Chapter Text
Summer always ends with a slow, unnoticeable leak. It’s warm and it’s sunny and alive, until you realize you’re running out of daylight earlier and earlier each day. Eventually the breezes become chilled, the leaves turn rusty oranges and reds and on a cold morning you look around and say: when the hell did all this shit happen?
Or at least, that’s what Katsuki thinks. Cold weather sucks. Yeah, he runs hot and he’s always sweaty as shit all summer, but - cold weather sucks.
There are some upsides, though. Fall produce is the fucking best, and standing over the stove during the fall and winter months is a lot less miserable than in the summer. The steam from the rice cooker floats around the kitchen, and the warm smells of fresh sautéed vegetables and pan-fried pork katsu makes the cool early-October air a lot more enjoyable.
Cooking is his thing. Everyone in the class knows it by now. It feels like his brain fires on all cylinders when there are four or five things he’s focused on at once. This shit is all about timing, precision, and focus– it’s no wonder he kicks ass at it.
And he never thought this would be the case, but he’s started to particularly enjoy cooking in this kitchen the most. Doing this shit in the dorms is like cooking on ‘hard’ mode – there’s never the right ingredients, shit is always in the way, extras are always up his ass.
He used to hate that, a few months ago. But lately it’s grown on him. He’s never been one to back out of a challenge, anyways.
Even now, the ambient conversation happening around him is more of a pleasant background noise than a nuisance. Everyone’s around him, but not in his way. He even has Icyhot helping him tonight after he came back from therapy – though he seems much more interested in invading Katsuki’s personal space than chopping the damn onions.
He stays close, even though there’s plenty of counter space elsewhere. And every time he walks away to grab his water, a utensil, whatever– he makes a point to squeeze past Katsuki, placing a hand on his lower back like the asshole doesn’t have a football field of space to get by.
But hey – at least he has help. Icyhot finishes a task, and Katsuki gives him another one. It’s just the two of them, focused and quiet, making a bomb ass meal. The rest of the room exists outside their bubble, it feels like. And as he watches Halfie’s terribly awkward knife skills, he lets himself enjoy the sounds, and the smells.
An arm wraps around his shoulders as Katsuki continues to tend to the saucepan on the stove.
“How’s it goin’ chefs?” Kirishima asks, leaning on him to gaze into the pan.
“Almost done,” Katsuki grunts.
Icyhot fiddles with the rice cooker next to the stove. “How do you open this?”
“Don’t fucking open it yet! It has to sit.”
He tilts his stupid head to the side. “It says ‘done’.”
“Well it’s not.”
“You know better than the machine?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, turning off the stove. “Whole lotta’ lip from someone who can’t cut a fucking onion.”
“Well damn, I can’t cut an onion either,” Kirishima says bashfully. “Is that something you’re supposed to know how to do?”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been doing that shit since first grade.”
Deku nods from where he sits at the counter. “It’s true! Kacchan used to help my mom cook dinner when he’d come over.”
Katsuki’s face heats up. “Who the hell fucking asked you, Deku?”
“I’m just saying–”
“Yo! Who knows how to cut an onion?” Kirishima yells over the hum of the room, and everyone turns and looks at each other.
Katsuki honestly should have guessed – barely fucking anyone raises their hand. Round Face, Sugar Dude, Sparkle Kid, Frog.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Sparky stands up across the room. “I can cut cake and stuff like that!”
“Who can’t cut cake, Kami?” says Ears, like she read Katsuki’s mind.
Icyhot stares at Katsuki as he takes the katsu out of the pan. He’s got a hand on the rice cooker again. “Now can I open it?”
“Are you deaf? I said it has to sit.”
“But why?”
“To finish cooking!”
“It says done, though.”
Katsuki sighs dramatically. “If you say that one more time, I’m locking you outside.”
Deku smirks, and sits up straight. “I’d let you back in, Todoroki.”
Icyhot’s stupid voice drips with complacency, like he’s so fucking pleased with himself as he turns towards Deku. “Thank you, Midoriya.”
“Yeah, keep it up, Halfie,” Katsuki drawls. “One more smart remark and you don’t get dinner.”
“Dinner is already made, and I helped. I earned it.”
“You call that helping?” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “If I wanted shitty knife skills I would’ve had Kirishima in here instead.”
The red-head puts a hand over his chest, like Katsuki just stabbed him. “Hey!”
After another agonizing two minutes of Halfie making it his personal mission to ruin the rice, Katsuki plates four sets of everything and sets them all on the table. Katsuki, Icyhot, and Kirishima sit down in front of theirs.
Alien walks by the fourth one, with a sly smile on her face. “Oh wow! So nice of you to make this for me, Blasty–”
“Get real,” Katsuki snaps. “Tape Arms, get the fuck over here before I toss this shit.”
“Oh hell yeah!” the bastard says, hopping over the back of the couch and jogging to sit down at the table, next to Kirishima.
Alien’s whining is like a mosquito flying too close to Katsuki’s ear. “Come on, why does Sero get dinner now too?!”
Tape Arms raises his eyebrows like a damn creep as his eyes shift knowingly between Katsuki and Icyhot, who’s sitting oblivious directly to Katsuki’s left.
“Me and Bakugou are best friends, obviously. Right, dude?”
“Shut the hell up and eat your damn food.”
A couple others gather at the table too, with whatever fresh out of the microwave ultra-processed garbage they love to put in their bodies. Deku’s idea of a “meal” is a protein bar and an apple, Sparky’s got frozen dumplings, Ears has cup-ramen. Whatever the fuck.
“This is really fuckin’ good, dude.” Kirishima’s entire mouth is stuffed as he speaks, and there’s stray rice on the table, on his shirt.
Katsuki just nods. His food is always good, obviously – but the crispiness of the pork is particularly perfect tonight.
“It’s probably because I cut the onions so well,” Icyhot fucking says, with a stupid smirk on his face as he loops one of his feet around Katsuki’s ankle under the table.
Deku snorts, Kirishima laughs, Katsuki rolls his eyes.
He kicks Icyhot’s leg. “Oh, you think you’re fucking funny?”
The hot and cold fucker looks around for a second, pretending to look fucking pensive. “Hmm. Yes.”
“You guys bicker like an old married couple,” Tape Arms says, with a shiesty little grin on his face. He raises his eyebrows again, and Katuski kicks him under the table too, and he lets out a yelp.
Sparky giggles from next to Tape Arms. “They’ve always been like that. Yo, remember when Todoroki annihilated Bakugou during the practicals race?”
“You mean the best day of my life? Hell yeah I do,” Tape Arms jokes.
“Oh yeah!” Kirishima beams. “That was insane. I thought for sure you two were going to throw hands right in the gym.”
Katsuki freezes for a second, before looking at Icyhot. That was– that was the day that– oh shit.
But Halfie looks pretty much unfazed, for whatever reason. It doesn’t even look like he’s pretending not to be bothered by the reminder of that fucking day. He leans a little closer to Katsuki though, their biceps and shoulders just barely touching.
“We did fight, after class,” he says nonchalantly, taking a bite of veggies. “We used to do that all the time.”
The table falls fucking silent, save for Katsuki accidentally dropping his chopsticks on his plate, and Deku sputtering water all over himself, mid-sip.
“What?!” half of them yell.
Sparky balks at both of them, looking almost afraid. “You guys fought? Like– like physically?”
“Yes,” Icyhot nods. “Frequently.”
“Damn. UA Fight Club. I dig it,” Ears says, nodding approvingly.
“Awwwh man! Why didn’t you tell me?” Kirishima whines, looking at Katsuki like a kicked puppy. “No wonder you two were so weird in the beginning of the year.”
“Shut up,” Katsuki loudly groans. “Big fucking deal, we fought. Who cares.”
Ponytail looks horrified down at the other end of the table. “How did you not get in trouble?”
“Because we’re not idiots, obviously,” Katsuki bites.
“Awh, Todoroki, Bakugou called you smart!” Round Face pokes, because she fucking knew it would piss Katsuki off.
Frog is standing behind Round Face, tilting her head to the side. “If you didn’t get caught, why’d you stop?”
Icyhot pauses, at that.
He looks at Katsuki with big clear eyes for a split second – the same look he’s sent Katsuki’s way a few times before. The one that makes the world stop turning, the one that fills Katsuki’s chest with embers and lightning and fucking butterflies and whatever other embarrassing shit.
“I– couldn’t keep up with him,” Icyhot says softly. “Bakugou deserves a fair match, and I couldn’t give him that. So we stopped.”
Deku glances over at Katsuki from Icyhot’s other side. His eyes are big and somber, like he wants the whole fucking table to know what the hell went down. And Katsuki is– is fucking sitting here with his appetite almost ruined because he hasn’t thought about this shit in weeks and he doesn’t need to be– to think about–
“Well, uh– you’re looking strong now, dude. I mean seriously– I feel like you’ve really beefed up recently,” Kirishima says in the heavy silence.
Katsuki blinks, and looks over. Kirishima’s staring right at Katsuki, even though he’s addressing Icyhot. He nods once, like he– like he fucking knew what the hell Katsuki was thinking, like he knew to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Tape Arms looks at Katsuki too and nods, seemingly following Kirishima’s lead. “Y-yeah, ‘Roki, I was gonna say that too. You lifting, bro?” he says, with a light and casual tone.
Icyhot tilts his head to the side. “Lifting?”
Katsuki shuts his eyes, and exhales with relief.
“Lifting weights,” Deku supplies.
“Oh. Yes, I have,” he says. “Thank you. I do feel stronger.”
Katsuki might just have to cook Kirishima dinner for the next eternity. It was the perfect deflection, honestly. Not only because it worked so well, but because it’s fucking true– Icyhot does look strong. Their workout routines and steady meals have been working wonders, and he’s finally gotten his build back. It’s been satisfying to watch his face fill out, his arms grow bigger, stronger.
He’s himself. Wholly, mentally, physically. Katsuki’s hit with the reality of it right there, as he sits at the table.
This stupid asshole who’s been busting his balls all night, who keeps touching his stupid cold toes to Katsuki’s leg. This strong, resilient bastard with bright, beautiful eyes and a big cool shoulder shamelessly pressed against Katsuki’s, even in the presence of the nosiest people on earth– that’s him. The real Icyhot.
And god– after everything– it feels so damn good to see him again.
“Bakugou looks stronger too. I bet they’re doing all kinds of cool stuff in those remedial classes!” Sparky says.
Icyhot’s voice is level and dry as he turns towards Sparky. “Last week we did wind sprints through artificial snow for two hours.”
He looks positively fucking nauseated, and Katsuki snorts. “Super cool stuff, right Sparky?”
“God damn,” Ears says. “How many more weeks do you have left?”
“Four,” Deku adds, the fucking know-it-all. “Three, after tomorrow.”
Sparky slumps over his dumplings. “And here I thought I had a chance to catch up to you guys after you didn’t get your licenses. Now you’re gonna get ‘em and be more in shape than me. How am I supposed to compete?!”
Katsuki smirks. “Be better.”
“Work harder,” Icyhot says at the same time.
The table laughs, as the two of them glance knowingly at each other.
Alien groans. “That was so Plus Ultra, I’m gonna hurl.”
“Are you guys nervous at all?” Round Face asks suddenly. “Did they say for sure that all of you would get your licenses, or could they still fail you?”
“Damn Uraraka, now you’re making me nervous,” Kirishima laughs awkwardly.
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mean– not that I think you guys won’t get them, but–”
“It’s fine,” Icyhot interjects, looking at her. “Nothing is guaranteed, but– I’m not worried.”
Ears shoots Halfie a half-irritated, half-admiring look. “Well we all know Todoroki never gets nervous, anyways.”
He tilts his head, looking at her thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say that.” He turns to look at Katsuki. “I just never feel nervous when Bakugou is by my side. And he’ll be there with me, so.”
God dammit, the shit that falls out of Icyhot’s mouth.
A soft smile spreads across his dumb face, and Katsuki almost loses himself in those eyes before he turns away, his face red hot as half the table coos at them.
Kirishima puts a hand to his chest. “Bro–”
“Oh my god, that was so sweet I’m literally getting a cavity,” Ears says.
Deku’s eyes are all watery. “Todoroki–”
“Get a room, guys. Ugh–” Tape Arms says, winking.
He tries to be pissed off about it, he really does. But with Halfie looking at him like that, saying things like that, he just– he can’t bring himself to do it.
“Fucking– sappy asshole–” he mumbles, giving Icyhot’s leg a squeeze with his hand under the table before the Half and Half bastard returns the gesture, keeping that soft smile on his face.
“I don’t think you realize what could’ve happened, if–”
“Oh, get over it Halfie. Nothing happened so what’s the fucking problem?”
“Bakugou, if I have to tell you to watch your language once more, you’re walking home.”
Katsuki crosses his arms as he slumps in his seat. The damn seatbelt keeps fucking jamming, and he tugs it sharply to release it from the death grip it has across his chest. Aizawa eyes him from the rearview mirror, though his glare is nowhere near as intimidating as it used to be.
Halfie’s arms are crossed too, and he’s leaning against the window like a little kid who didn’t get his way. His breath leaves foggy spots on the cold glass as he speaks.
“You could’ve at least given me a warning, you know.”
“You would’ve held back! It works better when you’re going all out.” He yanks off his scarf – the damn seatbelt keeps pulling on it. “What’s the big deal, anyways? I made an awesome combo move. So what?”
Icyhot glares at him. “What do you mean, ‘so what’? We have one more class left, and you almost got us kicked out. You could’ve toppled that whole building, Bakugou.”
“Excuse me?” Aizawa says as he stops at a red light, continuing to eye Katsuki in the mirror. “I spend one remedial class grading instead of watching you two, and you almost take down a building?”
Katsuki side-kicks Icyhot, discreetly. “You’re the one who’s always tellin’ us to find new ways to use our quirks so– I did! So what?!”
“You used my quirk. Without my permission,” Icyhot bites.
Aizawa’s eyebrows raise. “And how’d that happen?”
Katsuki huffs, and rolls his eyes. “Both’a my gauntlets were already spent and this idiot was just standing there with a wall of fire next time him and he needed backup! So I–”
“He threw his sweaty glove at my fire, and it exploded,” Icyhot interrupts, and his pouty, bitchy expression is so childish it’s almost funny. “I didn’t need help, I was–”
Katsuki laughs. “Oh gimme a break, Halfie. Those guys were all the way up your ass. Think of it as a favor.”
Aizawa’s hands grip the wheel tighter. “Bakugou, I swear to god I will stop this car–”
“I’m just saying, you could’ve communicated better–”
“Oh that’s rich coming from you, mister strong-silent I’m running off on my own like an idiot type– if I didn’t have to look for you I wouldn’t have had to back you up!”
Icyhot rolls his eyes, and sighs like the fight is deflating out of him because he knows Katsuki’s right. “You are being difficult.”
Katsuki grins. It’s hard to win an argument against the world’s most stubborn asshole – and when he does, it feels fucking great to be able to gloat. “Oh shut up, loser. You love it, don’t lie.”
And then suddenly, Icyhot’s bitchy expression falls away immediately. Now his head’s turned towards Katsuki in the backseat, and his expression is one that Katsuki’s never really seen before.
“I didn’t know you knew,” he says, and all the irritation that was in his voice seconds ago is no longer there.
Katsuki’s brow furrows, and the stupid fucking seatbelt locks up against his chest again.
“Hah? Knew what?”
“That I love you,” he says simply. “I didn’t know you knew.”
Katsuki’s eyes widen as his breath catches in his throat. Icyhot’s face is– is flushed with a weird pink color, one that makes his eyes brighter, softer. He continues to hold Katsuki’s gaze, like he just said something mundane and boring and not earth-shatteringly horrifyingly– hoooooly shit.
“Wh– what the fu–?” He stutters, as he catches Aizawa’s gaze in the rearview mirror again. This time, the man is smiling so stupidly wide, like he’s about to fucking laugh. “Can I–?”
“Go ahead, kid,” he says, grinning at both of them.
“What the fucking shit Halfie?! God– how are you gonna just lay that on me right fucking here of all places, I mean for fuck’s sake–”
“I didn’t know you knew, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I fucking gathered that. Oh my fucking god–”
“I’m sorry, I just–”
“Well don’t fucking apologize! God, what the hell–” He’s yanking on his seatbelt that’s still locked over his chest. It’s like the damn thing is trying to hold Katsuki hostage. “How can this school be so damn rich and not have working fucking seatbelts?!?”
“Stop yanking on it,” Aizawa warns as he drives through the front gates. “We’re almost there.”
“You could probably unbuckle it and try to–”
“Shut up, Halfie. Just– just gimme a fucking second.”
“Okay.”
The car stops in front of 1-A Heights Alliance, and Katsuki’s never jumped out of a car door faster. The leaves on the ground swirl as he slams the door, and he shoots the meanest glare he can muster at Aizawa’s knowing grin as the man drives off. He grabs Icyhot’s arm and drags him to the side of the building.
He drops his shit on the ground and pushes him up against the large brick wall – this side of the dorm is shadowed from the mid-morning sun, and the cold October air smells fresh.
His heart pounds in his ears, in his throat as he holds Halfie's shoulder against the wall.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted to–”
“Shut up,” Katsuki orders. “Just– shut up. Do you mean it?”
They’re inches away from each other. Icyhot’s got that flush on his face again, and something ignites in Katsuki’s belly as he watches those eyes flicker down to his mouth once, twice.
“Of course I do,” he says softly, “I love you. How could I not?”
That stupidly gorgeous flush on his pale cheeks, that focused eye contact that he never shies away from – Katsuki couldn’t resist even if he wanted to.
So he doesn’t.
He surges forward, grabbing both sides of Icyhot’s dumb handsome face, and kisses him.
That fire in his belly that’s secretly held Icyhot’s name for a while now – it roars and envelops absolutely everything the moment their lips touch. It’s like his insides are filled with magma, searing every surface of his body with a tingly, overly-warm sensation.
For a split second Icyhot stands frozen, but before Katsuki can start panicking, Halfie wraps his arms around his waist. He drags Katsuki closer as his lips part and their chests press together.
Katsuki breaks for a breath after a few seconds, leaning their foreheads together with Icyhot’s face still in his hands.
“It was a cool move,” Icyhot says, breathless and deep-voiced and Katsuki’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry and hoooooly shit there’s no going back now, because—
“I love you too,” Katsuki blurts, stroking a thumb across his scarred cheek. “I love you, you idiot.”
Icyhot grabs the back of Katsuki’s head and pulls him in for another kiss, grabbing a fistful of his shirt with the other hand. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants a hug or a kiss, but Katsuki’s more than willing to give him whatever he wants. Absolutely anything. Absolutely everything.
It feels like he might pass the fuck out, and it has nothing to do with the hours-long remedial class he just finished.
His lips are exactly the way Katsuki had imagined they would be– half overly warm and the other half cooled. It’s not perfect– neither of them are experts at this shit, and the cold, dry weather yields chapped lips. But damn– just the fact that it’s him, that it’s them – that shit leaves Katsuki’s brain absolutely fried, and he loses himself in the sensation of having Icyhot all to himself.
After an amount of time that feels both too short and too long, Katsuki steps back, panting as he rests his hands on Icyhot’s hips.
“I think if we found a way to combine your AP shot with my ice, it’d be an offensive and defensive combo move,” he fucking says. All matter-of-fact, even though he’s staring at Katsuki’s mouth shamelessly like a freak.
He shakes his head, and laughs. “Really? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“....Among other things.”
Icyhot drags his eyes all the way down Katsuki’s body, and all the way back up, hesitating on some specific areas that make Katsuki wonder if this awkward excuse for a human being truly doesn’t know that he’s not supposed to fucking ogle people like that, or if he’s just too fucking shameless to care.
That heat stays smoldering in his stomach, spreading north up to his cheeks, and south down to his- well, yeah.
“Jesus Christ. Buy me dinner first,” Katsuki teases.
He backs off to pick up his hero costume case and his scarf off the ground, and starts to walk around to the front of the building. If he has to listen to Icyhot say shit like that for any longer, he might embarass himself, here. Uniform pants can only hide so much.
Icyhot follows his lead, picking up his briefcase too. “Okay. Where do you want to eat?”
Katsuki freezes, and turns to face him.
“You know, usually you ask someone out on a date before you profess your love to them, dummy.”
Halfie’s cheeks are still rosy as he stands there in the sunshine, his soft hair twisting in the wind. He bites his lip for a second.
“I like doing things my way,” he says. And the bright but soft smile on his face pierces Katsuki’s chest like a damn spear because Jesus Christ he is falling way too deep for this stubborn beautiful jackass.
“You’re gonna kill me, Halfie.” Katsuki scrubs a hand over his face, trying to keep the smile off his face. “Let’s go in. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
It only takes a day and half for Katsuki to come to terms with the fact that this shit with Halfie may actually fucking kill him.
The ceiling above his bed should honestly have a hole in it by now, considering how hard he’s been staring at it all fucking night.
He’s tired. It’s Sunday night. Probably Monday morning, by now – he should’ve been asleep hours and hours ago. But since Saturday, since they– did whatever they did, his brain just won’t shut the fuck up. It’s so stupid – he even knows he’s overthinking it. But once that shitty little voice in the back of his head starts blabbing, it’s hard not to listen.
They haven’t really talked about what happened. It’s not like they’re avoiding each other, though. It’s just the middle of the semester – Katsuki’s got shit to do, and so does Icyhot. It’s fine. It’s fucking fine.
Except… he can’t help but feel like– like maybe it’s not.
Katsuki always knows what to do during class, during hero work. He doesn’t hesitate. He’s decisive and quick, like any good hero should be. That’s his whole… thing. But the thing is – he has no idea how to proceed with something like this. And it’s– it’s up to him, right? To move things forward? Halfie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with his half baked social skills – so it’s up to Katsuki to steer the two of them in some kind of direction.
He’s just– not sure which direction is the right one.
He knows which way he wants to go, that’s for sure. He wants the whole fucking thing – for Icyhot to be his, to rely on him, to do all that dumb shit like make dinner together and run together and all of it. Any of it. They’re already doing most of that stuff already, and it’s been going pretty fucking well, so– so it should be easy to add another level to it, right?
But there’s– there’s one thing that’s holding him back, a dark twisting pit in Katsuki’s chest that hasn’t gone away since Saturday morning no matter how hard he tries to push it down:
What if– what if he’s not good enough?
Like, it’s obvious they’re not a typical match-made-in-heaven: they both have a fucking temper despite being unable to healthily express any other emotion, both of them have seen and been through some fucked up shit, and they argue all the damn time.
He turns over in his bed, laughing bitterly – fire and gasoline. It’s not even a damn metaphor, that’s just– that’s just them. Literally.
And god, that’s not even considering all the shit they’ve been through together. He’s known the guy, what, six, seven months? And in just that time he’s caused so much damage. His stomach clenches just thinking about it – Katsuki’s hurt him so much. Physically, mentally, emotionally. And Icyhot’s hurt him too, that’s for sure.
Those wounds are just now starting to heal. And it’s– it’s fucking terrifying to think of how fucking easy it would be rip them open again. Katsuki would never forgive himself. He can’t– he can’t go through that again. He can’t put Icyhot through that again.
He exhales heavily, staring at his dark ceiling again as his insides rip themselves apart. It’s their pattern, Katsuki knows. They’re bad, then they fix it, and then they’re good, and they fuck it up again. Over and over.
They’re good, right now. They’ve been good for way too long. So it’s– it’s only a matter of time, until–
Until Katsuki ruins it. Until he’s too harsh, too rough, too much.
He wants so badly for this to work, but it’s– he feels so disgustingly selfish for even entertaining the thought of pursuing it, when he knows damn well that Halfie deserves better.
Halfie deserves the fucking world. And Katsuki would stop at nothing to give it to him. But it still wouldn’t be enough to make up for his mistakes.
It’s decided, then. He’ll talk to Halfie in the morning, and tell him he’s too much of a fucking coward to do this with him. Fuck.
He presses his palms into his eyes, until he hears something outside that makes him jolt.
Immediately he jumps off his bed and checks his balcony to see what poor soul is trying to fuck with him. But the sight of two legs dangling down from above makes the adrenaline dissipate.
He turns to check his bedside clock: it says 3:47am.
Fucking typical. Better get this shit over with now, then.
He puts on a sweatshirt and pads out onto his balcony, closing his door behind him. Reaching up, he taps one of the socked feet hanging over.
The top of Icyhot’s head is just visible as he looks down between the bars.
“Hey,” Katsuki says. “Can I come up?”
“Sure,” he replies.
Katsuki takes a breath, and sends enough firepower through his hands to help him jump up and grab the base of Icyhot’s balcony, and hauls himself up and over the banister.
Icyhot just stares at him, painfully unimpressed despite how smooth that was, thank you very much.
“I have a door, you know. There’s stairs.”
“Shut up, this was easier.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and sits down next to him, to his left.
It’s much windier on the top floor, for some reason. It’s cold and crisp and the night sky ahead of them is so damn clear that the stars shine through the glow of the city in the distance.
Icyhot is wearing just a plain white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants next to him. Katsuki wants to fucking yell at him, to tell him to go put clothes on so that he won’t freeze to death. But the heat radiating off of him serves as a reminder of his stupid awesome quirk, and Katsuki scoots closer to his side because hey, he should benefit from that shit too. Damn human space heater.
Their bodies slot together so naturally as Icyhot rests his head on Katsuki’s shoulder like it belongs there, and the shiver that glides through his body is both sweet and sour.
“What’s that?” Katsuki asks, seeing a notebook on the ground on his other side, with his small, neat handwriting all over it.
Icyhot exhales. “I’m writing a letter to my mom.”
“Didn’t know you spoke to ‘er,” he replies, thinking of what little he knows about Mrs. Icyhot and adding more nerves to his stomach.
“I haven’t for a long time. Since the spring, probably.” He blinks slowly as he stares into the distance. “But I have things I want to tell her, now.”
Katsuki swallows. “Like what?”
Icyhot sits up straight, and faces him. The moonlight casts his face in an ethereal soft glow.
“I want to tell her about you.”
Katsuki’s stomach drops like it’s about to fall out of his ass. He can only hold Halfie’s eye contact for a second before he looks down at the concrete floor. Somehow, he’s still able to speak around the lump in his throat.
“What kinda things you sayin’ about me?”
Icyhot shrugs. “Remedial classes, dinners, you know. And that I love you.”
Katsuki bites his lip so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood. He turns away, squeezing his eyes shut.
This is about to hurt like a bitch. This is exactly what he was afraid of – hurting Halfie when he’s finally out of the pits of hell that he’s been dying in the entire summer. God dammit.
He can feel Icyhot’s body stiffen from where their knees touch.
“What’s wrong?” he asks gently.
Katsuki heaves a big breath. Come on, you coward.
“Listen, Halfie– I don’t– I’m not sure you know what you’re doing, here.” He crosses his arms, his legs. “You don’t have to– to do all this with me, you know.”
His dual-colored brows knit together, creasing in the middle of his forehead. “Do what?”
Katsuki sighs. “I don’t want you to feel like– like you should feel obligated to do this whole thing, with me. I know I kissed you and everything, but it’s– it doesn’t have to be more than that, if you don’t want it to be.”
Icyhot just blinks at him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Fucking– Jesus Christ. This is why this won’t fucking work. Icyhot’s too fucking– innocent, just socially inept enough to be taken advantage of and– Katsuki’s not used to being anything other than heavy handed, so fuck it–
“You don’t owe me shit, alright? That’s what I’m trying to say. So if– if you think you need to say you love me, or whatever, because you feel like you should, just– don’t. I’m not gonna ditch you just because we can’t make out, or whatever.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t– I don’t want to ruin this. If we need to just stay friends, then that’s fucking fine.”
It’s silent for a gut-twisting amount of time. Katsuki stares steadfast at his lap. There’s a 100% chance that Icyhot is sporting some horrible kicked-puppy expression on his moonlit face right now, and jumping off this fucking balcony would probably hurt less than seeing that.
“Nothing is ruined,” Icyhot says. It’s stern enough to sound confident, like he’s not just trying to temper Katsuki’s feelings. “I want to be more than friends. I love you.”
Katsuki grimaces, as his eyes start to cloud with moisture. He’s trying to find the right words to make him understand, but it takes him too long apparently. Halfie speaks up again, in a much smaller voice.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, god no–” Katsuki urges, stifling a bitter, wet laugh as his chest caves in on itself. “I’ve done something wrong. I’ve done everything wrong, and I just – I don’t get how you can sit there and say that you love me, when I’m– you know how I am,” he stutters, feeling disgustingly small as his voice shakes. “I just– are you fucking sure?”
This is Todoroki fucking Shouto – he could have anyone. He could have everyone. The whole damn class turns their heads when he walks by, and Katsuki’s just– some shitty mean asshole who was bold enough to pick a fight with him.
He keeps his eyes shut, bracing for whatever fucking answer comes out of his mouth. In the silence, a cold hand settles gently on his jaw, and he startles.
He lifts his head, and opens his eyes. Halfie’s looking at him with that focused gaze that he’s fallen head over heels for, those spring storm eyes that have Katsuki’s entire being sunk into them. He looks at Katsuki like there’s nothing else in the world as interesting, nothing else in the world as worthy.
“I like who I am when I’m with you.”
It’s silent for a moment. Katsuki shakes his head.
“The hell does that mean?”
“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” he says gently with a fond smile. “You make me want to be better, to be stronger, smarter – to be everything that you are. And– I’ve never had anyone in my life that understands me more than you do.”
Katsuki sniffs, and looks away. “Pretty sure Deku’s got pages of Icyhot lore in that book of his.”
Icyhot smiles at that. “Well– Midoriya knows me, yes. But I think – the way you and I think about things is fundamentally similar. You understand me, and I understand you.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes. “That’s a real nice way to say we’re both assholes.”
Icyhot bites his lip, with that beautiful smile still on his face. “Maybe not assholes, but… different. Than everyone else, at least.”
Katsuki shakes his head, and smiles. “I’ll take it.”
Icyhot shifts so that he’s sitting on his knees, facing Katsuki dead on as he grabs one of his hands. Cold air enters Katsuki’s lungs as he heaves a deep breath.
“I’ve hurt you, Icyhot. A lot.” Katsuki says, trying his best not to grimace every time he blinks and sees that broken nose burned on the backs of his eyelids. “I feel like– like you deserve better than…” he trails off, turning his head to blink the tears away.
But Icyhot’s hand is back on his cheek, turning his head back around as his thumb swipes a tear off his face. It looks like he decides on something, and he gently leans in.
Katsuki’s breath hitches in his throat, completely overwhelmed by the painfully soft sensation of his face being cradled and kissed gently. It feels like a dam has broken inside his ribcage, and a tsunami of warmth floods his senses from the inside out.
Katsuki’s– he’s never experienced a touch so damn gentle. And now he– he’s not sure he’ll be able to live without it. He blinks, watching with wide eyes as they break apart.
“I know it’s been– a rather eventful year,” he begins again, always the understater. “I haven’t been very good to you either, you know. And I’m so sorry for that.”
Katsuki watches his face, and it looks like he still has more to say – so he just nods, giving him the space to finish his thought despite the urge to bat down his unnecessary apology.
“But– I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to call you Katsuki, and I want you to call me Shouto,” he says softly. He grabs Katsuki’s hand. “I love you, and I’m sure.”
And it’s so fucking stupid – the way Katsuki’s eyes just start to fucking leak no matter how hard he tries to keep it together. Like, who the fuck does Icyhot think he is, saying all this shit outright with that idiotic bravery that is so Shouto, that characteristic blockhead attitude that throws caution to the wind and says fuck it, I’m doing it.
He is so fucking ridiculous – and Katsuki’s never wanted anything less. It’s not like he’s ever been good at saying no to that face, anyways.
“Jeez, alright princess,” Katsuki laughs, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Guess we’ll do it your way, then. Because that all sounds pretty good to me.”
Icyhot’s eyes shine in the moonlight as an easy smile spreads across his face. He’s been– he’s been smiling so much lately. Katsuki would say it was weird but it’s– it’s almost too perfect to even be cynical about.
“God–” he exhales, wrapping his arms around the idiot, and holding tight. “How the fuck are you of all people good at this?”
His low, soft voice rumbles through Katsuki’s chest. “I’m good at most things.”
“Just– shut up, cocky bastard–” he smiles, and wraps a hand around the back of that candy cane head. Icyhot leans back to break out of the hug, and their faces are inches away from each other as the chilly breeze flows past them.
He smiles again, looking at Katsuki’s lips with a glint in his eye that looks almost sly. Katsuki can feel his breath against his face when he speaks again, low and airy.
“Why don’t you make me?”
Katsuki grins wide and closes the gap with urgency. Who is he to deny his boyfriend’s request, anyways.
The two of them are zombies in class all day after that, but god damn, is it worth it.
Beads of sweat roll down Katsuki’s forehead and he wipes it off with the back of his arm, though that’s sweaty too so it doesn’t help much. He’s been focusing on his weight distribution lately in his feet – stay light, stay steady. Stay light, stay steady.
It’s easier, here. The gym floor doesn’t have the grass and rocks and roots and shit like the clearing used to, so trying not to trip doesn’t take as much brain power. Though without a breeze, it gets stuffy as hell in here. He’s sweating his ass off, yet there’s snow on the ground outside.
“Tired already?” Half and half asks, though being just as sweaty and out of breath really pokes a hole through whatever lame jeer that was supposed to be.
Katsuki grins. “You wish.”
He fakes right and uppercuts with his left hand, planting his right foot on the ground. Icyhot dodges matrix-style, but doesn’t trip over Katsuki’s leg like he thought he would. Instead he uses his momentum to throw a hard punch to Katsuki’s right. He doesn’t have time to dodge, and Icyhot’s fist collides with the outside of his forearm as he blocks.
The motherfucker hits hard – he always has. And as pain blooms across his arm, Icyhot continues his offensive and tries to set his feet for a turning kick.
He’s so damn predictable. This’ll be good.
Katsuki quickly kicks the back of Halfie’s supporting leg, and his knee buckles, tossing off his balance as he stumbles.
“I can read you like a damn book, Shou. Is that all you got?” Katsuki smirks, standing back to admire the frustrated look on his stupid cute face.
He rolls his eyes, standing back up straight. “Maybe I’m going easy on you.”
Katsuki laughs, and the sound echoes in the empty room. “Ha! Get fucking real. You’re full of shit.”
This time Icyhot comes at him with a right hook that’s way too fucking fast, and Katsuki just barely moves his damn face out of the way in time – he can feel the fucking air move right across his cheek with how narrowly he avoided getting slugged.
“God damn–” he breaths, trying to grab the arm that just almost fucked him up, and missing. Icyhot smirks now, all proud of himself as he steps slightly backwards. His hands lower just a tad, and Katsuki’s not dumb enough to pass up on that big of an opening. He plants one foot, and goes for it.
Katsuki’s hook kick almost lands fucking perfectly, but Halfie ducks masterfully like the smart asshole he is. And as his planted foot rotates through the motion, the floor underneath of it suddenly becomes cold and slick. He tries to reset his stance as his kicking leg comes back down, but there’s no friction under the ball of his foot, so–
“Fuck–” he grunts, as his foot flies out from under him and he lands right on his ass.
There’s fucking– there’s god damn ice on the ground. Right under Katsuki’s feet, and now his ass. That cheating bastard will pay.
Icyhot stands there, just a meter away. And he– he fucking laughs.
The smile behind his hand bunches up the rest of his face, making his cheeks rounded and his eyes squinty and bright. And the sound of it – that stupidly cute giggle that bubbles up from his chest in that voice that’s always so damn serious or dry–
Katsuki’s never heard anything better.
He just stares at him in disbelief. “Did you just fucking laugh?”
Icyhot lowers his hand that was loosely covering his mouth, though that big smile remains. “Maybe.”
It’s like– it feels like he just saw a fucking unicorn. Or Bigfoot. Or whatever other mythical thing that people say exists but no one’s actually seen. It’s funny – his ass is freezing cold on his little icy patch, but he’s fairly certain there’s some type of fire burning in the middle of his chest right now.
“Never seen ya do that, before.”
Icyhot just smirks, and extends a hand down to Katsuki to help him back up. “I’ve never seen you look so ungraceful before, either.” He holds Katsuki’s hand and steps closer. “Guess there’s a first for everything.”
Katsuki can’t help but smile like an idiot too despite the circumstances, as that light, airy sound of his laugh plays over and over again in his head. He’d bet millions that no one other than maybe his family has heard Icyhot laugh. Hell, he used to never even smile, though lately it seems like his lips are turned upward more often than not.
That fire in his chest is melting his insides into softy mushy goop. It’s fucking ridiculous.
Katsuki shakes his head, and looks down. He’s so disgustingly in love with this shithead, he can’t even formulate sentences. “You’re an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.” He smiles. “Water?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki nods, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as they both walk to the side of the room.
As they hydrate in comfortable silence, Katsuki looks at the already red-ish area on his arm where he blocked that punch.
“God damn–” he grunts. “For a distance fighter you punch fucking hard.”
Icyhot takes a breath, after chugging his water. “Thank you,” he says, nodding. “Also– sorry.”
Katsuki looks at him, his broad muscled shoulders and chest, lifting up and down with his breaths. “Don’t apologize for being good at shit, dummy. It’s good to be strong.”
“You’re just as good, you know. It’s like I can’t kick without you seeing it coming.” He stretches his arm across his chest. “It’s annoying.”
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki grins. “Get good, then. Stop telegraphing.”
He rolls his eyes, though the small smile betrays the apparent annoyance. “Shut up, Kat.”
Katsuki laughs now, and shakes his head. “Jesus. You’re starting to sound like me.”
Icyhot raises his eyebrows playfully, brushing his hair off his forehead. There’s something on his hand that catches Katsuki’s eye, though.
He scoffs. “Are your fucking nails painted?”
Shouto sticks his hand out in front of him, inspecting the purple pigment on his fingers. “It’s almost Uraraka’s birthday. She wanted to paint my fingernails.”
Katsuki steps closer to him, and grabs the other, nail polish-less hand. “Just one?”
He shrugs, smiling fondly at his hand. “Yaoyorozu said she wanted to do the other hand. I think she called it ‘dibs’?” He tilts his head to the side. “She said she’d pick a color by tonight.”
He continues holding his hand, inspecting the curves and veins and scars on his long, pale fingers. It’s fucking wild to think that this fucking dude is someone who enjoys letting girls paint his nails. Icyhot – the fucker who used to stand silently to the side of everything, who used to snap at Katsuki for the littlest shit. The son of the top hero, the absolute machine, the most serious, stoic, ice cold robot in the world that intimidated everyone with just the look in his eyes.
The guy who lost the entirety of himself, and worked hard as fuck to get it back.
And now, here he is – a person who loves to spend time with his friends, who drinks disgustingly pink strawberry milk while he listens to Deku blab on about nothing. This version of Shouto is bright, and alive, and happy, and so fucking amazing and so fucking – himself.
He smiles to himself, huffing air out of his nose.
Icyhot smiles too. “What?”
“Nothing,” Katsuki says. “Your friends wanna paint your nails, and my dumbass friends want me to fucking build snow godzilla with them.” He puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head.
Icyhot grins. “Is that what Kirishima keeps texting you about? Your phone keeps buzzing.”
“Yes,” Katsuki laments. “He’s fucking lame.”
They share a look, and slowly Katsuki can see – a thought crosses Icyhot’s mind, and the same one crosses Katsuki’s at the same time.
“Wait– you’d be fucking great at–”
“Snow sculpting–” he interrupts, bringing frost to the palm of his hand like he forgot what his quirk was and needed a reminder. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Silence again.
Katsuki sighs. “Don’t say it–”
“We should help,” Halfie says, grabbing Katsuki’s arm.
“No. No. I fucking knew you would—” Katsuki sputters. “You wanna spend our afternoon together in the fucking cold?!”
Icyhot continues pulling his arm, but Katsuki refuses to budge. But he’s stronger now, and Katsuki doesn’t have enough weight on him to deter his giant ass.
“We should help our friends.”
“Oh, like it’s so fucking noble to vandalize campus with snow monsters everywhere,” Katsuki bites, trying his damnedest not to smile. “And you know Deku will be pissed if we miss another study session.”
“Midoriya can come too.”
“No, Shou.”
“Katsuki.”
He breaks out the puppy dog pout – although on Shouto, it looks more like you just denied a creepy six year-old when he asked you to color with him.
But still – that stupid little frown, those big round heterochromic eyes that know exactly what they’re doing and god fucking dammit–
“Fine–” Katsuki groans, adding an eye-roll and slumping his shoulders for dramatic effect.
Icyhot smiles again. “You’re too easy.”
As they get changed in the locker room, that sentence floats around Katsuki’s head.
One of the things Katsuki has always liked about Icyhot is the fact that he’s fucking direct. Who knows if it’s because he wants to be, or he just doesn’t have the social skills to bullshit. Either way, those three words stick in his head as he watches his boyfriend get changed next to him.
He’s right, of course – it’s so fucking easy. This – the banter, the way they can almost read each other’s minds – it feels so natural, in a way that Katsuki never imagined it would. It’s been like this for the past month or two – just smooth fucking sailing. No fighting, no horrendous fucking mental breakdowns or yelling or anything.
They’ve been good. So good.
So much– gooder that Katsuki ever thought was possible.
And the strangest part is that he doesn’t even really have to try. It’s almost fucking surreal – Icyhot used to make him want to rip his hair out on a good day. Shit was so impossibly fucking difficult and every damn interaction felt like diffusing a bomb, or, more often than not, intentionally setting one off.
But now it’s– it’s just them. They exist in each other’s orbit, a calm and intentional presence that circles around and around, starting and ending each day together. Nothing in Katsuki’s life has ever been this easy – he’s always had to claw his way to the top with hard work, grit, brutality, force. Whatever it fucking takes to get what he wants.
And damn, maybe that’s why it took so long to get here with him. It’s kind of fucking obvious if he thinks about it – Icyhot’s the only person in the damn world who looks at Katsuki’s tenacity, bossiness, hardass attitude and says, 'so what?' . The fucker is so damn stubborn, it should’ve been obvious from the beginning that he’ll never get anywhere with force.
That’s the part that leaves Katsuki disoriented, in a terrifying yet comforting way –
He doesn’t have to force this.
This– doesn’t have to hurt.
He turns his head to watch Icyhot take off his shirt. It’s easy for Katsuki to remember how different he looked just a few months ago. He still shudders when he thinks about last summer, and all the fucking shit that they both went through.
But you know what? He’d do it again, for this result. Again and again, over and over just to see that relaxed, contented face that’s forcing Katsuki to stand around in the fucking snow for the rest of the afternoon.
“What are you looking at?” he asks playfully as he zips his track jacket that’s gotten a little too small for him.
Katsuki steps up to him, and rests his hands on his boyfriend’s waist. “You, dummy.”
He hums, leaning back against the lockers as he wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck. “You know, I didn’t expect you to be so nice after I put you on your ass.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes fondly. “You only won because you played dirty, you fuckin’ cheater.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking ab-mmf–”
He smashes their lips together to shut his stupid ass up, pressing him into the lockers. It’s messy, full of teeth and heat and stupid electrified whatever as Katsuki leans his body against Icyhot’s. He pulls back after a couple seconds.
Shouto’s face is one that Katsuki’s grown to fucking adore – that stupid surprised grin accompanied by dark pink cheeks and blown pupils and shiny, reddended lips that Halfie swipes his tongue across absently after every kiss. He doesn’t say a damn thing – he just keeps that stupid grin on his face as he stares at Katsuki’s mouth, out of breath.
“Yeah,” Katsuki grins, cupping the left side of his face and feeling the sharp flushed heat through his palm. “You’re the one that’s too easy.”
Shouto smiles. “I hate you.”
Katsuki rubs a thumb over his scar, smiling like an idiot too.
“I know.”
The sun is already sitting low in the sky when Katsuki arrives at Aizawa’s office, and the late afternoon sun filters through the blinds, painting the whole room with strips of soft light. It’s cleaner than it usually is in here – no more stacks of bullshit creeping in on every side, no more mugs of stale tea and coffee sitting cold and untouched on every flat surface. Looks like the guy’s finally figured out his damn filing cabinets, and if the relaxed expression on his teacher’s usually exhausted face is anything to go by, he’s put at ease by the cleanliness, too.
“I promise this won’t take too much of your time,” the man begins, leaning back in his chair. “End of the year check-ins are typically short and sweet.”
Katsuki crosses his arms. The sleeves of his jacket are wet from walking through the snow to get here, though it’s far too cold in this stupid little office to take off his coat. He doesn’t say anything – just levels his teacher with a bored expression.
Aizawa straightens his navy sweater. “I’d like to begin with something that was brought to my attention last week,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about this.”
Katsuki blinks, as he tries to recall what the fuck he did last week that might’ve pissed off his teacher. But life has been pretty fucking uneventful lately, so the fact this memory comes up short is more than enough to put him on the defensive.
“I haven’t done a damn thing, so whatever you heard is bullshit.”
The man runs a hand through his hair, and he’s got a weird look on his face. Katsuki would almost venture to call it a smile, weirdly enough, if the circumstances were different.
“I’m gonna need you to just listen, kid. Can you do that?”
So he’s definitely in trouble, then. He nods, leaning his head on his fist.
“I typically spend the last week or two of the year talking with parents on the phone to update them on how their student is doing, how they’re handling their workload, any concerns, etcetera.” He begins. “The conversation with your parents was quick and easy, as it usually is.”
“You think they don’t know I’m on top of my shit?” Katsuki asks, narrowing his eyes as he tries to figure out where exactly this conversation is going.
“Let me finish–” he warns, though not unkindly. “There was, however, another parent whom I spoke to recently, who had quite a lot to say regarding a ‘foul-mouthed child’ who spoke to him on his son’s phone a few months ago.”
Well– shit. Katsuki almost forgot about that. He opens his mouth to reply, but not before Aizawa raises his eyebrows, reminding Katsuki about shutting the fuck up.
The man leans forward, placing his hands on his desk. “Now, you know I put utmost importance on keeping a cordial relationship with my students' parents, especially now that all of you are under my care. And I trust that my top student would know better than to do something like that, and I told him as much.”
The completely blank look on his teacher’s face doesn’t give Katsuki a single foothold to steady himself on. Between him and Icyhot, Katsuki’s convinced the two could team up to win the world championships for impassivity.
Does he actually believe that shit? Because – that is certainly something Katsuki would do. Has done. Did. Should he lie and go along with it? Nah, fuck that. But then–
“Don’t do it again.”
Ah. There it is.
“It wasn’t– I didn’t fucking plan on–”
“I don’t need the details,” Aizawa interrupts, and his voice is firm enough to make Katsuki shut his mouth again. He tilts his head down, eyeing Katsuki with an intensity that he sends right back at his teacher.
“You’ve got to let me handle these things, kid. You’re always running head-on into situations to fix them yourself, when they’re completely above your head.”
You’d think by now the guy would be sick of giving this lecture, because he’s sure as hell tired of receiving them. Katsuki crosses his arms again, getting more irritated by the second.
Though that annoyance doesn’t last long – because Aizawa’s face softens, his mouth twisting up at the corners.
“...and that’s why I know you’ll make an excellent hero.”
Katsuki blinks. “Hah?”
“I’m not an idiot, Bakugou. I know you, and I know Todoroki. What you did was stupid, yes, but it also shows the lengths you’ll go to protect those you care about,” he explains, with an easy smile. “And believe me when I say you’re not the only one to have exchanged some choice words with that man over the phone.”
God, this conversation is giving him whiplash. He sits up straighter in his chair, trying to think of a way to navigate what the hell he’s supposed to say, here.
“Old bastard needed a damn reality check,” he mumbles.
It looks like Aizawa’s trying to stifle a laugh as he drops his head in his hands, and Katsuki finds himself starting to smile, too.
“Regardless of that distraction, your improvement is nothing short of commendable, Bakugou. I mean it. You and Todoroki have really turned it around in the last few months,” he says. “Your grades are immaculate, kid. Ectoplasm personally told me how well you’re going in Calculus, and how he wants you to join the General Studies competitive mathematics team.”
Katsuki scowls. “What am I, king of the nerds? Fuck that.”
“And I told him your response would be something like that,” he exhales, smiling. “Nevertheless, I have nothing else to say. Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it. If you keep this up, by this time next year you’ll be a clear favorite for the top of your class.”
Aizawa, in general, is not really the type of teacher to dish out a lot of praise – after all, everyone in this school is here because they were already excelling in middle school. Everyone here knows how to fucking behave, how to study, blah blah. They’re past the point of needing applause for every little thing they don’t fuck up. And it’s not like he’s fucking mean or anything, as much as he’d like for people to see him that way. He’s just– not a particularly talkative person.
So to hear all of that, from his typically stoic teacher who’s been dealing with Katsuki’s impulsive ass for almost a year now, has set something warm alight in his chest – something that he’s simultaneously embarrassed by and proud of. His cheeks heat up, and he ducks his head to hide it.
“That’s all I’ve got for you. Unless you have anything you’d like to talk about, you’re free to go,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
Katsuki shakes his head and shrugs. “M’good.”
“Alright.” He stands, walking around to Katsuki’s side of his desk, and leaning against it next to him. “I’m proud of you, Bakugou. You’ve worked hard this year, and it shows.”
Katsuki suddenly finds it hard to keep eye contact with the man, knowing full well he probably looks like a fucking tomato right now. “Yeah, well. Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re very welcome. When you get back to the dorms, let Todoroki know that I need both of you to bring your provisional licenses to class on Monday so I can photocopy them for your files.” He smiles, though it looks more mischievous than it did before. “Unless, of course, you have his with you right now?”
Katsuki scowls. “Why would I carry around his–”
Those raised eyebrows, and that bullshitting grin – utterly identical to the one Katsuki saw in the damn rearview mirror all those weeks ago, god fucking dammit–
“Oh my god.” Katsuki drawls, and the tips of his ears feel like they’re on fucking fire. “No, I don’t have Icyhot’s fucking license.”
He’s enjoying himself too fucking much, as he leans on the desk trying to stifle his knowing smile. He shrugs his shoulders. “I know you two are very… close. It was worth a shot.”
“Was it?!?”
“I trust you’ll tell him to bring it in on Monday?”
“Yes, I’ll fucking tell him. Jesus.” Katsuki bites, and why the fuck does he have to fight his own face muscles to not smile?
“Good,” ‘Zawa says, nodding. “Enjoy your weekend, kid. You deserve it.”
Katsuki groans. He stands up, shoving his chair aside and wondering how a room this fucking cold isn’t doing anything to cool down the heat in his face.
“Yeah, whatever. Bye. Thank you.” He opens the door to the office. “Shut up.”
Aizawa huffs air out of his nose. “Bye, Bakugou.”
The sky is mottled with grey, wispy clouds as Katsuki steps out into the cold winter air. That smell of snow falling from the sky – icy, sharp, and fresh – blows in his face, and he heaves it into his lungs, letting the cold bleed into his insides. The snow isn’t as sparkly today since it’s so overcast outside, but the dimmed sunlight casts everything in a muddled greyish-blue hue, like a thin blanket spread over absolutely everything. Snowflakes fall on his face – little barely-there pricks of cold that he blinks out of his eyelashes as he walks down the brick path back to the dorms.
Winter was always his least favorite season. All that icy, snowy, mess? Fuck that. But lately it’s been growing on him – the way snow leaves the entire landscape tranquil, quiet, and beautiful. The way a breath of freezing air makes him feel alert and alive and grounded –
Kinda reminds him of a certain someone.
And as his phone buzzes in his pocket and that name pops up on the screen, he can’t help smile.
“Hey you,” he says, smiling into his scarf like a damn softie.
“How’d it go? ” Halfie asks, and all the other voices around him tells Katsuki he’s probably in the common room.
“It, uh–” he hesitates, as that warm, proud feeling from Aizawa’s office returns to him. He exhales, watching his breath float in the air. “It went really fuckin’ well, actually.”
“Told you it would. You never listen to me,” he teases, and Katsuki can see that beautiful smile in his mind as he says it.
“Hi Kacchan!” a voice says, a little quieter than Icyhot’s, but still very much recognizable to Katsuki, even as his footsteps crunch loudly across the icy walkway and the shuffling on the other line continues.
“Midoriya says hi.”
“Yeah I heard it, dummy.” Katsuki smiles. “The hell are you all doing? It sounds like a damn mad house.”
“Well, Sato is baking so a bunch of us are in the kitchen,” he says. “I’m mostly waiting for you, though.”
A stupid part of his heart swoops like it’s on a damn rollercoaster. “Always so damn sappy.”
“Yo Todoroki, when is your man getting back?” Katsuki hears Kirishima ask. Icyhot probably shows him the phone, and his voice gets closer. “Yo dude! You almost done with end-of-years?”
“Walkin’ back now,” he replies. “Save me some of whatever shit Sugar Dude is making, yeah?”
“On it!” he replies, and the phone shuffles again.
“You’re very popular,” Icyhot says, as the hubbub slowly fades like he’s walking somewhere more private. “I’m starting to get jealous.”
Katsuki smirks, feeling a bit too warm for someone trudging through snow. He might have to take off his damn jacket.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, princess,” he teases. “Can you wait that long? Should I start running?”
“I’m a little offended you’re not already running,” he teases right back, and Katsuki’s insides are melting at the sound of that smile. “I can’t wait to hear all about your meeting.”
He laughs again, and watches the condensed fog of his breath float aimlessly in front of him. His insides are filled to the brim with something light, and warm, and stupidly happy, and it spills out before he can think to stop it.
“I love you so much, Shou.”
The line falls quiet, though it doesn’t make Katsuki nervous. He knows by now that his boyfriend gets a little bit caught up when he says stuff like that, and imagining that beautiful, flushed face makes him stop walking as he smiles like an idiot too.
“I love you too,” he says back, still with that slight shyness that sends embers through Katsuki’s veins each time it replaces his usual monotone. “See you soon? ”
“Yeah, real soon.”
“Promise?”
Katsuki fucking giggles like a little girl. “Yes, I promise. I’m fuckin’- I can see the damn building. Thirty seconds, tops.”
“Good.” He exhales. “Love you, Katsuki.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
He continues walking, feeling inexplicably lighter as his boots crunch across the salty, icy walkway. The lights of 1-A Heights Alliance are on in the distance, and he knows the warmth that will waft in his face when he walks through those front doors won’t just be because of the heater.
It’s funny – they always say it’s lonely at the top. But you know what? Whoever “they” are– they’re full of shit.
Because if Katsuki’s at his best, it’s because Shouto is up there with him, holding his hand. And sharing the top with someone like that?
Well, that sounds pretty good to him.