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When Katsuki woke up this morning, he went about his day like any other. Normal shit. Completely uneventful. So, he is a little fucking confused about how he ended up getting sent back in time.
This has Denki and Mina written all over it. He just knows it was their fault.
If there is one thing he does know about this situation, it is that his previous classmates have shit awareness. He gets that Shouta isn’t in the classroom at the moment, but how has no one noticed he isn’t a student?
Even Deku hasn’t noticed him yet! God, he can see why they got attacked by villains so much.
Katsuki looks around as he makes himself comfortable. It feels so nostalgic being back here. And the teenage versions of his friends are so tiny and squishy. He wants to squeeze them until they pop.
Katsuki squeezes his hands into fists to stop himself from making any rash decisions. He really needs to get his cuteness aggression in check.
The door opens, and the teenagers quiet down. Ah, there he is! Tired, grumpy, and just as hot as he remembers him.
Their eyes meet. It’s like time stops, birds sing, and all that other sappy bullshit.
He’s wrapped up in Shouta’s capture weapon within seconds. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
His little classmates cry out in shock, finally noticing the odd one out.
Katsuki huffs a laugh. “Damn, I can see why you were such a hard ass on us. We sure as fuck needed it if our awareness was this shit.”
“Who are you?” Cold and straight to the point. Katsuki almost forgot how protective he was.
“C’mon Teach, you and I both know who I am.” Katsuki rests his head on his hand, absentmindedly playing with the ring on his left hand. Shouta’s eyes go straight toward the small movement in interest.
“Bakugou.” Shouta relents before tightening the binds. Katsuki grunts, head slipping. “Sure, you look like him, but how would I know it’s really you? How would you explain suddenly aging like that? I’m not stupid.”
Katsuki sighs, rolling his eyes. “Time travel quirk, I’m guessing. I don’t know how or why, but it’s probably Thunder Dolt and Racoon Eyes. Those two are always giving me shit.” He turns his head, staring the two in question down as if it’s their fault.
They stiffen, pointing to the other. He bites his lip, turning so they don’t see the fond look in his eyes. Shouta catches it, though, because of course he does. He walks closer, wrapping the scarf around his hand so it doesn’t fall lax.
“And how do you expect to prove you really are Bakugou?” He asks, leaning closer.
Katsuki’s eyes fall to the man's lips, watching them form the words. How does he prove he’s the real Bakugou? That is the question for fucking sure. After a moment of staring at the man's lips, he finally meets Shouta’s eyes.
Without meaning to, his voice has dipped lower, honey-smooth as he finally speaks. “I could show you my quirk? Maybe reveal something I know about you that no one else knows? You and I surely get close in the future, so I have more than enough material.”
Shouta blinks in surprise. “Are you insinuating that I-” He cuts himself off.
Katsuki smirks, taping his left hand against the desk. “Oh, don’t worry, you wouldn’t let me anywhere near you until I passed the top ten. Until I earned it.”
Shouta scoffs. “Stop making up lies. Sure, that sounds like something I would do, but you are giving me no real reason to think you are Bakugou.”
“Fine. What’s the date?”
“Why is that important?” Shouta eyes him skeptically.
Now it’s Katsuki’s turn to scoff. “Oh fuck off. You know I won’t be able to provide the right information if I don’t know what the date is. I could tell you something that hasn’t happened yet, and that wouldn’t prove shit, now would it?”
Shouta reluctantly rattles off the date. Katsuki nods. “Oh, that’s easy. You know about Twice and Toga by now, so you would know if I was a clone. I would have melted by now because of how tight the binding cloth is.”
Katsuki leans closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Not that I’m complaining.” He winks.
Shouta pushes Katsuki back, and, with a show of strong will, only blushes the tiniest bit. He does turn off his quirk, though, which allows Katsuki the opportunity to flip his palm to the air, letting off tiny sparks.
“Is that enough proof? Toga can only copy a person's appearance, not quirk.” Katsuki pauses before he mumbles under his breath. “Not yet, at least.”
Shouta’s eyes widen.
Katsuki sighs. “We should probably move this conversation to Nedzu’s office, shouldn’t we?” His eyes flit to the ‘hidden’ camera. “He’s probably been watching this conversation and has some input.”
▪︎~~~~◇~~◇~~♡~~◇~~◇~~~~▪︎
After Katsuki has thoroughly outlined every incident that will happen leading up to the war, he is finally released from Nedzu’s office. He’s a little tired, but mostly excited to mess around with Shouta more.
So, he heads straight to the teacher's lounge. It’s predictably empty. He checks the time before busying himself with preparing a cup of hot coffee and sitting at Shouta’s desk. He decides to grade some papers for the man to keep himself busy.
Within a few minutes, the bell rings, and a few minutes after that, teachers start to fill the room. They eye him warily, though he’s sure Nedzu already updated them about the situation.
Soon, his favorite teacher walks in, sighing as he nears his desk. “What are you doing?”
Katsuki pushes the coffee he made toward the man, watching him sip at it gratefully. “Got bored.”
Shouta stands next to him, leaning down so he can see what Katsuki is doing. Katsuki sneakily takes a peak at the man's form as he does so. He nods in appreciation, turning to see Yamada hiding a smile behind his hand.
While Shouta is distracted, Katsuki signs to him. Hot as fuck.
Yamada snorts, nodding.
Katsuki knows those two are in a situationship right around this time. The only reason he isn’t jealous is because he knows it’s for convenience. The only feelings they have toward each other are platonic.
Shouta grabs the pen from Katsuki’s hand, lightly smacking his side. “Move.”
Katsuku does as told, complaining loudly. “After doing your work for you, all I get is pushed aside? Damn, I didn’t know you were into that.”
Aizawa rolls his eyes. “How come you never acted like this when you were in high school?”
Katsuki plops his ass on top of Aizawa’s desk, leaning on his arm leisurely. “You know how teenagers are. Acting all insecure and shit. Plus I wasn’t into any of those shits, so why would I flirt with them?”
Aizawa raises an unimpressed brow. “You call this flirting?”
“What, you expect me to use some corny ass pickup lines? You aren’t as observant as I thought if you think I flirt by just talking.”
That makes Aizawa pause. He takes in the confident way Katsuki is sitting, his hand just inches away from the papers he graded. “Acts of service.” He realized. “Are you flirting with me by grading papers and making me coffee?”
“There ya go. Good boy.” Katsuki teases.
Aizawa grimaces. “And this worked?”
Katsuki cackles, hopping off the desk. He opens the door, stopping to look over his shoulder and tap his ring finger against the doorknob. “Oh please, your shit at self-care. What more would future you want than someone willing to do tasks for you?”
He snorts, closing the door. Man, he is going to have so much fun tormenting Shouta while he’s here.
Not right now, though. He wants to talk to his mini classmates. Past classmates? Whatever.
▪︎~~~~◇~~◇~~♡~~◇~~◇~~~~▪︎
As soon as his foot crosses the threshold, the cute miniature versions of his friends are on him like flies on shit. They are cautious, however, remaining a respectable distance away even though he can tell they want to crowd around him.
That just won't do.
Katsuki leisurely walks over to the hideous couch, settling himself right in the middle. “Come on, ya little hellhounds.” He smiles fondly as they practically trip over themselves in excitement.
Izuku, of course, is the first one to sit down, most likely having used a percentage of one for all. “Kacchan! Y-you're so…” He gestures to all of him. “Big! Grown up!”
“Sure am, ‘Zuku.”
Izuku gasps at the nickname, eyes wide and teary. Katsuki softens considerably, unable to help himself when he reaches out to pinch the boy's chubby freckled cheek. “Tch, you never change, do ya? You're still a crybaby even in the future.”
Izuku giggles, scotting closer and wrapping his arms around him. Katsuki rolls his eyes but hugs the boy anyway, amazed at how small he is. He never realized how small they all used to be.
Denki sits himself on his other side, emboldened since Izuku got close and didn’t die. “Hey, where’d all that fire go? You know the ‘die’ and ‘grr’ and ‘angry splode yo mama’.”
“Oh, it’s still there.” Katsuki glares, letting a growl slip into his voice before smirking. “I only use it on villains now. No more of that teenage ‘everyone’s against me, so I’m mad at the world’ angst.”
“I mean…” Eijirou shrugs. “A lot of people are against us.”
“I went to therapy, so now I know how to deal with it in a way that doesn’t make people think that I’m an A-grade asshole. How about that?”
Izuku smiles cheekily. “I can only imagine how surprised people were when they figured out you’re a secret softy.”
“Yeah. It’s one thing to see me now, when I’ve already worked through my shit, compared to my teenage self who was a hot mess. Hell, the first time I showed an emotion other than anger was when I suddenly burst out crying on the kitchen floor because I was overwhelmed and finally comfortable enough to show it.”
He sighs, shaking his head at the memory. “Just be patient with me, alright?” He glares at them. “And be patient with your fucking selves too. You’re teenagers. Remember that.”
“Ugh, enough seriousness. Sooo! I couldn’t help but spot that ring on your finger! Who’s the lucky man?” Mina, ever the gossip-hungry leech, pops up behind him, poking his face insistently.
Katsuki raises a brow. “Shoulda known you knew I was gay.”
“Oh please, most of the class is gay. Plus, you look at Sensei’s ass a lot” Ashido scoffs.
Katsuki grins smugly. “He’s got a nice ass. Glad I put a ring on his finger before anyone else could snatch him up.”
Hitoshi, who had been napping on the chair across from them, suddenly sits up, glaring at him.
Katsuki snorts. “You may think you have a crush on him now, but that’s just your daddy issues talking. You crave attention and validation, and Shouta gives it to you. The glamor will wear off eventually, and you’ll be disgusted you ever saw him that way.”
Hitoshi rolls that around in his head for a second before nodding and lying back down. “Sounds about right.”
Eijirou plops himself down by his feet. “So who's the bottom?”
“Kiri!” Ashido hisses, slapping the back of his head. “You dumb himbo, you don’t ask people that.”
“Why not?” Eijirou pouts, rubbing his sore head.
Katsuki bursts out laughing, wiping an imaginary tear. “Ah, you guys are really something. Eiji, asking who the bottom in a relationship is isn’t a nice thing to do. Some people may think you're asking who the ‘woman’ of the relationship is. You know, since in most het relationships, the bottom is the woman.”
Eijirou’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head frantically. “I didn’t mean it that way! I was just curious!”
“I get what you mean-” Katsuki starts, only to be interrupted by Izuku. “Being the bottom can be a very vulnerable position, and Kirishima was confused because neither you nor Sensei seem like the type to be vulnerable.”
Izuku raises a finger in the air. “But I think both you and Sensei wouldn’t care who’s the bottom because you both feel comfortable around each other. Am I right?”
“Yeah, yeah, nerd. Neither of us minds.” He pushes Izuku’s head away, poking him in the sides and pinning him down so he can reign hell upon his ticklish stomach. “You’re such a little shit, you know that? Everyone thinks you’re so nice, but you just love to get all up in people’s business.”
“K-Kacchan!” Izuku screeches, trying to find leverage to kick Katsuki. It’s no use, however, because Katsuki is too heavy for any of his kicks to do any harm. “Kachahah-n! Noo!”
Katsuki laughs. “What was that? I didn’t hear you over your voice cracking.”
“Yo-u are so mean! Hah! Staaaaahp!”
The sound of a familiar sigh has Katsuki pausing, turning to see Shouta standing by the door. He can tell the man is hiding a smile behind his capture scarf. “Stop torturing my students.”
“What?” Katsuki looks him in the eye, continuing to tickle Izuku. “Where was that mentality during exams? Hmm?”
Shouta rolls his eyes, giving him the finger as he strolls to the kitchen.
Katsuki pauses briefly, straining his neck to get a look at the man's ass. It’s enough of a reprieve to give Izuku the chance to turn against him, and soon he’s on the floor, his miniature friends holding him down as he’s tickled.
“You fuckers!”
“That’s what you get, Bakugou,” Shouta calls from the kitchen.
“Fuck you!”
Shouta peers over the rim of his mug, taking in Katsuki’s lithe but strong form. He hums softly. “Fuck me indeed.”