ‘okay’ sign.

(Under the jacket, Izuku’s fingers are intertwined with his own, holding tight. His head tucks perfectly under Katsuki’s jaw, making barely audible snuffles as he continues to drift off to dreamland.)

Morons, Katsuki decides as he gives his boyfriend’s hand a brief, soothing squeeze.

But what the hell.

They’re his morons.