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"Come on! We"re wasting daylight!"
Izuku summons a herculean effort to not throw the stone in his hand to Kacchan"s thick head. "It"s five in the morning, Kacchan! There"s no daylight to be wasted!"
"That"s what they want you to believe. Keep up, nerd! We"re almost there!"
Groaning, Izuku pulls himself up and follows Kacchan"s howling voice.
Why can"t Kacchan ask him out on a date like a normal person? Instead, they have to scale a freaking mountain when the sun"s not even up yet. Maybe he should take that pretty face into his hands and scream softly to it that he"s okay with pizza and movie date. God knows Kacchan wouldn"t take a hint otherwise. He had to go and make this grand gesture like he has something to prove. The idiot.
The idiot that I"m in love with, Izuku realizes belatedly.
A few minutes later, Kacchan comes back to find Izuku crouching on the ground with his face buried into his hands.
"What are you doing?" He asks flatly.
"Go away," Izuku says with a moan. "I"m trying to disappear."
"Tough luck," Kacchan snorts, and pulls him up with him. Izuku lets himself be pushed like a doll, mind somewhere in between screaming about his newly discovered feelings and screaming about Kacchan"s hand on him. There"s not much difference between the two, so it"s just a steady chorus of screaming.
He is brought back to the present when the first sunlight of the day hits him in the face the second they reach their destination. Izuku brings his hands up to cover his eyes, but then slowly lowers them as his eyes adjust. The dawn, he realizes. Kacchan brought him here to watch the dawn.
"Sit down," Kacchan"s gruff voice breaks through his thoughts. Izuku flops down beside him, eyes still on the view in front of them.
"Kacchan," he calls.
"What?"
What could he say to this? There"s an expanding warmth in his chest, spreading all over his body. He wants to take Kacchan"s hand and lean against him, hold him close to feel him breathe. He wants them to stay in this moment of peace and bottle it up so they can have something to look back at.
He settles for, "Thank you."
Izuku turned to look at him. Kacchan looked a bit awestruck. Izuku felt that way, too, to be honest. Because who would have known Bakugou Katsuki would grow up to be an unbearable romantic?
Not me, Izuku thought. Definitely not me.
XX
"He makes all these grand gestures like, agh!"
His friend hummed, eyes on the laptop and not even glancing at Izuku who"d draped himself over the library table to emphasize the effect Bakugou Katsuki had on him.
"He bought the house that I like," Izuku decided to divulge.
His friend choked. Served him right.
"What?" he said, baffled.
Izuku moaned into his palms. "Even though I"m moving out of the country after graduation."
"What?!"
"And he still hasn"t kissed me!"
"What."
"I know!"
"What do you mean you"re moving out of the country?!"
xx
The fact that he"s leaving...well, Izuku tries not to think about it too much. With Kacchan distracting him, it"s easy to forget, even though it should have the opposite effect. It"s easy to lose himself in Kacchan"s presence and words. He has an all-consuming effect on Izuku, and time and time again, Izuku lets him. Because Kacchan. Kacchan. Kacchan.
Katsuki.
Izuku wants to know if Kacchan has this feeling inside of him as well. This over pouring need to be close and touched. Izuku sometimes feels lost in it, up until the point where he doesn"t know which way is up and which way is down. It"s terrifying. It"s exhilarating. Izuku loves it.
If only Kacchan can work up the courage to kiss him already.
Xx
“You can’t paint your entire living room in orange . That’s murder.”
Katsuki raises the bucket of paint threateningly. “Watch me.”
Izuku looks as if Katsuki’s just killed his entire family. He closes his eyes and sighs heavily as he puts his hand on Katsuki’s to bring the bucket down. “Kacchan, no matter how much I appreciate you, there are just some things that I cannot allow you to do. Homicide and painting your new home orange are one of them.”
Katsuki scowls and forcefully raises the bucket again. “It’s either this, or black. And you fucking hate black.”
“No decent human being will paint their home black,” Izuku stresses. He’s waving his hands wildly. Any moment now they would land on his curls and pull . It’s funny.
“Well, what would you suggest?” Katsuki puts the paint down and crosses his arms, glaring at his—something. The employee that approached them earlier to help slowly inches away.
“Blue, for one,” Izuku says, wide eyed. “Like a sensible human being. Or even white. It’s much better than,” he looks at the paint by Katsuki’s feet with disdain, “ orange .”
“You got a problem with orange?” Katsuki bares his teeth to intimidate.
Izuku groans. “So much that I don’t even know where to begin. I’ll be scooping my eyeballs out by the end of the week if I’m surrounded by orange walls.”
“I’m not painting my living room in fucking blue or white.”
Izuku throws his hands up and walks away. “We’re getting wallpapers!”
Following Izuku out of the store, Katsuki tries not to trip over the pleasant feeling inside his chest. Because they’re arguing over what color the living room should be. It’s starting to feel like they’re really moving on to the next stage of their life.
Xx
Izuku stares at him, stricken. “You haven’t prepared your graduation speech?”
Katsuki wants to ask why the fuck does it matter, but the look on Izuku’s face stops him. Awkwardly, he shifts. “So what?”
They’re having their first sleepover in Katsuki’s new apartment. Around them, the smell of the newly pressed wallpapers and burnished floor permeates the air. They have sleeping bags and the proximity should be nothing since they’ve slept in a much closer one, but Katsuki’s mind keeps helpfully reminding him that they’re finally alone. He murderously flips a finger on that thought.
Somehow, the talk about their school shifted into this.
Izuku gains a gleam in his eyes. “Why aren’t you preparing your speech?” And ouch, he kicks Katsuki in the knee. How does he do that with a sleeping bag?
“I’ll come up with something,” Katsuki grumbles. He’s sleepy and Izuku’s nagging about his speech of all things . What the fuck.
“You liar,” Izuku cheerfully calls him out. “I’ll send you a copy of my unfinished draft. Then we’ll work through it together.”
Katsuki squints at him. “What draft?”
Izuku blushes, and the color should not be so attractive, but it is . Katsuki wants to do something violent. “Haven’t I told you?” he asks, smiling shyly. “I’m the top student as well.”
Something tells Katsuki that should do something to him, but he only manages a bland, “Huh.”
Izuku squints at him. “Huh? What do you mean by huh?”
He’s treading on a thin line, holy shit. Izuku’s not allowed to do that ; making Katsuki feel like a kid being called out by the teacher. “Huh, as in, is that so?” he salvages.
“Aren’t you impressed?” Izuku presses.
“I fucking am,” Katsuki says bluntly. “But it’s not really a surprise. You’ve always been smart.”
When Izuku doesn’t reply to that, Katsuki turns his head to look at him. He’s staring at Katsuki, wide eyed and a light brush of redness on his freckled face.
“What?” Katsuki asks, frowning.
“Nothing,” Izuku replies. Biting his lip thoughtfully, he continues, “I’m just surprised.”
By what, Katsuki wants to ask, but he’s already speaking again. “You have to prepare a good speech, you know. If not for yourself, then at least for your parents, or friends.”
“Fine,” he relents. Izuku’s gonna nag if he doesn’t agree. He’ll just have to copy Izuku’s if all else fails. He really doesn’t get the point, though.
Shifting his head, he sees Izuku’s small smile. Maybe there is something to be gained, though.